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#it was a nice thing to kind of draw something more mindlessly
zelkams-art · 1 month
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I was trying to break the art block and asked my friend to give me a random color, he went with teal. And since ATLA/LOK is a thing we have in common, here is the outcome!
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narislvr · 21 days
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HEY THERE, SUBW4Y GIRL
one-last-stop au ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ | e.williams x fem!reader
cw? reader is painfully bad at asking women out (she will get better dw) new characters introduced, plot is beginning, literally just fluff for now, book dialog and possible(not really) spoilers, not proofread
nari note ᝰ.ᐟ Hi! I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the support on the first part of this series, it really motivates me to keep going and I hope I don't disappoint! Im not staying entirely book accurate but If you've read the book and want certain scenes to show up then please let me know! If you'd like to be part of the taglist then lmk also! That's all for now, and thank you again ♡
m.list [๋࣭🪻] part one [ 🌆 ] palestine-resources & daily click
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"The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that August half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!" ── page 35
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Weekday evening shifts were your favorite.
The lights were always dim, painting the old diner atmosphere in hues of orange and amber, and with how slow it was, you weren't forced to run around hoping that table six wouldn't holler you over as you ran to get pancakes for table nine. It was actually quite nice at times.
Being a waitress at a 24/7 diner was not in your plans when you moved away from your last campus all the way in the other corner of the country, but Millers was nice. The building, despite it’s age and outdated fashion, was homey and even with the annoyance of leaving the place smelling like pancake batter and greasey bacon, it was a place youve come to hold dear in your heart.
Having a soft spot for the place and liking your job, however, didn’t mean that you were necessarily good at it a hundred percent of the time. Sleep deprived rushes particularly, made you loath coming in saturday evenings, but today was good.
The evening had been going relatively smooth so far. In the two and a half weeks you’ve worked here, your mistakes have leveled down to now and then little to mix-ups —not counting wedsdays slip up— and your boss, Eliza, had yet to come in and save the day by placing an extra plate of toast on your tray when you accidentally forget them in the kitchen.
With it being close to nine on a Thursday, work was slow, thus, you found yourself leaning on the front counter scribbling random drawings on your notepad with a Miller’s House Of Pancakes pen in hand. With the scribbling, you mindlessly began to reflect on your week so far; your first full day of lectures went well, and balancing work and lectures hasn't been so bad yet ──but then again, the semester just started. Rent was coming up and you had saved enough to pay your share of the apartment and really other than Monday morning's coffee accident, things have been good.
Monday morning…
Subway girl.
Truth be told, you hadn't stopped thinking about the pretty stranger you met on the train a little over three days ago. Sure, she may have only offered her kindness out of pitty at the sight of your teary face, but it was something touching to you nonetheless. It was something that she needed that day, spmething that went right. You didn't see her on your commute to work earlier today, and a part of you couldn't help but feel disappointed. She was just some girl ──green eyes, freckled cheeks, tall and teasing── you had talked to for no more than five minute and yet your mind couldn't stop replaying her smile and her fingers brushing the curve of your shoulders as she wrapped her scarf around you.
You were hopeless
Eliza comes up behind you, shaking her head with a tut of her tongue as she perches her elbow on the counter beside you. "Slacking off on the job, new girl?" Her brow was arched and despite the edge in her tone, you could tell she wasn't exactly scolding you for it either.
"Sorry," you respond as you straighten yourself up. There's a hint of a smirk on the women's face for a second before she shakes her head.
"You eat?" In the six hours you've been in shift, you hadn't eaten anything other than a pack of fruit snacks you'd taken from one of your roommates snacks in the pantry, but did she really have to know that.
‘Uhm, yes?”
"Liar. That's why you slack off. You don't eat. You have no energy," Eliza shakes her head calling out to the man on the grill before you were even able to argue back.
“Jesse!”
"What!" He responds, annoyance in his muffled voice.
“Ew special”
"I already made you one!" Eliza groans, responding with a "for the new girl, Jesse," in an even more annoyed tone before turning to leave at the sound of table 3 calling for more syrup.
What in the world was an ew special?
An Ew Special as it turns out, was a sandwich with hashbrown and some cheesy ketchup concoction which honestly, was way better than you expected.
The time on your cracked screen marked 10:07 as you made your way into the subway station for your commute back home. Atleast tonight you'd get a decent night's rest before another full day of lectures and another evening shift. And with that, you sat on one of the benches under fluorescent lighting waiting for your train.
Around your neck was the scarf from before, this time it being worn to keep you warm rather than to cover a stain on your shirt, and definitely not because it was a gift from the handsome girl from before. Nope.
It doesn't take long for your train to arrive, and as you walk in, you can't help but glance around for a familiar auburn haired girl. And again, she's not there, what were you expecting? She was merely a kind stranger, one of the few you've encountered and have never seen again, why would she be any different?
The following morning, you follow your usual routine. Wake up, take your vitamin c gummy and see if there's any breakfast worthy left overs before taking a shower, get ready, and leave the 4th floor apartment to make your way to your station. It was a nice routine, one you wouldn't mind repeating the rest of your days in Seattle with the exception of one new thing you've recently had the habit of doing: look around for the girl on the subway, Subway girl.
Subway girl was a smile lost in the tracks. A girl who showed up, saved the day, and blinked out of existence.
It was embarrassing the amount of times you've looked for her only for the same result, so, in order to save yourself another disappointment, you'd instead focuse on yourself and not look around.
And you don't look around, not intentionally atleast, not until a group of late-twenty year olds step off the car two stops into your ride and you catch a glimpse of a familiar auburn girl.
Subway girl. The flannel she had worn the day you'd first met her sat neatly on her lap alowing for a better view of the outlined tattoos on her arms as her white t-shirt sleeves were cuffed below her shoulders.
You couldn't believe your luck.
Her eyes were closed as her head leaned against the window sill, but as she felt your gaze from across of her, she slowly opened her eyes and her mouth formed a soft "oh" in surprise.
"Coffee girl," She smiles, sitting up in her seat as she turned to face you directly. There's a pleasant glint in her eyes as she looked at you, one that you hoped you'd see forever.
“Subway girl.”
Her smile spreads. “Mornin’.”
Your brain tries to reply with a "hi", perhaps ask about her day, but your mouth goes to say "morning", and so what comes out is, "Horny.”
Maybe it's not too late to jump out the emergency exit. You expect her to turn away, wonder why she'd even tried to talk to you, but instead she snorts.
Her eyebrows raise in amusement before she grins teasingly with her voice ever smooth, "I mean, sure, sometimes." She rolls her shoulders back and pulls down her faded green headphones, the ones you saw the day you met her, before setting them on her lap with her flannel and taking out her Walkman to pause her music. It was interesting, you'd never seen anyone actually use a Walkman ──much less walk around with it── but you didn't question it.
"Sorry, I'm─ morning brain. It's too early," you muster out and something shifts in her expression.
"Is it?" Subway girl asks with what seemed like genuine interest.
"Yeah, um... I had a late night.”
Her brows raise again, and you couldn't help but look away as she seemed to try and guess what it was that had kept you up. "Doing what?”
It's not necessarily a lie, but it's not exactly the truth, and really you just needed some cover to not look like an idiot after the word vomit from a moment earlier. "Oh, uh, I had a night shift. I wait tables at Miller's and it's twenty-four hours─”
"Miller's...? As in Miller's house of pancakes on the edge of the city?”
She rests her elbows on her knees and perches her chin on her hands. Her eyes are wide, and curious, her attention solely on you as she awaited your answer.
"You know it?”
She bites her lip, which is fine, and she shakes her head.
"Oh man, I used to wait tables there too," She says. "The owners would argue about how they wanted to name the place so it would always change until they stuck with that.. Jesse still in the kitchen?”
You laugh, her mind blown expression causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Lucky again. "Yeah, he's been there forever. I can't imagine him ever not being there. Everyday as I clock in he's all─”
"Mornin' buttercup," She says in perfect imitation which earns another small laugh from you. "He's such a babe, right?”
"A babe? Oh god," Your reaction gets yet another snort out of her, and as the two of you meet gazes again you both fall into a fit of laughter. It was sweet, and nice, and maybe, just maybe, meant to be.
"Man, there's this thing they serve there now and.. God, it's delicious. I had it the other day, an Ew special'.”
The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that you half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!”
"No way! Really?"
"Ew is a play on to my initials E.W," She explains. "I had Jesse make it specual for me so many times that eventually everyone else started having them too. Can't believe he still makes them there. He might be in love with me or something," She quips.
"Maybe. He makes them all the time and it's absolutely delicious, it definitely brings you back after a long shift, so, thank you.”
“No problem,” Subway girl says. Shes got this far-off look in her eyes as if she were reminiscing on the sights of customers and the smells of the diner, but she shakes the look off and lets out an exhale. “God, I miss that place. I don’t know if you feel it but, something about it… It's magic.”
You don’t do magic, but who were you to say that when she looks so wistful as if there was a deeper meaning behind her words so you simply hum in agreement.
‘I don't know how they haven’t fired me yet. I’m not the worst waitress, promise, but I accidentally dropped a pie on a five-year-old two days ago. We had to give him a free T-shirt.”
It takes a second, but Subway girl laughs, loud and hearty before shaking her head. “You'll get the hang of it soon,” She says with so much confidence that you believe her instantly. “Small fuckin’ world, huh?”
“Yeah…” You agree. “Small fuckin world.”
A comforting silence lingers in the air as you smile at each other. Subway girl is the first to break it as she glances at the scarf sticking out of your bag, “Nice scarf, by the way.”
You forgot you still had it with you so you quickly go to take it out and hand it to her but subway girl is quick to hold up a hand. “I told you to keep it and besides,” she pulls out a blue plaid one out of her bag, “It's been replaced.”
You look between the scarf in your hand and the green eyed girl in front of you, “I, yeah– thank you again, so much. I wanted– I mean, it was my first day of class and i was already late and didnt want to show up looking–”
“Hey, I mean, Its not that you looked bad,” Subway girl counters. “You just… looked like you needed something to go right that morning. So.” She shrugs, and the intercom suddenly comes on, announcing a stop that was barely audible from how unusually garbled it sounded.
Subway girl points over at the board. “Thats your stop right? The one heading to the college?”
Shit. It was your stop.
You realize as you swing your bag onto your shoulder and glance at the girl across from you that you might never get this lucky again. You seeing her again after 4 days of disappointment could have just been the world messing with you, raising your hopes up only to have her leave for good leaving you with only the memory of the pretty subway masc who saved the day and left you wanting more.
“I’m working breakfast tomorrow. At Millers,” You blurt out as you stand up. “If you want to stop by I could sneak you a sandwich. As payback for the scarf y’know?”
Subway girl looks up at you with an expression so strange and unreadable that you feel your stomach drop, of course, you had to find a way to ruin this. Whatever “this” even was.
Her expression clears up however and she smiles again, “Oh, man. I'd love that.”
“Okay,” you say and start walking to the door, still looking at her. “Okay. Great. Cool. Yeah-” You were going to stop saying words any second now. God, you usually weren't this awkward about asking people out.
Subway girl only watches you go, an amused look in her eyes as she moves a strand of hair from her face.
“What's your name?” she asks.
You stop in your tracks and turn around accidentally hitting another passenger getting off with your bag. “Ah– It’s [ ]. My names [ ].”
Subway girl's smile softens as if she somehow already knew.
“[ ],” she repeats. “I’m Ellie.”
“Ellie.. Hi, Ellie.”
Subway girl, now known as Ellie, smiles. She brings her hand up to her face and gives you a small salute as you say her name, a dorky gesture but one you found endearing nonetheless.
There's a little warning bell to announce the door closing so you quickly step off while still trying to keep your eyes on the auburn haired girl.
“The scarf looks better on you anyways,” Ellie winks, and the Subway doors close in front of you.
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TAG LIST ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ @seraphicsentences @amberputh @k1ssesworld @mikellie @williamellieslilho @boobdrug
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justfandomwritings · 2 years
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You'll See Why (Peter Ballard x Reader)
Pairing: Peter Ballard x Female!Reader, implied Steve x Reader (Does not really factor into the story)
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: mostly just fluff and angst that doesn't require a content warning. General content warnings consistent with Stranger Things
Summary: It couldn't be him. She refused to believe it. Eleven had to be wrong, had to have the wrong person. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of something like this; in the back of her mind, she knew he was. More, it was that she didn't want to face what it meant about herself.
Masterlist. Ko-Fi.
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There was a familiar face staring blankly up at her from the page… she knew this face.
“Well, he looks evil,” Steve mused, looking at the drawing over her shoulder.
“He was 001… He was the first. They built the lab to contain him.” Eleven explained.
(Y/n) was holding up the sketch Eleven had drawn of the patient from Hawkins Lab, who Eleven knew as 001, that Nancy had discovered was Henry, that they all called Vecna.  
(Y/n) knew that face.
“(Y/n)?” Dustin touched her shoulder. “(Y/n), are you okay?”
She heard her brother’s voice talking to her, and yet somehow she didn’t register it. He felt, he sounded, so far away.
It felt like an out of body experience, like her thoughts were no longer contained inside her brain, like they were swirling around her in a cloud, consuming her entire world. This was not Henry Creel, could not be Vecna. Eleven had to be wrong. She knew this face, and she knew it all too well.
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“Hi Peter, I see they let you out again. The usual?” (Y/n) smiled brightly.
Peter was her favorite regular at Benny’s, not that he was all that regular. He came in once every couple weeks or so. She assumed whenever the lab could spare him, though he always referred to it as a “reward” for good behavior. Benny’s menu was hardly “reward” worthy. It was decent. Benny was a good cook, but it was just regular diner food. She could think of four other diners in Hawkins that served the same fair, though Benny’s was certainly the closest to the ltab.
He wasn’t a particularly nice regular. He tipped very well, which she appreciated, but most regulars do or they wouldn’t be regulars anymore. Mostly, he was her favorite because he was an enigma. He worked for the Hawkins National Laboratory up the road, and he was very cagey about his work and himself.
“No coffee,” Peter amended without looking up from the papers in front of him.
(Y/n) scribbled haphazardly on the ticket and slid it across the window to put on deck for Benny. There were a couple tickets ahead of it, and that gave her extra time.
(Y/n) dragged the stool out from behind the register and plopped down directly in front of Peter, propping her elbows on the counter and looking at him expectantly.
Peter rolled his eyes but kept them trained on his work. This was (Y/n)’s usual routine any time Peter came into the diner, so he didn’t need to look up to know she was staring him down.
“Must you watch your customers so intently?  I feel like a subject in the lab.”
“Only the interesting ones,” (Y/n) dismissed. “Now tell me; how’s the lab?”
Peter flipped over one of the pages mindlessly. He hadn’t processed all the words, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen if (Y/n) had anything to say about it. He kept up the appearance of reading though to hold her interrogations to a minimal. “It is in its usual state. I am nothing but a humble nurse for the children being experimented upon and tortured within its walls.”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the kind of joke she would have made, but she let it slide. “Yes, of course, but how is your work?”
“Why would you care to know?” Peter dismissed the question.
“Because I’m bored, and like my brother always says life is a curiosity voyage.”
Peter rolled his eyes, “Your brother sounds foolish.”
“Hey,” (Y/n) reached up and smacked Peter lightly on the side of the head, causing him to jolt. He stared at her in utter disbelief, as if no one had ever touched him before in his life, which she found very hard to believe. He was far too high and mighty, full of himself, not to have been bullied as a kid. “That’s my brother. Only I get to mess with him.”
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Nonresponsive and zoned out was not a good thing to be in Hawkins, Indiana in 1986.
“She’s infected with Vecna!” Dustin began to panic, “Quick someone get my headphones from the desk,” Dustin pointed to the desk behind Max, who practically threw the headphones in her rush to get them to Steve as Dustin ran to the small shelf and began digging through Mike’s cassette tapes.
“No, no,” (Y/n) shook aside the memory as quickly as she could manage. “Dustin,” she called to her brother, “Really, I’m fine!”
“Like hell you are,” behind her, Steve forced the plastic strap of the headphones around her neck. “Seriously? How hard is it to find Pat Benatar!” Steve shouted.
“Again, I’m fine,” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, wrenching the headphones off.
They couldn’t afford to waste a pair on her now. She could feel things coming to a head. Over the last 24 hours, virtually all of them had had to procure a pair of headphones and wrap them around their necks. Only Steve, Dustin, Eleven, and herself hadn’t heard the ticking of a clock at some point yet. A low drone of noise was filling the room as songs played from the necks of the other occupants.
“Really!” She insisted to the skeptical crowd of teens staring her down, “no ticking. I was just…” In addressing the room, her eyes found Eleven’s, “remembering something.”
Eleven’s eyes seemed to see right through her, and (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, wavering in whether revealing this information was a good idea or not. Everyone else in the room was staring at her, eyes darting now and again to Eleven.
It was too late to back out now. She took a breath and, watching Eleven’s face intently for her reaction, said the name.
“Peter Ballard.”
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“Hi again Peter, I’ll put the usual on for you.” (Y/n) greeted him with a wave as he came through the door.
This time, when Peter walked in, Benny’s was empty except for herself and Benny. He had his usual folder full of papers tucked under his arm, stamped with the fancy Hawkins Lab’s seal on the cover declaring it was privileged information.
“Thank you,” Peter took up his usual counter seat.
He had a way of being both extraordinarily polite and also incredibly rude at the same time. It was like he had spent his entire life being lectured on manners without actually having a single social interaction in which to use them.
“Benny!” (Y/n) called loudly over the order window, “Peter’s usual!”
Benny was somewhere in the back. With the diner being empty, Benny had ducked out to rearrange the stock while he left (Y/n) to mind the front. “Give me just a minute!” She heard her boss shout back.
“So!” (Y/n) whipped around, leaning back against the order window, “Gonna tell me how work was today?”
“Tiresome.” Peter clipped.
(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, “That’s about as descriptive as you’ve ever been. Was it coworkers or your human test subjects?” She said the last part teasingly.
Peter paused for a moment, still not looking up from his papers, but he seemed to consider her question longer than he usually would before dismissing her. “Boss.” Having answered, Peter immediately went back to flipping through pages, only adding under his breath, “Not that I would call him that, persay. He’s more like my worst nightmare.”
(Y/n) chuckled and approached, taking up her usual seat across from him. “Tell me about it. Last week, Benny didn’t let me off early on Friday even though it was my mom’s birthday, so my little brother recruited his friends to try to bake her birthday cake instead of waiting for me and almost lit my house on fire.”
The word fire seemed to catch Peter’s attention. He still didn’t give her the time of day or meet her eyes, still seemed to think that she was too beneath him for that, but his head did cock to one side. He was listening.
“What’s so nightmarish about your boss?”
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“What do you mean you ‘know’ Vecna?” Dustin demanded.
“He came into Benny’s from time to time,” (Y/n) felt like she was retreating into her skin. Eleven, Mike, Eddie, Max, the whole room. They were all watching her with dark eyes, watching her like they were watching the enemy.
Dustin was staring at her in utter shock. He didn’t notice the looks from his friends or the fear in her eyes. He was still trying to comprehend this massive piece of information.
Only Steve’s hand, resting with a firm grip on her shoulder, was keeping her grounded in the room, keeping her from bolting out the door like a frightened deer.
“And you talked to him? You knew him?” Max joined the questioning, her tone far closer to interrogation than Dustin’s disbelieving one.
(Y/n) shrugged defensively, “Lots of people from the labs came in. We were the closest restaurant. He said he was a nurse. I didn’t know he was the literal devil.”
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“Your boss sounds like a dick, no offense.”
“None taken.” Peter had talked to her. He had actually talked to her. Granted, they were complaining about their bosses, which was the oldest and most basic form of bonding in the book, but still. It was something. “He is.”
“Well,” (Y/n) hopped down from the seat she had taken on the counter while he recounted his tale of woe. “I’m gonna start cleaning up if it’s all the same to you.”
Peter waved his hand down the length of the counter and immediately reverted his eyes back to his papers that were off to the side of the plate he was presently eating off of.  
(Y/n) smirked to herself as she pulled out her rag. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to keep poking at him till she got the answers she wanted.
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It was Nancy who turned the whole scene into a proper interrogation. Though, perhaps given her profession, it was more of an interview. She waved the kids away from the seat in front of (Y/n) and took up a spot front and center in her vision.
“Tell us everything you know about him. Start from the beginning.”
(Y/n) took a breath and recited the facts as coldly and emotionlessly as she could manage. “His name was Peter Ballard. He came into the diner once every couple weeks. Everyone else from the lab came in groups, but he…” Her voice cracked for a moment, and she hoped everyone else in the room saw it as nothing more than the nerves it was, “He was always alone. He barely talked to me. The others said he was a nurse, and that he never talked to anyone in the lab either. He always brought files with him to read. It took months for him to even bother making eye contact with me.”
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“You never went to a proper high school?”
“No,” Peter droned. He still acted thoroughly unamused with her presence, but he had started more readily answering her questions.
(Y/n) huffed and leaned back on her stool, tilting away from him. “Well, that explains so much.”
Peter’s eyes shot up from his paper, and for the first time he met her gaze. Not exactly an angry expression, but at the least a doubtful one, colored his face as his eyebrows drew together. “How?”
“Well,” she let the legs of her stool fall back on the floor with a crash as she leaned forward towards Peter, “Sure, you didn’t have to deal with assholes on the basketball team shoving you into lockers, or girls on the cheer squad making fun of your clothes. But you also never found a group of friends with the same niche interest as you, or a guy to bond with over your mutual hatred of some bully, or a cute girl who thought you were the cutest thing since God invented puppies.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed.
“No, I’m serious,” (Y/n) immediately dismissed his expression. “Sure, there are giant swathes of humanity that are the absolute worst, but there are some humans who are really great when you give them the chance. And you,” she poked a finger into his chest, “never did. You were aware that some people sucked, but you didn’t hang around long enough to find the ones that didn’t before you decided to write all of us off as intolerable.”
Peter pursed his lips and turned back to his files. He wasn’t going to continue this line of conversation.
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“That’s really all I know, Nancy. I swear.” (Y/n) huffed.
“There has to be something though!” Nancy jumped up from her seat and began to pace, “It can’t be a coincidence that you knew him. Can it?”
“I didn’t know him,” She emphasized. “We didn’t exactly bare our souls to each other and get matching tattoos. We were friendly. He came in every couple weeks, ordered the same thing. Towards the end he started making small talk, but that was it. Small talk. He didn’t exactly spell out for me that he had dreams of becoming a mass murderer.”
“Yeah, but what are the odds that you would get wrapped up in all of this?” Jonathan pointed out. “It sounds like you’re the only person he talked to outside of the lab.”
“Pretty freakin’ high, Jonathan,” (Y/n) huffed. “If you haven’t noticed, Hawkins isn’t a metropolis. It’s a pretty small town, and weird shit keeps happening. We’re all wrapped up in it at this point.”
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(Y/n) froze, staring at Peter as he approached his usual seat at the counter. She’d clocked him instantly when he walked in, and instantly had known something was very off.
He looked more or less the same, all white outfit, holier than thou expression. His hair was in its usual blonde waves, and he seemed more or less as agitated with his own existence as he usually did.
“H-Hey Peter, Usual?” (Y/n) asked.
“Yes, please,” Peter replied.
And in that moment she realized it. That moment when he sat there, still looking up at her expectantly, waiting for her to put his order in. That moment when he didn’t look down.
No files.
(Y/n) rushed the order in to Benny and whirled back around to join Peter. There were a handful of other people in the diner, but they were all regulars who’d already gotten their food and knew their way around. She was completely unbothered with doing her rounds to their tables.
“Why no files?”
Peter raised an eyebrow, “Aren’t you the one who’s always bugging me to talk to you?”
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“He’s not here,” Dustin dropped the flashlight back to his side with a huff.
They had gone to the Creel house again, hoping to find where in the Upside Down Vecna was. Now that they had Eleven, with her powers back no less, they wanted to lure him to a place they could face off against him.
“(Y/n),” Lucas called over the bannister from the second floor. “Did Vecna ever mention anywhere else he liked to go? Or somewhere else in Hawkins he felt connected to?”
“No!” (Y/n) shouted back with a huff, “If he’s not here he must be at the lab!”
