#A WEEK AGO THEY WERE KISSING AND DAYDREAMING ABOUT BEING TOGETHER FOREVER
50. “Every time I think I’m close to finally figuring you out you end up surprising me.”
percabeth // here, have some engaged domestic fluff where they just bully each other
“What’s the worst thing you ever did at school? Like, on purpose. Stuff that happened because of monsters doesn't count.”
Annabeth hummed, thinking. “One time in eighth grade Thalia and I broke into every teacher and dean’s office and stole their middle desk drawer and replaced it with someone else’s.” She let a low whistle, “Monday morning was chaos. But they had it coming. They were all such assholes that past week.”
Percy blinked, uncomprehending. “Did you ever get caught?”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Who do you think you’re talking to right now? Hat or no hat, they would’ve never known it was me.”
Percy held his hands up in surrender, lips twitching in mild amusement, “Remind me never to cross you.”
“I thought you already figured that out a long time ago.”
“I did, I did,” he acquiesced. “But every time I think I’m close to finally figuring you out, you end up surprising me.”
“I’m an enigma,” she said simply, shrugging.
“I’m an enigma,” he mocked in a poor imitation of her voice.
She laughed, head thrown back, shoulders shaking. “Shut up.”
With that, he launched himself from his position on the couch, landing on her body with a thud. He reached for her stomach, fingers dancing across the skin where her shirt had ridden up, a devious little smirk growing on his face as he heard her tell-tale shriek of laughter. One would say her fatal flaw was pride, but if you asked Percy, it’d have to be her ticklishness. She’d denied it—a little too vehemently—when he’d first asked her if she was ticklish, which was enough to raise his suspicions and get him to try and tickle her the next time they cuddled. He was merciless but Annabeth thought it was quite easy to get him to stop with the threat of revoked kissing rights hanging over his head.
“Percy,” she giggled, digging her fingers into his side to make him squirm, in a weak attempt to stop his attack. “S-stopp.”
Her head was turned to the side, buried into the couch cushion, muffling her laughter. He took the opportunity to press sweet kisses to the column of her neck, behind her ear, along the line of her jaw—a sharp contrast to his ruthless assault on her stomach.
“I’m—I’m going to kill you,” she wheezed, pulling back her knee and hovering it above his crotch as a threat.
“Murdering the love of your life on your monthaversary? Romantic and a great way to get TV exposure. Maybe you’ll end up on Dateline if you’re lucky,” he teased, face resting in an easy grin.
Her mouth dropped open in indignation and he paused his attack in hesitation. “I am offended you think I’d get caught. Have you learned nothing? We both know no one would suspect me. And planning is my middle name.”
“Wow, planning is your middle name?” his eyes widened in faux-admiration, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s so badass.”
“More badass than the time you hung off a billboard in Times Square half naked in those boring blue boxers,” she sniped back, lightly kneeing him in his most sensitive spot and taking advantage of his momentary release on her body to flip them over and hold his arms above his head with one hand.
He let out a huff of surprise. “A little eager, don’t you think? I thought we could wait until tonight to use those new handcuffs but at this rate—”
He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath, chest rising and arching at the movement of her fingers at the small of his back. It had always remained sensitive, particularly to her touch, and he trusted her to not use her knowledge for evil but sometimes she wasn't immune to the appeal of payback.
“That’s not fair. I did not tell you about that for you to use it against me.”
“Says the man that literally tickled me for a minute straight.”
Her lips pulled up into a smug smile, that enchanting glint in her eye directed at him in a way that never failed to suck the breath out of his lungs, and he knew there was no such thing as losing with her. The idea that he’d be sprawled out on the living room couch, the love of his life grinning down at him, the smell of her favorite rose candle wafting through the air, all within the confines of their apartment—a place sacred to the love for each other that clung to their skin like an eternal armour—the idea would’ve been so pathetically laughable to his fifteen year-old self. But here he was, by all odds, his lifeline now a pleasant weight on his chest, and he knew that this was what he was built for. Loving and loving and loving until he couldn’t love anymore. She makes it so easy, he thought.
Annabeth shifted her weight atop his torso, leaning back at the faraway look on his face. “What?” she raised an eyebrow. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” his lips rested in a gentle smile, fingers slipping underneath the hem of her his loosely-fitting Fall Out Boy t-shirt to slide over the smooth planes of skin he had memorized long ago.
“You look like you’re daydreaming—” she paused for a moment, then laid her body flat against his, placing her head atop her overlapping hands that rested on his chest, “Or remembering.”
His grin widened as he pulled her closer to him in response, until it felt like there was no room for the smallest molecule of air to pass between their bodies. She turned her head and let it fall, her cheek pressing against the faint thrumming of his pulse.
“I just—I have rotten luck.”
She laughed—a beautiful sound that sent warmth curling through his body, from his cheeks to his toes—and pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his chin. “Understatement of the century, baby.”
He grinned wryly. “Maybe, in some ways. But no one can deny I’m one of the luckiest sons of bitches out there.”
“How do you figure?” she asked, eyes trained on the sleeve of his shirt as she fiddled with it. She knew. And he knew she knew.
“I’ve had the weight of the world on my shoulders,” he began, moving one hand up to brush through her curls, “in more ways than one. And you have, too. Often times worse than I did. But I have something to call home.”
“The apartment isn’t that gorgeous.”
“I wasn’t talking about the apartment.”
“Oh.” She went silent.
He relished in the dusting of pink across her cheeks. “I get to walk through that door and come home, everyday. I have an amazing mother, sister, step-dad, and—” he took a shaky breath, gently pushing the hair back from her face. “a best friend and partner rolled into one who just so happens to be the most important person in my life and the entire reason I’m laying here right now. It doesn’t get better than that.”
She’s quiet for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, a little surprised by his sudden touching words. He fills in the resounding silence, continuing, “And I guess I’ve just been thinking,” he finds her hands and clasps it firmly within his, “that people like us aren’t supposed to get lucky. So many of us didn’t. Jason, Beckendorf, Silena, Michael—” he swallows roughly. “Luke, in a way. And that’s not all. We’ve arguably been through the worst of it and made it out on the other side. Together.”
He pulls their intertwined hands to his mouth, peppering sweet kisses on each finger, lingering on her ring finger. “There’s a lot to be angry about, a lot that we can never forget, a lot that we can’t undo no matter how much we want to. But I was lost, and you were lost, and we found each other. And the best part is we got to stay.” He tried his best to blink back the water that blurred his vision. “It’s so hard to wrap my head around sometimes, to believe all of this isn’t just a foolishly hopeful daydream—a figment of my imagination. But it’s real. It’s really real, and I’m forever indebted to the universe for that. I know I should’ve gotten used to it after all this time, but I haven’t.”
She let that sink in for a moment, breathing him in—his words, his scent, the love emanating from his touch. “Fuck, you can’t just do that,” she whispered, voice cracking, as she turned her head away.
“Do what, baby?” he asked gently, hand reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear and cup her jaw so that she face him.
“That! Be the most romantic guy on the planet out of nowhere. You gotta give me time to prepare for these things.”
“Sorry,” he apologized in a matter anyone would’ve thought was sincere if not for the little quirk of his lips. “I’ll be sure to email you my calendar of big romantic gestures before the next time.”
“Anything for you. So you still wanna risk ending up on Dateline?”
“Shut up,” she weakly laughed, burying her damp face into the crook of his neck. “That little speech definitely rivaled your proposal, by the way. Your vows have a lot to live up to.”
“Oh, man,” he sighed, head plopping back onto the arm of the cushion. “I think I’ve used all my material.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“Sounds like a you problem,” he mimicked again, blowing a raspberry into the skin of her neck he could reach.
“Percy!” she pushed him away, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe away the saliva he’d so maturely left at her throat. “That’s it, we’re getting a divorce.”
“We’re not even married.”
“You know what I mean,” she said, shoving his chest. “We just won’t get married, then.”
“That big rock on your finger says otherwise.”
“I am keeping the ring, it’s prettier than you.”
“Is this the treatment I get for sweeping you off your feet on a Tuesday evening?”
“All you’ve done is tickle and insult me.”
“Wow, you have really selective memory,” he responded, squinting his eyes in scrutiny.
“I’m known for my memory, actually.”
“Is that why you couldn’t remember the last line of that prophecy that one summer?”
“Shut up, I just chose not to tell you.”
“Because you were in love with me,” he teased, fingers toying with a loose curl hanging in his line of vision.
“A very regrettable decision it seems,” she muttered, drily.
“You’re being awfully mean today.” A pause. “It’s hot.”
She rolled her eyes. “You keep talking and I will actually take this ring off.”
“We both know you’re all talk.”
“Yeah?” she got up off him and slipped her ring off. “What if I just flush it down the toilet?”
“It would end up somewhere in the sea and I’d just find it and put it on your finger again.”
Annabeth’s eyebrows scrunched toegther in that way he loved as she pondered, twisting the ring between her fingers. “Could you actually?”
Percy quickly got up and plucked the ring from her hand and placed it back on her finger, pressing a kiss to it. “Baby, we are absolutely not trying that.”
“You must not be confident in your abilities then.”
“Don’t goad me,” he warned, reaching his arms out as if to tickle her again.
“But it’s fun,” she said innocently, closing the distance between them, and the press of her lips against his momentarily vanquished any train of thought running through his mind. That’s one thing that hadn’t changed after six years together.
“I’m glad you get off on torturing me,” he pulled away after a minute and whispered against her mouth. Her eyes twinkled mirth and were somehow even more mesmerizing up close.
“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” She captured his resounding laugh with her mouth and he decided he wanted her to make fun of him every night.
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Personal Punching Bag - Gojo x Reader
Word Count: 1,627
Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sweaty!Gojo, Oral, Teacher Student relationship, slight daddy kink, aftercare, Sexual tension whew
Summary: Gojo meets you in the gym for a surprise session, except this one ends a bit differently ;)
A/N: This is part two, part one is on my masterlist! This is my first time writing smut so I hope you enjoy!
My requests are open!
It'd been a week since you'd seen Gojo outside of class. He'd made no mention of your gym session since it happened or any indication that he'd meant to follow up on his empty suggestion of "We should do this again sometime"
Admittedly it'd left you deflated. You'd found yourself distracted in class, daydreaming of his eyes under the blindfold and how they looked even prettier than the blue sky on a clear day. Instead of focusing on your studies, you were zoning out and your time spent in the gym after classes just left you frustrated and yearning for more.
You knew deep down you liked more than just his eyes, Gojo had given you more than enough to think of at night when you were alone in your dorm. The image of him shirtless and glistening in sweat permanently ingrained in your mind. Hormonal schoolgirl fantasies running wild.
It was so unlike you, you hadn't checked but you could tell your grades were slipping and your reflexes weren't as sharp as they used to be. In the event that you were sent on a mission, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold your own or if you'd have to rely on Yuji and Megumi for your safety. The thought of being defenseless against curses frustrated you. You were supposed to be better than that and you felt like you were letting yourself and others down.
Today you walked to the gym by yourself, you'd grown distant to your friends lately. Your head too far up in the clouds to handle any conversation. You opened the door, a glimmer of hope in your eyes before it inevitably faded.
He wasn't there. Again.
With a sigh you took off your shoes, stepping onto the plush mat, and approaching your usual punching bag. The bright red canvas seemed to taunt you as you got into the stance that your sensei taught you not long ago.
You swung and hit the bag weakly, the dull thud reaching your ears and making you groan in annoyance. Abandoning your stance you let hell rain down on the punching bag. Swing after swing battered the equipment.
"You know I'm probably a better sparring partner than that bag."
His voice made your heart sing, your fist pausing mid-air when you heard it. Shaking your head you brushed the stupid feeling off. Internally scolding yourself. You don't have time for this.
"Why are you here, Sensei." You were clearly annoyed, your tone laced with irritation.
Gojo simply didn't care, "I thought we discussed that. Calling me Sensei outside of class." He was teasing, you could tell but you were tired. Your muscles beginning to ache from your pitiful workout.
"Fine," You spit. "What are you doing here, Gojo."
"You're clearly frustrated," He mused "Why don't you take it out on me" Without a second thought you turned and swung at him. Fist flying faster than he'd anticipated. Even though it caught him off guard at first, he recovered quickly and caught your fist, holding it in his own.
For a moment you both stilled, it was the first time you'd made eye contact in a while. His blindfold was already removed and you momentarily felt lost. With a smirk, he snapped you out of your daze by pulling you forward by your hand.
Tripping over your own feet you fell into his chest with a soft thud. He felt warm and smelled like honey and freshly washed laundry. You felt a laugh rumble through him as he spoke, "Don't get too comfortable, we haven't even begun."
Before you had a chance to question what he'd meant he used his other hand to tilt your head up to kiss you. It started off slow at first, lips melting together as it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You'd wanted this so badly, but you'd also wanted more.
You became greedy, slipping your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, and pulling him closer. Gojo bent down to respond to your advances, tearing himself away from you for a moment to trail his lips down your neck.
He began sucking and biting lightly with his mouth, trailing lower as you pressed up against him. The grey sweatpants he wore to the gym left little to the imagination but what you felt against you was no dream.
You reached down to his bulge, clearly growing bigger the farther the two of you went. Your breathing grew heavy as you palmed him through his sweats. "S-Sensei"
"No." He growled out between sloppy kisses, his hands moving to your breasts. "Say my name, (y/n). Say it."
"Gojo" You moaned as his inquisitive fingers slipped under your bra and began to play with your nipples, the action sending small shocks to your core.
"I- I wanna make you feel good, Gojo." You whispered in between small pants as his hands continued to shamelessly roam your body. Your workout had already left you feeling sweaty but his actions were making your blood pressure rise. His hands relented and you took it as you greenlight.
Sinking down to your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes becoming clouded with lust. In one swift motion, you pulled down his sweats. To your surprise he'd gone commando, the soft look of shock on your face made him smirk. His blue eyes darkening as he watched his cock spring forward towards your beautiful face.
He'd never have admitted it but he'd imagined this very moment multiple times over the past week, hands moving over his own length late at night with your name on his lips.
Slowly you took him in your hand, slowly pumping him as you wet your lips. Your tongue flicked out towards his tip, the smallest of touches made Gojo moan softly, spurring you on. You wrapped your tongue around him. Slowly beginning to inch your way down his impressive length.
His hands found their way into your hair, petting you softly as you worked and keeping it out of your face. Gojo looked down on you with adoration, stroking your cheek softly as held back a moan.
"You're doing so well, baby." He praised, "Making your daddy, feel so good."
The name made your eyes widen and your thighs clench, you looked up at him as you took him all into your mouth. Your hand gripping his leg for stability.
You felt drool escape your mouth as you bobbed your head, listening to breath hitch as you looked up into his eyes. You moaned around him, feeling yourself growing even wetter.
Gojo tapped your cheek lightly, prompting you to stop your movements. You released him with a pop, his cock even harder than before as he pulls you up off the floor. "I want to be inside you, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me."
You moaned softly at the idea, quickly turning into a mess. He picked you up by your waist, wrapping your legs around him. As he walked you could feel him rubbing against your clothed heat, bringing you to the wall. He set you down for a moment, reaching down to drag down your yoga pants and squeezing your ass before lifting you again.
Hoisting you up he buried his face in your neck, your hair sticking to your skin with sweat. You felt like your nerves were on fire. Every little ministration going straight to your bundle of nerves that begged to be touched. Gojo started kissing your neck as his thumb moved your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him.
His fingers toyed with your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before slowly circling the bud. He could feel you tense up under him, your thighs tightening around his waist as you involuntarily pulled him closer, his cock rubbing against you.
Slowly he entered you with a hiss. Your warmth enveloping him as he started to thrust at a brutal pace. You were both so pent up, the thought of release taking over as you began rutting against each other. Gojo whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how tight you are and how good you've been for daddy as you moan uncontrollably.
It felt as though as much time had passed but simultaneously not enough. You wanted to be lost in him forever.
You could feel him hitting against your cervix, you felt so full, so fulfilled after yearning for a week of your dreamy-eyed Sensei.
You could scream it from the rooftops until your lungs ached. So you did, the sound filling the gym and no doubt the surrounding hallways, but you didn't care. The feeling of him rutting against you and setting your skin ablaze took away all reason, your chants only making him go deeper and faster. His finger found his way back to your clit as you continued to edge closer to your end. Beginning to lightly shake from the exhaustion and pleasure.
"Let go, (y/n). Come around my cock."
His words set you over the edge, your body tensing again as you moaned his name lewdly. All you could think about was how good you felt stretched around him.
Gojo came shortly after finishing inside you and riding out your highs. Slowly he slipped out of you, his hair covering his face as he pushed yours to the side, giving your forehead a kiss. Carefully he lowered you to the ground, letting you rest as he walked to his gym bag that you'd long forgotten and grabbed a small towel. Carefully he cleaned you up then sat back down beside you.
Wrapping his arm around you he smiled softly "I'll be your personal punching bag anytime."
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Home (Jeremiah X Reader)
First multi-chapter fic I’ve ever written, so critics please be gentle, but feedback is much appreciated. This chapter is just about introducing the reader to the story, but I do have more chapters ready to go out. Lemme know if you want them ☺️
Slow burn and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse
Find Pt.2 here
Reader is an orphan about to turn 18 when a wealthy man visits the orphanage looking for an older girl. She is put up as a possible option and she isn’t happy about it.
Growing up in the orphanage was horrible. They treated us all like workhorses from the moment we arrived. They would demand so much from us from such an early age and when we couldn’t do it, we would get beaten or starved or have to spend the night in the basement with the rats. If not all three. And then they wondered why we didn’t have the strength for all the hard labour they forced upon us.
They didn’t care about us one bit. They used to send us to clean rich people's houses to make money off us. I remember one girl got sent out and came back covered in bruises. She tried to tell them she didn’t want to go back, that the guy was a creep and he touched her. They still sent her and one day she just disappeared. We all knew what happened, but we didn’t dare say anything. We were the weak ones and in Gotham, nobody cares about the weak ones.
I remember praying every night for some nice couple to come and save me. Adopt me. But year after year passed and I learned to abandon those dreams. I’d read in the paper about some guy called Jerome Valeska. He’d murdered his mom. I also saw him when I’d been sent out on maid duty, on a client's TV when they were watching the news. He seemed unhinged, like a rabid dog, talking into the camera about sanity and how we were all just prisoners and cogs. He said was the leader of a gang called the Maniax. We’d all heard of them at the orphanage and what they’d done. I decided if that was what family could do to you, then maybe it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t like anyone was coming for me anyway.
Instead, I focused on counting the days to my 18th birthday. They kicked you out once you turned 18, but it was a time everyone in the orphanage looked forward to. I remember how excited I was when the time crawled ever closer. It was just a few weeks, but time seemed to slow down as they were passing. It was painful.
I had everything I was going to do planned out in my head. First, I was going to punch the head master square in the nose and tell him just how much I hated him. Then I was going to walk my ass straight to the GCPD and let them know everything. It was my chance get that place shut down forever. To help the other kids and get them sent somewhere decent. I would be stood out front watching the day it closed. Watching with the biggest, tooth baring smile on my face.
I still hate that I never got the chance.
My 18th was a few weeks away and I could taste my freedom. Everyone was hyping me up for it and some of the younger ones were telling me how much they were going to miss me and trying to spend as much time with me as they could. There were a few sour apples because they were jealous, but I understood and I would squeeze them all so tightly before I left.
“Stop daydreaming and get back to the floor!” A harsh voice came and I was brought back to reality with a smack to the back of my head.
It was the head master's assistant, Mr Grimes. A name that suited him well. He was stalking the halls again, looking for the daydreamers like me so he could tear them down. I was supposed to be scrubbing the wooden floorboards, but I let my mind run away with me for a minute. I should’ve known better by then.
He got halfway down the hallway, trapsing dirt over where I’d just cleaned, when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.
“You’re up tomorrow, by the way.” He said, in that matter-of-fact tone that made everyone despise him that extra bit more.
“What?” I must’ve heard him wrong.
“You’re up. Some rich guy’s coming in looking for an older girl. That means you.”
“I can’t be. I’m getting out next month.”
“It’s right here in black and white. And you know I don’t make mistakes.” He gestured to the folder under his arm that had the details for tomorrow in it and apparently my name was listed inside.
I stopped to let the wheels in my head turn and try and figure this out. Being up meant that you were going to be presented for possible adoption. I couldn’t be... could I? Not now I was this close? Mr Grimes turned to leave, but turned back once more.
“By the way, says here this guy's 26. So, he’s probably not looking for a daughter. And if he’s coming here instead of some maid agency... Well, I'll let you think about that.”
Mr Grimes smiled one of the slimiest smiles I’d ever seen before walking away. I knew what he meant and I also knew that nobody here cared. I threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, causing a splash. I was so angry. Angry that my plans could be potentially ruined, that I could be adopted by some rich guy with nefarious intentions, angry that they would let that happen to any of the girls here.
I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes, but quickly told myself off for it. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry for this place any longer years ago. It felt like giving it power or losing to it and I was not going to give this dump the satisfaction. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Knowing what tomorrow was going to bring sat on my shoulders like two boulders. I was either going to see one of my sisters be taken away to god knows what, or be taken myself. I hadn’t told anybody about it. I didn’t want anybody else feeling this dread.
Morning came. The wakeup call was 7am sharp. Everyone stirred and groaned, but they knew they’d regret it if they didn’t get up with the bell. Now began the battle for the showers. First come, first serve for the hot water. If you were too slow you had to shower in water like ice. However, I wasn’t in the mood to battle it out for hot water. I would feel terrible if I got some and the girl that got adopted today didn’t, so I let them all have war without me. I was used to the cold water anyway.
Downstairs at breakfast I couldn’t eat. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach and if I ate anything I would just throw it back up. The food was disgusting anyway. I sat there with a glass of water deep in thought until a bell rang that caught all of our attention. The only time that bell rang was when the head master was going to be joining us for breakfast, which was rare. But in he came and sat at the front in front of all of us, Mr Grimes standing at his side like a loyal dog. I knew why he was here. He was going to break the news.
“Good morning children.” He said in his dull, boring voice, looking over the room as if scanning it.
“Good morning, head master.” Everyone replied in unison. We knew the drill.
“I have an exciting announcement.”
Everyone was gripped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.
“Now, this does only concern the girls. Boys, perhaps next time.”
A few whispers could be heard as everyone looked around at each other.
“There will be a man coming in later. A wealthy man. He is going to take one of you home.”
Smiles could be seen on my sisters faces and they continued to whisper to each other curiously.
“Unfortunately, not all of you are candidates. Mr Grimes has a list of everyone that is going to be presented. When he calls your name, you are to go back upstairs and change into your display clothes. We must make a good impression if we are to find homes, girls.”
Mr Grimes opened the folder he had with him yesterday and pulled out a piece of paper. All of my sisters were on the edges of their seats, biting their lips, fingers crossed. All of them hoping today could be the day. I was hoping for the exact opposite.
“Shelby... Lisa... Mary... Joanne... Bethany.... And...” Then he called my name. The girls smiles reached ear to ear and they giggled to themselves as they stood up. We were all the oldest girls, 17 or few months away.
“Congratulations, girls. Today could be the start of a new life... for one of you.” The headmaster also rose from his seat and he left the room leaving Mr Grimes to finish.
“You girls, upstairs and make yourselves look half human. The rest of you, better luck next time.”
Back in our dorm all the girls were laughing and smiling. They were all so happy, getting their presentation clothes ready. They were all the same. The outfit we had to wear if we were up. A black skirt that reached just below the knees with a black, quarter sleeve shirt with a white collar. Our only pair of good, clean white socks and black plimsoles. We were all identical in these outfits, except for different things we would do with our hair. Some would do braids, some pony tails or buns. The lucky ones managed to scrounge up some cute clips and bows. It was all very exciting for everyone. Everyone, but me.
“I can’t believe it! One of us is getting out of this soggy shack!” Laughed Shelby.
“I know! I knew keeping that lucky penny was worth it!” Mary giggled as she pulled a penny out of her shoe and kissed it.
“Whoever it is that goes, we’ll still always be sisters, right?” Joanne piped up. She had always had a nervous disposition.
The girls all stopped. They were so giddy with the news that they forgot today was also goodbye for one of us. The sudden sadness in the air was palpable. I could see tears start to gather in their eyes and my heart broke.
“Stop it. Stop it all of you. No matter what happens today, we will all always be sisters. We’ve been through so much together that even if we are scattered to all corners of the globe, we’ll still all be sisters. Nothing can change that. Ever.” I forced, half scolding them. We huddled together and began saying how much we loved each other, going over memories we had. We stayed like that until the bell rang, letting us know we only had a little time left before the line-up.
We stood lined up by the front door. I’d never liked this bit. It felt like we were on display in a shop window. Like we were on sale.
“Is this the best you could do? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t just walk away.” Mr Grimes scoffed as he looked us up and down. He was the one who was going to be introducing us. The head master stayed in his office, he only dealt with the paperwork of it.
“And don’t say anything, unless he talks to you. Nobody buys a cow for its personality.”
We heard a car pull up outside and the nerves kicked in.
“Sounds like he’s here. Stand up straight, girls. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”
Then there it was. The sound I’d been dreading since yesterday afternoon.
Knock, knock, knock...
“Let the sale commence.”
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Coffee and Cigarettes
A Gerry Keay and Agnes Montague fic ft: platonic queer friendships and emotional support
Rated T (CW from mild internalized homophobia)
Read on ao3
She was already there when Gerry turned the corner, perched on a ledge that borders the rowhouse next door to their coffee shop, legs crossed at the ankles and swinging impatiently like a little kid.
“You know, you’re pushing 60,” he called out, grinning. “Surprised you haven’t learned some patience in your old age.”
She turned her beautiful face towards him, long auburn hair shining in the sunlight, and stuck out her tongue. Gerry hoisted himself up next to her and offered her a cigarette, lighting them both.
“So your girlfriend tried to kill me on Friday,” Gerry offered. He always wants to get Agnes to ask “which one?” and she never will—one of the many games he plays that he knows he’ll never win. She just blew out a stream of smoke and waited.
Gerry sighed. “It was Jude.”
“Doesn’t seem like it quite took,” Agnes commented, looking him over. Aside from some singed hair, she’s right.
“Hasn’t so far,” Gerry agreed.
Agnes leaned against him, threading her arm through his and nestling her head into his shoulder. He felt her warm exhales against his neck as they sat in silence, smoking and thinking.
It’s hard not to feel protective of Agnes, for all that she’s older than his mother and basically a god. It doesn’t help that she looks like a lost teenager, in her little mod dresses and Mary Janes, as if fashion stopped moving when she stopped aging. Add to that the fact that she’ll suddenly open her mouth and say the saddest thing you’ve ever heard. Like,
“You’re the only one who I can touch like a person. Everyone else, it’s just…” She trailed off, unwilling to put words to the reverent caresses of those who love her like a god and the agony she unwillingly inflicted on anyone foolish enough to see her as mortal. And then Gertrude. The complex tangle of pain and love that make up any interaction with Gertrude.