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“So?” (Y/n) smiled, “Thoughts?”
“It’s… cold.” Peter mused.
(Y/n) huffed and pulled back from where she was leaning on the counter. “That’s it? It’s cold? I thought you were going to actually help me? You know, useful feedback?”
Peter slowly pushed the mostly-full milkshake away from his plate. “I never agreed to help you. You only assumed I would when I came in.”
“Yeah! For a free milkshake!” (Y/n) threw her hands up, utterly exasperated with him, “You have to have more thoughts than ‘it’s cold’. I’m making Benny put milkshakes on the menu, and it’s my ass on the line if they aren’t good.”
“It’s sweet.” Peter added, picking up another fry and taking a bite.
“Ooooh! Thank you so much! That’s so much more helpful.” She bit back sarcastically.
Rolling her eyes, (Y/n) snatched the milkshake away, slurping through Peter’s abandoned straw. She made a face, “Oh, ok… that is sweet.”
Peter didn’t meet her eyes, but he waved his hand and made a face that very much said ‘told-you-so’.
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It didn’t look like anyone had been in the lab since Eleven closed the portal. The bodies had been cleaned up, no doubt by the military coverup team, but the broken glass in the screened in room surrounding the old portal was still strewn about the floor. Hopper’s gun Bob had left in the control room was still on the desk. There were even still spatters of blood every few feet along the walls and stains from dried up blood on the floors.
“So,” Robin murmured quietly to (Y/n), “This is what Round 2 looked like? Man I am so glad I just had the Russians.”
“It doesn’t look like he’s here either. Doesn’t even look like he’s been here at all. There’s no portal,” Will assessed, turning back to the room.
“Fuck!” Mike turned, kicking a wall. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
He wasn’t at his old home. He wasn’t at the lab. He wasn’t at any of the places he’d opened portals that they knew about. (Y/n) was at a loss. There wasn’t anywhere else to look.
He must be hiding, hiding somewhere completely random with absolutely no connection to him. It was the logical thing to do if he didn’t want to be found, but it just didn’t make sense. Sure, Eleven said 001 was a creature completely void of any emotion, set to the singular purpose of restoring order to the world by ridding it of humanity.
But (Y/n) knew that wasn’t true. Hell, the Party should’ve known that wasn’t true. 001 had slaughtered an entire lab in an instant he was so blinded by rage, not even giving them the option to join them that he’d given Eleven. When he became Vecna and was sent to the Upside Down, the first place they knew he’d gone was home. Max had seen the disassembled pieces of the Creel house in Vecna’s inner hideout in the Upside Down. And Henry had talked to Nancy about her visit to his father, about how he’d vengefully plotted his demise.
Even the Peter (Y/n) knew was riddled with emotions, most of them negative, but still they were there. Even when he was putting on a neutral face, she always knew he detested humanity. He hated his job. He…
He’d teased her about her milkshakes, about how much she talked, about high school, about her brother. He’d…
(Y/n) bolted for the door. “Steve, get the keys! I know where he went!” She shouted.
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“So why don’t you ever sit with them?” (Y/n) asked, nodding with her chin over Peter’s shoulder to the lab coats at the table behind him.
They weren’t literally wearing lab coats, but in her mind everyone who worked in a lab was supposed to be wearing a coat. So that’s what she called them. In actuality, they were all dressed almost exactly the same as Peter.
“I mean, I know you hate them, but even you have to get lonely sometimes.”
Peter picked up another fry and put it in his mouth, avoiding her question.
“There must be someone tolerable enough to eat lunch with.”
“I eat with you.” Peter told her, “Do I need someone else?”
(Y/n) felt her cheeks turn a little bit pink, and she tried to swallow it down. “Well no, but you must have friends. Someone at the lab? Or someone from when you were a kid? I know you were homeschooled, but still. Everyone needs friends.”
Peter snorted, and (Y/n) wasn’t sure if it was at the idea of him needing someone or at the idea of having a friend. “Well, I regret to inform you that I just have you.”
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There was a portal, up against the wall of the diner, behind the counter right where she used to sit when she would talk to Peter.
“Dead on, (Y/n).” Steve patted her shoulder, joking, “He must’ve really liked the eggs.”
Grilled chicken with a side of fries and a coffee. Always the same food; didn’t matter what meal it was. (Y/n) didn’t bother to voice that though.
“It’s one of the basketball players,” Dustin pointed out.
A pair of broken, twisted out of shape, legs were sticking out from behind one of the couches the kids had dragged into Benny’s after it was deserted.
“It’s bigger…” Eleven murmured, taking a step forward towards the portal.
Mike caught her arm, pulling her back away from the portal.
(Y/n) didn’t join in, the banter or the analysis. She was staring at the portal.
It was right where she used to sit, literally right there. If Peter had been there, and she’d been in her usual spot talking to him, all she would’ve had to do was tip her stool back, like she always did, and she would’ve fallen straight into the Upside Down.
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“You’re gonna fall over if you keep doing that,” Peter pointed down to the legs of her stool.
(Y/n) rolled her eyes and continued to totter back and forth on the back legs of the stool. “Then I’ll knock my head in and get off work early, and you won’t have to put up with me. Sounds like a win for both of us.”
The front legs of the stool slammed to the ground, and (Y/n) stared wide-eyed, mouth ajar, at Peter.
Peter’s eyes had a fire to them she had never seen. There was something there, something behind his usual disinterested, annoyed expression. Something dangerous.
He had a vice-like grip on her wrist, and (Y/n) was positive that she was going to have a ringed bruise around the bone there in the morning from how tightly he held her and how hard he’d jerked her back forward. Her arm was stretched out across the width of the counter, practically touching his chest he’d jerked her so far back.
The shock in her face seemed to douse the fire in his. “Sorry,” Peter cleared his throat, dropping her wrist.
“N-No, it’s okay.” (Y/n) dismissed haphazardly. “Didn’t realize I was worrying you.”
Under his breath, so quietly she wasn’t quite sure she heard him right, Peter whispered, “Of course you worry me.”
“What was that?” (Y/n) asked.
“Nothing, just don’t want you dead on the floor. The hassle of finding another friend is unappealing.”
“Well,” (Y/n) smiled, though not as brightly this time as she usually did, “you can’t get rid of me that easy.”
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Vecna.
A grey body, void of skin and hair and a face. Vine-like Tentacles protruding from his back, whipping back and forth in all directions as if they had a mind of their own, encircling the party, drawing them tighter and tighter into him.
She knew what Eleven told her, knew the story of how Vecna had come to be, but she just couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t see Peter under there, inside the monster.
She couldn’t see Peter batting away Eleven with a vine, without a care in the world for her scream as she went flying back into a deadened tree.
Not Peter, not her Peter.
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“I’m sorry.”
(Y/n) looked up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in. She’d been too absorbed in the math homework splayed across Benny’s counter to notice anything other than the mental image she’d been constructing of going to watch all of her friends graduate knowing she was going to have to repeat senior year.
“Oh Peter, I didn’t hear you come in. Usual?”
Peter sat down in front of her, which was not in his usual seat. “No, I only… I came here to talk, to apologize, and say goodbye.”
“Wait you’re leaving?” (Y/n) dropped the pencil from her hand. “Are they moving you out of the lab? What’s going on?”
“There’s been a… development. And soon my services will no longer be required.” Peter caught the pencil (Y/n) hadn’t heard rolling across the counter and carefully balanced it back in place in front of her textbook.
“W-Well, where are you going?” She tried, and failed miserably, to hide the disappointment from her tone, “I’m sure they have phones there. I’d hate to leave you with no one to pester you every week.”
“I can’t tell you.” Peter smiled, actually smiled. (Y/n) didn’t know if it was unnerving or endearing. It was the first time she’d ever seen him smile. She got the occasional snear, once in a while a smirk if she was particularly amusing that day. But he never smiled, certainly not like this, sad, disheartened, like he was sorry he had to go. “That’s why I came. I know I scared you last time I was here. I… I showed too much of myself, and for that I’m sorry.”
“Peter, you don’t have to apologize.” (Y/n) reached out, hesitantly and took his hand. “Not for being yourself at least.”
“Oh but I do.” Peter dismissed. Turning his hand over, Peter took hers in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe one day you’ll see why.”
And as easily as he slipped into her life, he was gone.
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“Eddie,” She whispered from their hiding place behind the rock, “whatever happens, can you promise me something?”
“What?” Eddie whispered back to her.
(Y/n) hesitated for a moment before she peeled herself away from the rocker’s side. “Hold Steve back.” Turning to Jonathan on her other side, she patted his arm. “And don’t let him and Dustin do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
(Y/n) was usually an anxious, hesitant person. She was an extrovert to the extreme, but she was also very risk averse. She was the type of girl who walked with her eyes on her own feet, and her arms brought in across her chest at all times. She didn’t exude surety or confidence ever. The three words her friends would use to describe her were skittish, excitable, and self-conscious. With Dart, Dustin had taken the lead trapping the monster in the cellar. In the Byer’s home, she had cowered behind Steve, from the demodogs and from Billy. In Starcourt, her brother had practically dragged her down to the Russian base. She had been the one driving the distraction car, all too happy to put distance between herself, Dustin, and Steve and the Mindflayer.
She was not fearless like Nancy or powerful like Eleven or a natural leader like Steve. In the face of monsters and spies and alternate dimensions, she was scared, like any normal person would be.
But this, she’d convinced herself, wasn’t a monster from an alternate dimension. A monster, maybe, but one she knew.
“(Y/n), what are you doing?” Jonathan tried to grab at her arm, but she moved faster, ducking out of the way as she came running out from behind the rock.
Vecna was baring down on Eleven, standing in front of Lucas, Mike, and Dustin with her arms wide as she tried to push him back.
“(Y/n)!” The shout came from somewhere behind her, but she didn’t look back at Steve as she heard him running after her.
“PETER!” She came to a stop under him and shouted up into the air, at the body in the center of the mass of tentacles.
His head turned, slowly, towards her. “Peter, come down here!”
“(Y/n),” he said, seemingly to himself.
She should’ve been afraid, quaking in her boots afraid. But for once, she just couldn’t seem to manage it.
Somewhere in the distance she could hear Steve shouting, shouting at her, at Vecna, at Jonathan and Eddie for holding him back.
“Peter!” She called again.
The tentacles seemed to whip back and forth through the air, splaying themselves out flat on the ground and slowly encircling where she stood, as they lowered their master to the ground.
“NO!” Dustin tried to jump, but without instruction needed Lucas and Mike grabbed him and held him back.
“Peter, you don’t have to do this.”
“Peter is dead. Your friend,” he spat the word, “saw to that.”
“I know she put you here, but I don’t think Peter’s gone.” A tentacle slithered at the back of her heels, and (Y/n) took a step closer to Peter.
“You always had such idealistic notions.” He snarled, “This is what I am. Not Peter, this.” Two of the tentacles whipped out from the circle they had formed around (Y/n), and latched onto her wrists, wrenching her down to her knees.
(Y/n) shook her head, “I don’t believe that.”
The tentacles tightened around her wrist, and she bit back a whimper in disgust as they began wrapping themselves slowly up her arms.
“Society is a scourge (Y/n). The real curse is not me; it’s humanity.” Peter began walking towards her, the tentacles around her dragging her to meet him.
“Then why haven’t you cursed me? Killed me?” (Y/n) asked, “Everyone else has heard the clock ticking, Peter. But here I am.”
The tentacles were wrapping around her chest now, gluing her arms to her sides. Peter, Vecna, did not respond. He stood directly above her now, her bound defenseless at his feet.
“If Peter was dead then you wouldn’t be listening to me right now.”
One of the tentacles wrapped itself around her throat, but she didn’t feel it constricting her at all. It was like it didn’t know what to do.
“Let them go, Peter. They’re just kids. Scared, little kids like Henry used to be.”
Steve was still shouting and struggling with Jonathan and Eddie, and in her peripheral, it seemed Eleven had joined the boys in holding back Dustin.
“I’ll stay.” She whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “We’re friends right? I’ll stay here, with you. But you have to let them go. Leave them alone, leave Hawkins alone.”
Peter blinked. “You wouldn’t leave your brother.”
He sounded like Peter, the dark, raspy voice of Vecna was gone. He sounded young again; he sounded whole.
“I’ll leave him to protect him. Peter, you live in this place free of people and the society you hated, and it’s still not enough. You never wanted to be alone.” The grip the tentacles had on her was loosening, and (Y/n) tried to stand. The tentacles melted away as Peter saw what she wanted to do. “I’ll stay here, with you. You won’t be alone… But you have to let them go.”
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“NO!” Dustin shoved forward and began pounding on the wall where to portal used to be. “No!”
His fingers tried digging into the wallpaper, into the wall. It had to be there; it couldn’t be gone. He could get back to her. They could save her.
The rest of the party watched in utter silence as Dustin scratched and clawed at the wall, trying to open the portal back to his sister.
No one tried to stop him, or intervene. They were all too stunned to speak, too stunned to move.
The only noise in the room was Dustin, screaming in despair at the wall, and Steve, quietly sobbing in the corner.
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Note:
Thanks for reading! If you like this, please go read my Eddie Munson fic. I'd really appreciate it! I think it's even better than this one, and it meant a lot to me writing it. I look forward to knowing what you think!
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raven-s · 1 year
Text
Beans
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Yall fr, i really have no excuse. It's been a while but I'm back! I really hopw you all enjoy this next chapter.
Tw: Swearing, maybe angst, eventual smut so +18 only please!
This chapter does contain sexual themes so if you are not comfortable please skip it!
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Y/n took it upon herself to prepare some snacks before her stream. Nothing too big, just a few bottled drinks and her favorite bag of chips. She knew that when she was playing with Kaminari, she would be on the computer for a long time, but she didn't want to clean too much after the stream. She looked her outfit over once more, making sure there was nothing on her clothes and that she looked nice for her stream, and for her visitor. She knew that dressing up for Kirishima was easy, but still, she wanted to wear something kind of cute for him today. After the food was prepared, she brought everything to her room and did one more glance over everything. Her PC was booted up with the Minecraft title screen, her setup was all clean, food places around her desk with plenty of space to move her mouse around. Her bed was made up, sheets tucked neatly into each other – which normally it wouldn't be, but she decided to do so anyway due to the company she'd be having. She had her LED lights set to (f/c) to set the mood of her stream. There was a big bean bag chair in the middle of her room set with a small table for Kirishima. Y/n smiled to herself, loving the thought that Eijirou would be over soon. Sighing to herself, she plopped herself down into the beanbag chair, loving how comfortable it felt, wiggling her bottom slightly. She picked up her phone to check the time, seeing that there were only 20 more minutes until the stream before mindlessly scrolling through Twitter. The sound of her doorbell ringing downstairs snapped her out of her trance. 'Finally.' she thought as she laid her phone next to the bean bag chair and hurried down stairs to the front door.
Her feet hit the stairs so hard and fast, she was sure Kirishima heard her on the other side. Y/n stopped abruptly at the front door, hesitating to grab the handle at first. Quickly drawing her hand back to fix her hair and straighten her outfit one last time before answering the door. Y/n looked up at Kirishima, who was casually leaning against the door frame, one arm on the side of the frame, the other slug to his side with his laptop bag. He smiled down at her, flashing that pointy tooth grin she loved so much.
"Miss me?" he spoke to her. Looking at her was the most peaceful thing in the world for Kirishima. No matter what kind of stress he was going through or what went on in his day to day life, Y/n somehow made everything better by just being there. Even the thought of coming over had his nerves all jumbled up. It took everything in him to come see her today. Y/n rolled her eyes and reached her arms out for a hug which he gladly took.
“Well duh! Of course I missed you!” She said back, taking in how nice his scent was. Eijirou pulled back from the hug slightly to look her in the eyes. His lids lowered a bit, giving her a sultry stare.
“Oh yeah?” he began, lifting her chin up a bit with his index finger, smirking at the slight blush forming on her cheeks. “How much?”
Y/n felt like she was in a trance. Honestly, she could stare into his eyes for hours, it felt like looking into a deep red sunset. She felt herself leaning forward and her eyes closing when–
“No, Ei!” She snapped herself out of her trance as she pushed him back. She stared back at him, a look of frustration on her face. “I said not to be horny!” She complained. She turned on her heel and started to walk away from him, further into her house. She heard Kirishima let out a loud and rather obnoxious sigh before locking the door and following her. To this, Kirishima was a bit hurt. ‘Does she not want to kiss me? No, I know she does, I saw how she looked at me. I’m not even that horny right now!’ His thoughts were racing. Was the game really that much more important than he was?
“The stream is gonna start soon, and I need to–.” Y/n gasped as she felt her arm being pulled back. She was yanked back to Kirishima’s chest as he wrapped an arm around her and used his other hand to grab the cheeks of her face. He came down to her face level and pressed his lips against her hard, closing his eyes tightly. Y/n was caught off guard by the sudden pull and passionate kiss she was receiving. She wanted to fight against it, but her body betrayed her, making her melt into the kiss. Slowly she closed her eyes too and kissed back before Kirishima abruptly pulled away. Both Y/n and Kirishima were breathing slightly heavier than before. She opened her eyes to see his burning back at her. This was the same look. This was a look she can only remember the last time they slept together. He looked lustfully angry, his eyes seemed as if they would burn a hole right through her if she maintained the contact.
Y/n’s cheeks felt warm and she could feel it rise to her ears. She knew she told him not to be horny, but something about the way he looked right now was so reminiscent of when they slept together, she could help the thoughts that raced through her mind.
As fast as it had happened, the moment was gone instantly afterwards. Kirishima let go of Y/n and gave her a closed eyed smile. Walking past her and making his way to her room. He turned around to be sure that Y/n was indeed following him.
"Well? Ya coming, slowpoke? Let's go play!" He bubbled to her. Y/n, to say the least, was shook, because ‘Bitch what the fuck? You can’t just do that!’ she thoughr to herslef.
“Yeah, o-okay.” She nervously spoke up and followed him to the room.
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The three of you were actually having a fun time, even with the new addition. All three of you had been gaming for a while by now, knocking out a lot of progress. You had so many people in your chat freaking out that your surprise addition was Thee Kirishima. Thee Gym Husband. There were so many fans of his that were highkey thirsting over him in your chat.
BubbleTeaKing_223: He’s soooo hot in his videos! Tell him I said hi!
TigerQueen:Are you guys dating? Why is he at your house?
echoZell0: [message was deleted]
Wow……Okay, that last one was super vulgar. You had your mods handle the user, a simple timeout, just a warning for now. You hated to admit it but a lot of the comments about him made you feel kinda upset. Kirishima was by no means tied to you and you didn’t have ownership over him, but reading some of those made you feel a bit possessive. You didn’t want to dwell too much on that however. You should be focusing on the game as it was actually very nice to see the positive outcome. Of course, Kirishima ends up living in your already built house instead of building a separate one himself. He was helping you finish your house while working on building underground to make a basement and had tunneled into a cave. Since Kaminari was relatively close to you, you decided to invite him over so you could all mine together.
“Creeper, CREEPER!” You call over to Kaminari, swinging your axe at it. Unfortunately, the creeper ended up exploding, breaking Kaminari's shield and taking 2 ½ of Kirishima’s hearts.
“Fucking dammit, it broke my sheild!” Kaminari shouted. “Dude, I don't have any more iron!” He groaned while people in his chat laughed.
“Well you shouldn’t have wasted all of it on buckets.” Kirishima responds, rolling his eyes and going in a different direction. You laughed at his remark. It was true, Kaminari had a bad habit of wasting his materials on things he didn’t really need. Though, you always enjoyed playing games on stream with him, whether it be Minecraft or Phasmophobia. You shook your head, hearing him whine about how he was saving them to catch axolotls. Opening your inventory, you found you had some iron left over from last time
“It’s cool, KamiSama, I have some. Lay a crafting table down and I’ll make one for you.”
“Eh, actually I’m cool. I think I’ll pack it up for today.” He said. Looking over at your clock, you realized that you all have been streaming for about 5 hours. Sadly, you agreed, not wanting to end the stream but knowing he had other things to do. You both dismissed your Twitch chats and thanked each other for playing, as well as thanking everyone else for watching. You both sent your chats to raid different streamers and end your own. Making sure your camera was off, you sighed and stood up to stretch. Kirishima admired you from the side, watching the way your body moved and stretched. He loved the way your outfit accentuated your curves, showing off just enough for him to get aroused. Man, he almost wished he felt like a pervert looking at you this way, but to be honest, he hadn’t even had the slightest hint of guilt. He was staring shamelessly and he knew it. You turn your head and catch him staring at you, to which he gives a silly smirk, quickly lifting his eyebrows a few times. You stop stretching and roll your eyes.
“Ei, you’re such a dork.” you said to him, earning a pointed tooth smile. Kirishima stood up and came over to you.
“Yeah, but I’m your dork, right?” He asked you, coming in close to you. He bent down to your face, turning to the side to kiss your cheek. Your eyes widened a bit at the kiss, this being a new thing for him to do. This felt more intimate – more romantic – than what you were used to with him. He pulled away and headed for your door, lifting his hand to wave to you.“I’m gonna go get a drink, be right back.”
You stood there, a bit flustered, wondering what his game was. What was he trying to do to you?
You decided to get into something more comfortable since you weren’t streaming anymore, opting for a tank top and some shorts.You turned to put a different game on, deciding you had had enough of Minecraft for one day and opting for an online server of an FPS. You felt hands on your waist and let out a small gasp, turning to see Kirishima leaning over your shoulder. He was pressed up against the back of you, his body – his pelvis right against your backside. Taking a deep breath, you inhaled his scent. God, he smelled so good today, he must have done something deifferent. Cologne? New soap? This fucker, knew what he was doing.
“Whatcha playing N/n (nickname)?”
‘This sneaky little–! He’s using that nickname now?!’ You thought to yourself. This man was really playing dirty! That’s something he calls you when he wants you to get in the mood. You wanted to stop him, you wanted to turn around and tell him to knock it off, but the way he held your hips against his started to slowly make you even forget what you were about to say. Kirishima walked the two of you backwards until he was sitting on the beanbag chair with you in his lap. You didn’t even realize what was going on until the both of you plopped down into the chair.
“Ei, what the hell are you doing?” You asked him, not mad but slightly aggravated. “I literally had one rule! No being horny today!” With this he cocked his head to the side and gave a small laugh.
“I have know idea what you’re talkin’ about. I haven't done anything.” You rolled your eyes at his statement, clearly, he was doing his best to get into your pants, he just hadn’t done it yet. You gestured to the position you guys were in, you on top of him. At this, he lifted his hands in the air. “I’m not keeping you here, n/n. You’re free to get up.” You froze, you knew you were able to get up and walk away, yet you didn’t move. Sitting here on his lap felt natural to you, though it wasn't something you two did often. Actually, sitting here felt rather nice; it was intimate, more romantic than you'd prefer but you caught yourself relaxing into him. His lap was comfortable and his body was warm. To be completely honest, it felt nice to be this close to him, though you know what he was trying to do, you had to admit to yourself, you didn't want to get up. Sighing, you roll your eyes and turn your back facing him.
"Whatever, I'm playing a game." You say, annoyed.
The annoyance soon went away as you progressed through your game. In fact you were so into the game, almost forgot you were sitting on somebody’s lap. With you being focused on the game, you were absent mindedly rocking back and forth, grinding your bottom down into Kirishima’s hips. With your eyes locked onto the screen and your hips rocking back and forth, you hadn’t noticed the predicament you had put him in. Kirishima, on the other hand, felt like he was in his own little heaven, tossing his head back, squeezing his eyes closed, and desperately trying to keep himself quiet. Making noise would break you from your trance, and he wanted to prolong this as much as he could. You hadn’t yet noticed how hard you were getting him, grinding your ass over his now hard cock, distracted by your game, and if he could keep it going, he would.
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It’s been 30 minutes.
30 minutes, Eijirou has sat here, not making a sound as you absentmindedly grinding your hips across his lap. Kirishima bit down, digging his teeth into his bottom lip, concentrating on your movements. He felt himself inching closer and closer to his end from you. All of you. He caught himself thinking of every aspect of your being. The outfit you wore today. The way you looked when you welcomed him. The way you looked beneath him, he could picture it over and over. Being so close to you, god you smelled amazing today. You smell amazing everyday. Your voice and the way it sounded. It was so sweet, music to his ears. He let out a whimper, small at first, but slowly it turned into another. Then another, until he was whimpering constantly behind you.