Gerry lifted his head from hers, untangling a strand of her flaming hair that was twisted in his eyebrow piercing, so he could look at her. She gave him her signature half-smile, a little upturn of the left side of her mouth that feels more like a tick than an expression.
“I know,” he said, trying to keep the pity that he knows he would despise, were he in her position, out of his voice. And he does know, without her having to say it.
He leaned his head back on hers and they sat together, quiet, watching the sun dip low over the treetops and houses, glowing orange streaks painting the sky.
Gerry was early this time. By a few hours. It had been an exhausting night that included a stab wound from a Slaughter avatar, 8 stitches in A&E, and a full hour of bullshit from Mary for losing the book. He had fallen into bed for a few hours of fitful sleep before his alarm went off to get him out of the house before Mary got up to continue her tirade.
And he’d had nowhere else to go. So here he was, at their coffee shop, curled up in the sofa against the far wall, on his third cup in two hours and picking listlessly at a scone.
Agnes practically waltzed in at 10:00 on the nose, wearing a daisy print dress and a straw hat, smelling of the sunshine that was making Gerry’s red-rimmed eyes water. She dropped her bag and plopped next to him, tipping her movie star sunglasses down her nose to look him over.
“You look terrible,” she said brightly, slinging one arm around his shoulders and pulling him in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Another one?”
He nodded grimly and her other hand plucked his empty mug from the table in front of them, sweeping away to the counter and taking her warmth and sunshine with her.
Gerry pushed through the haze of misery that surrounded him like the cloud of dirt that followed Pigpen around in the Peanuts cartoons to watch Agnes flirt with the barista. She was honest to god twirling her hair as the other woman blushed over their drinks. She had been watching a lot of romantic comedies lately, he knew, and it wasn’t unusual for her to get caught up in a sort of extended daydream that she enacted with the rest of the world.
What was unusual was for her to seem so happy doing it.
She left the bar with a little twirl, mug in each hand, and sat down next to Gerry again.
“D’you want to talk about it?” she asked, passing him the coffee that was sure to push him from awake to jittery.
Gerry thought about it, then said, “Nah. Tell me something nice instead.”
So she did.
In October, shivering on the sidewalk café tables that were just this side of too chilly, both of them were resolutely determined to enjoy the changing leaves and the scent of burning firewood wafting through the air. Instead of going inside, they pushed their chairs together and curled up under a blanket, watching busy Londonites bustle up and down the street.
“I don’t think I can kiss men,” Agnes said out of nowhere, sipping her coffee.
“You kiss me all the time.”
“No, properly, I mean.”
“I don’t want to kiss you “properly,” Agnes. You’re like a million years old. And it’d be weird.”
“No, I don’t mean you. I mean human men. I think I could probably kiss you, but yes, you’re right, it would be weird.”
“Leaving aside the fact that I am human men, okay, agreed, no kissing. You’re bringing it up why?”
Agnes shifted uneasily next to him and when she speaks, her voice is soft. “I didn’t want to hurt him. Jack, I mean. I didn’t really care about him, but I never wanted that. I just thought…” She hesitates.
“Thought what?” He leveled his voice to match hers, quiet and neutral.
“Well. It’s what girls do, right? Find a nice man who looks at them like they are special, but not that special, still attainable. Go on dates with him, kiss him, wait for him to love you like you’re a person. Isn’t that right?”
Her brow was furrowed and her dark eyes were wide, looking at Gerry as if the question wasn’t rhetorical, as if he held the answers of humanity, as if he was something more than a fuck-up twenty-year-old who barely knew what it meant to be a person himself. Wasn’t like he’d had a ton of examples.
“Some of them do,” he reminded her. This was not the first conversation they’d had where he’d tried to unpack her compulsory heteronormativity. You’d think as both a minor fear deity and a lesbian, she’d be above such things, but her bizarre life had ended up with her tying up wanting men as a part of being human. They were working on it.
Meanwhile, Agnes had warmed to her topic. “And when I let him kiss me, I thought, this is it, this will make me a real girl. Like a sort of fairy tale. And I know it was cruel, I mean, I “know” in the way that you know that 2 and 2 is 4 or that London is the capital of England. It didn’t feel cruel, to kiss him right there in front of Jude and everyone, or to kiss him because I wanted out.”
“I think that’s the most human thing there is.” Gerry commented. “Wanting out.”
She gave him a rare real smile, eyes warm and crinkling a bit.
“A human desire that’s enough to make one embrace the monstrous?” She raised their entwined hands to look pointedly at his tattoos, still healing and glowing red at her touch.
Gerry shrugged. “Whatever works.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. He nudged back.
“Okay, okay. Yes, it is. God, her face when I came home with them. You should have seen it.” He grinned at the memory, eyes gazing off into the distance, faking nostalgia for a couple weeks ago. Well, mostly faking. He had felt more powerful then than he had in ages.
“Lesser men would have dropped dead from it,” she offers, smile in her voice.
“Well, you know, us Keays are made of sterner stuff. As she never hesitates to remind me.”
“So did it work? Will it get you out?” Her tone was hard to place. Hopeful, but with a thread of fear. He turned to look at her.
“Nothing will get me out. I know that well enough.” He sighed. “All I can do is get a little more control, carve out something that’s just mine.”
“And the Eye lets you have that?”
“Not exactly. There’s a line I have to walk, to keep it at bay I mean.” Gerry shrugged again. “I can’t do it forever. Dunno that I’ll live long enough for it to matter either way. But it makes a difference right now.”
Agnes made a hum of disapproval and Gerry chuckled at it.
“Not even you will live forever, you know?”
“Perish the thought,” she said, making a face. “But you deserve more than that.”
“Maybe. Maybe we both do.”
This was enough, though. A warm blanket and a hot drink on a cool night with some who loved and understood you like you wanted to be loved and understood.
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febuary seventh (i’m seeing you)
Y/n and Spencer's relationship collide around a single day: the one where they first looked into each others eyes.
[Or, the all of the secret love letters they wrote during the beginning of their relationship]
Word count: (part one and two) 9.2k
Warnings: Language, dub-con (pool kiss scene is depicted as something that made Spencer uncomfy), vulgar language
Rating: Gen audiences
A/N: it was too long for tumblr, so I broke it into two parts!! Enjoy. Afab reader (it’s important, trust me)
Y/n looked up. They had just finished reading Spencer’s journal, the one dedicated to them. Spencer was kneeling and in his hand was a small box, the dainty ring he’d gotten years ago from his mom sat in between the white.
“Will you, Y/n L/n, do me the greatest pleasure by marrying me?” Spencer said with his anxiety showing through. Y/n gasped and threw themself at Spencer, wrapping their arms tight around him.
“Yes!” they cried, pulling away for Spencer to slide the ring on their finger. Then they took a deep breath. “Wait here.”
They disappeared into the two’s bedroom, rummaging through some things before running back with a black binder in hand. “It’s only fair if you see my unsent love letters, too.”
Spencer grasped it and flipped the binder open as Y/n guided him to the couch.
“They’re in order but aren’t as neatly organized as yours - I stopped writing before you did, though.”
For Spencer Reid, february 8th 2008 10:17 am
It was yesterday, a little more than 24 hours ago at 6 am that I was on a bus. Tiny, white and cramped, but now I realize it was actually a ferry to the love of my life. Even though at the moment all I cared about was when I was going to get to stretch my legs next, it still buzzed with excitement because I was about to be in your city even if you didn’t come to see me, that would’ve been enough. Being three feet away from you is more than enough. Being Two inches away from you is bliss. But your head on my shoulder is nirvana.
But then, only two hours after I had started my d&d campaign (the moon isles or something) there was an urge to look behind me. I tried to ignore it but I looked anyway.
What I saw scared me. Not because I’m afraid of you Spencer, but because I was scared of myself. I wanted to run to you and hug you, but I was too scared of scaring you away that I didn’t. My head seemed to spin as a second glance felt like a hundred years. Then a smile broke out on my face and I looked away. At first I didn’t think it could be you, I half screamed at the two people sitting on the left side of me. “Don’t look now, but my boyfriend’s here” of course they looked and Sophia told me that you were walking over here.
My insecurities flared up, but I remembered that you love me, even though I'm tired and probably covered in acne. She said you sat down behind me and I risked a quick glance, or two, or three times every two minutes. I tried to act as normal as possible even though if I looked back I would see the smile that lifted your cheeks when I looked at you. It was hard to focus on my campaign because it’s cliche, but I could sense you behind me and I was shaking. My friends were hyping me up to say Hi and I was trying to not scream. I ran to the bathroom, splashed water on my face and tried to calm down. I ran back, probably looking a little too excited. Ok, I was totally too excited.
My campaign finished up, you caught me staring at you a few times and my friends told me you were looking at me anytime we all made a loudish noise. After that, you followed us to lunch, well, followed me. You stood beside me and I said Hi, you replied the same. Then you grabbed your stuff and seemed to have left. I visibly deflated, my one chance to see you and I missed it. Then you came back, with a takeout bag in hand and some fries. I didn’t mention it already but you looked adorable in your glasses, from afar they look too big for you but then you see the big warm eyes behind them. Your cheekbones are so nice and everything about you is handsome, even more than I could have imagined. Photographs don’t do you justice. I hoped you had liked your dice, I got the red and black ones but I was scared you didn’t like yours.
You sat directly in front of me and my friends (Deriasia and Emma) immediately made fun of me and I almost died. At that moment. When you smiled and laughed. My friends gave us their blessing, which kinda fit because you were as tense as if you were meeting my parents.
I asked you to sit with me during the next campaign and you did (we snuck you in without paying). You played with the first character I ever played (Bida the high elf wizard). I was almost too distracted to really compete in all the things, instead focusing on you. You let me use your journal to doodle, a weird eye and a girl. Did you notice me fiddling with my hands? If I didn't keep them busy I probably would’ve put my hands in your hair or grab your hand. I remember you asking me if I needed a hug. I said yes and I think that hug is the most important one I've ever had. You laid on me and I didn’t care what my friends would say, all that matters was you.
My skin in two weeks will not remember the feel of your hair, my lips will not remember your cheek, but my brain forever will. At that moment, physical immortality is not as important as the immortalization of those touches.
They linger in my head, fuzzy and soft on my skin but they’re there.
I remember you telling me not to buy you anything (i still got you a resin skull magnet and dice) I remember flirting with you, i remember it all. I remember how you know all of Sappho’s poems and fragments, I want to remember everything about you. I know I won’t, you’re the one with the crazy good memory, after all.
I wish I would’ve looked in your eyes and told you that I saw you. I wish I would’ve pressed my lips to yours, but then again there’s always next time. And next time I will, even if it’s right in front of the whole world. Because I love you. I really fucking love you and everyone can suck it. I love you.
And I think that’s all that matters.
I have waited almost six months to hold you in my arms, and now I wait longer. I hate myself, I didn't hug you. I should’ve.
I didn’t tell you I love you enough, I didn’t kiss you properly. I wish I did.
Currently my arms ache to hold you, my eyes burn to see you and my lips yearn to touch yours. I can’t wait to indulge myself in thousands of kisses, I hope they are as sweet as your skin. Kinda licked my lips after kissing your nose, cheek, and right under your neck. You taste sweet, I think I'm addicted.
I still feel the ghosts of your touch on my skin, I love it. I love you. I want to have your actual skin under my fingertips, to hold you when you wake up from a bad dream, to dance with you under the stars. Decide what song is ours and argue over how cheesy it is. Cry on the day we say our vows, cry at the birth of our first child, cry when they go to school, cry when they grow up, cry when I realize that we did it. I can’t wait to have life with you.
If there’s such a thing as soulmates then the word was made to describe us.
I love you.
I fell asleep, I woke up right before you texted me. I dreamt about you, in my mind I fell asleep with you in my arms. In my mind I am sitting in a cafe, right across from you drinking tea.
I prefer it to real life, by about an infinite percent. My friend came in and basically yelled at me to let him use my box, I told him to fuck off. I know I won’t be able to fall back asleep but I do hope to continue my dream tonight. Currently im trying to believe that you think i’m “stunning” it’s starting to work it’s way into my mind that i’m not ugly.
Spencer, I love you.
You have such an effect on me, the first week we were together you weaseled your way into my mind. You sprouted a tree that is still a sapling but has rooted to the core of my mind, slipping into my heart and spreading through my limbs. You’re almost a drug (the only one I approve of).
You’re poison, searing through my veins and warning my skin. But you’re not toxic, you’re candy, sugary sweet, something tangible that almost floats in and out of existence.
If you are a God, I am your most loyal patron.
Time is meaningless but it goes so fast, only eight minutes left to talk then my day ends. So many more ‘I love you’s I could say.
But time will not permit our love, that’s fine, I’ll wait it out till the end.
You’re worth it.
You always deny that you’re adorable, and that’s so adorable.
It’s frustrating sometimes because you’re so beautiful you deserve to know it. But oh well, i’ll just have to prove you are.
I told you I’d rather go on a date with you first before doing anything sexual. you also deserve to know your love is all I need, not your body (that’s just a perk)
You’re hot, sue me!
In the shower, I have most of my daydreams. Ranging from cotton candy clouds to a place where my parents accept me. However, the best daydream i’ve ever had is about a boy. A boy with chocolate brown eyes and a beautiful smile. Ding Ding Ding, his name is Spencer.
My dream is about his last name, well it involves it. I imagine myself talking to him while I say an important speech, in front of a crowd of people. I’m talking about our relationship, about how much I love you, and how much I can’t wait for the next chapter of our life to start. I always tear up when everyone is quiet at the end, and then you say what you have to say. It’s fuzzy and I don’t remember any of it (kinda want you to make your own in the future) but after you say it. It's time.
You say two words, so low only I and the person standing next to us can hear, “I do”
That’s the best day dream I’ve ever had, because I know it won’t be just a dream (I hope)
The best part of my day is looking at any photos from you: they always make me smile. Even when my day has been utterly terrible, your bright eyes are always a light in the dark.
I often don’t even need to think about you to have your smile in my mind, it’s just there, like a constant bright sunshiny beam. A single thought about you makes my day, a single touch my year, remembering that you’re mine makes my life a whole much better.
You, make living better.
I live for you, you’re all I ever want to have.
Je suis fou amoureux de toi.
So uh, you might have noticed but I don’t know how to talk to people, let alone talk to you.
It’s not that I have nothing to say, I have too much to say. It all bubbles in my mind and makes me jump on topic every three seconds. But when it comes to you, I'm stuck on which way to tell you I love you.
So, how about all of them?
I don’t need to focus on a single part of your face to know that it’s beautiful, but I do. All the parts work in harmony, like a choir. But individually they are still beautiful. I love every single inch of your face, individually and together.
I love you for your personality, I fell in love with a genius who is so much more than his memory or intelligence. Then I fell in love with a sweet boy who whined when I said self deprecating things. When we first met, I instantly fell in love again, with a shy boy who would look up at me from under his lashes.
Fuck, my mind is racing too much to distinguish anymore. But, I hoped I showed you.
That, I love you now, and forever will.
Happy Valentine’s day, my love.
Happy anniversary, god I can’t believe it’s been five months already. It seems just yesterday I was crying over whether or not I should continue liking you (i had told myself I wasn’t good enough for you).
Well, turns out I was wrong. I’m just enough for you. It doesn’t matter to me anymore if you’ll ever leave me, well, it does, `but there’s something more important, you being loved and being happy is what matters. And I can’t wait to give you what matters.
I love you babe! I’ll try to write more to show it.
My mind is a cavern of echoes, words (well a name) revertibrating in my skull.
The things used to be about art, school, anything slightly important.
But now, it’s filled with the most important person in my life. Analyzing the color of his hair (a warm brown), thinking of his eyes, thinking of his name and my name with a change; Spencer Reid (and sometimes Y/n Reid) has taken over my mind and burrowed into my soul.
I think if the red string of fate was real then we’d have been connected when we first met. Fuck, we are connected.
If we weren’t why would I have fallen in love with you? It was fate that I sent a letter to a wrong address, fate that I stumbled upon the boy that would change my life for the better.
Our souls are connected, being pulled because of the distance though, and I can’t wait to be with you. Not two halves of a whole, but two souls that fit like a puzzle piece.
I love you, and you love me. Even though I'm a coward.
When we have a daughter, her name should be Rhiannon. We will both dote on her like the goddess she is. Just a thought :>
You were in my house today. I think I'm dying, I'm wearing your sweater. It smells like you. I think you left it behind on purpose.
You smell really nice. It’s not like a cologne or anything, but it's nice. You’re nice
You kissed me. You’re a really good kisser. You should do it again and again and again.
I got the news yesterday, my transfer went in, I'm sending my letter to you tomorrow. I know you’re in my city but I'd rather it be like this.
I don’t think i'm going to write any more, don’t think that means i don’t love you!!
I am going to hold you for hours, I promise, I love you.
Spencer finished reading and smiled up at his new fiance. “We were such dorks! It's crazy how similar we thought.”
Y/n nodded and looked down at their ring. “We were dorks in love! Um, so how do you feel about the name Rhiannon?”
“It’s pretty, but I don’t think we need to be worrying about baby names - we need to figure out how to tell my team we’re engaged.” Spencer quipped, wrapping his arms around Y/n before it hit him.
Y/n’s morning sickness, the weird secretive doctors appointment, and what they had just said. “No!” he whispers, a smile growing on his face, “I’m gonna be a dad?”
They nod and bury their head into Spencer’s chest. Spencer can’t stop the smile that beams across his face. He grabs Y/n and spins them around in his arms, “This is the best news!!”
He pressed a deep kiss to Y/n’s lips, then went onto his knees to wrap his arms around Y/n. “Jason Derek Reid if it’s a boy and Rhiannon Penelope Reid if it’s a girl.”
Y/n smiles and nods, “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Let’s be on the same page, forever from now on, okay?”
They nodded, Spencer’s hands finding place on their back as he pressed his lips right below Y/n’s navel. Y/n’s hand’s dug into his hair: “Forever.”
Years later the two do indeed wake up on a Saturday morning to impatient kids who demand to be made pancakes. Sometimes after a hard case they do dance at three am in their underwear. Sometimes they do a lot of things in their underwear. They’re together in every way imaginable.
And to them? It’s the most important thing that could ever be possible.
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Copyright @ 2021 haxansinnofecstasy.
All rights reserved.
She was facing the inevitable doom that was her life at this point. How could life be so cruel? Okay, she was being dramatic. It was only high school. But the first week was borderline crazy. The first few days were just a review, a syllabus of what was to be expected in class. Jumpstart day three, Diva was already swamped with assignments ranging from essays to book work.
Why couldn’t she fast forward a month’s worth instead? Diva practically slumped from exhaustion, running her hands through her hair.
“Hopefully I’ll have everything done by the weekend.” She hitched her backpack on her shoulder, the combined weight of textbooks feeling like cinder blocks. Forever grateful that the day sped on by, Diva tossed her bag into the backseat of her car. Slamming the driver’s side, she raided for her cellphone. Pressing the power button on, she strapped herself in, started her vehicle but didn’t drive off right away.
She was due for work soon with plenty of time to spare. After the panic attack from last week, Diva had become wary of her surroundings. A few jump scares here and there, but that wave of unease hadn’t bugged her. Whoever or whatever brought it on had left just as fast it came.
Diva prayed it was over. She did not want to go through another panic attack like that. She still had not seen a doctor against the wishes of the older kind lady who aided her.
Speeding off, Diva couldn’t wait to walk into work. Nothing like the smell of steak and fries to get a smile on everyone’s faces. The old man who hired her took an instant liking to Diva. She got the position as waitress right on the spot after a former employee left for better opportunities. Diva hated the idea of the old guy running a restaurant by himself.
One of the most popular steak houses in Osaka, the joint was family owned, being in the business for several generations. The buffet could house many customers who left the food place with a huge grin and pants popping at the seams from a well deserved feast.
Maneuvering into the parking space reserved for employees, Diva parked, then palmed for her cellphone. Swiping the screen she saw a few text messages from her father. A smile curved her lips. She missed him so much.
I love you, be safe.
Call me when you can so I can know what’s going on. I’m sorry if you haven’t been able to reach me.
To hear her father’s voice again. Diva leaned back in her seat, a warm tinge coloring her cheeks. Diva sent her father back a response.
I love you too, dad. Call you when I’m not busy. Hug my dork brothers for me and kiss mom.
Tucking her phone into her pocket, Diva leaped out of her car, practically skipping into the restaurant with the outmost giddiness of a child eating cotton candy for the first time. She was that thrilled to work.
Smoked meat, entered her nostrils like the sweetest nectar in existence.
Halting in her tracks, Diva beamed at her boss.
“Hey Mr. Soto. Miss me?” She teased, hands on her hips.
“Of course! You’re early today, any reason why?” Mr. Soto lumbered from behind the counter, his weight supported by a cane. An injury from years ago left him with a bum leg. Diva didn’t prod into what caused it, not wanting to be nosy or bring up unpleasant memories. Mr. Soto stood a proud six-foot-three, maybe a good half inch. A huge older man, though not overly muscled. He was just in tip top shape for a man in his mid-to-late fifties.
Mr. Soto ruffled his salt and pepper hair, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Diva rolled her eyes.
“Miserable. I feel like quitting but my parents would make me rue the day.” She drawled out as though it pained her to say it. No doubt they’d kill her if she as so much entertained the idea.
“You got a good head on your shoulders Diva. Don’t give up just yet.”
“Oh. believe me. I won’t. There are some subjects I actually enjoy. Enough about me, how’s your family?”
Soto’s eyes twinkled.
“They’re all good. Never better. Just talked to my boy before you dropped by and my daughter is keeping in touch. My wife is doing well, she appreciates the take care package you brought her.”
Mrs. Soto had been sick. It had gotten a little bad, so she had to go to the hospital. Diva beamed that she was regaining her strength.
“I better get changed!” Diva exclaimed, darting towards the restrooms.
“Gonna be a productive one.” Other workers were coming in, she could hear them. Diva tied her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck, swiping at a few strands of hair from her forehead.
Twisting in the opposite direction, Diva didn’t make it too far when a ringing pierced her ears. Not the usual kind of ringing one would get as though someone were talking about them, nor if one caught the tune of bells. This one was different.
Diva couldn’t describe it as her hands covered her ears. It still didn’t help to muffle the sharp ringing. Then, it began to vibrate before following into a hum. Like someone was adjusting frequencies.
“Stop it,” Diva bit out to no one.
Diva nearly backed into the bathroom wall, quickly regaining her composure she swiveled around as though there were someone else in the rest area with her. She was the only occupant.
“Who are you?” Diva demanded, keeping her voice below a whisper. Okay, she was going crazy.
“Please...not again. I won’t go through that again.”
Diva winced, touching her face. Something splintered. Glass. The mirror was spider webbed much to her dismay. Diva approached the reflective surface, dare not touching the ruined mirror. Reaching to cup her face she quickly drew it back at the hint of moisture. Rubbing her fingers together they came back colored crimson.
Leaning in for closer examination, above Diva’s ear was a scarlet line. A few beads of blood welled the surface threatening to spill. She hadn’t even felt that. How did it happen? Diva bit her bottom lip, blinking back a sheen of tears. Quickly she patched herself up with a Band-Aid in her pocket.
Her cut throbbed, only intensifying after her exit from the bathroom. Diva distracted herself with writing down orders, tray carrying, anything to block out the echo of the man’s voice.
Man. Not a boy. I’ve heard that voice before...but...no. It could be the voice of anyone guy. I can’t just assume I know the voice if I...
Was it possible the stranger from a week prior was...
“Snap out of it Diva or you’ll drive yourself into the madhouse. Focus. Breathe.” She berated herself, hustling to tables, greeting them, smiling, yet the cut near her ear kept throbbing. At least the humming inside of her head stopped, as well as the unknown disembodied voice of a mysterious male.
A group of rowdy boys caught her eye. They were throwing bits of food and exchanging insults. Diva rolled her eyes, but couldn’t keep a hint of a smile on her face. Immature they were, yet they were carefree. She recognized a few from school. With just her luck those boys were her intended table.
“You guys having fun yet?” She chirped. She dodged a piece of paper from one of them.
“Plenty now that you’re here.” One of the young men winked at her.
“Is that a fact?” She massaged her Band-Aid area fervently. No more throbbing. Good.
“Hey, if you’re interested, there’s a party going on tonight. Everyone is going.”
“Yeah,” one of his buddies chimed in, adjusting his hat. He propped his elbows on the table. His eyes scanned Diva from head to toe, his eyes sparkling with interest. Too bad it was one-sided.
Diva waved a dismissive hand.
“I was never the party girl type, boys. I’d bore you all. It’s not like I’d have the time to go to a party anyway.”
“Are you sure,” he egged on.
“I have to study.” Diva’s tone was almost neutral. She didn’t have the luxury of just dropping everything to drink, smoke, and be reckless for the hell of it. Her leisure time didn’t consist of the usual teenage no regrets mingled with a huge dose of stupidity. Nothing wrong with kicking it back with friends, Diva had no goals of getting high or sleep with a random only to wake up with a hangover from hell.
She couldn’t remember the last time she was just allowed to be free in the moment.
“You might change your mind. It’s gonna be at my place, lots of free food and drink.”
She was a little familiar with his home. She’d been there one time to tutor, but he hadn’t been interested in keeping his head in the books as he was with her.
Diva smiled softly. Would it hurt to go? All that waited for her at home were a pile of laundry, homework, chores, and afterwards she’d go to bed. She didn’t even have a pet to keep her company. There was just something about comfort in her own solitude that brought Diva peace. It wasn’t that she was socially inept, but there was no telling how many would be there. She was still kind of new here.
Racking up the dirty plates, cups, and utensils Diva only shook her head.
“I’ll consider it.”
“I didn’t hear a no.”
She quickly left, juggling dishes while still touching her ear. She didn’t have to go home. Just one night.
Diva massaged her feet, cracked her back, sighing heavily. The clock read 9.30 PM. Diva leaned back on the counter.
“You got everything done?” Mr. Soto woke her from her daydream.
“Yes sir. Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“You’re free to go if you want. I think we got it handled here. Nothing much else to do.”
Diva took out her phone, clutching it to her chest.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He winked at her. She waved him goodbye, collecting her items, exiting from the building. Pressing her phone to her ear, she waited for the first few rings until someone picked up.
“Hey, dad. Sorry to call you so late.”
Her father’s jovial chuckle echoed into her ears, filling her heart with happiness. God how she missed him. If she closed her eyes she could see him, rather than picture him miles and miles away.