Hearing this, you stopped and straightened up a bit, turning behind you to see what was happening.
“Ei?” You asked, wondering what was wrong with him.
There it was. There’s the voice he had loved so much. And his nickname? Fuck he thought he was gonna lose it. ‘Yeah say it again. Say my name.’ He thought to himself. He was so lost in his own thoughts he couldn’t even register what was going on.
“Eijirou.” You say again, trying to get his attention. You saw his head thrown back, his eyes were shut and his mouth was slightly open.
Kirishima heard you say his name again, it sounded as smooth as honey. He wanted you to keep going. He heard you in his head, repeating his name like a mantra. ‘Eijirou…Eijirou… Eijirou!’ Fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed your hips and pushed you down onto his lap, leaning forward to bury his face into your neck. He kept his eyes shut tight, letting himself release. His hands gripped the sides of your hips, keeping your ass pressed down as he cums, whimpering as he does so.
You let out a gasp, being caught by surprise being grabbed so quickly and so rough. You put your hands on his thighs, trying to push yourself up off of him.
“Eijirou, what the fuck?” you asked him, confused and frustrated, finally grasping the situation. Kirishima had to catch his breath, slowly opening his eyes and loosening his grip. You push yourself off and stand up, looking down at him. Kirishima was panting softly, taking a few moments to compose himself. As he collected his thoughts, he froze, staring down at the wet spot on his pants. He couldn’t move, he wouldn’t even dare make eye contact with you. He was mortified at his actions.
“Kirishima.” You grumbled. Hearing your voice like this, almost low enough to be a growl, and using his last name. He slowly brought his eyes to meet yours. You were staring down at him with your arms folded, obviously disappointed in him. However, looking into his eyes, you see the remorse he had, honestly sorry for his actions. The disappointed scowl you had before drops from your face and is replaced with closed eyes and a sigh. You pinched the bridge of your nose.
“What the fuck dude! Why? Just why?’” He bolted upright.
“What do you mean ‘Why?’” He began. “I couldn’t help it! You were playing your game and moving around and god you smelled nice and –.”
“Okay stop, stop!” You say putting your hands in front of you. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked behind yourself, seeing the smear of his release across your bottom. Your face scrunched slightly in disgust. “God dammit, these were my good shorts Ei.”
“Sorry.”He said, now hanging his head in shame. He heard you let out a sigh again before reaching a hand out. He grabbed your hand as you pulled him up.
“Wait here,” you told him, stomping off into a different direction, feeling your shorts sticking to your bum all the way. You grimace at the feeling, and it was even worse when you had to peel the sticky fabric off. You got a wet towel and wiped yourself off before changing into a separate pair of shorts you had. Going through your laundry, you also grabbed a pair of red shorts Kirishima had left at your house a few weeks prior, as well as another damp towel for him to clean himself off with. Walking back into your room, you saw him, hands over his crotch and looking down in shame. You couldn’t help but think to yourself that it was kinda cute, how he was covering himself. And you can’t really blame it all on him, you were grinding your ass on him. Though you might not have been aware of the situation, it still happened. And let’s be honest, you can’t stay mad at him. “Here,” you said, holding the towel and the pair of shorts out to him. Kirishima took them, leaving the room to clean off and change before coming back.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He mumbled to you.
“Don’t mention it,” you responded, cringing in your head, knowing that you’ll have to wash the cum off your clothes tomorrow.
The rest of the night was spent eating the rest of the snacks that weren’t eating on stream, breaking the awkward silence occasionally, and falling asleep together. At some point in the night, you had gotten comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed, bypassing today’s ending events. You had fallen asleep, your head resting on his chest. Being asleep, you hadn’t noticed how Kirishima watched you, watching your sleeping form and wished that he could do this every night as he drifted off with you. You also missed the text that came in the middle of the night from a certain somebody.
Y/n's phone
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Hello again, it's me!
Okay fr, I promise I'll start updating more. Lowkey was a bit lazy but I'm here now! Also lowkey thinking of opening asks so keep my writing focused, but not now. Perhaps in the future! In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you ask in the next one!
Masterlist
Taglist(dm me to let me know if you want to be part of the list! Some of you I can't tag, let me know if you cahnged your @: @sugaslilsugabby @katsukis-left-brow @luleck @curlykat08 @batmanzombiefrog @jazzylove @katskeigo @hyenalite @justanotherurl-not @jessicarosequinzelfleck
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skzxlevanter · 2 years
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Can I call you baby?
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hyunjin x gn!reader || college!au (kinda)
getting assigned to your crush for a school project might be one of the best thing that ever happen to you
warnings: self-doubt, a bit of angst if you squint, mentioning of food, petname (darling) ,other than that mostly fluff :))
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“what are you drawing?” you asked while peeking over to the sheet lying on the other side of the table. the blond, and in your opinion extremely handsome guy, just shrugged his shoulders before turning the sheet around for you to see it properly. “i dunno, just random stuff i guess, nothing special” he added before mindlessly going back to scribbling on the paper again.
“uhm, i am sorry to interrupt your drawing, but we actually have to finish that group project, you know” you sighed, taking a sip from the iced coffee as your eyes wandered over the man in front you, noticing the few loose stray strands of his long hair falling on his face, decorating his facial features. before staring for too long, you snapped out of your daze, slightly blushing at how you were caught up on him, hoping that he didn’t notice your stare.
you couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach whenever his eyes were to met yours, your heart skipping a beat when he looks you deep in the eyes while talking to you. in class, hyunjin was rather quiet and taken back, but now that you’re sitting with him one-on-one in a cafe near your campus, you could feel his confidence radiating. not in the bold kind of way, but you definitely noticed small smirks here and there, especially when he caught you looking at him for a little bit too long or when he noticed the pink tint on your cheeks. and if you were honest, it was kinda scary to you. you doubted that he’d ever receive you in the way you receive him, not even sure if he ever noticed you before getting assigned to this group project together.
but here you are, discussing the topics together and writing it all together, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. it took some time, a bit longer than he both of you had planned, but with hyunjin sketching on his paper rather than writing on it and the both of you falling into a playful arguments about which is the best ice cream flavor or just straight up gossiping over some of your professors, work was neglected for a bit.
hyunjin was about to order another coffee, before you suddenly interrupted him from doing so with a loud ‘finished’ and happily throwing your arms up before stretching them after hours of tipping. hyunjin giggled at your action, pressing his lips together as if he was contemplating something important. you were quick to gather your stuff and about to leave as you could feel a light grip at your sleeve holding you back.
“uhm, y/n… do you want to walk around with me for a bit…?? i know a nice place and the sun is out so it’d be a perfect opportunity-“ he stopped stumbling to check your face for a response. you were settled back, not expecting him to do anything like that, but as hyunjin seemed to grow more nervous with every second passing, you gathered your racing thoughts and agreed with a big smile on your face, causing hyunjin to let out a relieved sigh before motioning towards the door of the cafe.
the two of you were walking on the sidewalk together, hyunjin leading the way for you and throwing in a few comments about the sceneries you walked by. after a rather short walk, he suddenly stopped, causing you to bump into him, almost making the two of you fall. you were about to complain to him for stopping so suddenly, when your eyes wandered over the gorgeous scenery in front of you. there was a little platform facing a small river, big sunflower fields decorating the space around it and it was truly the most beautiful thing you’ve seen.
“do you like it” hyunjin asks, carefully side eying you while nervously biting down in his lower lip.
“i love it ,” you whispered, taking in the sweet scent from the flowers mixed with a small hint of hyunjins perfume “this is amazingly beautiful, really”.
hyunjin started smiling immediately, mumbling a quiet “i knew you’d like it” before softly grabbing your hand to lead you towards the empty bench that was standing on the platform.
“you know i sometimes come here to draw, it really calms me down,” he started telling “and no matter how often i’ve been here already, it’s breathtaking every time” he looked at the river for a bit longer, taking in the scenery, carefully looking at the little details of the place, before turning to you.
hyunjin looked like he wanted to say something, but surprisingly he didn’t. he turned back around to face the scenery, the confidence from earlier seemingly vanishing. and as you looked over his face, you could swear that there was a small tint of pink on his face.
could it be possible that he liked you back? or is it just your imagination playing tricks on you? or could it be-
“you’re staring, darling”
“goddamnit”, you thought, innerly slapping yourself . you must’ve zoned out a bit and then-
“is evert thing alright ?” hyunjin asked, his voice filled with concern rather the mocking tone from before.
“ihm yes, i’ve must’ve zoned out a little- sorry” you answered, awkwardly scratching your head as hyunjin looked again once again.
“you know”, he said after another short moment if silence, “ i always wanted to bring you here someday”
your head shot up in surprise, not expecting him to ever say something like that.
“me? but why, we barely ever talked?” you asked back, still unsure if tou heard that right.
“i know… it sounds a bit weird, doesn’t it?” he paused as he huffed at himself ,” but i just had a feeling that you’d be someone to appreciate this- you see, some people would come here, take one look before going back to their lives as nothing happened- but for you, i just got the feeling that you’d enjoy it- not just looking at it but sort of feeling the beauty and calmness of this place, so i thought i’d bring you here”
“wow” was the inly thing you managed to get out, baffled by his words. but technically, he was right- the incredible feeling you’ve got since you got here was something you’ve never felt before, you felt just as you were in the right place.
“it’s not weird, don’t worry - and besides that, i really like it” you said, taken aback by hyunjins sudden eye contact as you spoke. his eyes wandered up and down your face, taking a stop at your lips, causing your heart to skip a beat. you could feel the butterflies in your stomach getting all wild again and you wanted to do nothing more than to lean in right now.
you wanted to take in more of him, feel him close, smell his sweet perfume even more- you wanted him. and before your mind went racing completely,you leaned in to put your lips on his. it was a rather short kiss, his plump touching yours for inly a second, but it sure felt like heaven.
but before you could pull away completely, you could feel his hand softly gripping your chin, a smile appearing on hyunjins lips before pulling in for another kiss, this time longer but still careful and filled with softness, the both of you smiling into the kiss once more before finally pulling away.
you stayed close for a few more moments, both turned towards the scenery, processing what just happened as his hand found yours. but the comfortable silence didn’t hold on for long, your phone ringing loudly, causing you to shift positions before you were able to take the call.
it was a short conversation, not all to long with hyunjin attentively looking at you with every second passing.
“i’m sorry but i think i have to go back- my roommate needs me for some reason” you said, slowly standing up, causing hyunjin to follow.
“sure, i mean i already took a lot of time from your day-so no hard feelings. but you’re gonna call when you have time, alright?”
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cinnachaos · 5 months
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i think when people say love is what makes us human they only think about the oxytocin chemical reaction, but to me love is all that is good. ramble below
so many people with cluster b disorders and aromantic people get excluded from the terminology of love and i think its really weird because everyone experiences love in different ways, whether you feel it in the typical emotional way or not. love is so vast and loose in definition so how about i describe my feelings on love?
love is that kind action you did for somebody in need. love is that bowl of food and minutes petting a stray cat outside. love is spending time out in nature. love is creative passion. love is the way your interests make you feel. love is the way you feel with your loved ones, platonic romantic familial or other. love is what compels you to understand others and be kinder to those you dont understand. love is the nice things people do for you. love is all that is good, for people animals plants and the earth. it can be a mild feeling, it can be nauseatingly strong—it can be nothing at all, even—but you doing something good for yourself, others, or the environment is love. maybe your form of love is just making sure your actions driven by symptoms dont hurt others like people have hurt you. love doesnt even have to be something you do for "good intent", while that should be something people strive for its not required. doing good and spreading love is always good no matter your intent. everyone is complex, not everyone feels the same, not everyone can be held to the same moral standard, and thats ok. you will be/are loved by something, and it doesnt have to be the typical type of love either. it doesnt have to be sentient, human, or alive. we all are a part of one bigger picture, and we all have the ability to be good/spread love in us
being a good/bad person isnt inherent, its mostly just loose terminology based on whether people spread good/love or hurt/bad in this world. hopefully people strive to leave more of a good mark on this world, and i hope that more negative and harmful people realize that theyre hurting people and stop. maybe. not everyone can be bettered as its hard to reach some people, but i still keep room in my heart for those out there who do want to change. (and im not saying you have to enjoy negative harmful people. i dont enjoy those people either, and i despise people who mindlessly hurt/oppress others, but i know theyre human. society was made to help every single individual live as good of a life as they can, and deeming a whole portion of it rotten is fairly closeminded. im still not gonna talk positively about them, but thats just my personal choice. i have a very strong drive for justice and hatred for injustice so i try my best to be open minded but sometimes i have to draw a boundary for my own wellbeing.)
now im not saying everyone has to identify with the term, its been used to dehumanize people yes, but i hope my view makes someone feel a little better about themselves <3
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thestralluvr · 9 months
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Daylight
CHAPTER III
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This lust is a burden that we both share, two sinners can’t atone from a lone prayer.
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Ever since that odd afternoon Y/N’s mind had been enraptured by Neville. Not like that was an odd occurrence or anything, but now more than ever they found when they’d drift off daydreaming of a certain starry eyed boy their eyes would meet with his. Neville also had become even more enamoured by Y/N since finally getting a chance to talk to them, even if it was just once, it was enough to start a wildfire from within him.
Neville had tried now more than ever to be kinder to them, to not hold back on giving them a small smile or wave when he’d catch their eye.
Being seated next to one another in Defence Against the Dark Arts had its perks, that was for sure. More than often Y/N would find more small messages or drawings on their piece of parchment, always in the same neat scrawl.
Y/N didn’t have anyone to talk to about those conflicting feelings of theirs, often leaving them to resort to spending most of their time with animals, magical and Muggle. More often than not you’d be able to find Y/N aimlessly talking to their cat, Onyx.
Onyx was a good listener - well, as good as a listener as a cat could be. He’d always sit there, curled up in their lap as they’d ramble about all the things great and small whilst stroking his fluffy coat. Y/N appreciated his kind demeanour, he was truely a lovely little companion.
It was a frigid Saturday morning, the grass in and around the grounds of Hogwarts was covered in a light frosty glaze. Y/N had walked with Onyx trotting alongside them from the kitchens, basket stocked with spare meat from the house elves, down to the Forbidden Forest to accompany the Thestrals.
They had their Muggle portable Walkman clipped to the waistband of their trousers, the headphones snug over their ears blasting the melodic tunes.
The Walkman was a gift from Remus and Sirius before they started the new school year. On it were the songs they had fell in love to, or as Sirius dramatically called it - the soundtrack to their love, always earning an annoyed sigh from Y/N and Remus. They adored the love that Sirius and Remus had for each other, although they highly doubted they would ever be able to achieve something like it, it was always nice to imagine while the soulful lyrics sung to them.
Y/N found themself mumbling mindlessly to the maine-coon about their plans for the forest, unbeknownst to their words being heard by Neville whom was reading in the courtyard before being alerted by the sound of their voice.
Neville weighed out his options, his friends were all busy - leaving him all alone. And he was be willing to take any chance he got to get just a small, singular moment alone with the one who had a hold of his heart. But, he didn’t want to come off too strong and frighten them, or seem like a stalker for following them out to the forest…
Neville shut his eyes and took a deep steadying breath, he opened his eyes and slammed his book shut, standing up. Sometimes he’d just have to take a little risk to get an opportunity.
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Y/N made their way leisurely down to the forest, taking their time. Hogwarts and its grounds was a beautiful sight. Yes, there were times when it was well, pretty shit. But the beauty of the grand castle, the glistening lake, the surrounding trees that stood tall? That beauty never faded. The grounds would be covered with a thick snow during winter, autumnal leaves scattered on the dry grass during fall, the grass peppered with bright flowers during the spring, the beauty never faded even during the blistering summer heat. Y/N found Hogwarts beautiful all year round, they always loved to take it in any chance they got.
They reached the forest and began to trek through the dense moss and try not to loose their footing over the raised tree roots to reach the thestrals, Onyx taking his time to sniff and paw at each and every new plant he came across.
They saw them grazing in a clearing in the distance, their gentle haunting cries echoing through the forest barely audible over their music. They reached the gaunt animals, wandering to the mother, she was always such a gentle soul. They whispered softly to her whilst gently caressing her muzzle. They reached into their picnic basket and offered her a piece of meat, she accepted it greedily - making them laugh to themself.
The gentle creature nuzzled into their side, they complied with her want for attention by scratching her between the ears. Y/N had grown quite close to these animals, having been able to see them since practically birth with a mother like theirs. Themself and Luna Lovegood were the only ones who seemed to care for them. Many people with the ability to see them tried to steer clear of them, not bothering to see beyond their different looks, that was something Y/N related with all too well.
Onyx was curled up on a tree stump a few metres away, taking in the scene for himself. Until he was alerted by the sound of crunching leaves under boots, his owner however was still blissfully unaware of the intrusion, too enraptured in the company of the thestrals and the blaring tones in their ears.
Onyx ran over to the new addition to the forest, splaying on his back for pats.
Y/N looked to see what had the usually reserved cat so intrigued that he’d run up to it, and lo and behold it was Neville Longbottom.
Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight, Neville crouched down smiling at Onyx rolling on his back, quite happy with being stroked on the stomach.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear anyone coming!” Y/N apologised, taking off their headphones.
Neville stood back up, Onyx smoothing himself on his pant legs. “It’s quite alright, Y/N. I- well, I came here looking for you…” He admitted quietly, “Not in a weird way though! I just thought- well we don’t get many chances alone together, I thought I should take the opportunity.” He raised his eyes to meet theirs nervously.
“Oh?” Y/N was taken aback.
“Yeah… I just- I feel like whenever we get these small moments together I have to spew out everything I wish I could say to you.” Neville took slow steps towards them.
“I’m confused, you’re supposed to hate me the most, Neville. You’re supposed to despise me…” They questioned.
He sighed deeply, “I know, believe me i’ve told myself that ever since…”
“Ever since what?” They asked softly.
“You know how I said I feel like have to tell you everything when we get those times alone with one another?” He displayed a small smile.
They nodded, “Yes? What’s this about, Neville?” They furrowed their brow in confusion.
“I feel like if I don’t say this now I won’t get another chance to,” he took a breath, gathering all his courage. “Y/N, I don’t know how it’s possible, but the way I feel for you, it’s something I’ve never felt before, for anyone! Y/N, I really, really like you - romantically, that is…” He confessed.
Y/N shook their head in confusion, the forest had never been so silent. “You hardly even know me at all.” They attempted to reason.
“I really, really want to though.” He stared strongly into their eyes, a pleading look.
Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, they’d never in all their fifteen years had somebody say such words to them.
They were picking nervously at their nails. “It isn’t possible for anybody to feel that way about me…” They said, more to themself than to Neville.
“Y/N,” he delicately took their hand in his, “I am living proof. You are so worthy of being adored.” He grazed their hand with his thumb, “I said it before and I will say it again and again until it sticks, you are not her. You never have been and you never will be.” He said softly.
“I’ve seen how you treat people, with utter kindness and respect. And despite not having it returned you don’t let your kindhearted ways fall. You are a true, loving person, Y/N.” He comforted.
The tears that pricked Y/N’s eyes had overflown and run down their cheeks, “I- god, Neville.” They laughed softly. “You’ve such a way with words,” they smiled. “I trust you. I trust your words, I trust that you genuinely feel that way towards me…” They gathered their own Gryffindor bravery.
“I feel the exact same way, I have for a while now… and i’ve felt so alone. Not just because I haven’t had anybody to talk about it with besides my cat,” they laughed wetly, “because I felt like I had betrayed myself by having these feelings for you.” They looked into his eyes, bearing their entire heart and soul to the boy in front of them.
Upon hearing their confessional words, Neville was filled with emotions. He smiled giddily before enveloping them in a crushing hug, sending the pair of them into the pile of soft leaves beneath them, his hand on the back of their head, bracing the impact.
They landed and looked to one another before bursting out in laughter. The forest that was heavy with a thick and anxious silence only moments before was filled with a pure, joyful laughter.
Their laughter eventually dissolved down, they lied there looking into each others eyes, close enough they were breathing the same air.
Neville’s eyes left theirs as he took in their features, he felt like the luckiest man on the entire planet that he could share this very moment with them.
He noticed a stray leaf had entwined itself in their hair from the pile beneath them, Neville reached out and gently plucked the flora from their hair, trailing his fingertips down to their cheek, cupping it affectionately.
“Could I-“ He was cut off from saying any more as the sound of dreamy humming was heard from nearby. Y/N had often heard the sound emit from Luna as they passed one another in the halls.
Y/N and Neville scrambled apart and stood up, it was then Y/N’s turn to give him an apologetic look and leave, not before brushing a lone leaf from his own hair, tucking the lock covering his eyes behind his ear and leaning in to give him a soft brush of lips on his cheek. Leaving Neville to stand there with a face as pink as Umbridge’s wardrobe as he attempted to compose himself.
A raspy croak was heard from within his jumper pocket, Trevor apparently wanting to give his input on the event. “I know, mate, I know.” Neville whispered astonishingly to himself - he had never smiled so brightly, before abandoning the forest.
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thecoolerliauditore · 10 months
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HEY ANON! Idk what it is but im feeling super duper extra forgiving and kind today so I've decided to actually type up a response to that ask but im answering it like this cus i don't wanna subject my followers to having to scroll thru what u wrote 👍
stuff below the cut (heed the warnings in the tags)
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this is the context, for those curious
FIRST OFF this is so so so SO not okay to send to anyone but ESPECIALLY not a stranger on the internet. Anon you are so lucky I am as comfortable as I am reading and talking about depression/suicide and (I hope) you didn't send this to someone who it could potentially trigger and that I am as normal as I am and not someone who would respond to this callously.
This is such a jump from "i don't draw good", nobody on this website is your therapist or your parent and nobody owes you the time of day to hear you vent. You really don't deserve a response at all but I am doing this because 1. I am nice and very very bored and 2. I believe I used to kind of be like you so I'm somewhat sympathetic.
That being said re: the 'draw more' comic
Anon not everything is about you or directly addressed to you. The message of that comic isn't to just draw more (if anything, mindlessly grinding art isn't the most productive studying you can do once you reach a certain skill level imo), it's to illustrate your mindset and why it's flawed.
The artist in that comic is frustrated with their own progress and skill only because they cannot see the 100x amount of work their more experienced counterpart put in. That doesn't mean their own effort doesn't matter, it just means they have no sense of scale and don't understand why, when they've done so much, they aren't as skilled as those around them.
It's this mindset that inevitably leads to the assumption that other people are just born more talented or didn't have to work as hard for their skills when they certainly did (this might not have been what you intended to say but using words like "life is unfair" paints a very specific impression). Which is. Frustrating, you could imagine, for those of us who have pushed through that period of growth only to be met with "oh woe is me, not blessed by the art muse like your holiness".
I put that there because your message reminded me of it. The last thing it's meant to be is a direct message towards You to Draw More.
re: learning art
My guy nobody is happy with their art straight away. I wasn't happy with my art for like. 6 years.
Learning art is as much of a mental battle as it is a physical one. The improvement over time chart is something I've tried to keep in mind for years when it comes to those "dip" periods in which it suddenly feels like you suck.
I've seen quite a few people touch on it in recent years but the first time I saw it was in this Sycra video.
youtube
Just like a bad mental health day due to seasonal depression I found it much easier to bear once I could sense a 'dip' period incoming and braced myself for it. I even.. kind of learned to enjoy it and accept it as part of my growth process because it was a sign I was going to improve enormously in the coming month or so. but that might just be me lol.
Eitherway, hope this helps 👍speaking of that though
re: depression/suicide/mental health
Let's be honest with ourselves here there is something much deeper going on with you in your life if Drawing Pictures gets you feeling suicidal.
Art isn't this all or nothing thing, you're allowed to take breaks for years and then come back fresh, you're allowed to start drawing at age 98. There's no expiry date on it. It's not professional gymnastics.
What I'm trying to illustrate here is that art is clearly a symptom of a bigger problem in your life that has you taking this attitude with yourself and the way you talk is doing anything but helping your case. You know what's especially unhelpful tho is venting to faceless block man artists on tumblr about this who don't know your personal circumstances or like.. who you are at all. seriously.