“It’s fine. I’m so glad to hear from you.”
“Me too. I just left work. Gonna go home and hit the books.” Preferably she wished to hit her head with said books. All of that cramming in was going to require a dose of caffeine.
“You best be careful out there.”
“I am dad. Don’t worry about me.” Diva unlocked her car.
“I can’t help but be worried. I wish you would have moved somewhere closer.”
“I know dad. I know.”
Diva scanned the parking lot ready to get gone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
“You think you can email me some pictures of me?” Diva blurted out. “I know it’s sudden...”
“You should have all of the photos you packed when you moved. I’ll check to see if there’s ones you left.”
“Send one of the older family albums too, please.”
“I will sweet heart.” There was an aching in his voice she could detect. He didn’t want her in Osaka. None of them did. She hated hearing him so sad.
“You should go to bed dad. You’re drained. Don’t fret your head about me, I’m a big girl.”
“Ah, Diva. I don’t feel like going to bed.” Now he sounded a fussy kid.
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk. You know how mom is.”
“I suppose you’re right. I just...miss ya.”
“I miss you more. I miss you all. You guys should fly down here to see me.”
“Now that sounds like a plan.”
Diva glanced over her shoulder. Paranoid much. She had every reason to be. The last person just came out of the steak house so she best be gone herself. Wishing her father nothing but love Diva ended the call with her father, ducked into her car, and sped off.
“A party, huh?”
Was the offer still on the table?
Diva could smell the food laid out on tables as several people played or talked in the pool. Nearly every chair was occupied, and some students took up the chaise lounges by the pool house, steam billowing out of the showers behind the structure. A light layer of mist also lingered just above the surface of the water, making the pool look like a hot tub.
Girls ran around, some in bikinis. People laughed, hooted, and hollered after each other.
Diva was barefoot in jean shorts and white tank top that exposed her navel. Her hair was left long and flowing down her back, she still felt out of place. She was not used to this at all.
“I shouldn’t have showed up...” Diva whispered. Was it too late to make an escape? No one had noticed her so far. She pursed her lips into a thin line, advancing into any direction. She picked up pace, running through hedges, ignoring any catcalls and excusing herself from bumping into anyone. No one here she recognized. go figure.
She wasn’t familiar with this area, casting eyes here and now just to navigate. Her feet were grazed with sticks, a few stones and grass. Just as long as she didn’t lose her phone she’d be okay.
A party in the woods was a horrible idea.
“I should have stayed home...” Diva groaned walking into unknown venture. Just randomly heading into what direction she thought would be a way. Considering she came from the opposite direction this wasn’t ideal at all.
She rushed deeper into the forest, not too fast fearing her phone would slip out and crack.
Diva’s footfalls came to trickle. Taking an inhale, her eyes fluttered. Smoke, like from a kindling fire. Yet she hadn’t smelled when she entered into the party. She also couldn’t make out any flames. What she did hear was muffled chatter. Someone was out here?
She hadn’t meant to intrude. Until the chatter became frantic. Like someone was in distress.
Diva covered her mouth to keep from gasping. A thud of a body hit the ground from where she was standing. That sounded too much like bone being broken. A broken neck. Oh, god. Diva backpedaled, only to fall flat on her ass.
Scooting along the earth floor, she pulled herself to run like a bat out of hell until a chilling voice stole the air from her lungs, causing her to pause. Her nostrils were once again infiltrated with the tang of fire and blood.
Those combinations were becoming a damn near unpleasant aroma for Diva now. Her legs felt like rubber, her lungs hurt for air, and her hair stuck to her face and body, a light layer of sweat cooling her skin.
Diva’s lips quivered.
She fell to the ground, curled in the fetal position, covering her ears to block out the sounds.
“Help me please... someone please. No.” Slowly, very slowly, Diva flattened herself onto her back, hands covering her ears, her body shaking, lips trembling.
You’re beyond help.
The man’s voice cut through. So cold.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Diva pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes, spilling out. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t move. She tightened her eyes closed, fervently wishing for herself to gain some control. It was like willing her body to budge just wasn’t going to do so.
What’s wrong? Can’t you breathe?
Diva was barely able to suck in breath. An invisible weight was compressing her ribcage, her lungs. Bit by bit it was as if whatever force was going to crush her torso, her lungs felt like they were going to explode.
There it went. That one simple command like a magic key immediately gave her the ability to inhale oxygen.
“Who are you?” The question wasn’t audible. Diva still lay prone on the forest floor. A few more tears spilled down the sides of her face, her fists clawed at leaves, dirt, and grass.
Blue optics frantically searched for the stranger. Instead of the inky black sky her hues made contact with it was far worse.
Diva had not been aware she was being watched from her paralyzed state. The stranger stood above her.
She could make out his appearance. A tall young man, probably a little older than her. Pale skin, like her own, charcoal hair spiked upward, remnants of it hanging over his eyes. His eyes, his most startling characteristic. They were dark, not like an onyx, but so black that it felt she was staring into a deep hole she couldn’t see the bottom of.
Diva whimpered when his hand came in contact with her throat, his cold fingers splayed on the skin. Realization dawned on the ravenette. Her heart beat at the rate of a jackhammer.
A cold, dank room. Screaming.
“Shutup,” he sneered. He loomed over, closing his hand around her throat but didn’t squeeze.
She shook her head, fighting to lift a muscle to get him away from her. A sob lodged itself in her throat.
“What did you do to me?” Diva growled.
“Shhh,” he said. “Save your strength. You’ll need it.”
Diva’s skin turned several shades of paler tones. She knew him...she knew him...how the hell did she know him?
He knows me...who is he?
He was the same man who she had gotten a glimpse of from behind a week ago. the man whose voice rang in her skull like an unwelcome curse. He’d been watching her, he was always close by.
The next words that came out of Diva’s mouth almost felt like she’d said them before, from a long time ago, that nearly crushed her heart. Her mouth gaped, shutting, then opening again.
“Are you still going to hurt me?” She breathed never breaking eye contact with him. He leaned in a little closer, their noses nearly touching by a hair’s width.
“Someday,” he said.
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Delicious | Aizawa Shouta X Reader (BNHA)
Warnings: 18+! Vampire!Aizawa, Virgin!Reader, Supernatural Au, Bloodplay (kinda), Soulmates, Biting, Voyerism.
Word Count: 5k
This is a (very, very, very) late Secret Santa gift for @10millionyearsdungeon! Britt, my love, you have the patience of a saint and I’m more than honoured to gift you this piece of writing! I hope you enjoy it ♡︎♡︎♡︎
The wedding is beautiful, no expenses spared. Which is to be expected, of course. Your father being the Lord High Treasurer, and your now husband being a well known count: wealthy, with a castle and an estate that rivals even the King himself.
When you found out he’d accepted your father’s offer, you’d been overjoyed. Aizawa Shouta was famous for rejecting all offers: daughters of noble birth, of monetary birth, and beauties alike; so it was only natural for your imagination to run rampant, for you to daydream your days and nights leading up to the wedding away, wondering… why you?
Was there something spectacular he saw in you when he’d come to your home for dinner to hear your father’s offer? Was it your eyes? The ‘air’ about you? He himself was unconventionally handsome, with dark tired eyes, and inky black hair pulled into a low ponytail, dressed in the finest crimson and black ensemble you’d ever seen.
That crimson had reflected in his eyes when he kissed your hand in greeting, setting your heart ablaze and jolting your already rampant pulse.
It brings a smile to your face as you sit in his—your carriage, you suppose— travelling back to the Aizawa Estate, your new home.
He’s quiet, not much of a talker, and it makes you nervous. Despite the soft smile on his face as you approached at the altar, despite the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you as he listed off his vows; despite the tender way in which he kissed you when you were officially made man and woman mere hours ago. Despite all that, the ride to the castle is quiet, and you fiddle with the lace of your beautiful white dress nervously, anxiety swelling in your chest.
Is he regretting this?
Does he not want you any—
A hand, large and heavily ringed and cold, rests over both of yours, and you look up at him— your husband— see him watching you intently. Then he squeezes your hands in his, leans over to the window and parts the curtains.
“We’re close,” his voice is deep, raspy. “I apologise for the long ride, you must be exhausted.”
“N-no, it’s fine,” you stammer, feeling your face heat impossibly hot. “I’m excited to see your home, really.”
“Our home,” he corrects you, lifting one of your hands to his face, lips gently brushing your knuckles.
Nervous laughter slips from your lips, “yes… Our home.”
The Aizawa Estate is as huge as you’d imagined. Gardens sprawl on acres of land beyond the black wrought iron gate, and the cobblestone path the carriage takes you up is longer than any estate you’ve ever visited.
“The family’s always loved their privacy,” he’d mentioned when he noticed your perplexed stare out the carriage window.
All you could do was nod and smile.
The castle itself is nothing if not darkly gothic. It’s hard to really get a look at it in the vastly setting sun, but you’re sure you see gargoyles mounted on tower tops, and beautiful green vines growing over the dark stone exterior.
Then you’re whisked out of the carriage in what feels like a whirlwind; greeted by butlers and maids and cooks and cleaners and ranch hands— at least twenty people greeting you and listing off their names, huge smiles on their ecstatic faces.
“Goodness, you’re beautiful!” An older woman gushes, taking one of your hands in both of hers, surveying your nail beds and your palm, your wrist—
“Enough, Aoi,” Aizawa ticks his tongue, taking your hand from hers, pulling you closer to him. “My bride is tired; it’s been a long day of dancing and eating and getting to know people, hasn’t it, my love?” His eyes look down into yours, brows slightly raised, and you can tell he’s trying to whisk you away.
It should be him— if anyone— who would be tired. You’re used to life at court.
“Ah yes,” you agree, slightly ashamed by the lie. “And my feet in these shoes…” you add it for effect, but in hindsight you shouldn’t have, almost instantly evoking a response akin to panic amongst the maids.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Aizawa hushes them, raising his free hand, seemingly annoyed. “I’ll take her up and get her comfortable. Let me be her husband before you all start… this.” He grumbles, pointing at their concerned faces, as if he’s used to their fussing.
A plethora of “yes, Master,” rings about the foyer, and then he’s taking you up the stairs, hand securely around your own, quietly apologising for their behaviour.
“It’s sweet,” you smile when he glances back at you. “Shows how much they care for you, My Lord.”
He stops mid-step, turns to face you, free hand raising to toy with a lock of your hair. “Please, call me Shouta.”
You feel a heavy blush run up your neck, consume your ears and heat your face. “Of course, Shouta.” You squeeze his hand, surprised at your own composure considering the loud staccato of your heart.
He smirks then, a look you’d not seen on his face all day— if ever— and he squeezes your hand back, leans impossibly close to you and looks into your eyes. “Shall we, my wife?”
It’s the most suggestive he’s been all day, setting you imagination ablaze, churning the cogs in your brain and the butterflies in your stomach.
For perhaps the third time today, all you can do is nod, thighs pressing together under your many skirts to try and hide the fact that you’re excited. He chuckles and turns on his heel, leading you back up the staircase, then towards the east wing of the castle.
Sex isn’t quite as you’d imagined.
He wrings you out completely, pulls sounds you didn’t know you were capable of from your lips, leaves you trembling and weeping and dizzy with pleasure.
Then afterwards he bathes you in the tub, meticulously tending to your needs, before drying you off, dressing you and putting you to bed.
In a bit of what feels like a fever dream, you feel him leave, before falling into a deeper sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in a long, long time.
Days bleed into weeks, then months of blissful marriage. He takes you for dinner once a week at your father’s house, has your friends and family over each Sunday night for a roast. He takes you on twilight walks around the gardens of your estate when he’s not busy, but despite not entirely understanding his job—its just work, my love, nothing to bother you about—he works a lot.
Some days he’s holed up in his office for hours, sometimes he even misses supper.
Its worrisome, he seems forever tired, and though you appreciate the things he does for you… you get lonely.
She’s one of Shouta’s oldest friends; a beautiful woman closer to his age, with long, dark hair and shining blue eyes. At first you were on edge with her around. She’s entirely seductive, in touch with her femininity and not scared to drape herself all over any man or woman she deems worth the effort. You worried that perhaps she was interested in your husband, but one conversation with her about it, had her in absolute stitches.
“Shouta is like a brother to me, little dove,” she’d smiled after she’d calmed her laughter, linking her arm through yours and leaning her head on your shoulder. “Besides, you’re much more to my tastes.”
You had laughed her off, and she’d raced you to the stables, then you’d both gone on a long trail ride out of the estate and through the mountains.
Still, while your friendship with Nemuri was blossoming, while your new husband was attentive and kind, and your new home full of kind, trustworthy people… there was something in the back of your brain that just wouldn’t let you completely settle.
A strange suspicion was growing, spurred on by the fact that every night—no matter what— when your husband thought you were sleeping, he’d slide out of bed and disappear; only to crawl back in beside you a couple of hours later, wrapping his cold arms around your body and nuzzling into your neck with a sigh.
It feels like you can’t ask.
You’ve let it go for so long, that each passing night brings you nothing but anxiety. No matter if you sleep early, or late, if you make love or not, he still leaves.
Where is he going?
You’ve explored the castle enough in your time here to know there are many, many locked doors. Nemuri promises they’re full of old furniture or paintings— just storage— but paranoia has you second guessing her.
Is she in on it, too?
You kiss your husband goodnight and roll onto your side, he snuggles in behind you with a yawn and falls asleep.
Only he’s not, and you’re not.
You wait. You breathe in and out, relax your body, feign it best you can.
It feels like hours later, when he moves. Rolls away slowly and slips from the sheets you share, sliding on his slippers, and leaving the room.
You count to twenty. Twice. With anxiety tight and thick in your chest, you slip out of bed and slide on your robe, your slippers. You get to the door and freeze; you’re scared, but your curiosity outweighs your worry, and then you’re grasping the old handle and slinking from the room.
You follow his candlelit form in the dark, listening to his footfalls in the otherwise silent castle. Down the stairs he goes, through the hallway leading to the kitchens, and down into the cellar. You hesitate when he slides past a tapestry, but it’s too dark not to follow; you’ve never been down here, and you’d surely get lost trying to find your way back to the room.
So you pull the fabric to the side and step into another hallway, one lit with gothic lanterns, the walls littered with portraits of people you’ve never seen nor met.
Perhaps he comes here to pray? These people look like your Shouta, but all were painted decades, and even centuries ago. Maybe this hallway leads to his ancestral tombs, and you’ve just stumbled onto them before he’s felt comfortable enough to share them with you.
How pathetic you’re going to seem if he catches you.
Still, you press on, compelled to, unable to turn back even if you wanted to—
A moan, long and needy and female sounds from a door deeper into the almost infinite hall and your heart leaps in your chest. You know that sound, it’s the sound you make, a sound that Shouta pulls from you when you make love—
Your heart skips and your slow walk turns into a jog, confusion and morbid curiosity pumping the blood faster in your veins, and you hear the sound again—the woman’s moans—and freeze, chest heaving, when you make it to the door. You can hear the low rumble of his voice. Shouta’s voice. It mingles with the keening moans of a woman writhing in pleasure, then:
“Be gentle with her, I haven’t broken her in yet.” Nemuri.
Fury takes hold, the idea of the two of them—your closest family, now—betraying your trust, so overwhelming that you’re gripping the doorknob and turning it, pushing the door open with tears in your eyes.
What you see shocks you.
A woman on the bed in the middle of the room, Nemuri between her legs, Shouta behind her. There’s blood everywhere, and you notice marks— bites— bleeding on the stranger’s skin.
Shouta looks up at you, eyes glowing red, mouth and chin glistening in it.
Instinct says run, but you’re caught in his eyes, like a frightened rabbit staring down a wolf.
He wipes his chin on his sleeve and pushes the woman from his lap, eyes never leaving you, your name on his lips, “you should be sleeping.”
He rounds the bed and makes his way towards you, your heart pounding frantically in your chest, until he’s mere feet from you, clawed hands reaching out for your shoulders. Snapping out of whatever haze you’d been bathed in, you stumble backwards, only stopping when your back hits stone.
“Sh-Shouta,” you reach for his robe as he steps silently towards you, tears gathering in your eyes, head shaking side to side as you beg and plead for him, “p-please don’t hurt me.”
“Hurt you?” He still sounds human, but those clawed fingers are reaching for your face, angling it up so he can look you in the eyes. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Please,” you sob as his face nears, nose grazing the skin of your cheek, then lips resting at your ear.
“Don’t be frightened, my love; blood sours with it.” He whispers, your knees buckling. He catches you, presses a kiss to your cheek and trails down to your throat, breathing in the scent of your skin. “But even scared, you smell most tempting.” His breath shudders against your skin, and he pulls away from you, holds you at arms length. “You think I’d hurt you?”
“She’s having the time of her life in there; can you not hear her moans?” He moves pointedly out of your way, allowing you to see back into the room where Nemuri has her fingers inside the woman’s cunt, where she’s sucking on a wound as she cries and shakes in ecstasy.
You draw in a shaky breath, unable to stop the clench in your core at the sight. “This is wh-what you do each night? You leave me to… play with other women?” Even in your head, you’re surprised that you’re overlooking the obvious— the drinking of the blood— but you’re flustered and angry and feeling... cheated.
He chuckles at it, though, amused. “To feed, my love.” He says smoothly, only making you angrier.
“You’re doing to her what you’re only to do with your wife!” You snip, glaring up at him, watching as a grin grows on his face.
“No, Nemuri provides the pleasure so the blood is ripe enough to be harvested. Nothing worse than an unwilling participant; I’d need to feed twice a day.” His hand— fingers back to normal— comes to your face, dusts hair from your vision. “I do this to protect you, my love, to protect my secret. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”
Something ludicrous comes to mind, and you’re too worked up not to say it: “why not me, then?” His eyes flash like rubies in sunlight, and he snatches your wrist, dragging you further down the hall.
“You?” He asks darkly, your heart leaping in your chest, feet barely keeping up with his long, pointed strides. “You?” He turns to glare at you, but rather than feeling scared, a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins.
He looks forward again, raises his hand; in a gust of wind, the door at the end of the hall flings open, the room inside illuminated in a warm glow.
“You?” He seethes quietly to himself, practically flinging you into the room and slamming the door behind himself. He stands there for a while, hands pressed to the door, eyes on the floor, shoulders rising and falling with exertion.
“You think that’s not the only thing I’ve thought about since meeting you at your father’s estate?” His voice is quiet, breathing evened out. “I knew from the moment I touched you that I needed you here with me, that you were meant for me—made for me.” He turns then, those dark red eyes running your blood cold, your hands coming up to rub at your arms to suppress a shiver. He hangs his head again, sighs a sound that can only be described as painful.
“So, you’re just using her? To stay… alive?”
A deep chuckle, “in a way.”
Another bout of silence.
“So, were you going to ask me? If you could have mine?”
“Shouta, this is a lot—”
“I am well aware. Nemuri warned me we’d be found out; said you were smarter than your average court girl.”
“You sneak away every night—”
“I’d only need to feed on your blood once a week to sustain the standard of living I have now.” He pushes away from the door, turns to face you, neck cracking when he jerks it this way and that.
You take a quick breath, attempt to stand taller, feigning bravery. “Is this,” you glance around the room, full of lit candles, a plush king-sized bed pushed to the far wall, all golds and royal purple and dark shades of grey. “Entirely necessary?”
“This,” he steps towards you, shrugs his arms out of his inky robe, sends it falling to the stone floor. “Is a ceremonial room, used on special occasions. Don’t you prefer to drink your wine at parties, my love?” He steps closer still, and you raise your chin, trying to prove you’re not as scared as you should be.
“Will it hurt?” You whisper when his hands come to rest on your shoulders, running down your arms to free them of your hands still gripping the flesh there.
“A... good hurt.” His voice is quiet, eyes roaming the skin he’s exposing as he’s sliding off your own robe, the flowy white satin pooling at your feet. Goosebumps pepper your skin as his fingers drawing down your arms, until they’re linking with yours, drawing both of your hands to his lips. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Are you? Are you really prepared for this man, this… vampire, to sink his fangs into your skin and drink from you? What will happen? Will you die? Will you change?
“If you have questions, my love, ask away.” You look up into his eyes as he drops your hands and cups your face. “Your pulse is racing.”
“A-after,” you inwardly kick yourself for stammering again. “What happens after?”
His thumbs gently trace your cheeks, “you sleep, I sleep; we wake in the morning and eat breakfast.”
“Will I remember?”
“Will the wound hurt?”
“During? No. In the morning? A little.”
Your voice lowers, “will I be different?”
He sighs, hands dropping to your neck, thumbs still rubbing your skin, your jaw, your ears, “that may come later.”
You reach for him then, hands on his nightshirt, fingers desperately clinging to the thin material as you rise onto your tiptoes and press your lips to his. The kiss deepens, your eyes slamming shut, lips hungry, tongue sliding against his, the faint coppery taste of the nameless woman in the other room sparking your jealousy, pushing you further faster, your hands gripping at Shouta’s shoulders, arms wrapping around his neck.
He lifts you with a growling rumble in his chest, and you wrap your legs around him, a thrill rising in your gut as he walks you backwards, his kisses trailing down your chin, tongue lavishing your jaw, your neck. Then you’re dropped onto the plush bed, and he’s crawling on top of you, slipping his hips between your thighs, lips back on yours, hungrier for you than you’ve ever seen him—than you’ve ever felt him.
Hands grope and pet at you as you lose your own in his hair, lost in the delicious ecstasy that is his lips on your throat, on your clavicle, the exposed skin of your shoulder. “Beautiful,” he mumbles, drawing the dainty strap of your nightgown down your arm. “Your blood is already begging me to taste it,” he whispers against your skin, nose drawing along it on a deep inhale.
“I love you,” is all you can say; breathlessly lost in his ministrations, mind focused on nothing except the growing pleasure your husband is bringing you.
“And I you, my love,” he whispers back, fingers on your hips, hiking up your skirt with a desperation he’s never shown before. He sits up on his knees and tears his shirt from his torso, showing you the toned chest and abs that you’ve never really seen in full light. Dark hair dusts his chest, and scars—so many scars—litter his skin, a gasp leaving your throat at the sight.
You sit up and marvel at him, touching his pale skin as if it were made of crystal, as if the scars were inscriptions for you to decipher. He just smiles, takes the opportunity to lift your dress from your form and toss it with his shirt, his breath leaving his lips at the sight of you fully naked in front of him.
“We must always make love in the candlelight,” he says, both hands finding your thighs, trailing up and over your hips, waist, lightly dragging up your breasts, thumbs fondling your nipples. “Too long I have kept you in the dark.”
A shiver wracks your form, “you can keep me anywhere, Shouta, as long as I can be with you.”
“Say that, and I just might have to keep you locked in this room, my love.” He threatens in jest, pushing you back into the plush mattress, lips ghosting over the skin of your chest, latching onto a nipple as fingers pull and twist playfully at the other.
Your moans only intensify the longer he toys with you, and the more vocal you are with your pleasure, the rougher he gets. Kissing turns to nipping, fingers find the dripping lips of your sex and stroke you gently, before one, then two digits slide into you, your back bowing off the bed, nipples rubbing against the course hair at his chest as his lips suck and nip at your throat.
Its too much, the most intense he’s ever been, the most wonderful you’ve ever felt. “More,” you find yourself saying, hips jerking as he languidly fingers you, your nails digging deep into the flesh at his back. “Shouta, please,” you beg, delirious with want, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
“I’ll be gentle,” he says, words betraying his gruff tone. Still his fingers fuck you, heel of his hand pressing at the bundle of nerves above your sex, teeth grazing your skin teasingly, his breath hot and heady and fast against your skin.
“N-no, Shouta, please, I need—I’m going to—”
“I’m going to bite you when you cum; is that okay?” he asks, lips at your ear, stopping the motions with his hand.
“Yes!” You gasp, desperate, tears streaking your cheeks, brows tenting up as you hump against his hand. “Yes, Shouta, yes; don’t stop—”
A primal growl leaves his lips and his free hand pushes your hips into the bed, other hand resuming those delicious motions, fingers moving faster, heel pressing harder. Your nails scratch his back as you cry, moans building to a crescendo as the coil deep in your belly tightens to much until it’s completely snapping, mouth open in a soundless cry as your orgasm shakes your bones—
And you feel it: molten pleasure like you’ve never felt before. It starts at your neck, then spreads like wildfire, igniting your veins and your nerves, sending you almost delirious, head practically spinning with the ecstasy of it all.
He pulls away from you and your eyes find his—glowing redder than you’ve ever seen—before you look to his lips and see them kiss-bruised, swollen and covered in blood. Your blood. You’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re pulling him down to you, kissing at his mouth, tasting the fruit of your own veins and groaning at the feel of it all.
His fingers—now clawed and sharp—dig into the flesh of your waist as he devours your mouth, the rumble in his chest both validating and spurring you on. Needy fingers reach for his pants, pushing them down to pull out his thick cock, your hips wriggling as you do your best to line him up with your dripping hole, chest heaving with the effort of it all.
“Relax,” he hisses, pulling away from your mouth, taking his cock in a hand and rubbing his spongey head against your greedy cunt. Another primal groan, “you’re delicious; everything about you.”
“Shouta, f-fuck me,” you beg, the curse slipping from your lips in a wispy whine.
“As you wish,” he breathes, pushing in and bottoming out in one thrust, his lips finding yours, swallowing the surprised gasp he tears from your lungs. He’s still for a moment, pulling away from your lips to look down into your eyes, a hand coming up to your face, a knuckle wiping at the tear that rolls down your cheek. “I love you,” he admits, nose brushing yours,
“Me too,” you sigh, breathing shaky, hands coming up to touch gently at his face. The warm buzz is still ignited in your veins, adoration surging through you like wildfire, and as his eyes—now a shining crimson—survey your face, you think you see it in him as well.
Then he’s rocking into you, and you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing his lips to yours in another kiss, his tongue snaking into your mouth, yours running along his teeth, a thrill shooting to your core at the feel of his elongated fangs against your soft muscle.
He’s so dangerous, yet… here you are with him, making love.
He speeds up when you pull at his hair and nip at his bottom lip, a grin growing on his face at your bold ministrations; then his tongue is at your throat, licking and mouthing at the wound he made moments ago, before he returns his lips to yours, covered again in your own blood.
You kiss him feverishly and he pulls away with a smile, “you’re far more devilish than I thought you’d be, dirty girl,” then his mouth is at the other side of your throat, fangs grazing the skin dangerously; you find yourself wanting it, craning your neck for him and giving him better access, hands dropping from his hair to fist the rich purple blanket beneath you.
His name leaves your lips in a sigh, then a moan as he ruts into you, brain unable to comprehend whether it should focus on the way he’s moving inside you and moving with you, or those fangs that are sinking into your skin—not enough to pierce the flesh, but just enough to tease at the prospect of it.