This is a problem you're going to have to fix yourself. "seek therapy" is the stock standard answer that we would all love to accept but that isn't realistic for alot of obvious reasons. I can't say what would work for you but personally I'd advise looking to online free mental health resources (forums like reddit are a last resort but if you can find the right space for that then what works works).
If you want an artsy spin on it I'd recommend literally any number of artists' youtube videos on their artistic journeys and their own struggles with impostor syndrome, insecurities, depression, etc. Off the top of my head I recall Jazza has made a few over the years and i adore these marco bucci videos in particular.
The bottom line is that you're going to have to help yourself, Anon. You can't expect others to make themselves smaller to make you more comfortable, you have to create that space for yourself.
We can all uplift each other but no one's going to respond kindly if you come out of the gate downplaying everyone else's efforts.
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dream-diary-1946 · 5 months
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For prosperity!!!!!
Info: Sort of human au, Dream is still immortal, contains just a brief mention of gore / Midly (lol) inspired "The terror" (by Ryan Prows) from v/h/s 94
Ship: Dreamling
(obvs no beta cos this is me trying once again a new method of getting into write stuff...instead of drawing..andsjcvka)
The sunlight hit the snow making it shine, more bright and more insufferable, exactly like the days before this one.
It was still winter, perhaps…perhaps not, there is always a debate between those who think winter ends once Christmas and all related festivities are done and those who know winter ends near march and so.
It´s a never ending battle, each morning, having to hear the same type of conversation between his “companions”, only with different subject to banter off. Mindlessly, annoying, and overall, a trait humanity was very fond of, Dream knew that very well, if being older than a millennium has taught him something, is that people enjoy this kind of civilized “conversations”
Even if such  take some detours to dangerous territories… Although when that happened here, they were at least, a bit of entertainment for Dream, just a little.
And in a place like this… hidden from society, not a single soul near by, no television, no radio, no telephones, no books outside the ones he brought with himself at the beginning of the job, no nothing.
All isolation.
Well, not entirely, he still had his showmen from time to time, but still, the lack of human interaction  was making his head hurt. Dream did not enjoy the complex rituals of socializing with the other that were the “norm”, he found pleasure and joy in seeing people from afar, wondering about their life, problems, their needs and wants.
He was a storyteller after all, and stories he created while appreciating those around him. He loved people, just…in a different manner, that was it.
Unfortunately, he couldn´t say he loved his current situation.
It was supposed to be a “few months only” recruitment, assurance that it was a safe deed given to him by his brother. So he took it, following the good faith that Destruction was conveying to him.
“This might be a nice change for you!, trust me, it does wonders just to be in a different setting…”  
And to be he was, but not in a pleasant way, Dream was getting tired of the secretism of the men in charge, the constant bickering of the clowns from the camp, and the cold that his body forgot how to deal with, consequence of the invention of heaters in modern times and before that, chimneys.
Oh, humanity, how wonderful you can be in times of need...
Dream was becoming more and more irritable, more akin to explode with just the tiniest thing. He was done, he wanted to go home and soon, the only problem…
The only big problem was that he couldn´t leave until the end of winter (How he wished winter did actually ceased once Christmas was over)
This was an “unofficial government thing” (he doubted, no one in his right mind would allow civilian folk to do this type of work for the government)  The higher ranks never told them about what this “something” they were supposed to keep safe was.
The only instructions given were:
Make sure the main area is well watched and secured. Don´t leave your weapons, carry them always with you, even off duty.
Never go into the main area unless a supervisor tells you to do so. Never go alone.
If needed, shot to kill anyone who goes near the main area or-
The  or  was for whatever was inside, everyone were made sure to understand that the moment they arrived here.
Dream was seriously thinking of confronting Destruction about where he was getting his little jobs from. Destruction better be prepared, for Dream was not going to endure any more days here.
…But first, he was going to fulfill his curiosity, just for the sake of a good story.
He continued to watch the snow being painfully painted by the sunlight, the movement of a fight from the showmen making it a picture difficult to forget, the hidden meaning of nature and men laying in the whole frame.
He decided to take the chance in his night watch, his only plan was, taking a peek inside the main area and then leave, that was all, if anything else came along the way, well…he wasn´t going to dismiss it.
He made sure that the men in his shift were sadistically the most lazy or clumsy, he had to observe their schedules and behaviors in the past weeks for it to be perfect match (Dream might also just moved here and there some names from the night watch list in anticipation, to get  the ones that he needed for the “freedom” day to work)
Today was the day winter finally ended.
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Night soothed the snow.
Dream moved slowly, making sure he was seen by the cameras just the right amount for it not to be suspicious. He glanced his wristwatch often, Dream knew that the one in charge of the camera room always took a “fast” visit to the bathroom at a certain time frame. It was the only chance the cameras were alone.
Minutes go slower, tedious, but he was a patient man, he could wait. And the moment the numbers went from 2:45 to 2:46, Dream moved to the entrance of the tiny building.
He tried his best to not step so hard on the snow, any noise outside the usual would be a red flag for his “comrades”.
He went inside the place, with the mindset that his life was in danger from making such act… well, it wasn´t like it was a matter of life and death though, he couldn´t die, but immersing himself in the paper was something that made the whole deal more…interesting.
The more he walked…the stench of rot and filthiness became stronger, it was almost unbearable, what kind of thing was being held here in the first place?
Dream´s footsteps echoed in the tiny walls of the building, the dim green light from the ceiling only showing faint spaces,making the place feel more claustrophobic than reality, curiosity transformed into a mix of anxiety and fear, Dream could feel his heart pumping in his chest, each pump louder and louder, he thought for a moment, that his betraying heart might give away his location.
He finally reached a single door, one made of steel and with a single rectangular frame, a window of sorts, he didn´t thought about getting keys for some “hypothetical door” at the beginning of the deed, but again, he lacked a plan.
But doors are meant to be open, and this one will too.
He looked at his watch, only three minutes had passed. A lifetime there.
Even if lock picking wasn´t his thing, he was better than anyone else, dead or alive (or at least that´s what he wanted to think) Another quick glance to the watch, another two minutes. Time was moving, adrenaline rushed in, and with a soft click, the door was finally open.
With his rifle awaken and ready to fire at any moment, Dream took the first peak at the room.
The smell of death was stronger there, he could at least make two or three farm animals tied up from a wall, sleeping. The floor was covered in dried up blood and viscera, the footsteps of boots and animals tracks everywhere, embedded onto the floor, overlapping.
There wasn´t anything else, besides some buckets filled with some organic waste and a few dirty and tore up blankets in a corner near the door.
It couldn´t possible be everything here though?
Dream ventured himself further, he could feel the sweat emanating from his hands, the hold on the rifle unflinching.
There was movement, the sound of chains creeping on the floor, slowly, like a snake seizing up and waiting. Darkness took the room, light couldn´t touch upon it, for a moment he stood there, and the thing, the thing inside the room too, both unsure of what to do or if to do something at all, Dream could feel it, the weight of a stare on him.
No animal stare on earth ever felt like that.
A lifetime cut short by the sound of the alarm.
Red colors painted the whole place, the light moving as in a cheap nightclub, the music of the alarm and the cries of the animals indicating  the beginning of the party.
With the new born light, Dream could finally saw it, or rather him.
The red hues illuminating partially his malnourished face, covered in crusts and blood, beard untrimmed and hair covered in knots, he was not moving, just staring with those warm eyes full of curiosity, and hunger, still watching Dream. Both refused to move. Dream heard the yell of men behind his back, the animals hitting, screaming and spasming in fear, the siren going on and off continuously, but he maintained the stance he had when he took the first step into the room.
The man raised his chains into the view, offering them to Dream, he was begging with no words to be set free. He lowered his face, shaking, the chains adding a new sound to the repertoire.
He waited for mercy, how long…
How long he waited for a chance like this?
So Dream took the tribute of the man, and fired directly to the steel, pieces flying all over the room, the light bouncing from them making a parade, smoke merging in the air… whatever the outcome, Dream just wanted to see how the story would unfold next.
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s1ater · 3 years
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the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader
summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen
warning/s 🚫: swearing
slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮
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part one, part two
hawk: miss me princess?
you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.
he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.
y/n: you flatter yourself too much
hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos
y/n: other than them being nightly, sure
hawk: i’m a busy man
you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”
y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh
you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.
he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs. 
hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to
y/n: that’s a lie
hawk: is it?
y/n: i’d love to see you
hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face
y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?
but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.
you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.
hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy
you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.
it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.
y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over
hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao
eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.
he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.
y/n: sorry bud
hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)
°•
it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.
you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.
you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.
your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home. 
“need a ride?”
you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you. 
eli.  
“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night. 
“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”
“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself. 
“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was. 
“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face. 
“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car. 
he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”
“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination. 
it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy. 
he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them. 
because he wanted to fuck you. 
“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made. 
“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew. 
and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on. 
“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?
it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do. 
but you really wondered. 
“uh- i, what?”
you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.” 
wow, really? 
he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent. 
fuck. 
he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”
no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad. 
you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”
but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about. 
“wow.”
“you wouldn't be the first.”
“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s. 
he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him. 
“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard. 
“anytime, princess.” 
masterlist
💒
join the taglist lil doggy
@bigbilliamdenbro @axastasiasstuff @spiderman-berries @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @teti-menchon0604 @lydiaamphlett @notyourfuckingbusinesss @estupidteen @torynicholsgf @nessa1107 @carpioassists @vhscherry @simplytpwk @sinicalh4wk @write-from-the-heart @hawkwhore @hawkandtory @lovelyyy-luna @itsnotsoni @w0nderr @deadbeatbarb @bebybailey @mrfeenyisswag @supernaturalcat7 @hawkshairdye @amongtheweepingwillows @mya-bleu @disgustedchild @ktz-bb @venussecrets
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onceupon · 3 years
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London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance
summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.
pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)
warnings: swearing, drinking
word count: 4.6k
a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 
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Part 1 Part 2
Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 
As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 
“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 
“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 
“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 
“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 
“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 
“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 
“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 
Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 
“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.
“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 
“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.
“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.
“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 
“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 
“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.
“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.
“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”
“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.
“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 
“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.
“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“
“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.
“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”
“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”
“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 
“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”
“A vibe?”
“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.
“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.
“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”
You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  
“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.
“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.
“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.
Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.
You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 
“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.
“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.
“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 
“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 
“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”
You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 
“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.
“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.
“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.
“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 
“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?
 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 
You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.
“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.
“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.
“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”
“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”
“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.
He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.
“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.
“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.
—-
“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.
“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.
“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.
“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.
You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 
“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.
“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.
“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 
“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.
“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.
“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 
“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.
“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.
“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.
“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 
“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.
“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.
“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.
“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.
The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.
Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”
It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.
Snapchat: Rafe Cameron
You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.
When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.
You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.
Almost immediately you get a response back.
Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.
Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.
Rafe Cameron: be over in 5
You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.
“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 
“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 
“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”
“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”
“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.
“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.
“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 
“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.
“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.
One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.
When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 
“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.
You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”
“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.
“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.
“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.
---
Part 4
a/n: lemme know what you think!(:
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bvccy · 3 years
Note
Hi!!! Hope you're doing great
Can I please have a mix between number 2 from the soft and 8 from the dark one
Thanks, lost of love ❤❤❤
Thank you so much, nonnie! I am so sorry this took so long, I meant to post yesterday but it wasn’t done. Also, the 8th dark prompt was requested just before you sent in this one, so that is filled separately here.
I tried to do the mix you asked for, and I took the liberty of writing this with Bucky (specifically 40s!BB), and I hope that it’s ok. It’s a bit of a more specific story, actually, that I’d wanted to write for a while. I also did a kind of first for me, because it involves Steve x reader as a backdrop 😂 Anyway.
Lots of love to you too, my dear! 💗💗💗
— PAIRING: soft!dark!Bucky x Reader • preserum!Steve x Reader — PROMPT: Asteria - gazing at one’s object of affection, from afar + Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.5k
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It had taken long enough, and sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but he finally found Steve a girlfriend — or rather, his girlfriend found him one. Dottie had exhausted several of her close friends and most acquaintances, but she knew how tired Bucky was of seeing his friend mope around, feeling like a third wheel, getting into trouble to pass the time. And honestly she liked Steve too, just not like that — but, wonder-worker that she was, Dottie found a girl that did.
She agreed to come on a double-date one night, and she and Stevie hit it right off. It was the first time Bucky met her too, and he didn't think much of the girl. Small, shy, not quite sickly-looking but not far from it, shoes a bit scuffed, clothes a bit too big for her and smelling of plain soap — in a word: perfect. She was perfect for his sickly, skinny friend who nobody else wanted, and by the looks of things, nobody had wanted her either because she seemed to have no idea what to do around a dance hall. As they were returning home that night, he even heard her confess to Steve that she had never been to one before.
They went out on two more dates, all four of them, within as many weeks. Bucky loved to dance, and Dottie too, but Steve and his girl weren't so fond of tripping over their feet and being laughed at. So they sat together at the table like a pair of broken toys, sharing an ice cream sundae, swinging shoulder-to-shoulder with the music when they liked the tune. Bucky waved at them when their eyes met, and they waved back and cheered at his dancefloor performance, but that happened less and less as they got caught up in each other. Steve would start to sketch things on the napkins while they chatted: the band, the sea of dancers, the fancy chandeliers, and eventually her.
"She said nobody's ever drawn her picture before," his friend said dreamily as they walked back, after they wished a good night to the girls. "Can you believe that?"
"Sure can…"
"She almost didn't let me do it. But she's so pretty, Buck."
"Mhm, nice girl."
"I mean yeah, she's no Dottie, but… I don't know, there's just somethin' I like so much about her… I guess her eyes, the way they look when she's smiling, or how her hair looks when the sun shines on it…"
"Get a load a' you," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder in a playful grip that moved his friend's whole body. "One dame's sweet on you, and all of a sudden you're Romeo."
"At least I'm not a punk like you," Steve teased, slipping from his grasp.
"You know what I like best about her?"
"What?" he asked, with a hint of jealousy.
But Bucky smirked without a care. "How she keeps you out of trouble."
It had, indeed, been a while since Steve got in an alley brawl, and by their fifth date his last few bruises healed. He'd almost gotten into one by a cotton candy stand at Coney Island, but his girl was there to pull him back.
"Stevie, leave him alone…"
"You heard what he said?!"
"Who cares," she sighed, clinging to his arm and throwing the other man a hateful look. "Come on, didn't you want to win me that stuffed teddy bear?"
"Better listen to your girl, pal."
"Oh go find a sty to wallow in," she hissed.
"I ought'a smack some manners into you, you two-bit broad!"
"I'd worry about my own manners if I were you, buddy." Bucky slipped between them, coming from behind, standing now close enough to punch the guy if things got heated. But, seeing himself outnumbered, the other man cursed them and left. Just then, Dottie finally caught up.
"What's going on?" she asked, a little out of breath.
Bucky turned around, and was met by the heart-melting sight of Steve and his girl holding each other, her hands on his cheeks as she quietly chastised him, but loving enough that it made him smile and giggle. She closed it with a kiss to his cheek that made the boy blush, and a kittenish rub of their noses together.
"Nothing, everything's fine."
It was around the time they went to see a movie together that Bucky's joy for Steve turned into something else. They sat in the back while some musical played, and through the flashing lights and the corner of his eye, he could see his friend with his sweetheart holding hands on top of her lap throughout the whole performance. Meanwhile Dottie kept rubbing up against him, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, daring in the darker scenes to kiss his neck, but when she tried to get more of his attention —
"Buckyyy, what's wrong?"
— he shook her off. Hearing his name spoken by her voice suddenly felt disappointing.
He caught himself staring more and more, and not just when they went out together. Sometimes, the girl came by and spent some time with Steve, looking at his newer sketches, trying her hand too — oh and how disgusting they looked, Steve taking advantage of the situation to sit behind, and wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear. The pair greeted him cheerfully when he stepped through the living room and caught them, and he grinned back at them as he took a glass of milk, but all his appetite was gone.
And when they walked together through the park, and he saw them holding hands again… When Steve dug for some change to get her an ice cream, and they giggled stupidly as they made a mess of sharing it… When she fell asleep by his side one night at the dance hall, and Stevie woke her up with a tickle down her cheek, and she shivered and murmured like a bird and hid her face in his unworthy shoulder…
"Why don't you ever wanna dance, doll?" he asked as they were fetching drinks.
"Not much good at it, I guess," she shrugged. "The fast ones make me dizzy and I always trip."
"I can teach you. It'll work out great! Stevie teaches you to draw, I teach you how to dance… What do you say?"
The girl seemed to think, but shook her head. "Hmmm… No, not right now. Thanks," she smiled politely. "Besides, what would Stevie do meanwhile?"
She told him no just for the sake of keeping his scrawny little friend company, and Bucky had never felt more insulted — not that she wouldn't dance with him, although that hurt enough, but that he couldn't remember the last dame that gave something up just to stick with him, or got into fights for him, or kissed his wounds away, or held his hand in hers with no ulterior motive, and he'd found a girl that did that, and he wasted her on Steve.
So what if she was a little on the smaller side? So what if her dresses didn't fit right? So what if she came down with the cold at every change of season? He put up with it for Steve and he wasn't half as charming. The girl, instead, looked very delicate, more feminine in her own way, like when she braced her fingers on a table as she talked and mindlessly swung back and forth, animated in whatever she was saying, and her digits bent in such a childish way he feared they'd break, and it only made him want to kiss them. Or when she took her shoes off when she came to their apartment and he could catch a hint of shapely ankle, just perfect for his grip, or a peachy pink instep small enough to fit his palm. And when she fell asleep on their couch that one time and Bucky saw her all curled up, and noticed the arch of her hips and the cinch of her waist and pictured how good it would feel to hold them, and angle them upward, and…
Slowly, he started to appreciate some of what his friend had said that night, because she did have lovely eyes, and hair that looked so soft and warm, and her scent, unburdened by perfume, was sweet and girlish, and her lips looked kissable, and her wrists and knees and ankles too…
"Going out again, tonight?" he asked as the blond boy fixed himself in the mirror.
"Yeah, she wants to try this new place we —"
"Alright, alright…" sighed Bucky, already sick of hearing more. "So, that's all you're gonna do?"
"Well… yeah."
And then he voiced an evil thought. "Don't you ever want to… you know?"
"Y-you think we should?" Steve asked, turning away from his pallid reflection.
Bucky sat sprawled across the couch, and shrugged. "If she really likes you, she'd be up for it, don't you think?"
"I don't know about that, Buck."
"No? Ok," he nodded. "After all, what do I know?"
The aftermath of this particular advice was a draught of dates for poor ol' Steve, because just like Bucky had expected, the girl shrinked at the suggestion and couldn't stand to see him. For a while.
"Can you believe it, Buck?!"
"Yeah…"
"She'll see me again!"
"That's great, Stevie."
"What's wrong? You're lookin' real dour today."
Bucky knew he shouldn't. "I just…" He knew that it was wrong. "Look, it's great that she's forgiven you, but you gotta be realistic about this, pal." He had been happy for Steve at one point, long ago.
"What do you mean?"
But that was before he saw just how much love a girl could give, and realised he'd never felt it.
"Just don't delude yourself this is anything more than what it looks like, ok? She's only forgiven you because she knows nobody else will have her."
"That's mean, Buck."
"Yeah, well… I'm just looking out for you. You're my best friend, you know that. I don't want you getting hurt." It stuck in his throat to say it, but the bitterness stuck more.
And after Steve went to bed that night, Bucky took out the box of candy and the pricey perfume he had bought for her, threw them in the trash, and firmly promised to himself to never wait too long again.
But as he learned a bit later on, when they went back to double-dates, he might not have had a chance at all, because there was an unwitting element of truth to this cruel tirade.
"I can't exactly blame you, honey," Dottie consoled her as they stood in line for the ladies room, not knowing Bucky was just behind the thin divider leading to the men's. "If he does something like that again, I know this other fella —"
"Oh no, Dot, please… We're fine now. He explained things and… he's really sweet, I think he just had a moment of —"
"But just let me introduce you to Jim, see if you don't like him better."
"I… I don't know."
"He's a real charmer," Dottie grinned, "and he has these big, broad hands, jaw like an anvil. He just broke it off with Marcie cause she was a flirt."
He didn't hear anything next, but the girl must've shook her head cause Dottie asked, "You're sure?" and "Really? Well, if you change your mind…"
"Thanks, Dot," she lightly laughed.
"I don't know why you're so stubborn though, it's not like he's that far out your league. You just need to fix your hair a little bit and get a better brand of powder."
"It's not that easy."
"It's all it took me to get Bucky on my arm. That, and a better set of heels," she laughed.
"Yeah but you've always been pretty, Dot. Like, really pretty, and you know it. I guess some girls are for the James Barnes of this world, and some are the for the Steves."
She giggled as she said it, with not a hint of anger or resentment, and that's what stung the worst.
Bucky arranged to go see a late night movie with Dottie after that, while Steve and his girl went back to the apartment to listen to a boxing match on the radio and have some cherry sodas. Dottie went ahead to buy the tickets while Bucky walked them home, and after wishing him good night, she went upstairs to set things up. Steve was meant to go to the store and buy the drinks, but he stayed to chat with his friend a while.
"I can get some eggs and milk as well while I'm at it," he offered, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets.
"Sure."
"Or do we have enough for breakfast tomorrow?"
"Go ahead and buy them, pal," Bucky smiled, pretending to be less tired than he felt.
"Ok. And what about — darn!"
"What is it?"
"I just realized, I forgot to give her the keys," he said, taking a hand out of his pocket and holding them out. "I gotta get to the store, can you go up and give them to her?"
"Er, why don't —"
"You know I always trip on the stairs when I'm in hurry, Buck, they haven't changed the lightbulb yet. Don't make me do it."
"Fine, I'll go."
"I owe you big."
"You always do," he grinned, and took the keys from him.
Steve made off for the corner store, while Bucky started the long slow climb upstairs. It was completely dark inside at that hour, and the few candles some neighbours left to light the way had all gone out.
"Stevie, is that you?" he heard her call, standing right outside their door.
He kept one hand against the wall and walked his way toward her, stopping as he heard her whisper, "I think I lost the keys."
Blindly, she moved her hand forward, coming right across his chest. He felt her jolt at the unexpected contact, then burst into a giggle. Bucky could already feel the fanning of her breath right at the level of his chin. With an unseen smile, he took her hand, and placed the keys within it.
"Oh," she laughed. "You had them."
As her hand closed around them his own moved up her shoulder, fingers threading around her hair, and as he touched her jaw he felt her tilting slightly upward, shivering under the feeling.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
He felt the warming tickle of her breath as he leaned close until, through the pitch black, he touched his lips to hers. Bucky did it lightly, just a little, just enough to taste and sip a kind of love he'd never really had. She stood surprised but took his kiss, and he felt her smiling into it, even beginning to kiss back just as he was parting from her.
"Your lips are softer than before," she giggled, in a sweet but altogether crushing way that made Bucky's heart beat stronger. "Stevie?"
Her hand moved through the air to touch him but felt nothing anymore, and down the stairs the heavy steps echoed, moving downward and away.
316 notes · View notes
bloody-bee-tea · 3 years
Note
18, 15, 11 for sadness! love your fics sm
18) "Promise me that if I don’t make it back that you’ll watch out for them.”
Jiang Cheng is four when he writes something to his soulmate for the first time. He begged his sister to teach him to write hello, just so that he could let his soulmate know that he’s there and thinking of them and today his sister finally deemed his strokes readable enough to write them out.
Jiang Cheng’s hand shakes a bit—the brush still too big in his tiny hand—but under Jiang Yanli’s watchful eye he manages to write it down on his arm in a way that is at least readable.
“I did it!” Jiang Cheng yells excitedly when he is done and Jiang Yanli smiles at him and pets his head, clearly proud of him.
“And now we wait,” she says and Jiang Cheng sits down more firmly, his arm always in sight so that he doesn’t miss his soulmate’s reply.
It doesn’t take long at all for some new characters to show up, but they are a lot more complicated than what Jiang Cheng just wrote, and he’s not yet old enough to read them properly.