“More, more, more,” is the chant falling from your lips, eyes unable to really focus with the intoxicating lust surrounding you, enveloping you whole. You’ve had sex many, many times, but it’s never been anything like this. Not once.
Strong hands press at the backs of your knees, pushing them up by your ears, so he can better drive into you. He looms over you, a large, strong thing with glowing red eyes and sharp teeth and wild black hair: a predator; but all you can do is melt for him, his movements edging you closer and closer to your second orgasm, his cock driving so deep into you that you can feel him kissing at your cervix as his body blankets yours, lips at your ear.
You can feel it bubbling beneath the surface before he even says it, the anticipation of it all sending your skin ablaze, your mind buzzing, your cunt throbbing.
As the pleasure envelops you for a second time, you feel him mouthing at the untouched side of your neck, that same thrilling poison entering your bloodstream as your cunt milks his cock, your belly warming with his cum as the rest of your body falls into that delirious haze, and you’re floating in that euphoric numbness that you feel you’ll never get used to.
Eyes flutter open but your body feels heavy.
When you register the fact that you’re in your bedroom, not the dungeon, you jerk up, a surprised gasp catching your attention as hands gently take your arm, your eyes falling on Nemuri where she sits in a chair next to your bed.
“Good morning, lovely.” She smiles knowingly, closing the novel on her lap and dropping it to the floor.
You feel your face heat, “N-Nemuri, good morning. Where’s Shouta?” You ask, feeling a little empty without him by your side, a bit awkward at the position you’d seen her in last night.
“Lay down,” she urges with airy laughter, “your husband is attending a meeting in town because he drank the blood of his soulmate last night and can effortlessly walk among the living.”
An angry heat creeps up your cheeks and your hands reach for your neck, where both marks have been tended to and patched up. “I’m sorry for barging in, Nemuri—”
“Nonsense!” She laughs, petting your hair. “I told that idiot you’d notice him missing. I’m just glad you didn’t scare off.”
Vivid flashbacks of the night before—the purple bedsheets, the candles, your blood on his lips as he kissed you—remind you it was real, and you find yourself smiling, bottom lip snug between your teeth.
“Ahh, I’m jealous,” she sighs, throwing her arms beside you on the bed and burying her face in them. “He actually found his soulmate before me; I was sure I’d beat him.”
You can only laugh, “we’ve been married for months, why are you sad now?”
“Now its real,” she pops her head up. “You’ll only need each other for all of eternity—I’ll be hiding my lovers in the basement.”
“I’ve been alive much longer than you, Nemu.” Your husband sighs, stealthily closing the door behind him.
“Shouta!” You gasp, sitting up, only for Nemuri to laugh and push you back down.
“Ah-ah,” he says, eyes adoring as they look at you. “Today you rest,” he sits at the edge of the bed and leans over to run a hand down your arm. “I went a little… overboard last night and you need to recuperate.
“But I feel fine, I promise.” You almost pout, caught a little between a rock and a hard place.
“Just today, my love, for my sanity.” He draws the backs of his fingers down your cheek, and you melt back into the pillow, suddenly tired again.
“Are you hungry?” Nemuri asks, petting your hair, sly smile on her face as her eyes dart between the two of you.
“Starving.” You mumble, before your eyes drift closed and you fall back into a dream-filled slumber.
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For You: Stand By Me
Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn @i-peachesandstrawberries
If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!
Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.
Chapter 12: A Boy Like The Sun
It was the best dream I ever had— the feeling of Sehun’s lips against mine. His touch was gentle— so gentle that I shouldn’t have felt it long after the moment passed, so faint that it shouldn’t still seize my heart and squeeze my lungs empty and wipe my mind of every thought except those of him.
Sehun. Sehun, who was never mine. Sehun, who made me believe for a fraction of an infinity that maybe everything in life had led to that moment when he filled my every sense and painted my every thought and memory with colors that I had never seen once with open eyes.
My best dream. My favorite dream. The dream that blessed me too many nights before and after it became a curse. The dream I would bring back to life every day of every week even if it ended the same way every single time.
The problem with dreams coming true is that you always wake up or the dream becomes a nightmare.
Never in a million years would I have believed that his smile and his laughter— the luxuries that were once so rare and more brilliant than the sun in my childhood world— would conspire to break my heart into a million little pieces that were too jagged and sore and bloodsoaked by the piano to pick up and fit back together.
Yes, it was my first kiss.
He was my first kiss.
Sehun was my first kiss.
And I wasn’t shy— just humiliated by his laughter at my expense. I was just humiliated that I couldn’t catch my breath. I was just humiliated by the urge to kiss him again because it— he— Sehun was everything I was afraid of wanting or needing to feel like one of those people who can smile in the sun and really mean it no matter how many eyes try to rip them apart.
And I was, for a fleeting second that I wish with all of my soul had lasted forever, proud to have shared my first and only act of intimate affection with Sehun because I always imagined that he was so much more than handsome before he broke my heart with a smile and a wink.
And if he would have loved me, even in his broken joke of a way that impaled me through the chest, I would have forgotten my refusal to date— just for him. I would have let him in every door, I would have helped him climb over every wall because — well— every wall crumbled at his touch. Not even his ill-timed laughter and mockery would rebuild them. Every door was always unlocked for him, and his kiss blew them wide open with a wild gust of tornado hurricane wind, and it would take all of my strength to lock them.
I guess I have Minseok to thank for saving my pride. If he hadn’t called Sehun to his side and allowed me to run up to my moonlit bedroom where I could reconstruct my defenses— the defenses that I once imagined applied to everyone but the one who already held my heart in the palm of his hand— maybe I would have acted on that urge to rise on the tips of my toes to kiss Sehun again and again and again even if it was just a joke to him and Chanyeol, even if his heart could never swell for me or break for me, even if I could never look at him while remembering the beloved boy who was always beautifully too far out of reach, always opposed to love despite frequent expressive actions, always just slightly out of step, never quite on the same page, tragically never on the same path for long, never once in a million daydreams close to being mine.
I closed the door on years of memories, years of looking at one person who never needed to look at me to have my love, years of falling for Lucas’s adamant belief that everything works out for those who are meant to be together, years of praying in the tiniest, most irrational piece of my heart that Sehun and I would someday—
Every thought died when I made eye contact with his poster that hung on my wall since his debut. All at once, as I removed it pin by pin, imagining that this was exactly what I would have to do in my mind with every one of his memories if I ever wanted to stop bleeding, tears streamed down my cheeks.
Would you think that I’m pathetic if I told you how hard it was to be angry with Sehun for hurting me? Would you think that I’m weak if you knew how long I struggled to pack Sehun’s poster back into its container? Would you call me a fool if you knew that I almost left his photocards up on the wall because I wanted so desperately to remember him without that stabbing ache in my chest— because I wanted to forget that he told me I was annoying for following him and that he laughed at my first kiss and that he dashed my every conception of him?
I don’t care if you would.
It killed me to lock our memories away in that box. It killed me to unfasten his bracelet. I hated that I couldn’t just close my eyes and think of Sehun as I always had. I hated that I couldn’t trick myself into believing the lie that nothing had changed— that I wasn’t shattered.
I don’t care if you think I’m weak because I don’t care about being strong anymore. After all this time, I have accepted that there is only one person who has ever held the power to fragment me like that. I have accepted that I am foolish enough to trust him with that power in every universe. What’s worse: I am okay with spending all that time crying in the dark if it gives me the vaguest hope that he could love me someday.
I was hugging Sehun’s note that came with the bracelet against my chest when Lucas burst through the door, smiling and unsteady on his feet. “Baekhyun spiked the punch!” He cheered, holding up a clear glass of red liquid. “I brought you some!”
Lucas’s smile faltered when he sat on the foot of my bed. Setting the cup down on the floor, he asked, “What’s wrong, Lei?”
And before I could decide what was worth sharing and what was worth locking away in the box, I threw myself into Lucas’s outstretched arms, sputtering, “Sehun— Sehun— Sehun—”
I couldn’t say anything but his name. The name that still made my heart swell.
Realizing that I couldn’t say anything else, Lucas ran a comforting hand up and down my back, promising, “It’s okay. Just let it out.”
Until the embarrassment of baring my raw emotions overwhelmed the ache of a broken heart, I sobbed into Lucas’s shirt. If he didn’t smell so different— if he didn’t feel so different— if his voice didn’t sound so different, I would have imagined that (instead of Lucas) Sehun held me together that night.
When I finally ran out of tears that Lucas could dry, when I finally untangled myself, I rubbed at my eyes. “I’m really tired.” My words blurred together in a pathetic mumble.
“Oh,” Lucas hummed. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, if you’re sure—” I nodded— “then I’ll just go back downstairs.” He picked the alcoholic punch up off of the floor. “Just text me if you need me, and I’ll come running.”
“I know.” To prove that I would be okay alone— that I could heal alone— I tried to force a smile. Just before he walked out of the door, I asked, “Can you take that box away for me?”
“Sure,” Lucas agreed before knowing its contents. After taking a glance at Sehun’s picture, he swore, “I’ll take good care of this for you.”
Practicing my hand at pretending to be strong despite the growing urge to snatch my box away from Lucas and return its contents to their rightful places, I lied, “I don’t care what you do with it.”
Lucas blinked. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t say so. “Someday you might,” was all he said before walking away with every token of my memories with Sehun.
If I thought that the memories would fade with those objects out of sight, I must have been disappointed breathless at the number of scenes that played in my mind as I stepped out of my white dress and heels into a set of sunflower pajamas. When I settled into bed, rubbing at the headache forming around my temples, I realized that I would never forget Sehun. Only with the greatest exertion of effort would I be able to hide my love for him (and my humiliating utter desperation for his love) behind a mask of exaggerated anger.
Here’s the truth, if you want it: I didn’t love Sehun any less after he kissed me at that Christmas party. It was with great difficulty that I avoided him over the following two years. The embarrassed anger that would eventually swell in my gut with his mocking flirtatious remarks wasn’t an immediate response. For a while, I was still stupid enough to swoon at his glance.
I was lying in bed, dreaming of how I would survive without surrendering any more pieces of my heart the next time I saw Sehun, when three knocks sounded at the door. My eyes opened wide to the sight of Baekhyun tiptoeing into my bedroom as if he were afraid to wake me.
Although Baekhyun and I were not especially close, I didn’t feel bothered by his sudden, unannounced, unsolicited appearance. Spurred by curiosity that burned through my sadness, I sat upright and quipped, “Come on in, Baekhyun.”
Turning toward me quickly enough to flick his orange-dyed bangs out of his eyes, Baekhyun broke into a glittering smile. “Thanks for the warm welcome!”
He turned back to trace the outline of the place where Sehun’s poster stood for years. His touch was careful, hesitant as if he feared that the wall would crumble under pressure. “I was looking for the bathroom. It’s a happy accident that I ended up where you are.”
Owing to his devious smile, I didn’t believe that anything Baekhyun did was an accident. Still, I was afraid to say something that would send him away. Forgetting that I wanted to be alone just minutes ago, I didn’t offer him directions to the bathroom. “A happy accident,” I repeated under my breath.
He said, “The party is boring without you,” although he hadn’t said a word since ‘hello’ at the start of the night. “Can’t I convince you to go back with me?”
“I would follow you anywhere, Baek.”
My hand clamped over my mouth after the words fell out as if in an ill-timed effort to contain them. I don’t know why I said that. I had never followed Baekhyun a day in my life— not even that time at the SM showcase when he tried to lead me away from the first Sehun-induced heartache.
“Anywhere?” Baekhyun winked and melted the block of ice in my chest.
Stupidly, as if enchanted by his smile, I nodded, conditioning, “Just not tonight.” Although Baekhyun asked for no explanation as his gaze dropped down to his feet in a perfect picture of disappointment, I said, “My heart is too heavy tonight.”
“What if I carried it for you?”
Thinking that he couldn't have been serious, I laughed until I felt his eyes on me. Something about the way he looked at me took my breath away— made my heart thunder as if it wasn’t broken— made me forget that I was supposed to be crying, mourning a dream that I never should have dreamed.
Once I found my voice, I said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Somebody else is holding it,” Baekhyun muttered, likely assuming that I wouldn’t hear. He reached for the ribbon on my vanity— the one I wore on my debut stage— and I raced to reach it first.
But I couldn’t beat Baekhyun. I don’t know why I tried in the first place. I don’t know why I didn’t want him to touch the item I hadn’t looked at since the first and only time I wore it.
The ribbon was radiant in his hands. As he traced his fingers over it, eyes widening and glittering as if it were an artifact of his wildest dreams, I told him, “I’m holding my heart. I can feel it pounding. Breaking. Aching. It’s mine again, for the first time that I can really remember, and I wouldn’t give it to someone like you in its current condition.”
In a wounded whimper, Baekhyun repeated, “Someone like me?”
My heart stilled. I was quick to explain that I wasn’t trying to insult him. “Yeah. A boy like the sun.”
Baekhyun’s eyebrows pinched together to form little wrinkles in his forehead. “The sun?”
“Yeah. Somebody who can smile in the sun and mean it no matter how many eyes try to rip them apart.” I burned at how easily I could speak to Baekhyun, who was little more than a friendly acquaintance, when I was a stuttering, blubbering mess around Lucas, who was my best friend.
The stars shone in Baekhyun’s eyes a thousand times brighter than they ever did in the sky. I couldn’t look away from them. I couldn’t forget them. Sometimes, I count them when it’s hard to fall asleep.