He eagerly holds his arm out for Jiang Yanli to read his soulmate’s message out to him, but he knows something is wrong when her face falls.
“What does it say, a-jie?” he still wants to know and Jiang Yanli pats his head again.
“It says ‘don’t write again’,” she reads out for him and Jiang Cheng pouts.
“That’s not very nice,” he mutters and climbs into Jiang Yanli’s lap when she pulls him over.
“No, it’s not. But it means your soulmate is older than you,” she says and flicks his nose.
“Like you?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and Jiang Yanli laughs.
“Maybe, yes,” she gives back and Jiang Cheng stares at the characters on his arm again.
He has a soulmate! And they are older than him!
“I will draw for them,” Jiang Cheng decides, because his mother berated him often enough that doodling odd shapes on his papers is actually not the same as properly writing characters, and his soulmate only told him to stop one of those things.
“You should do that,” Jiang Yanli encourages him though and Jiang Cheng gets started on it right away.
And he doesn’t stop, not even when he doesn’t receive an answer from his soulmate.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is nine when he tells his soulmate his name.
He never again received an answer from his soulmate, but that never stopped him from continuing to doodle on his skin, much to his mother’s despair.
‘My name is Jiang Cheng’ he writes out one day, early in the morning, so he can scrub it off before breakfast and before his mother can say something to him about it.
He fears that his soulmate might not yet be awake and that he won’t get an answer until a much later time, but then he already feels the tell-tale tingle of his soulmate writing something.
Jiang Cheng has only felt it once in his life before, but it’s not a feeling you easily forget.
‘I don’t want to know’ is the reply he receives and Jiang Cheng’s face falls.
He scrubs his own name off his skin and sees with relief that his soulmate does the same on their end, but then the implication of what just happens hits him and he crawls under his blanket again.
His soulmate doesn’t want him. They didn’t even ask for his name before or any other identifying feature and now they didn’t even offer anything in return and Jiang Cheng has to bite back tears at that.
Fine, he thinks after long miserable minutes. If his soulmate doesn’t want him, then he doesn’t want his soulmate either.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is sixteen when he has to watch Wei Wuxian write obscenities on his arms in broad daylight and he’s also sixteen when he has to see Lan Wangji blush as he tries to cover the characters on his arm up.
There’s an ugly feeling forming in his chest and Jiang Cheng knows that it’s jealousy.
It seems like at least Wei Wuxian has a soulmate who is not completely against the match. It’s not like Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli can relate, and that thought at least brings some comfort to Jiang Cheng.
He’s not the only one who’s soulmate doesn’t like them.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is seventeen when his Sect burns and his family dies.
He knows it’s stupid, even as he puts a brush with shaking fingers to his arm, but he has to warn his soulmate.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if they are a cultivator or not, if they are in danger or perfectly safe, but he has to warn them to give them a fighting chance.
‘The Wens are attacking. Please stay safe’, he writes out, his strokes barely legible and then everything is a blur.
He does not get a reply from his soulmate.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is eighteen when he goes to war.
He spends three months looking for his brother, before he finds him and brings him home, and then he can only remember battlefield after battlefield.
Jiang Cheng simultaneously doesn’t feel old enough to be doing this and like he has never done anything else as Zidian swings in a wide arch over his head, but then everything blurs again as the next wave of Wen soldiers hit.
He always feels exhausted down to his bones these days but at least he knows that his siblings are safe and that’s more than many of the other soldiers can say.
Jiang Cheng tries not to think about his soulmate too much.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is just shy of nineteen when he feels alive for the first time in months as Nie Mingjue pushes him against a wall and follows the motion up with a kiss.
Jiang Cheng can’t deny that he’s been looking for a while now but then again, who hasn’t? It’s Nie Mingjue after all and Jiang Cheng cannot believe he gets to have this, if even for only one night.
He moves his hands over Nie Mingjue’s shoulders, leaning back against the wall and letting Nie Mingjue bite kiss after kiss down the length of his neck.
“This is no strings attached,” Nie Mingjue rasps out between kisses. “Don’t make it into something it’s not.”
“I’m not that naïve,” Jiang Cheng bites out, but his voice threatens to break away into a moan when Nie Mingjue sucks at the hinge of his jaw.
Jiang Cheng damn well knows what a war hook-up is, and he’s aware that after this is all done, things will be completely different.
Neither of them will have time to look at the other again, no matter if they even want to or not.
Though Jiang Cheng can’t deny that he really, really wants to. He wouldn’t mind if this became a more regular thing, if he’s being honest, but he keeps those thoughts to himself, which is not that hard when Nie Mingjue lowers his head to kiss a mark into the base of Jiang Cheng’s throat.
“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng pants out and his hands dig into Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. “Come on, tent, tent!” he gets out despite the mind-blowing things Nie Mingjue is alreadydoing to him and he doesn’t even want to imagine how he’s going to survive the night.
But that is something he can figure out after they’ve had sex. For now, Jiang Cheng pulls Nie Mingjue on top of him again, after he pushed him down onto the bed, and he can’t wait for them to undress.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is just shy of nineteen and freshly fucked when he finds out that Nie Mingjue is his soulmate.
Jiang Cheng wakes up in the middle of the night, plagued by nightmares like he so often is since the burning of Lotus Pier, and despite him being absolute exhausted he can’t fall asleep again.
So he takes his time to admire Nie Mingjue—and reminding himself that this is a one-time thing only—but when he can’t quite keep still anymore he starts to draw shapes onto Nie Mingjue’s arm.
He stopped drawing for his soulmate a long time ago, but it seems like old habits die hard, because Jiang Cheng is just mindlessly drawing shapes into Nie Mingjue’s skin when he feels an answering tingle on his own arm.
Jiang Cheng freezes because surely it can’t be. Surely this is just one big coincident.
He makes the same motion over and over again, always keeping an eye on Nie Mingjue to check that he doesn’t wake up, and Jiang Cheng shudders when he feels the phantom sensation of the same movement on his arm.
“No,” Jiang Cheng whispers, because he doesn’t trust this; Nie Mingjue would have told him.
But now there’s this niggling doubt in Jiang Cheng’s mind so he cranes his head around to check if there are any brushes nearby. When he sees one he quickly gets out of bed to retrieve it, together with some ink, but when he turns around to the bed Nie Mingjue is staring at him.
“What are you doing?” Nie Mingjue wants to know, warily eying the brush in Jiang Cheng’s hand and a tiny part of Jiang Cheng thinks that’s already confirmation enough.
“You’re my soulmate,” Jiang Cheng says, and it feels strange to say it out loud, and he can see how Nie Mingjue immediately closes himself off.
“I’m not. I told you this is just a one time thing, don’t get any ideas in your head.”
“But I’m not just getting any ideas in my head, am I?” Jiang Cheng asks and before Nie Mingjue can say anything else, he dips the brush into the ink and moves it over his arm.
It’s just a wiggly line, but it’s enough because the same line shows up on Nie Mingjue’s arm, no matter how much he tries to hide it by pulling the blanket up.
“What the fuck, Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and then the anger bubbles over.
He always thought he was more sad that his soulmate doesn’t want him, but it seems like the anger was not far off, either.
“It doesn’t matter,“ Nie Mingjue snaps out turning away from Jiang Cheng.
“You could have at least told me. You could have at least told me that you don’t want me,” Jiang Cheng says and he puts the brush down with deliberately careful movements, because otherwise he might just break it.
“It’s not even—” Nie Mingjue starts but he cuts himself off. “It doesn’t matter, Wanyin. We’re at war!”
“We weren’t when I was four, or nine, or fifteen, or any other time,” Jiang Cheng spits back because what kind of excuse is that even. “What are your excuses for those times, huh?”
“I’m going to die young, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue says and suddenly he sounds tired. “Either I die in two days, or in two years at best, but it’s going to be young. And I wasn’t about to do that to any soulmate. I’m not about to do that to you.”
That confession leaves Jiang Cheng speechless for a moment, before he manages to hold on to his anger again.
“So you just thought you’d fuck me once and be done with it?” he hisses and he can see how Nie Mingjue flinches at his words.
It feels like a very hollow victory.
“I just thought—I thought I could have this, at least for one night. Know how it felt like to be with someone that was intended for me,” Nie Mingjue whispers and he’s still not meeting Jiang Cheng’s eyes.
“You could have had it earlier. You can have it after we kill Wen Ruohan, too,” Jiang Cheng tries, because he doesn’t quite understand why Nie Mingjue is so pessimistic about everything.
Jiang Cheng is the one who already lost everything, and even he has more hope than Nie Mingjue it seems.
“I’m not sure—the assault in two days—” Nie Mingjue starts, but he trails off with a shrug. “There’s so much that can go wrong.”
“Then don’t lead it,” Jiang Cheng immediately says, but of course Nie Mingjue only laughs at that suggestion.
“You think I really could just send our people to die, while I stay behind? While I stay safe? Maybe we’re not made for each other, after all,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth together.
“Don’t you dare,” Jiang Cheng hisses, because how dare Nie Mingjue try to turn it around like this. “The intel we got from Lan Xichen’s spy was good so far, wasn’t it? What makes you think this one will be different?”
“It’s too good,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh. “Something is bound to go wrong sooner or later and with our luck it’s sooner. All it needs is one missed troupe movement; one wrong time and we’re all done for.”
“You really don’t think you’re going to survive that mission,” Jiang Cheng whispers, because he can hear the quiet acceptance in Nie Mingjue’s voice.
“It doesn’t matter if I do or not, Wanyin. That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Mingjue? Please do enlighten me, because so far it doesn’t make that much sense to me.”
“I’m going to die young. It doesn’t matter if it happens at Wen Ruohan’s hands or if I succumb to a qi deviation, but I probably don’t have more than two to three years left. You really think I want you to suffer through that?”
“What do you mean, qi deviation? You seem perfectly healthy.”
“It’s a family thing,” Nie Mingjue tiredly says and scrubs a hand over his face. “My father died of one as did his father before. As will I.”
“I thought Wen Ruohan killed your father,” Jiang Cheng gives back and he shrugs awkwardly when Nie Mingjue stares in surprise at him. “What? I was the Sect heir, even back then. I did listen to politics and I heard you loud and clear.”
“Well, then you heard more than the other Sects did,” Nie Mingjue says with a bitter smile, but then he sighs. “It’s part of our cultivational style,” he then admits but Jiang Cheng won’t have it.
“No. I’m not going to let that happen. You can’t use that as an excuse, because I will find a way to prevent that.”
“And how are you going to do what my father and his father and his father couldn’t, huh?” Nie Mingjue wants to know, but he slightly turned towards Jiang Cheng, which gives him more hope than it probably should.
“Dual cultivation, for one,” Jiang Cheng says. “Your father’s wives were already dead when it happened, right? That could help. That could give you time.”
“It’s not a permanent solution,” Nie Mingjue warns him and Jiang Cheng stubbornly shakes his head.
“But it will give me enough time to figure something else out. Our Clarity Bells are not called like that for nothing,” Jiang Cheng admits, his eyes falling to the bell fastened to his belt. “We don’t make a big deal out of it, but we Jiangs are pretty good healers.”
“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue lowly says and Jiang Cheng can tell that he still wants to tell him no.
“One good reason, Mingjue. Give me one good reason why not, especially now that I know. Something apart from your qi deviations.”
“The mission in two days,” Nie Mingjue immediately gives back. “I don’t have a good feeling about it and it’s more than likely that we both won’t survive the war at all.”
“So you just make sure you survive the mission and then we can give this a try, is that what you’re saying.”
“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue starts but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.
“No, tell me,” he begs, because he needs to know if there are other reasons for Nie Mingjue to hold back all this time. “It’s—if you have a problem with me, just tell me that and we can move on, but don’t use these excuses.”
“Why would I have a problem with you?” Nie Mingjue asks and he seems honestly taken off guard by that. “Did you already forget what we just did? Why would I do that if I want nothing to do with you?”
“I don’t know, Mingjue, I’m not the one who willingly stayed away from my soulmate since he was four,” Jiang Cheng bitterly shoots back and Nie Mingjue’s entire face softens.
“Wanyin,” he breathes out and then he offers his hand to Jiang Cheng. “Wanyin, come here,” he cajoles him and Jiang Cheng is helpless but to go to him.
He slides their hands together and when Nie Mingjue tugs him onto the bed, Jiang Cheng snuggles into his side. He can feel that Nie Mingjue is still reluctant, but in the end he puts his arm around Jiang Cheng.
“My father didn’t make a secret out of my fate,” Nie Mingjue admits. “By the time you wrote me that very first time, I already knew I wouldn’t live past 25.”
“It won’t happen,” Jiang Cheng says again, because maybe if he just says it often enough he can will it to become true.
“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue amends and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head. “But back then—I just didn’t want to do that to you. And then you told me your name and suddenly I had a face to go with my soulmate and it honestly just made things so much more difficult. Huaisang kept me updated on you and Xichen couldn’t stop talking about how Lan Qiren likes you and I knew I could only make you unhappy, so I stayed away.”
Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath.
“And then you lost your family, your Sect; even your brother for a while. I wasn’t going to add to that misery.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Jiang Cheng says, and he is honestly a bit choked up, but he will still not allow this. “But I refuse to be coddled. Yes, I already lost everything; I’m not about to lose you, too.”
“This is not something you can out-stubborn,” Nie Mingjue tries, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand why he still simply won’t accept that he’s settled with Jiang Cheng now.
“Did you see the people I brought to this fight? I out-stubborned the destruction of my Sect, your health problem is nothing to me,” he says, much more confident than he really feels, but he’s sure if Nie Mingjue would just give them a chance, they can figure something out.
“God, I adore you so,” Nie Mingjue whispers and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.
“Then finally accept that I’m your soulmate and that I’m here to stay,” Jiang Cheng bites out, furiously trying to keep the blush off his face, but of course he’s failing.
“After the mission,” Nie Mingjue amends. “After the war. If we survive this—then we can try.”
Jiang Cheng is not happy with that, not at all, but it’s better than anything else he got so far, and so he’ll take it.
“Okay.”
“But promise me that if I don’t make it back that you’ll watch out for everyone. They will need a new leader and Xichen isn’t cut out for this,” Nie Mingjue says.
“Fine,” Jiang Cheng gets out, trying to keep his tears back, because Nie Mingjue is already so convinced that he won’t survive this, it’s almost like he’s already dead. “But Wen Ruohan doesn’t get to kill you, too.”
“Okay,” Nie Mingjue soothingly whispers and while Jiang Cheng is aware that there’s still a lot to talk about, he doesn’t resist when Nie Mingjue pulls him down with him again.
They can talk after the war.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is just shy of nineteen when he hears that Nie Mingjue and his people have been caught; the mission was a trap, just like Nie Mingjue feared and now he’s in Wen Ruohan’s hands.
When Jiang Cheng brings a brush with shaking hands to his skin, it almost feels familiar, but in the last second he thinks better of it. He can’t let Wen Ruohan know that Nie Mingjue has a soulmate; the man is already sadistic enough. Who knows what he will come up with to torture Nie Mingjue.
So Jiang Cheng can do nothing more but to trace shapes into his skin over and over again, hoping that Nie Mingjue can feel him.
Apart from that, Jiang Cheng can only fight.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is just shy of nineteen when Meng Yao stabs Wen Ruohan and just like that the war is won.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother to celebrate with the other’s just yet; he needs to find his soulmate first, before he can get to that.
He makes his way into the palace, letting his instincts guide him deeper and deeper inside, until he finally finds the throne room.
Nie Mingjue is there, laid out on the floor, and for a split second Jiang Cheng is afraid that he’s too late; that all of Nie Mingjue’s dark premonitions were true and that this is it for them.
“Mingjue,” he yells, running up to Nie Mingjue and skidding to a stop on his knees right by his side.
He’s almost afraid to touch him, to feel his cold skin, but then Nie Mingjue’s eyelids flutter and Jiang Cheng could sob with relief.
“Mingjue,” he whispers again and pulls Nie Mingjue up, so that he’s laying in his lap.
“Don’t trust him,” Nie Mingjue mutters, turning towards Jiang Cheng. “Meng Yao. Don’t trust him.”
“Okay,” Jiang Cheng immediately promises him, and if this is important enough for Nie Mingjue to tell him in this state, then he will heed his warning. “I got you now, don’t worry.”
“Didn’t die,” Nie Mingjue says with a small smile, even though Jiang Cheng can tell that he must be in agonizing pain, judging by the wounds all over him.
“No, you didn’t,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and he thanks all the gods for that, as he leans down to press a kiss to Nie Mingjue’s forehead.
“You get your chance, then,” Nie Mingjue says and raises a hand to cup Jiang Cheng’s face. “I didn’t die, so you get to find a way to keep me alive.”
“Done,” Jiang Cheng promises him and covers Nie Mingjue’s hand with his own. “We’ll figure it out.”
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is nineteen when his brother-in-law, his sister and his brother die in quick succession.
He wants to crumble with his grief, but the baby in his arms relies on him to stand and it’s not like Nie Mingjue would let him fall, either.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is twenty-one when he marries Nie Mingjue, and despite how close his grief still is, it’s the happiest day of his life.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is twenty-three when Nie Mingjue starts to suffer qi deviations. While Jiang Cheng hates to see his husband suffer like that, it finally gives him the opportunity to see what the Clarity Bell can do for him, and from then on it’s almost easy for him to figure out how to make it have a permanent effect on Nie Mingjue.
~*~*~
Jiang Cheng is twenty-six when he and Nie Mingjue adopt a little sister for Jin Ling and when Jiang Cheng looks at the tiny four-year-old held securely in Nie Mingjue’s arms, who’s beaming with happiness, Jiang Cheng wonders what’s in store for her life.
It’s not like he could have ever imagined to end up this happy when he was four and he hopes his daughter will have the same happiness waiting for her.
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let-them-read-fics · 3 years
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Empress of the Heart (Pt. 1)
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Requested By Anon: "Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again." (It was a long request so I had to sum it up lol)
Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader
Word Count: ~ 9,351 😳 (Both parts combined)
Warnings / Misc. -- Smut / Suggestive Themes, Angst, Fluff
Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.
A/N: Hello again! Guys, I'm actually really proud of this one. It gets better as it goes on. I hope you enjoy it (you'd better, because I stayed up until 8am writing again 🥴😂). I had to split this story into two parts to appease the Tumblr overlords, just so we’re clear.
♡ Happy reading ♡
Part 2
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
"Who's that?" Rosé asks, leaning in closer to the maknae as she points to a slightly recognizable face in the crowd. 
"I dunno," Lisa shrugs, throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "ask Jisoo." The Australian does as she says, padding over to seek out an answer from their unnie. 
"Y/N L/N, I believe. Her company is supposed to make a big announcement later." Jisoo informs, adding a nod to the end of her statement for certainty. Jennie stands beside them all, taking in the crowd of staff and business people hailing from all of the most powerful entertainment companies in Korea. The big dogs have all gathered here tonight to drop some major announcements for their upcoming projects and set up arrangements for future endeavors. 
"What do you think it'll be?" Jennie asks, eyes still trained on you as you converse with a famous actress. Her breath catches in her throat when you throw your head back, eyes filling with tears of laughter at something the high class woman said. You're absolutely stunning. 
"It could be anything, honestly. Her company's full of talent in every category." 
"Yeah, their newest girl group broke a record for Youtube streams in the first hour after release. Still didn't beat ours, though," Lisa adds with a smug look, holding her head a little higher. She's only playing, of course -- she's one of the most humble people Jennie knows. 
"She's really pretty," Jennie breathes out, speaking the words that have been rolling around in her mind since she laid eyes on you. The other girls adamantly agree, nodding their heads with purpose. 
"Do you wanna go talk to her? YG would probably like that; maybe we can let Jisoo do a little schmoozing." Rosé smirks, playfully nudging the unnie. Jisoo rolls her eyes with an amused scoff, quickly swatting the blonde's hand away. 
"I don't know, she seems pretty busy." Her words are unsure, weary -- her normal confidence is wavering a bit, now replaced with some type of nervousness that she can't quite explain. This isn't like her; why is she so anxious?
"Come on, it'll be fun." Lisa decides for them, leading the way with Jennie's hand clutched in her own; the brunette would surely slip away otherwise. 
They approach you from an angle, caught right in your blind spot as you continue your small talk with a new business exec. The man sees the girls behind you, waiting for their turn, and after a few more moments he leaves you with an office number to reach him by.
"Good evening… Y/N, right?" Jisoo leads politely, smiling as you turn to face them. You look even more dazzling up close, and Jennie's posture stiffens. She's definitely seen you somewhere before.
"That's me," you say sweetly, greeting all of them and committing their names to memory. 
"Jennie," she introduces, stretching a hand out to you. Your eyes flutter down to it before you grasp it within your own, the simple action appearing unbelievably cute to her.
"How're you doing tonight? I hear you've got some big news for us." Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, voice bouncy with anticipation.
You giggle, and Jennie thinks it may just be the sweetest thing she's ever heard. "It's a little hectic, if I'm honest, but I'm enjoying myself. What about you guys? And you'll just have to wait and see what we have in store for you." You end the sentence with a wink that just happened to be directed at Jennie, despite Lisa being the one to ask the question. She tries to fight the blush that soon rises to her cheeks. 
"We're doing well, I'd say. It's actually kind of nice to get out of the dorm and meet some new people." Rosé says almost wistfully, her eyes sending a fleeting glance around the room at her statement. 
"I know how that can feel. When I was first starting out I didn't get many opportunities for roles. But then I met my manager at the café I picked up a second job at, and the rest is history." You smile softly at the memory, recalling the events of that fateful day. You can't imagine where you'd be right now if things had played out differently. 
"You're an actress?" Jisoo asks, sounding like she just put two-and-two together. You nod at her, noticing the way that Jennie looks at you in deep thought. You can practically see the wheels turning. 
"So that's where I recognize you from. You guest starred in that JTBC miniseries earlier this year, didn't you?" 
"Ding ding ding, we have a winner." You smile, bowing your head in praise. It warms your heart to see her face light up, knowing that she finally felt that rush of putting her finger on the elusive thoughts in her head. Pulling knowledge you previously believed forgotten from the foggy depths of your brain is a rewarding experience in itself, and you're pleased that she remembered you. 
"I'm glad I made an impression during my short time on screen," you quirk, leaning in closer to her. 
"With skills like yours? You're unmatched, Y/N." She flirts, finally finding her bearings again. Her confidence is returning now, slowly but surely, and she pats herself on the back for not hiding behind her hands when you send her a tempting smile. 
"Ah, you're too kind--" you begin, only to be cut off by a tap on your shoulder. It's one of your co-stars.
"Good evening, ladies," he bows, "I'm sorry to break this up, but Y/N is needed by management." 
Your shoulders sag at this, his words sinking in. You'd much rather spend the night tucked away with the girls, getting to know them better -- especially Jennie, who makes your heart speed up anytime she looks at you. 
"I hate to go," they nod in agreement, sad to have to part ways. They really enjoyed speaking with you, and they'd be lying if they said they wanted to stop anytime soon. 
"But maybe I'll catch you later?" The question sounds hopeful, albeit a bit unsure as you scrunch your face up. They affirm that they'd "like that very much," and your shoulders relax a bit. Maybe there's still some hope for you all. 
◇◇◇◇◇  2 Hours Later  ◇◇◇◇◇
"Exactly! She shouldn't have forgiven him after that," you rant to Jisoo, talking about some characters from your favorite kdrama. 
"Babo, I tell you." She says dramatically, rolling her eyes. The action garners a chuckle from you, and Jennie finds herself smiling as she follows along with the conversation. She must've made her staring too obvious, because a minute later your eyes meet hers from across the table. She blinks, surprise etched gracefully into her features, and she clears her throat. Both of you have been stealing glances at one another all night, and things have only ramped up since you snuck away from management to see them again. You assured them you wouldn't get in trouble, but that was honestly the last thing on your mind. 
From her seat across from you, Jennie can see the curve of your body, your silhouette highlighted by the lights that shine on the wall behind you. They're dimmed somewhat to give a comfortable, soft glow to the room, and they contrast with the perfect curve of your face. She lets her eyes trail lower, admiring the expanse of your chest and how your fingers rest against the table, mindlessly playing with the expensive tablecloth. 
What you do next makes her choke on the water she had so bravely dared to take a drink of. 
You lean forward slightly, just enough for her to see your cleavage, while still appearing inconspicuous and innocent. The smirk you try to suppress tells her you know exactly what you're doing, and her cheeks grow hot. 
"Excuse me," she mutters to the table, quickly standing and all but running outside for some fresh air. She wants -- needs -- to put some distance between the two of you if she plans to have any self control. 
Cool air immediately greets her as she steps outside, hearing the sleek automatic door slide shut behind her. She can breathe now, and begin to soothe her racing mind. Despite only knowing you for the better part of 4 hours, she's already attracted to you. Way more than she cares to admit, as she presses her thighs together to put out the fire you started within her. 
No more than 5 minutes later, the doors slide open once more. 
"Everything alright?" You ask, tone dripping with amusement as you take in her flustered state. It's obvious that she's okay, just simply turned on. 
"Never better," she mumbles, glancing up at you with a lopsided smile. 
"You know, you ran out pretty fast back there. You sure know how to worry a girl." You fake a pout at her. 
"Oh, you don't say?" She plays along, approaching you with what few shreds of confidence she has left. She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering into it, "Well, I'm all good." 
"Wanna see for yourself?" She continues, drawing back slightly to take your hands within her own and wrap them around her waist. She smiles as they roam over her body, making sure to be thorough as you "check her out." 
She groans when your hand grazes over a sweet spot on her thigh, causing you to pause and tut at her, "Tsk tsk, Jennie. It looks like I'll have to inspect this a little further." She gulps at your words, mind clouded once again by filthy thoughts of you. 
"Let's get out of here," she suggests, taking your hand to lead you away. You chuckle at her eagerness, only capable of nodding as she basically drags you to her car. 
◇◇◇◇◇
Despite feeling like two horny teenagers, you and Jennie actually opted to slow things down and get to know each other more. She's one of the most interesting people you've ever met, and you could listen to her talk for hours on end. The feeling is beyond mutual, and she doesn't mind that she has to wait a little longer to have you. The promise of what the night will hold for the two of you thrills her, and the anticipation only heightens her feelings.
Takeout containers lay abandoned in her car, long forgotten about as you sit next to each other on the hood. The chilly surface of the windshield presses against your back, making you all the more thankful for having had the foresight to wear a coat tonight. You make a mental note to thank your stylist for the suggestion. 
Stars are beginning to twinkle in the distance, slowly coming out of their peaceful slumber to greet the evening sky. They bring to mind all the nights you spent in your backyard as a child, laid out on a warm blanket as you gazed up into space. Back when only trivial issues existed in your world, leaving you with an unscarred heart and unadulterated outlook on life. Those times were simple, only complicated by whatever drama was going on at school or what new person your friends liked. Back then you had no idea of what the future held for you -- what you'd end up doing with your life. If you had a chance to talk to your younger self, you'd tell her to enjoy those days as much as possible; to not take them for granted for even a second. 
Everyday you're reminded that fame is truly a blessing and a curse -- you miss the days that you could roam the streets freely with whomever you wanted to, not having to worry about paparazzi or the media, but you're thankful for where you are now. You get to do what you love, everyday, and make money from it -- it's what everyone wishes for in life; and although you've worked your ass off to get here, you owe a lot of credit to the fans. 
"It's so beautiful up here," Jennie says, voice stuck between a whisper and sigh as she lays her head on your shoulder. 
"You see that building over there, with the orange lights and trees around it?" You ask, pointing in the direction of the building. Her eyes follow the invisible path your finger makes, and she spots it, nodding for you to continue. 
"My mom used to work there; it's a daycare. I always loved helping out. The kids were so adorable." A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you look down at your lap, clearly reminiscing. Jennie notices, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as she says, "I bet you miss it." 
"I do," you sigh, clenching your jaw briefly, "those were the days. Seoul's home, but sometimes it feels so distant."
"I know how that feels." You don't miss the way her eyes cast down, a hint of sadness behind them, her fingers toying with yours on her thigh. Life in the spotlight isn't all it's cracked up to be, and neither of you are strangers to that all too familiar pang of longing. 
"I'm happy to be here with you tonight, though," you try to turn the conversation cheery again, and Jennie's thankful for that. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time." 
Your plan works, and soon she's pepping up. "Me neither. Being with you feels...different. In a good way." Your smile widens exponentially when she adds, "A very good way." 
"Don't get too cheesy on me, now," you roll your eyes teasingly, wrapping both of your arms around her and pulling her flush up against your body. She lays her head on your chest, reveling in the scent of your perfume and the warmth radiating from you. Her hand comes to rest against your ribs, lightly rubbing patterns against them as the two of you continue star gazing. She can feel your heartbeat pick up when she slides her hand downwards, playing with the hem of your shirt innocently. 
Does she have any idea what she's doing to you?
Yes, yes she does. After all, your body is basically selling you out at this point. 
"Y/N?" 
"Mmm?" You hum, eyes closed and head leaned back against the windshield. Her skin is soft against yours, and your shared warmth has put you at ease.
"Do you wanna go somewhere? I really don't want the night to be over yet." Your heart flutters at her words; the fact that a woman such as Jennie is so reluctant to leave you is baffling in itself. 
"I'd love that, Jennie. What did you have in mind?" 
For a moment, Jennie's mind takes it there. She allows herself to imagine what it would be like to feel your skin against hers, connection unrestricted by clothing; how your kisses would feel against her lips, her body; what beautiful sounds you would make as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. She can't deny how attracted she is to you, nor does she want to; but she also doesn't want to ruin the innocent moments you're sharing. She doesn't want to taint them with the lustful ideas that flood her mind anytime you give her that look, or caress her thigh absentmindedly. 
"How does the park sound?" 
"With you? There's nowhere I'd rather be." 
Despite her efforts, Jennie blushes at your statement, feeling that embarrassing warmth creep up the back of her neck. You've made her blush more in the span of one night than she previously had in her entire life, and that boosts your confidence tenfold.
"Who's being cheesy now, huh?" She asks, pinching your side playfully as she sits up. Her legs swing around until she's fully facing you, sitting criss-cross as the two of you smile at one another. 
Neither of you move for a while, both content with just admiring each other's beauty. Her fingers lace with yours, and after a moment she brings your hand up to her lips to lay a kiss to it. The action -- more so, how soft her lips are against your skin -- catches you off guard, and your breathing hitches. All at once, you're acutely aware of how badly you want to kiss her. 
As if things couldn't get anymore tempting, her tongue darts out of her mouth to soothe her lips, making them glisten in the dying light of the evening. 
She sees your eyes dart down to them, and her body leans closer to you ever so slightly, seemingly having a mind of its own. You meet her gaze again, silently asking for permission as you glance back down at her lips. She responds by giving one single nod before leaning in close enough that your noses almost brush against each other. 
"You're stunning." The compliment sounds breathy as it slips out of your mouth, but you're beyond caring at this point. Your pride was thrown out the window the second Jennie showed interest in you. 
"Don't look at me like that," she says, gently biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from closing the distance. She wants you to be the one to do it.
"Like what?" 
"Like you're undressing me with your eyes." Her gaze casts down to your lips again, seemingly glued there as she watches them move when you speak your reply.
"You act like you weren't doing the same thing at the event." Her confidence falters momentarily, but she fights to hold her ground. "My colleagues even noticed it, babe -- you've gotta get better at hiding your attraction." You say with a chuckle, watching as Jennie's eyes grow wider. Had she really made it so obvious?
"We wouldn't be here right now if I was good at hiding it, so I think you owe me one." 
"Touché," you say, quirking an eyebrow in thought. She's right, as usual. "How can I ever make it up to you?" Your voice wiggles dramatically, face contorting in a mock apology. 
"I know a way," she says lowly, smiling as your hand finds its way to her knee a moment later. You hook your fingers in the crook of it, drawing a surprised gasp from her as she falls forward and into your arms. 
Here goes nothing. 
You raise your left hand to her cheek, brushing the back of your fingers against it gently as you build up the nerve to kiss her. Your other arm is wrapped securely around her waist in order to hold her steady above you. 
Her palms are pressed to the glass behind you, and her hair falls gracefully around you, creating a little curtain to shield you from the outside world. Finally gaining enough courage, you press your lips to hers in a soft kiss. It's slow and mild as you set a sensual rhythm, growing accustomed to the taste of each other. She sighs into your mouth as you reposition her so that she's straddling your lap. 
"Y/N, we're never gonna make it to the park if you keep kissing me like that." She warns, though her words hold no real threat at all. She wants this just as much as you do. 
You lay a trail of light kisses up her neck, all of them far too gentle for her liking right now. "Is this better, your highness?" You ask smugly, smiling against her throat as a frustrated sigh leaves her lips.
She places a hand on your chest to push you up against the glass, letting her fingers skim over your collarbone. Just as she's about to pounce, the sound of your phone ringing interrupts the moment. It vibrates in your pocket, right between Jennie's thighs, and you stifle a giggle at the reaction it would've drawn from her had you not quickly retrieved it. 
"Hello?" You ask, realizing you hadn't even bothered to check the caller ID. Jennie sits back on your legs, allowing her hands to rest on your hips and draw soothing circles.
"Y/N, I hate to tell you this on such short notice, but you have a new interview scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10AM. I'll send you all the details later." 
You sigh at your manager's words, running a hand over your face to relax yourself. The announcement party was supposed to signal the end of your busy week, but of course life just couldn't work in your favor for once. Now you'd be stuck in some random line of questioning, unable to give them any real answers for the sake of keeping spoilers from getting out. You can think of about a million things you'd rather be doing tomorrow morning, and one of them is sitting on your lap right now. 
"Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later." You wait for him to say his goodbye before ending the call and turning back to Jennie with an apologetic look. 
"Sorry for ruining the moment." 
"You didn't ruin anything. But luckily for you…" she leans forward again, pressing a kiss to your lips that makes your heart stop for a second, "I can be very merciful." You nearly melt at her words, paired with how she whispers them in your ear. Her warm breath fans over your neck, rendering you speechless as you pull her back to your lips. 
This kiss is different -- full of passion and desire as you grow more used to each other. She raises up on her knees, towering over you as she stares down at you. You look so beautiful right now, your eyes appearing big as you look up into hers, waiting for her next move. She runs her hands through your hair before settling them on your cheeks, cupping the smooth skin and rubbing the pad of her thumb across it. You drag your nails up and down her exposed thighs, and you pat yourself on the back when you notice the trail of goosebumps they leave behind. 
"I actually do wanna go to the park with you, if that's alright. There's something I want to show you. I definitely want to continue this later, though." You say.
She nods at that, a smile making its way to her face that can't possibly be wiped away. As much as she wants to have you writhing underneath her, screaming her name, she can wait. She's content with making as many memories as possible with you tonight, and she's intrigued by the surprise you're hinting at.
A few gentle kisses later, you slide off the hood and help her down before going to open her car door for her. 
"Such a gentlewoman," she praises, pursing her lips at you. 
"Only for you," you wink, making her giggle. 
You quickly make your way to the driver's seat, set on getting to the park ASAP in order to spend as much time as you can with Jennie. After all, you can only stay up so late tonight if you want to be functioning for that interview tomorrow… and let's just say that you plan on being busy later. 
---------
"Voila!" You declare, motioning to some playground equipment in the kid's section of the sizable park. Of all the things she was guessing at, Jennie did not see this coming. 
"What, you came to show me monkey bars, Y/N? I've seen plenty of them--" She asks incredulously, looking around the area filled with miniature tables and chairs to go along with the equipment. 
"What? No, no. I used to play here when I was growing up, and my friend's and I had a secret hiding spot. We always stashed our favorite little knick knacks in it, and we promised we'd only show it to people we deemed worthy."
Jennie watches as your eyes light up at the recounting of such a dear memory, and she grins widely. You truly are a five year old at heart. 
"This is the first time I've been back here, since…" you trail off, realizing just how many years it's been. Being at such a different point in your life while standing in a place you frequented as a child is a weird juxtaposition that you weren't prepared for, but you push it from your mind.
"Anyway, I think you're pretty worthy." You joke, sizing her up. She laughs at that, and you revel in the pleasant sound. You know you probably won't see her again after tonight, so you're determined to ingrain the little things -- like her smile, her laugh -- into your brain. 
"Now, let's see… where did Ashley put it?" You whisper to yourself, scanning the length of the playground. Your eyes travel across the slides, over the swings, and around the monkey bars before you spot that little dip in the siding that you'd recognize anywhere. Jennie soon finds her hand slipping into yours as you lead her over to it, a childlike sense of giddiness on your face. She likes seeing you like this. 
"I hope it's still here," you say to no one, bending down to press your fingers against the old wood. It's far more worn down now, and you're worried that someone has already come by and cleaned out the hiding spot. Putting your doubts aside, you continue. 
"Okay, so don't laugh, but there's a special way you have to open it. Ashley showed it to me one day and it's the only way we could get it to budge after that."
She smiles her gummy smile at you, and you can't help but return the gesture and even steal a quick kiss. She's a bit taken aback when you ball your hand up, using the side of it to deliver a couple blows to the wood in two different spots. Next, you stand and line up your foot, remember exactly how your friend taught you, before executing a calculated kick to the other side. 
At first, Jennie wants to laugh at you; but upon closer inspection, she sees that in fact, a small opening is visible in the wood now. You smirk cockily, knowing full well that she hadn't expected that to work. 
"Told you so," you tease, now bending down again to work the panel free. You wiggle it back and forth repeatedly, being careful not to go too quickly and damage anything else, and eventually it pops out. She watches as you reach in and pull out a mini jewelry box -- the kind that can fit in your hand, mainly meant for rings or other small items. 
"We stole the box from our other friend, Janelle. Had to pay her our allowances for 2 months afterward. Can you believe that?" You ask, shaking your head with another smirk on your lips. Jennie laughs at you in full, loving how carefree you are right now. In a way, she's happy that your manager called earlier; otherwise the two of you most surely would be locked away in your bedroom right now. This experience is definitely one she'll cherish. 
"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head and going along with it. 
You click the latch on the small box, it's material now weathered and rusty as it creaks when you open it. Jennie steps closer to you to examine its contents, and you fight to contain how hard your heart starts beating at the feeling of her hand on your lower back. 
"No way…" you utter, voice full of disbelief as your eyes land on one of your most prized possessions from childhood. 
"What?" Jennie asks, genuinely on the edge of her metaphorical seat. 
"This butterfly hair clip," you inform, slipping the small contraption between your fingers as you hold it up for her to see, "I won it at a fair with my mom and I always wondered where it went…" 
"It's beautiful, Y/N," she says, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the details etched into it. For something so small and seemingly unassuming, it's actually very unique. 
"I want you to have it." You say, taking a step away so you can look at her. She instantly goes to refuse, saying, "I can't! You just found it after all this time--"
"And I went all that time without it. If you take it, I'll know it's safe with you. And you can use it to remember me by." You say, your gaze softening as you watch her debate with herself. 
"Okay. But if you ever want it back, call me." 
"Roger that." You say dorkily, earning yourself a roll of those dark eyes you find yourself getting lost in. 
"And for the record, Y/N, I could never forget you. Pretty hair clip or not." Her confession makes you feel happy on a whole new level; knowing that you've left an impact on her is truly a wonderful thing. 
"So, what now?" She asks, breaking the happy lull your conversation found itself in. 
"We can walk around the park for a little while, or…" you start, waiting for Jennie to prod you further. Both of you know exactly what game you're playing, but it's still fun nonetheless. 
"Or?" She inquires, stepping closer as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. She nonchalantly gives you a once over, knowing what power her darkening gaze holds over you. 
"We can go back to my place. Maybe play a little footsie, who knows?" You say, shrugging your shoulders with a stupid grin. Even while seducing someone, you can't resist being a geek. 
"Footsie?" Jennie gasps, raising her eyebrows, "What kind of girl do you take me for? That only happens after at least 2 dates in." 
"Such a prude, Ms. Kim. How can I change your mind?" 
She presses a finger to her cheek, pretending to think, before getting an idea. Her lips flirt with the shell of your ear as she whispers obscenities into it, turning you to mush with every new scenario she puts in your head. 
You stiffen as she kisses your jaw, the action catching you off guard as you continue reeling from her words. 
"I can do that, I think," you cough out, stumbling over the words a little bit. She laughs at the effect she has on you; seeing your confidence waver is a nice role reversal, and it's something she could definitely get used to. 
"Let's go." She commands, now taking your hand to pull you after her, just like you had done before.
◇◇◇◇◇
It's painful, how hard Jennie has to restrain herself from touching you as you fumble with your keys. She told herself she'd keep her hands to herself until you got inside, just in case any stray paparazzi managed to catch you two together. The last thing either of you need is some new scandal, especially with your careers in a vulnerable spot as they're really beginning to take off.
"If you don't get that door open within the next 10 seconds, then I'll just take you out here in the hallway." 
You audibly gulp at the image she just conjured up in your mind, and you speed up your movements. The prompting worked, evidently, because soon she's practically shoving you through the doorway.
"Finally," she breathes against your lips, pressing you up against the door once you've locked it back. 
"I've been waiting to do this since we met earlier." She indulges you in that little secret, smiling at the way you whimper when she pulls your leg up to wrap around her hips. 
"I'm all yours," you say, making Jennie's heart flutter at the sentiment. For the night, you're hers and she's yours. "...now kiss me," you command, growing more impatient with each feather-light kiss she presses to your jaw. 
"So bossy," she toys, making you roll your eyes. 
"You have no idea, babe." 
She bites her lip as your husky voice makes its way to her ears, thick with the desire she's been steadily building within you all night. You tug her forward, your fingers bunching up the material of her shirt with little care as her lips meet yours. 
Her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for a permission that you granted the second she touched you. You pull her chin down slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen as you tangle your other hand in her hair. 
After an especially bruising bite to her lip -- one that thrills her to her core -- she pulls away, breathlessly asking, "How're you so good at this?" 
You cackle against her, taken aback by how genuine the question sounded. "Practice for the kdramas, of course." 
"I haven't had to do this," you slide a hand between your bodies, smirking at the gasp that sounds off deep in her throat as you make contact with her, "yet though. That might be a little extreme for the screen." 
"You think?" She scoffs softly, bringing her hands up to gather your hair to one side. She presses gentle kisses to your neck, prepping the surface for the dark marks she'll most certainly be leaving there later. 
"Ready?" You ask, making sure she wants to go through with this.
"You have no idea, babe." She copies your statement from earlier, garnering another smile from you. She swears she can never get enough of that sweet look on your face.
"Follow me," you say, giving her another peck to last until you reach the bedroom.
◇◇◇◇◇  The Morning After ◇◇◇◇◇
Warm, glittering rays of sunlight sneak past the curtains of your apartment window, shining gently through the light material. A dream-like haze befalls the room, serving as a wonderful greeting once you peek your eyes open. The only thing capable of rivaling such a wonderful sight is the woman beside you, her soft breaths keeping your shoulder warm. 
As you turn your head to look at her, careful not to wake her, your heart flips. Having her here next to you is the only reason you even believe last night happened; it was magical -- the stuff of fantasy. The two of you did everything: acted on every desire, every impulse -- you truly made the most of the night, determined to make it unforgettable. 
A few blissful minutes later, she stirs beside you. "Good morning, Y/N." Her eyes remain closed, still safe from the bright light of the morning as she smirks at the memories replaying in her mind. 
You lay a small kiss to her lips, simply missing how they feel against your own. "Morning, beautiful." 
A content sigh slips past her lips as she presses them against your neck, cuddling further into you. "Last night was fun." 
You decide to tease her. "Eh, I've had better." 
If there's one thing that Jennie knows, it's that she's good in bed -- great, even -- and you definitely seemed to be enjoying yourself last night, just as much as she was. Still though, a bit of insecurity runs through her as she raises up on her elbow to look at you through her lashes. 
"Really?" She stills her fingers on your arm, stopping them from continuing the trail that they had been blazing just seconds ago. Her eyebrows furrow subtly, the action almost unnoticed by you. 
Deciding the joke isn't worth it, you cup her cheek and raise her head so she can meet your eyes. 
"No, I'm kidding. Last night was… something else." You chuckle, smiling as your eyes move around the room in an attempt to find the right word for it. When none come to mind -- no words capable of conveying how great it was -- you look back to her.
She has a knowing grin on her face, "I couldn't agree more." 
Sneaking a glance at the clock propped up on your bedside table, you get an idea. "You know, Jennie…" you start, purring her name out as you had last night, garnering that achingly familiar groan from her, "...we still have a few hours before either of our schedules start." Your suggestion hangs in the air as you roll her over onto her back, hovering over her and brushing your noses together. 
"Hmm, you don't say? Well you're in luck; I still have some things I wanna try out." She plays back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of your lips as her hands wander over your body.
Your eyes widen in shock, "What the hell could you POSSIBLY be thinking of?? We tried just about everything." She laughs at your reaction and pulls you down closer to her body to whisper in your ear. Jennie can feel you tremble with every new image she puts in your head, just like she had in the park, her lips dragging you further under as she sneaks little kisses to your skin here and there. 
"Let me get this gay straight: you want me to do that on the balcony? What if my neighbors see?" 
"They won't, we're on one of the top floors. And even if they do… would that really be so bad?" She lets the question hang in the air; she'd be lying if she said the idea of getting caught doesn't thrill her. Thinking of your lips on her neck as she rocks against you, pinned to the railing while out in the open for the world to see, sends a rush of warmth through her. 
"I wish you weren't so good at convincing me to do things. You're dangerous, Jennie Kim." You warn, pointing a disapproving finger at her. Your eyes nearly pop out when she kisses it, taking the digit in between her lips while looking up at you innocently. This woman will be the death of you. 
◇◇ Back At The Blackpink Dorm ◇◇
"Yah, I know! The new update looks so weird--" 
"There she is," Lisa says, motioning to the doorway, interrupting Jisoo and Rosé’s conversation about whatever new video game the unnie had downloaded.
Jennie leans on the heavy door as she locks it behind her, lazily spinning around on her heel with her lips drawn back in a huge gummy smile. 
"Somebody's happy…" Jisoo teases, shooting her a smirk. She's still riding the high you put her on, and it's no wonder her members are noticing. It's not like she's exactly trying to hide it, either. 
"How was your night? Have fun with Y/N?" The maknae wiggles her eyebrows while propping herself up on her elbows to see Jennie's reaction.
"LISA! She wasn't supposed to know!" Rosé shouts, letting out a disappointed huff. The younger girl only shrugs, a stupid smirk on her lips. Some people just wanna watch the world burn. 
The brunette's daze is momentarily broken at this, and she asks what they're talking about. 
Jisoo lets out a hesitant breath before explaining, "We saw you two leave together, but we agreed to not bring it up until you did." She shoots some daggers at Lisa before continuing, "Somebody can't seem to keep her mouth shut, though." 
Jennie only chuckles now, not really caring if they knew or not. Her night was too wonderful to keep to herself; she would've ended up telling them anyway. 
"Gather round, girls; I'll fill you in." 
◇◇◇◇◇ Months Later  ◇◇◇◇◇
"Why exactly do we have to go to this premiere again?" Jennie grumbles, looking out the window of their limousine. She'd much rather be back at the dorm, snuggled into her cozy heap of pillows and blankets with Netflix playing on her tv. 
"Some of our colleagues are starring as background characters, so YG wants us to attend and show our support." Jisoo informs, always seeming to have more knowledge than all of the other girls combined. Jennie nods; the reasoning is sound, but she'd still prefer to be home. Mingling with business people for god knows how long doesn't seem all that enticing to her. 
"What's the movie?" Lisa asks, throwing the question behind her to the other girls as she searches the cubby for some complimentary snacks. 
"Empress of the Heart," Rosé answers, finally knowing something that Jisoo doesn't. 
"Let's watch the trailer for it. If we have to sit through it then we might as well see what we're getting ourselves into." Lisa suggests, her fingers busy opening the bag of chips she chose from the assortment. 
"Yeah, okay." Jennie says, her statement followed by words of agreement from the other girls. Rosé takes her phone out to search the title, pepping up when she spots it. She whispers something to Jisoo and Lisa, Jennie paying no mind as she watches the buildings pass by. Her favorite thing to fidget with is secure in her grip, occupying her mind. It's familiar design feels good in her hands -- like it's right where it belongs. (Yes, this is what you think it is).
The other girls put their acting skills to use as they hit play, keeping straight faces when your voice comes through the phone speakers. Jennie's head snaps over to them, recognizing the sound in an instant. "Y-Y/N's starring in it?" She asks, voice coming out as a stutter. The thought of seeing you again thrills her, but she doesn't know if she can do that without falling even deeper. Your night together left her with lasting feelings, none of which she was prepared for in the slightest, and she knows they'll be reignited the moment she lays eyes on you. 
"Mhm." They nod sympathetically, all knowing how much she's thought about you the last few months. 
Their driver knocks on the partition, requesting to open it. They give him the all clear, and soon he's rolling it down to inform them, "We're here, ladies." 
"I'll be okay," Jennie tells them, attempting to stop their worries from growing anymore than they already have. She plays the statement back in her head, whispering it to herself as she exits the limo; tonight could only go one of two ways, and it depends entirely on you.
☆☆ Part 2 Linked Up Top ☆☆
447 notes · View notes
clefairymuke · 3 years
Note
oiiii i have a request for a oneshot or maybe something fun to add to your regrets fic (whatever you find better) I think it would be funny a reader x the scouts drunk and levi finding them and being all cute taking care of reader :3
thank you for this request!! sorry for how long it took, but it managed to pull me out of some writers block that’s been kicking my ass lately. thank you for suggesting it and reading!
as always, much love! <3
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Red Wine | Levi x Reader
pairing: levi x reader
themes: fluff
tw: swearing, alcohol use
word count: 2511
True fun and relaxation is not something you typically experience.
Of course, when you signed up for this whole Scout Regiment thing, you weren’t expecting nights out in bars and plush queen-sized beds with wool blankets. You expected exactly what you got: exhausting days and mostly sleepless nights, demanding grief and waking nightmares. One thing you hadn’t expected, however, was how stale it would get. These thoughts are why you ended up where you are now: propped lazily against a wall surrounded by your friends, loud laughs bubbling freely from your ever-smiling mouth, and a bottle of wine in hand.
While the “why” is clear to you, the “how” is a bit more cloudy. Around the complete euphoria in your head stands a thick fog blocking your memory — that, or the fact that your drunkenly dwindling attention span can no longer support a thought lasting more than a second or two. All you know is that you’re here now, and you’re having the time of your life. Your eyes and ears skirt past Eren and Jean arguing without stopping to listen in as you pass the bottle to Mikasa.
For once, you aren’t thinking about how Levi could make this experience better. Although you love being in the company of your boyfriend, you can’t help but imagine his disdain if he were to witness your situation. You can almost feel the ferocity of his razor sharp-glare creeping up your spine as you picture it within your mind.
You lay your head back on the concrete wall that keeps you upright and close your eyes. Although you had shown to be quite social when the bottle first began to be passed, you now wanted nothing more than to take a nice nap — or to go vomit just to ease yourself of the queasy feeling that was overtaking your stomach. Either would suffice. You listen to your friends chatting mindlessly around you, their care to be inconspicuous slipping away with the wine. You watch Connie drain what was left in the bottle, leaving you to curse at the fact that you would be stuck in the uncomfortable kind of drunk that left you a bit nauseous while still conscious enough to be prone to anxiety.
You sit there in a dizzy oblivion for what could have been five minutes or fifty, tuning out the antics of the rest of the people in the room as they laugh and roughhouse. Your stomach stirs and turns, but your mind begins to clear: you notice Connie and Sasha choreographing a dance routine to music only they could hear; Mikasa and Armin sit quietly chatting behind Eren as he and Jean argue over who is more adept at fighting; Ymir and Christa are making googly eyes at each other over their giggles.
“Hey, guys?” you say, your brain lagging behind your mouth by at least a few seconds. “I’m probably about to throw up.” You quickly discover that you’re right, as your gut begins to bubble and your mouth begins to water.
“Oh, fuck,” Connie mumbles as he looks around the room desperately. Sasha looks disappointed as he stops dancing and approaches where you sit against the wall, gripping your wrists in his hands and helping you to your feet; with both of you being drunk enough to show it, stumbles are surely present. Time skips, and you’re kneeled in front of the toilet, Connie leaving to give you privacy — you’re decidedly much drunker than you thought you were.
Just as you start to vomit, you hear Eren defeatedly say, “Oh, fuck me.” That can’t be good.
The space goes silent save your groans. The most imaginative depths of your brain think that perhaps a titan is looking in the window, waiting to bring you all to your doom. How convenient for half of the newest scout recruits to be intoxicated and defenseless. When you hear Levi’s voice say, “Stupid fucking brats. Where is she?” you wish it were a titan instead.
A chorus of voices answer, “Bathroom.” What a bunch of fucking sellouts, you think to yourself. Your heartbeat begins to pound in your throat again as you hear his footsteps grow near; when he taps at the door a few times, you let it all out — out of fear or simple drunkenness you are unsure. “God damn it,” you hear him mumble before the door handle turns and his hands find your hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail.
He rubs your back in a manner you can only describe as passive-aggressive. You can tell he wants to scold you — and you’re definitely in for it once you get to feeling better — but you can also tell that he wants to care for you. That’s why you try to pretend not to hear his curses as he lectures you on responsibility.
“Why the hell are you drinking with these idiots? I wouldn’t be mad if it was a glass or two, but there are three empty bottles on the floor in there. Three. No wonder you’re puking your fucking guts up,” he mutters, voice low enough for only you to hear despite his angry tone.
You feel your eyes watering as your stomach settles for another brief moment. “Levi,” you say, your breathing labored, “now is not the time.” You hear him scoff before you begin to dry heave, his hand moving a bit more caring across your back as he holds onto your hair. Your gut starts to feel a bit better as your brain realizes there’s nothing left. He places his hands under your arms and lifts you gently to your feet before flushing the toilet. You stumble awkwardly to his lead as he escorts you to the sink.
He reaches around you to turn on the water, which is cold to the touch as he holds your hand beneath it. “Clean your mouth out,” he says, nudging his hand around yours until you form a cup. “It’s disgusting.” You oblige him, lifting it to your lips. You feel it drip down your chin as you swish it around between your teeth, looking up in the mirror to see your blushing cheeks and droopy eyes. Levi stands behind you, dressed in no more than a grey t-shirt and some comfortable-looking pants. His hair is neat and combed, which doesn’t quite match the rest of his attire, but you aren’t complaining. He looks as ethereal as always. After you spit, he grabs your shoulder and spins you around to face him.
“You okay?” he asks, brushing the tears that had formed on your face away with his thumbs. You shake your head at him, your eyes trailing down to the ground. Here comes the scolding.
He sweeps you off your feet, to your surprise, holding you bridal-style as he carries you out of the bathroom. You lay your head against his shoulder, seeing the walls of the room and the faces of your friends go blurrily by as he strides to the door; they all look terrified.
“Laps,” you hear Levi announce to your friends, his voice icy. “At dawn. I don’t give a shit if you’re hungover.”
A chorus of groans is the soundtrack for your exit as the door slams shut. The walk back to Levi’s suite is spotty at best; you’re unsure of exactly how long it’s taking. The scenery around you feels more dreamlike than anything — you find yourself hoping that you’re still propped against the wall with your friends, sleeping soundly and dreaming of Levi catching you red-handed. When time jumps and he’s laying you down on his couch, you’re pretty sure you’re awake.
You hear rustling around as you lay there, still half waiting for a scolding. He rejoins you rather quickly, setting some things down on the side table and gently lifting your head. He sits, letting you back down slowly to lay in his lap. “I brought you bread,” he says, taking it from the table and placing it in your hands. “It’ll soak up the alcohol. There’s water over here when you need it.” You inspect the bread lazily before nibbling on it. The very idea of chewing something and swallowing it is enough to make you nauseous, but you trust his judgement.
You feel his hand fall atop your forehead and his fingers draw circles in your hair. You don’t fight the grin threatening your lips. “Are you okay, my love?” he asks, his voice soft. This is the tenderness you had fallen in love with many months ago; the one thing your friends are blind to. He carries himself with such coldness for the public — he is rude, and blunt, and insufferable, and unobtainable. With you, however, he could be kind. He could be loving. The speed with which his gentle voice melts your heart never lessens. This is Levi at his most vulnerable.
“I’m just drunk,” you tell him, your words slurring into each other. “I’m not dying.”
You hear a chuckle barely pass over his lips like a spring breeze, the sparkle in his eyes reminiscent of the way the sun reflects off the surface of a pond. The peaceful nature of your position is a worthy opponent to how your insides wage war on one another: nausea, dizziness, and the beginnings of what will become an absolutely splitting headache all contained within one disoriented body. “I would’ve gone with you, you know,” he says suddenly after a serene moment of silence. “I would’ve known when you needed to stop drinking.” He combs his fingers against your cheek, silvery eyes softening into pools of undeniable adoration.
“You would’ve been a complete buzzkill,” you reply, half joking as you close your eyes and enjoy the rare affection.
You hear a cross between a scoff and a laugh come from above you. “Keeping those brats from getting you so wasted that you start puking isn’t being a buzzkill. It’s called taking care of you.”
“I think I’m not drunk enough,” you say honestly. “We ran out of wine right at that stage where you could go to sleep or start throwing up, but there’s absolutely no chance of having a good time.”
He taps the top of your head with two fingers, prompting you to let him up. You oblige him, using the opportunity to lay down your bread and take a sip from the glass of water that rests on the side table. You watch as he saunters back toward the kitchen, wondering what he was doing somewhat, but mostly just trying to get a grip on your senses. You sit up as you wait on his return, laying your head back against the plush upholstery and taking deep breaths.
He’s back as quickly as he left, both hands behind his back in a feeble attempt to hide the wine glasses as their stems poked around to your view. You feel a smile creep onto your face as he unveils his master plan: a bottle of red wine and a glass for each of you. “Don’t expect this often,” he announces as he sets it all on the table, pulling a wine key from his pocket. He joins you on the couch, scooting in close so that your knees brush before you hear the satisfying pop of the cork and the relaxing swish of liquid on glass.
“You’re expecting me to believe that Captain Levi is offering to get drunk with me?” you giggle, almost nervous to reach for the wine in front of you. He laughs off your comment, reaching in front of him and lifting the glass to his lips; he takes only a sip before looking at you in expectation. You take yours as well, holding it up to his jokingly before you both bring them to your mouths.
After your first gulp, time begins to melt away. A movie-esque montage begins in front of your eyes: the sight of the man you love, once so stoic and so stiff, loosening and laughing the night away at your side; the feeling of typically isolated and scarce hands trailing carelessly along the length of your arms, warm against the sensitive skin of your wrists and your thighs; the smell of red wine spilled innocently on hardwood and upholstery without complaints or uprooting to clean it; the sound of his velvet and brass voice with his uncensored expressions of love, whispered and melodic; the taste of mint and jasmine tea on his unusually wandering lips.
What might be thirty minutes or three hours passes in a flash, leaving you sprawled across the couch with the drunken mess that is your typically reserved lover, legs utterly entangled so that you were unsure where you ended and he began. He’s whispering to you — that much you know — but his words are slurred, and you’re unbelievably distracted by the feeling of wet kisses being peppered along your jaw and ear. He grasps at your back, massaging and caressing and leaving no inch uncovered by his calloused hands as his touch reminds you why you breathe and laugh and plainly exist.
“Levi,” you whisper, your mind a tangled ball of twine save for the feeling of his breath on your cheek.
He hums in response, not bothering to look up at you. You can feel his grin against your jaw.
“We should get to bed, love.”
You’d be left to wonder how the two of you made it into the next room when morning came; rest assured there would be a trail from the couch to the bedroom door made from clumsily knocked-over knick knacks and your discarded clothes from the day to clue you in. If you were sober, you’d care enough about Levi’s wrath tomorrow to clean up behind the two of you; however, you aren’t sober, and you don’t care enough.
The two of you fall into the bed you share, intertwining your limbs like the threads of a tapestry, laying out plainly and beautifully the comfort you find in him. Your head finds his chest and his hands find your lower back, pulling you flush against him as his eyelids begin their threats to close before he is quite ready. He murmurs out your name, his hold on you growing more snug when it passes his lips. “I love you, s—” he falters, nuzzling his face in the top of your head. “So much.”
It’s short — and a pretty common thing for someone to say to the person they love — but it means everything coming from him. “I love you, Levi,” you tell him, praying to whatever is up there that you’ll remember this in the morning.
Soon, the two of you stop stirring and whispering. As you breathe him in, you try to hear his words in your mind as many times as you can before you slip out of consciousness. You begin to drift off to sleep, peaceful and content in his arms as you’ve ever been.
253 notes · View notes
gashinabts · 3 years
Text
philophobia|(m)
Words: 7.4k
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature
Summary: Taehyung, a man, who swears he’ll never fall in love meets Y/N a hopeless romantic.
Warnings: Teasing, spitting, oral (f/receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing ( lmao idk if thats a thing?), squirting, sexual intercourse, mention of homophobia. Topics of child neglecting, if this makes you uncomfortable pls don’t read :) minor character death
A/N: Taehyung is a bisexual king! Tell me what you peeps think, remember that comments motivate me to continue writing!!! This is my work, no reposting this and my other works on any other platforms.
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Kim Taehyung was born December 30, 1995 his father left him when he was 11 years old that is when Taehyung realized that love never lasts. His mother pretended that his father never existed, she quickly hid the family photos away, along with covering his tomato garden with dirt. Taehyung wanted to ask where he went but stopped wondering when he heard a few of his classmates whispering that Taehyung’s dad left them for a young woman in her twenties. 
As Taehyung grew into his teenage years he would often get asked out by his classmates, he wouldn’t decline, accepting the dates to see if he can ever fall foolishly in love like his Mom once did. However, nothing ever happened, he would kiss them goodnight but won’t call them the next day. In high school he lost his virginity at a party, he wasn’t nervous, just did things he’s seen in filthy pornorgraphy. The very next day the girl spread the rumor that Taehyung was a sex god, that he probably had sex everyday with a different people. Was that a compliment? He remembered thinking to himself as he sat in the back of the classroom, feeling people secretly stare at him. 
That day he met Jimin. Jimin was a popular boy that everyone swoon over. Of course he had a girlfriend, they have been dating since middle school. The guys would gawk at her when she would wear a sports bra to track practice. Taehyung was in art class sketching an apple, Jimin came over and talked to him as if they were friends. It was nice, Taehyung listened to Jimin complain about his art. When class was over, Jimin asked Taehyung to hang out with him after school. When Taehyung sat on Jimin’s bed, he looked over on the desk and saw a picture of Jimin and his girlfriend. Right next to it was a picture of what he assumed was Jimin’s family. A Mom, Dad, an older brother, and Jimin. He turned his gaze back to Jimin...who was undressing in front of him. Jimin’s underwear was the only thing on, Taehyung didn’t expect him to have lean muscles and define abs. An hour later  they were both breathless, exhausted from the sex. 
“ I’m not gay.” Jimin tells Taehyung as he cleans himself with a rag. 
“ Okay.” Taehyung shrugs and pulls his pants up. He’s watched gay porn and straight porn before and got turned on by both of them, so it doesn’t come to much of a surprise that he enjoyed the sex with Jimin. 
*******
Taehyung watches from afar when Jimin kisses his girlfriend in the school halls, wondering if that’s love. The next few months, Taehyung and Jimin fool around more. Jimin would call Taehyung over, then they would fuck and they would both be on their way. There were never conversations or pillow talks, until right now.
“ I’m gay.” Jimin confesses to Taehyung. 
“Cool.” Taehyung shrugs, looking for his shoes. 
“ That’s all your gonna say?” Jimin rolls his eyes grabbing his t-shirt wiping the come on his stomach. 
“ I’m bisexual, happy?” Taehyung looks at his phone and notices a missed call from his mother. He tucks his phone away, “ Why are you still with her? Your girlfriend.” He finally asks the question he’s been meaning to ask since the beginning.
“ I love her and I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t love her like that.” Jimin looks at the picture of them and flips it down, almost ashamed of how much of a coward he is. “ Plus my Dad would kill me if I told him I like men.” He throws his head back looking at the ceiling not wanting to cry his eyes out. 
Taehyung thinks love is complicated, he thinks people who are in love are selfish. They rather hurt themselves for the sake of love. It’s stupid he wants to tell Jimin that but he keeps quiet until Jimin looks at him with tears eyes. “ I don’t know what to say…”
“It’s fine...you don’t have to say anything just keep me company, yeah?” 
“ Okay,” Taehyung sits back on the bed watching but not really watching tv with Jimin. 
---
Taehyung’s mom was proud of him when he got accepted to a good college, she would brag to her friends and show pictures of his acceptance letters. Along with bragging how she raised Taehyung all by herself. Taehyung didn’t mind that he was in the spotlight, whatever made his mom happy he would comply with whatever she does. He was good with numbers so he was going to major in data analysis, he really wanted to major in art but his mom laughed in his face, telling him to be realistic. 
Taehyung is now in his third year of college, wanting to just graduate already, done with the shitload of classwork and long ass lectures. Just right now he just finished his homework that took him three hours. He’s about to call it a night until Jungkook barges in his room, yelling at him to get dressed for a party. Taehyung switches his dirty hoodie with a clean hoodie, opting out grey sweatpants with jeans. He keeps his glasses on, due to his eyes being tired and not wanting to irritate them with contacts. 
Jungkook hands Taehyung a drink, there’s obscene music, blunts being handed around, and people grinding on each other. “ When’s the last time you got laid?” Jungkook asked, as he took a gulp of his beer.
“ Last week...I think.” Taehyung searches through his mental sex list, but can’t seem to remember the girls face or name. He looks around and watches a couple argue with each other. The man rolls his eyes as the woman tries not to cry, the woman ends up leaving him and going upstairs.
“ Damn, lucky. I tried to hook up with this girl and she ended up leaving me hanging. Claimed that she’s not over her boyfriend, started crying on me when I was going down on her.” Jungkook cringes, sipping more alcohol. “ Be my wingman, yeah?” 
“ Sure,” Taehyung nods. Jungkook is talking to this pretty girl, and she laughs at every joke that Jungkook makes. Taehyung wasn’t even sure why he asked him to his wingman when Jungkook can easily get a girl to bed. Jungkook nods absentmindedly when Taehyung excuses himself, he wanders around the frat house looking at people getting wasted. Once he gets tired of it he goes upstairs, hoping to find solace in an empty room. He opens a bedroom door, and notices a girl with a pencil and notebook. “ My bad-,” Taehyung is about to close the door.
You look up from your sketchpad, you see a tall man with messy curls and glasses. “ You can stay,” you observe him, he looks like he was forced to come here. There’s no red solo cup in his hand, he looks like he hasn’t a good night's rest. Also why else would he look mindlessly into rooms, the bathroom doors have a handwritten sign stating ‘BATHROOM’, so he must be bored or something searching into bedrooms. “ Or don’t. I don’t care.” You watch him close the door, entering the room.
“ Is this your room?” Taehyung looks around the room, noticing posters of naked women and marvel posters. Weird combination he notes. Along with the dirty clothes scattered all over the floor. 
“ No,” you laugh. Shutting your notebook close, taking notice of his nice hands brushing his hair back. “ My friend’s room. I didn’t really feel like partying just decided to sketch,” you lift your pad up. He nods and sits on the bed.
“ Can I draw?” Taehyung points towards the sketchpad. He hasn’t drawn in months too busy in his schoolwork, his fingers would sometimes draw on foggy windows but nothing more. You nod tearing a piece of paper out and handing him a pencil, he thanks you. 
You were sneakily glancing at him, sketching him, his angular jaw, messing hair, uneven eyelid, long eyelashes. Getting lost at his elegant features, wondering if he knows how beautiful he looks. You shake your head for easily fawning over this man. His hands are even beautiful, they travel across the paper gracefully with each stroke. You turn your eyes away when he makes eye contact with you, cheeks getting warm. “ What’s your name?” You ask while shading the contours of his cheeks.
“ Taehyung.” He folded his paper into a small square, putting it into his pocket. “ Yours?”
“ Y/N,” you smile.
---
“ Did you get laid yesterday night?” Jungkook is shirtless with scratch marks behind his back, there’s a couple of hickies on his neck.
Taehyung takes a sip of his tea before answering, “No, just talking to some girl. Her name is Y/N.” 
“ Y/N. She’s a nice girl. One time I forgot a scantron for class and she gave me one. She’s also friends with Namjoon.” Jungkook pours himself coffee sitting next to Taehyung. “ Are you interested in her?”
Taehyung would be lying if said he wasn’t interested in you. When he entered the room he thought you were pretty and had a kind smile. “ Maybe...why?” 
“ It’s best if you don’t try to get at her. Y/N looks the type to fall in love easily.” Jungkook sighs cracking his back on the back of the chair, groaning at his achy body. Taehyung wonders how can someone fall in love easily, he’s not one to believe in love at first sight or any kind of stuff in that realm. “ Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can leave.” 
Taehyung and Jungkook are at the library studying or trying to study, Jungkook is texting someone the whole time instead of studying for his macroeconimics test. While Taehyung is playing video games on his phone. “ Hey guys! Didn’t know you actually study Jungkook,” Namjoon jokes, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook rolls his eyes pushing his hand off his head mumbling curse words at him. Taehyung looks to the side of Namjoon and notices you laughing as the scene unfolds. You’re carrying ice americanos and Jungkook immediately takes it out of the carrier, thanking you. 
You look at Taehyung placing one in front of him, “ I didn’t know what kind of coffee you liked.” Taehyung is wearing similar clothing to what he wore at the party, mostly muted green colors and his circle glasses, his hair is pushed back with a headband. He looks surprised to see you, but nevertheless thanks you for the coffee. The conversations between Jungkook and Namjoon get more serious when they finally decide to study for their materials. You try to study but you want to talk to Taehyung wanting to get to know him more, you nudge your foot against his leg. He looks up, looking at you in question, you nod your head towards the exit entrance, he nods slowly unsure to what you're up to but following your lead. Jungkook and Namjoon are too invested in their studying to see you and Taehyung leave. “ Do you wanna go to my apartment?”
“ Sure,” Taehyung shrugs. The apartment was small and kind of messy, you try to hurry up and toss some of the paintbrushes in the sink. There’s water cups filled with murky colors, and paint marks on the tables, he’s not used to a sight like this. In his apartment it is always clean and tidy, not a dirty plate in sight. “ You live by yourself?” he asked, placing his stuff on the table. 
“ Yeah, my roommate moved four months ago with her boyfriend.” You give up cleaning the mess since there’s too much to clean. “ Want some-” You are interrupted when you feel Taehyung’s lips on your, your hands push his chest flustered at the sudden kiss.
“ I-I- sorry...I must have read something wrong,” he looks embarrassed immediately backing up giving you space. “ I thought you invited me to your apartment for sex.” Taehyung notices how your eyes widen, fuck he feels like an ass, scared that he made you uncomfortable. “ I should go…” he goes to pick up his bags ready to bolt out.
“ I just wanted to talk...to get to know you better,” you speak before his hands grab the doorknob. “ We can paint and talk, if that's okay with you?” 
“ Are you sure? You don’t want me to leave?” 
“ Stay.” You go to the sink to wash your dirty brushes. 
Taehyung sits down looking at the wall, notices a canvas of a man, he has plump lips, gentle eyes, overall he is beautiful, something that seemed out of this world. Maybe it was the way it was painted that made it appear like that. “ You painted that?” Taehyung speaks shifting his gaze to you.
You look at where Taehyung was pointing at, it was the painting of your ex boyfriend, “ Yeah, that’s my ex boyfriend, Seokjin. The professor told us to paint the definition of love…,” you stare at Seokjin’s face, remembering the memories you shared. The brushes are all cleaned and you set them down, grabbing some water colors that are in the cabinet. 
“ Do you still love him?” Taehyung curiously asked, watching carefully at your reaction.
There’s a slight pain of thinking about him, truly not over his death. “ Yeah I’ll always have love for him…” 
Taehyung wants to ask more about him but doesn’t want to intrude, he doesn’t say anything else but paints. This is when Taehyung feels like he’s truly being himself painting, expressing himself without saying anything. Moments like these wish Taehyung would’ve chosen doing what he has a passion for insteading appealing to his mothers standards. 
“ Why are you a data analysis major?” The artwork he is doing is remarkable, there’s dark undertones and eerie about it but it is beautiful something that you have to keep staring at.
He chuckles, “ Because I need to eat.” You look down feeling a little insulted he must've noticed since he immediately apologizes. 
“ It’s okay. You know if you ever want to relax and paint, you can come here,” you continue painting small flowers. The first time, he smiles and nods his head.
---
5 months later
This is the third flower shop visited and he’s getting more tired with each second. “ This arrangement or this one?” You ask Taehyung, as you hold two bouquets. One was more filled with carnations and the other was filled with lilies. He gives it some thought before pointing at the carnations. “ This would be pretty to paint,” you smell it getting happy inside.
“ Finally, when can we eat...I didn't eat anything this morning,” his stomach growls at the thought of food. He’s still carrying the vases you bought at the thrift shop, you had to plead with you to not buy another antique mirror because he knows he would have to carry it to the apartment.
You gave the cashier the money, as he wraps the flowers in newspaper, turning your head you look at Taehyung, “ Why did you come with me if you were going to complain the whole time?” You laugh at his scrunched nose as you pinch it. The flowers are handed back and you thank the cashier, leaving with Taehyung.
“ Because I wanted to,” Taehyung shrugs. In your apartment he puts the flowers away as you cook him food, he always enjoys your cooking. When he was younger all he ever ate was ramen, never really ate some home cooked meals, his mother was always busy working trying to financially support the family so he never once asked his mom for dinner. Even at his own apartment he doesn’t eat Jungkook’s food since he doesn’t know how to cook either. Sometimes when he’s hungry he’ll just come to your apartment and you’ll be more than happy to cook for him.
When Taehyung enters his apartment Jungkook is watching anime, foot propped on the table and sipping some beer. “ Back from your girlfriends’ so soon?” 
“ Not my girlfriend but yeah, I left my schoolwork here so I had to come back,” he sighs. Taehyung doesn’t get mad when Jungkook teases him about you being his girlfriend, but he sometimes gets annoyed. He likes the friendship between the two of you, it’s different from any other friendships he had in the past. “ Tomorrow night the apartment is mine. This guy wants to hangout with me.”
“ Just say he wants to fuck you,” Jungkook yells as Taehyung closes his bedroom door. 
---
You meet Taehyung at the park with some bread, he hugs you and asks about your day. “ It was okay. Had lunch with my Dad, but it always ends up in some lecture. I swear, sometimes it feels like I’m fifteen or something,” you tear a piece of bread throwing it into the pond watching some ducks gobble it. You try to look at Taehyung but it hurts when you see some hickies on his neck. On the day you were about to confess your feelings to Taehyung you asked him if he ever loved someone, he laughed and said that he doesn’t believe in no such thing as love. As much as you wanted to disapprove of that idea, you couldn’t be the one to change it.
He grabs some bread, chucking some pieces out, “ What was the argument?”
You laugh thinking about your Dad’s red face, “ I invited him to my apartment, and he found the blunt we smoked together in the ashtray.”
“ Shit, I should’ve thrown it away,” Taehyung laughs too, pushing some of his hair back. 
“ Just glad he didn’t find any of my sex toys,” you cringe just thinking about it. You feel something tugging the end of your skirt, looking down you see a toddler smiling cheekily pointing at the bread. You smile, “ Here, have fun,” you hand him the rest of your bread. You watch him wobble as he runs to his mother throwing the whole slice in the water. 
“ Sex toys?” Taehyung asked once the child was out of sight. “ Like what?,” Taehyung is interested, he doesn’t know, maybe because he can’t imagine you using them. Or he wants to know how you use it. There were times when Taehyung wanted to have sex with you but he turned those urges off. He doesn’t want to give you mixed signals remembering Jungkook’s words of advice. “ Never-”
“ A dildo, vibrator, hitachi wand, or even my favorite pillow,” you trail off not thinking much until you realize who you are confessing to. “ I-I uh…”
“ How often?,” Taehyung asked quietly, not wanting any other people hearing the conversation. He shouldn’t get turned on but he is.
Something about Taehyung’s deep quiet voice is making you squeeze your thighs, “ Every night…” You're still looking at the pond, watching the ripples that are caused by the ducks swimming away. You can feel Taehyung's stare but you ignore it. The conversation switches to another topic when you talk about your school work. The sun sets and you both part ways.
The sound of tea kettle wakes you up from your concentration of you sketching, sighing you pour yourself the tea. Looking at your art, you turn it over not wanting to see Taehyung’s face right now. But fate has different plans when you hear knocking on the door, Taehyung appears, he lets himself in and is close to your face.
“ Taehyung?” You’re puzzled at his frazzled state, deeply staring into your eyes. 
“ Can I kiss you?” The words are quiet but firm. Stupidly you nod, not caring about any consequences. His hands cup your face, immediately going into the kiss. The kisses get deeper, his hands travel to your hips bringing you closer to him quickly, you lose friction from the fluffy socks you're wearing causing you to slip, immediately grabbing Taehyung as you fall backwards. His hands are quick to save himself from not falling onto you. There’s a slight pain on your tailbone but is immediately forgotten when Taehyung goes back to kissing you.
The big t-shirt you are wearing is tossed, his hands immediately fondle your breast, his lips leaving kisses on your neck, groaning as he pushes his bulge against your clothed core. “ Taehyung...let me touch you,” you moan when he bites your neck. He pulls back, pecking your lips before taking off his clothes. Your hands trail against his chest, his stomach, towards his pelvic, trying to remember every part of him. He is surprised to have you touching him like he was some marvel statue, usually his past hookups just rush into the sex. It’s very intimate and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.
 Taehyung groans when you touch his dick, he’s hard and wants to be inside of you already. He comes down kissing you, his hands get rid of your panties, fingers spreading your wetness. The moans you let out are turning him on even more, he stretches you out with his fingers. He likes the way your eyes flutter, the shape of your lips tremble, along with your chest inhaling and exhaling deeply. “ You are so pretty,” he doesn’t mean to say it loudly but he does. There’s a blush that blooms on your cheeks, it reminds him of the flowers you would get to study paint.
“ Taehyung,” you moan slightly flustered at his compliment. He reaches for his pants grabbing a condom. “ You don’t want to go to the bedroom?” The floor is still cold against your back, and the last time you cleaned the floor was days ago. 
Taehyung shakes head, already putting on the condom not wanting to waste time, “ Too far,” he smiles when you laugh. He enters you feeling you clench tightly around, he moans digging his head into your neck. “ You are so tight,” he groans. “ Feels so fucking good, having you like this,” he confesses.
You moan loudly, his thick cock streching “ Oh fuck, Taehyung, please just fuck me,” your hands go to his waist urging him to move. He listens to your command, thrusting slowly trying to get deep as he can. Maybe if you can close your eyes you can pretend that he’s in love with you. He goes faster and cries at the pace he’s going, the pleasure is overwhelming, something that you can’t get with your own hands. “ I’m close already,” your hand goes to tug at his wavy hair.
“ Me too,” his voice is deeper. His hand travels down to your pussy searching for your clit and rubbing it. “ Come for me,” he says into your ear. You moan his name loudly, cumming around his cock, scratching his back. The sight of you creaming around him makes him immediately come, he searches for your lips, moaning your name in the kiss. The two of you lay in the afterglow of the sex, panting loudly his body is barely being hold up, and you laying on the hard floor.
Taehyung gets up throwing his condom away, he looks at you still laying on the floor with your eyes close, the realization of him having sex with you just popped up. He hurriedly gets dressed, then helps you get dressed, he gets shocked when you kiss him as a thank you. The next morning Taehyung wakes up early, making sure to leave quietly, not wanting to disrupt your sleep.
---
You weren’t going to lie, it kind of hurt not waking up beside Taehyung but you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. Namjoon invites you to a kick back, only inviting a few people to his house to chill and drink. You take solace on the couch, watching people get high and drunk, you weren’t in the mood to do either so you make conversation with a slightly high Hoseok. He’s in mid-discussion about Shrek being a cinematic masterpiece, when Jungkook yells from the door entrance that he has Taco Bell. Taehyung is beside him wearing all black beanie, crewneck, and sweatpants, but still looks better than half of the people here.
 You turn your gaze back to Hoseok who’s left walking towards Jungkook immediately grabbing a taco. Sighing you decide to get fresh air, staring at the tall dark buildings. “ Whatcha you doing here by yourself? It’s fucking freezing,” Taehyung speaks out closing the slider door standing by you. He takes off his vape pen inhaling it.
“ Wanted fresh air,” you shrug, still staring at the buildings. “ Hoseok left me for tacos. He was onto something, saying that Shrek is a masterpiece. Who knows maybe he’ll write his thesis about it.” Taehyung chuckles, he keeps looking at you and you finally stare at him. “ Why’d you kiss me yesterday?”
He blows out the smoke, and puts his pen away, “ Cuz I wanted to,” he shrugs not thinking much about it. 
“ Nothing else?” You arch your eyebrow.
He continues to stare into your eyes “ Nope,” he shakes his head.  
Some part of you wanted him to say that he had feelings for you but in the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t going to happen. You smile pushing his chest, “ Well that’s the last time we are ever going to do anything like that.” The both of you know that is a lie.
---
For the next couple of months you and Taehyung continue sleeping with each other.
When you are studying with Namjoon in the library, Jungkook and Taehyung spontaneously show up, causing Namjoon to groan. “ You know you love me,” Jungkook jokingly says sitting next to him. 
Taehyung sits down next to you, looking at your classwork, “ How long have you been studying,” he whispers. 
You turn to look at the time of your phone, “ Like four hours,” you sigh. He hands you a jolly rancher, you immediately put in your mouth. “ Why are you here? You texted me that you were going to take a fat ass nap?”
“ I wanted to see you, kind of missed you,” he lays his head against the table. His eyes close when you brush his soft hair. 
“ I’ll be done in forty minutes.” He lets off a quiet okay continuing to look at you doing your work. 
Taehyung wakes up to you caressing his cheek, his neck is in pain from the awkward position he slept in. “ Where did Jungkook and Namjoon go?,” he looks at the empty seats. He tries to crack his neck and watches you pack your stuff.
“ They left about twenty minutes ago,” you get up stretching your legs. “ Let’s head home. We still have left over pizza,” you groan at the pain on your lower back. 
For some odd reason Taehyung liked hearing you say home, there’s some comfort it gives him but he never says it out loud. Taehyung grabs your backpack, holding it for you as you walk towards your car. You look in the fridge for the pizza, but Taehyung has other plans when he closes the fridge door, pinning you against it kissing you feverishly, his tongue already begging for entrance. Laughing you push him away, “ What’s gotten into you?”
“ I told you...I miss you,” his hands are on your waist. He kisses you again, picking you up easily and placing you on the kitchen table. He takes off your pants and panties, and you reach for his pants but he stops you forcing you to lie completely on the table. “ Look at you, laying so pretty on the table,” he bends down kissing you on your lips before he goes down on you. 
He licks your cunt, gently prodding his tongue up and down. Your hips move frantically wanting to feel more of him. His rough hands pin your hips, and he continues with his teasing, lightly kissing your clit before touring you with his slow pace.  “ Look at your pussy, it looks like the roses you painted yesterday…,” his finger goes up and down your folds.
The words make your cheeks grow hot, “ No it doesn’t,” you get shy shaking your head. The embarrassment fills your body, for maybe shamelessly liking his compliment. You are probably never going to look at roses the same way ever again.
“ Yeah, it does Y/N, but your pussy is more pretty,” he continues to tease you. Wanting to see you get more flustered, he likes it when you do it gets him more turned on. “ I wonder if it smells like roses too,” he’s about to smell your pussy but you hold his head. He watches you cutely shake your head. 
Taehyung is filthy but it makes you get even more aroused. “ It won’t,” you whisper, wanting to cry but he shakes his kissing the inside of your thigh to try to comfort you. 
He smells your pussy and he groans, your heart thumps faster and nervous for what's about to say, “ It smells better,” he kisses your clit. His tongue keeps tracing your folds gently wanting to make you beg for more. The movement of his tongue makes you want to pull your own hair out. The pleasure is barely there but it grows within each second of his tongue flicking up and down.
“ Taehyung,” you let out desperate whine, “ please, I need more.” One of his hands slap your cunt, and your back arches surprise but even more turned on. You never knew that you were into that. The sting hurts at first but shoots up ecstasy after a nanosecond, you can’t help but seek more. “ More!” 
Taehyung lets out a dark chuckle, he gives you another slap, slightly harder on the center of your clit, the stinging making your face scrunch up but letting out a lewd moan. He groans at your wetness seeping out some of it landing on the table.
Suddenly, he is done with all the teasing, and dives in, nose touching your clit and tongue inside your entrance going in and out. Finding it extremely hot that you are riding his face, like the pillow on your bed. Taehyung vividly remembers when you showed him how you ride your pillow last week. The way you desperately let out cute whines trying so hard to relieve yourself as Taehyung only watched, wanting to see you get off without his help. 
He moves his face side to side so his nose can rub your clit. Head in the clouds, your body is floating with ecstasy wanting to stay in it forever. Your hands reach down trying to anchor yourself, Taehyung reaches for your hand holding it tight. You cry out his name loudly, coming intensely, your eyes are shut when it doesn’t seem to stop. Your body finally calms down, looking down you see Taehyung’s face is completely wet. “ Oh my god, did I-
“ Fuck, that was hot,” Taehyung wipes his face with the back his arm. He kisses your lips, he helps you from the table, handing you your panties. 
“ Let me repay you?,” you tug at his belt loop, you look down to see the bulge is gone and there’s a wet stain. Your eyes widen, “ Did you come?”
“ Yeah, you squirting on me, made me bust a nut. I swore I never came that hard either,” he sighs happily. Laughing you go towards the fridge, finally eating the cold pizza. You hand him one and he eats it in two bites. “ My mom called me today…”
Taehyung hardly talks about his family, you only know that he was raised only by his mother. He never talked bad about her but you can tell that they didn’t have a close  relationship. “ What happened?” You and Taehyung move so you're sitting on the couch.
“ She told me that my father wanted to meet up with me,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “ Told her that I don’t want to. She started crying and telling me that he’s my father...I sometimes think she’s still in love with him. She’s an idiot.” He lays his back staring at the ceiling.
“ Sometimes it’s hard to get over someone that you once loved. The one you shared your laughs, arguments, touches, memories...vanish into thin air... or you could hold onto it. Love isn’t easy...it’s messy, it’s confusing but it’s beautiful being able to share it with someone. Don’t you think?” You look at Taehyung’s side profile.
Taehyung turns his head looking at you, “ I don’t know...I will never fall in love. I don’t want to end up like my parents,” he closes his eyes.
“ Taehyung-“
He opens his eyes smiling, grabbing your hands, “ Let’s head to bed,” already over the conversation. 
---
Jungkook is cooking breakfast and almost burns his hand when a random girl walks out of Taehyung’s room. Immediately she exits their apartment, doing the walk of shame. Taehyung walks out shirtless with hickies on his chest and dishevelled hair. Jungkook clears his throat, “ Thought you were seeing Y/N,” he turns off the stove.
Taehyung grabs a glass of water, “ We are just friends,” he takes several gulps.
Jungkook scoffs rolling his eyes at his friend’s stupidity, “ Yeah, friends who have sex, hold hands, and almost spend every night together. My bad I forgot they changed the definition of ‘friends’ in the Webster dictionary.”
“ Whatever man...I'm out of here,” Taehyung leaves the kitchen going to his room. He looks at himself in the mirror, disgusted at his appearance, at the splotchy marks on his neck. Why am I like this? Taehyung leaves his apartment ignoring Jungkook, entering your apartment with his set of keys. He looks at you cooking pancakes, you look at him quickly and smiling.
“ Hey...you want some? It’s your favorite banana pancakes,” you flip the pancake. He looks at the big stack of pancakes you have on the table, you continue with the last couple of pancakes and sit down taking a couple of bites. You are consumed by the taste, not really focusing on Taehyung until he clears his throat, looking at him you notice marks on his neck. Your heart plummets, you thought the whole time the two of you have been messing around he wasn’t seeing anyone else. “ You hooked up with someone else yesterday?,” you set your utensils down.
Taehyung nods trying to look nonchalant, “ Yeah, is that a problem?” 
“ No,” you try to lie to yourself but it’s no use, your face looks the opposite of how you feel, disheartening, you can’t save face even if your life's on the line. Swallowing hard you shake your head, “ Actually, yes. It is a problem,” you sigh. “ I don’t understand you. You treat me like a lover, but then you do things like this…” you get up from the kitchen table tossing the plates in the sink, not caring that you didn’t finish the meal, “ I open my heart with you but you don’t do the same. I feel used in this relationship or whatever the hell this is,” your hands clenched tightly as you turn around and face Taehyung.
He’s now by the kitchen counter standing up, “ I told you I’m not looking for love. I’m sorry if I gave you mixed feelings but I don’t want this to end whatever we have with each other. I like how things are-”
You scoff, rolling your eyes at his words, “ Well I don’t...if you want to fuck around then do it... I’m not going to care for you like I love you anymore.” The angry tears stream down your face, your hands wipe them before he could, “ Go Taehyung. I wish you the best,” his face is etched with subtle pain, turning away from him you wash the dishes not bothering to look at the sound of him leaving.
---
Three days later
Taehyung hasn’t been sleeping well, tossing and turning, giving up completely and decides to study all night long. This has been a daily occurrence since the fight with you. I’m not going to care for you like I love you anymore. Taehyung groans, wanting to get the image of you out of his brain. Jungkook knocks on his door, eyes widening at the sight of him, “ You look like shit, c’mon Namjoon is having another get together.”
When Taehyung shows up to the party he watches you have a conversation with Hoseok, from a far distant, unsure how you would react if you saw him. Taehyung waits till Hoseok leaves, walking towards you as you are on your phone texting someone. He watches you jolt as he calls your name. “ Hey,” you greet him but there’s no smile or warmth like you usually greet. And he hates it, it makes him feel like a stranger.
“ About the last time, I’m sorry that we got into an argument,” Taehyung apologizes, he tucks his hands in his pockets, a nervous tick he developed when he was elementary. 
“ Ok,” you nod your head, not wanting to discuss something so private in a social setting. “ I should get going, I got a research paper to go over,” you give him one last glance and leave, not saying goodbye to anyone else.
Taehyung doesn’t like the way your back faces him, leaving him all alone with a place full of people. He pushes against people not wanting to let you go so easily, he wants to talk to you, he wants to hear you talk. He wants to lay in your bed and listen to your heart beat while you stroke his hair, letting him fall asleep in your arms. You're opening your car door, and you halt when he calls your name, you wait patiently for what he’s going to say. Please stay.  “ I-I uh...I wish you the best, Y/N” Taehyung says. He watches you give him one last small smile and drive away. 
---
Six months later
Taehyung hates visiting his mother, there’s always something unsettling when he enters his childhood home. As soon as greets his mother she comments about his weight, his slightly long wavy hair, and baggy clothes. She doesn’t ask him college, she never does. Instead he listens to her talk about her work. “ I told your father that you're in town,” she says over the sound of the faucet. Taehyung nods, handing her the dirty dishes, “ I told him you are free tomorrow, you are going to visit him at IHOP,” she leaves no room for argument. 
The sun wakes up Taehyung before his alarm does, he doesn’t really put in effort to look nice but when his mother gives him a look, he changes into something more appropriate. Maybe if Taehyung was in middle school he would be nervous meeting his father but now that he’s an adult he couldn’t care less. It takes him a while to find his father, he looks older from his adolescent years, has a few gray hairs and slightly wrinkled skin. His father stands up, and Taehyung immediately holds his hand out giving him a handshake not wanting to receive an awkward hug. His father looks surprised but compiles, awkwardly laughing and sits down taking a gulp of his hot black coffee. “ I ordered your favorite,” his father points to the triple drizzle chocolate milkshake with a red cherry on top that is set in front of Taehyung. “ How are you kiddo? You look so grown up, your mother has been feeding you well, huh?”
“ Yup.” Taehyung looks at the red cherry. 
There’s too much uncomfortable tension, and his father is letting more awkward coughs to try to fill the silence. “ Almost done with college, yeah? Just three more months, and you gotta face the real world,” his father comments.
Taehyung has been facing the real world since he was a teenager, he worked when he was in highschool to pay for college, he cooked his own dinner because his mother always came home late, he didn’t need to graduate college to find out the world was shitty. “ Yeah.”
His father tries really hard to have some sort of conversation with his son.“ You still like to paint?”
Taehyung smiles, getting reminded of you. He wonders what you are doing right now, if you are painting the canvas he bought you when you guys were friends. “ No. I mean yeah, sorta. I painted with this girl, she made me fall back in love with painting but I did something horrible to her. Now I can’t paint without thinking about her,” he sighs. 
There’s surprise etched on his father’s face, since more than a word came out of his son’s mouth. “ Seems like a very important person to you. You should talk things out with her, don’t want to lose someone like that.” 
Taehyung rolls his eyes, “ Why? You did the same thing to us.”
“ Taehyung-”
“ You really fucked me up father, I hate that you and mom made me this way. I want to love her but I’m scared...what if she ends up leaving me like you did. I rather be alone for the rest of my life than to have someone steal a part of me,” Taehyung grits his teeth.
“ I-I I’m sorry Taehyung...I really am. I hate myself everyday for not visiting you, I should’ve been there for you...Your mother and I once loved each other but sometimes people fall out of love, but that doesn’t mean love is evil. Don’t give up on love because of our failed marriage, son, you deserve to be in love.”
---
One week later
“ Fuck, watch where you going asshole,” you yell at the asshole who wasn’t paying attention that made you drop all of your art supplies. He doesn’t even bother apologizing, just continues to walk with his friends. You pick up your pencils, someone helps you pick up your other materials. “ Thank-” you stop midway when your eyes are met with Taehyung. He hands you the sketchpads, you quickly put it in your bag, “ Thanks.”
“ No problem. You just got out of class?,” he asked intently looking at you.
His hair is pushed back by his headband, showing his forehead, he’s wearing his usual baggy grandpa clothes. It makes your heart flutter, but you quickly push the feeling away. “ Yeah, but I have to go back to pick up my two pieces,” you shrug. 
“ You need a hand?” He offers with a careful smile.
You contemplate, you don’t want to make two trips, “ If you’re not busy…”
He eagerly shakes his head. “ I’m not, let me help.” Taehyung follows you to the art room, and picks up the pieces easily despite it being large canvases. There’s silence when you are done putting it in your car. 
“ Thank you,” you give him a grateful smile. “ Do you need to ride home?”
Taehyung took his car to campus but he lies, he accepts your offer in hopes that you guys can talk things over. The radio is on low, and Taehyung is almost near his apartment, “ I lied I don’t need a ride,” he starts off and you let out a surprise laugh.
“ Why are you just telling me now?,” you are about two minutes from the destination. 
“ I wanted to talk to you about what happened to us-”
You sigh, not wanting to reopen bandage wounds on your heart, “ Taehyung, I’m over it-” 
His head turns to face you, “ I love you. I think I always loved you since we became friends. I was scared to tell you because it was something so new for me...I was selfish, I thought that everything we had was fine but I never took your feelings into consideration.” He’s breathing really hard because he finally confessed his heart out, something he vowed he’ll never do since he was a child. 
“ Why? Why now?,” you swallow hard, not looking at him but only the road. Scared that if you look into his eyes, you’ll get lost into them. 
“ It took me a while to come in terms with how I am feeling. Because love is messy right?,” his voice cracks.
The car is now parked in his driveway, “ Yeah, it is.” Turning to finally face him, he has little tears in his eyes that haven’t fallen. “ I still love you, Taehyung,” your hand touches his soft cheek, caressing it. Taehyung leans closer to you and you close your eyes expecting a kiss, instead he sobs against your neck. Feeling wet tears against your neck, you try to coddle him but the tight space in the car is not giving you any room to do so. “ Tae, why are you crying?,” you comb the back of his curls.
Taehyung pulls away giving you a tearful smile, “ Because for the first time in my life I know what love is.”
end.
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