“That’s what you think of me?” Baekhyun beamed. His smile made me smile too. “You think I’m like the sun?”
“You’re probably brighter than the sun, Baek.”
Suddenly, he was too bright, and there were too many parts of myself that I wanted to hide in the shadows. Although I didn’t want to, I needed to look away from Baekhyun’s smile. My eyes fixed on the ribbon in his hand, and I reached for it again.
Holding it just out of reach, Baekhyun looked down on me with a muted form of his sunshine smile. “Have you ever heard about ribbons and soulmates?” When I shook my head, flushing at the word ‘soulmate,’ Baekhyun continued, “I learned about it from my second favorite love story. Apparently, if you give a ribbon to someone or if someone gives a ribbon to you, your souls will be tied together forever. So be careful of who you give this to.”
Struggling to imagine that Baekhyun was the kind of person who watched or read romantic stories, much less believed romantic superstitions, I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting for some outburst of laughter. “Do you really believe in that sort of thing?”
Baekhyun shrugged. “The couple in the story was together forever, so it can’t hurt to be careful.” He pressed the ribbon into my palm. His skin was fire against mine— a flame that warmed but didn’t scald. I think that’s the first hint that I was dreaming. Feelings like that don’t exist in real life.
Maybe I scalded him, though. Maybe I gave him frostbite. Baekhyun’s hand flinched away from mine, and he looked down at it as if expecting to find a scar or a blister. There was nothing there.
Frowning, I said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
Baekhyun looked up from his hand to meet my eyes. “Huh? You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me.”
I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure about something like that, but I didn’t even want to imagine hurting Baekhyun, so I made a joke instead. Grinning down at the ribbon in my hand, I asked, “You gave this to me. Does that make you my soulmate, Baek?”
He blinked a few times, mouth falling agape before a smile broke across his face. “Don’t make a big deal of it.”
Those words— they struck a familiar chord within my heart, within my memory. I closed my eyes and remembered a golden pink sunset coloring a cotton candy sky, a crown of white roses, a white rose in his coat pocket, a fountain where we made wishes. Deja vu. The memory with Baekhyun that played in my mind had never happened, but still I— I could feel it.
The last time I heard him say those words to me, did I want to kiss him as badly as I did that night in my room? I must have. Whether it was in another dream— because surely, this was a dream— or another lifetime, those words must have inspired the singular desire to bridge all distance between us.
The dream prompted me to take the first step toward him— the first step I had ever taken in my life— ribbon still in hand, and I would have brushed my lips against his in pursuit of some cosmic miracle if he didn’t wheeze, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.”
My eyes, which I must have closed in preparation for some eclipse, opened to the sight of Baekhyun’s eyes swimming in tears. I would have done anything to take that look from his face, even if it was a figment of a dream turned nightmare. Leaping away (despite my persisting desire to cling to him) because I knew I was accidentally the source of his tears, I opened my mouth to apologize.
Baekhyun didn’t give me a chance, though. Gnawing at his lips as if he was afraid that I would try again to kiss them, he bowed to me. “I’m sorry, Lei. There’s something really important that I have to take care of. Don’t—” A tear streamed down his cheek— “If we’re dreaming, don’t forget me when we wake up.”
Before I could promise that I wouldn’t, he bolted out the door without glancing back. He was gone just as suddenly as he appeared. And I missed him. I miss him.
Maybe Baekhyun knew how to carry others’ broken hearts, and maybe he didn’t need permission to do so. After he left, and I settled back under my blankets, the ache in my chest was almost gone.
I fell into dreams about him— laughing down by some lake, arguing in some darkened corner of an SM banquet hall, talking by the side of some pool, driving through my hometown late at night with the sunroof down, tossing coins into a wishing fountain, stumbling into his arms at a party where we matched from head to toe. Dreams— maybe they’re memories from another life. Maybe I woke the next morning, haunted by the hope that I loved Baekhyun in another life and that maybe, someday, if I did everything right, I would get to live that life again.
I dreamed of Baekhyun, burned as I wondered how I would ever face him, squirmed as I debated whether he was in real life anything like he was in dreams.
And then I remembered the dangers of wasting one’s life dwelling on dreams— even the best ones. And I learned to be content with his mischievous glittering smiles and the memory of the stars in his eyes. And I never quite packed it away— the hope that there would be a time for him someday.
Of course, I think I forgot just about everything when I saw him again— the one who could send me falling with just a glance.
Maybe my heart was mine, but that was only due to the force with which I held it whenever Sehun stood too close, calling it to him without words. That was only due to the scowl that I sculpted onto my face whenever the white-hot sting of his laughter wasn’t a distant enough memory.
And even then, if I’m really honest, if I hold nothing back, I’ll admit that my heart was secretly (not-so-secretly) his all that time.
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finding a true love’s kiss
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: you couldn’t stand fred weasley, yet you were best friends with george weasley. it was a strange dynamic until you end up in detention with fred and he reveals a secret he has been hiding for years
warnings: not proofread, written weeks a part, inaccurate Harry Potter vocab probably, shitty ending
notes: this was originally for @lunalovecroft‘s writing challenge but I wrote one part like two months ago but hopefully it’s still legible to some extent. prompt used was “you can hate people and still think they’re hot”
"How long have you and George been friends?" Katie Bell aimed the question at you, diverting your attention from the burgundy rug underneath you to the curious eyes of your roommates anticipating your answer. You were all sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, creating a circle as you delved into the usual Friday night gossip session.
Pondering on the question for a second, you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, "since the beginning of time it seems."
"Yet you've never... did it?" The girls squealed around you, clapping their hands in excitement. With wide eyes, you denied the question to no end.
"Did I have sex with George?" You spluttered out, feeling your face flush, "absolutely not."
"Why not?" Angelina pushed, wanting to get more details from you.
"I'll have you know," you started, lifting yourself from the floor and making your way to your own single bed, "myself and George are only friends, that's it."
Angelina eyed Katie as you turned your back to them, stripping from your white buttoned-up shirt and replacing it with a cozy pyjama top. "What about Fred?"
The silence was deafening, no one dared to laugh or squeal this time around. You stared down at the white material dangling from your fingertips, a sickening feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. When you scoffed, the girls’ shoulders loosened and they let out a sigh of relief when you turned to them with an amused smile on your face. "Fred and I can’t even be in the same room together for longer than needs be, never mind long enough for us to... do the deed."
“I don’t know, y/n,” Katie drawled on, standing up and walking over to you, she squeezed your shoulders as she said, “I think it’s all the sexual tension building up.”
Pushing her away from you, you faked gagged in their direction, “You two are crazy.”
“I just don’t understand how you can be best friends with one twin, and hate the other one,” Katie laughed, changing into her own pajamas and climbing on top of her unmade bed. “But we see the way he is around you.”
“Yeah, an ignorant jackass,” you chuckled, flopping down onto the bed.
“More like a boy picking on the girl he has a crush on,” Angelina said.
“Please, don’t make me sick,” you shuffled into your bed, pulling the quilt up to your chin. Angelina switched the lights off, leaving you in complete darkness. You listened to her maneuver in the dark, trying to dodge the mess you all made. Hearing her muffle profanities made you giggle, assuming she walked into something or kicked a lifeless object.
“You know, y/n, you can hate people and still think they’re hot,” you rolled your eyes at Angelina’s words, twisting in your bed and letting out a loud exhale into the pillow.
“Thanks for the words of wisdom, but Fred Weasley is not hot,” your voice was filled with distaste, your lips smacking together loudly to get your point across but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. Your friends never listened when you told them over and over again that you weren’t hiding feelings for Fred, the relationship you had with him will forever be non-existence.
It was safe to say that the conversation from the night before had left a sour taste in your mouth. You were woken from a sweet slumber by the sound of birds chirping through the opened window; normally, you’d groan in annoyance but enjoy the sound. This morning, however, was different. It was as if the birds had clawed their way into your brain and changed a few wires, you climbed out of the bed with the sudden urge to crucify the loud creatures. One look at your face and Angelina was twirling on her heels and made her way out the dorm room, leaving you to your own devices.
Mornings were usually the quietest time of the day for you. You would get up and skip down to breakfast but this morning you couldn’t even work the courage to plaster a fake smile on your face as you entered the Great Hall and your mood remained foul at the sight of Fred Weasley sitting beside his twin brother. Heaving in a sigh, you sat across from George and started piling the breakfast onto your plate.
“Jesus, don’t you look awful this morning,” Fred’s voice echoed through your thoughts.
Snapping your head in the direction, your eyes narrowed, “you really want to start this early?”
“This started a long time ago,” Fred snapped back at you, the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes to the heavens. You ignored him, looking at George who has a pleading expression on his face.
“Don’t even say it,” you mumbled, reaching for the milk and pouring it into the bowl of cereal in front of you.
“There’s no point, I’m sick of saying it,” your best friend said.
You ate silently, listening to the twins bickering and there was something about Fred’s voice that was eating at you. Despite knowing him for years, it was familiar, more familiar than usual. You glanced up from your spoon, unconsciously connecting your gaze with Fred. You shocked yourself by not looking away or flipping him off, and it surprised you when it looked as if he fell into a dream. The longer you looked at him, a warning signal was going off in your head and then something clicked in your brain. All the color drained from your face, fear striking through your body.
“y/n, what’s going on?” George asked, grabbing your hand but you pulled it back and scrambled from the table, walking quickly out of the hall. Everything came flashing back - everything you dreamt about last night.
“You’re being so damn annoying today,” you hissed, pushing Fred away from you as he reached across the table to grab something. It was just you and him in the kitchen of the Burrow, a place you spent numerous holidays but it was quieter than usual.
“You’re annoying every day,” Fred retorted, taking a bite of the red apple. He leaned against the countertop, looking at you flicking through the book in hand. You rolled your eyes, stalking away from him but you could hear his footsteps follow you, “Why do you hate me?”
You looked over your shoulder, brows creasing in confusion, “What?”
“Why do you hate me?” Fred repeated.
“I don’t hate you, Fred,” you muttered softly, feeling the air thicken around you. You turned to face him, watching him swallow awkwardly and you could see it in his eyes; he didn’t hate you either. Without another word being uttered, you closed the gap between your bodies and connected your lips to his.
“Fuck,” you muttered angrily, remembering the dream that soon turned into a nightmare. You’ve never dreamt about Fred before, he may have been in the background of some but he was never the main character, he was most definitely never the love interest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“That’s a lot of fucks given,” George chuckled, pushing his way past students walking towards The Great Hall, “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, G.”
George raised one brow in the air, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he examined you closely, “You sure about that?”
“Positive,” you popped, brushing your hair out of your face and stepping out to the courtyard, “Just remembered a nightmare.”
“Want to talk about it?” You immediately shook your head, earning a laugh from George who nodded understandingly. “Most likely about my brother being a dickhead, aye?”
“Something like that,” you laughed, trying to push the lingering face of Fred to the back of your mind.
The day slowly passed by, your mood gradually getting worse throughout it. Every free second that your mind was preoccupied with studying or maintaining a conversation with someone, it wandered off to the same red-haired that starred in your dream last night. It wasn’t the usual thoughts that you had about Fred that consisted of wanting to punch him in the face or lock him in a broom cabinet. It was worse than that, you found yourself seeking him out and admiring how he twirled his quill between his fingers. The anger that usually washed over you whenever you looked at him was non-existence. It was more of a longing feeling and it terrified you.
You had spent the majority of the day in the library, not wanting to confront George and definitely not being able to be in the presence of Fred. You were slowly making your way back to the common room, trying to procrastinate it as much as possible hence why you took the long route around the castle. What you didn’t expect was to hear an explosion from up ahead and a strangled yell of annoyance but it was enough to put the puzzles together.
Just as you were about to round the corner, a figure stumbled into you and knocked you to the floor. You gripped out for the robes that made you lose your balance and brought them to the ground as well with them landing on top of you. A flash of red-hair made you groan and your eyes connected to Fred’s wide brown ones. It startled you, the image of him kissing you making your stomach nauseous.
“Shit, get up!” Fred exclaimed, jumping from your body and he waited for you but you were still in a shocked daze. He groaned and gripped your robes, pulling you up and running along the corridor with you trailing behind him. “In here,” he demanded, opening the door and pushing you inside with him.
The rough gesture brought you from daydream, realisation kicking in and you pushed Fred away from you. “What the hell?” you yelled, fixing your robes and hair that was a mess but you were consciously aware of them now.
“Shut up,” Fred demanded, covering your mouth with his hand. Your eyes widened again, feeling your heart hammer against your chest at the close proximity of his body to yours. Your eyes darted around his face, his eyes closed as he tried to listen intently to whoever was searching for him. The freckles danced along his nose, similar to how George’s were but with Fred, they were evenly spaced and spontaneous. His eyes lashes were full and long, you envied them. His lips were uneven, his top lip thin and his bottom lip full but they looked so kissable in that moment. When his eyes fluttered open after seconds of silence, your eyes lingered on his for a moment longer. You wondered if he felt the shift in emotion between you, or if it was one-sided. “I think it’s safe.”
You feigned a roll of your eyes and licked the palm of his hand, earning yourself a look of disgust from him. “I don’t even want to know what you did…” you mumbled, glancing around the room he pushed you in; an unused office except it was piled with broken chairs and tables, unopened boxes were on top of each other, some materials spilling from them.
“Of course you don’t, it’d be too much fun for you,” Fred retorted, stepping away from you and stumbling over a box behind him. You laughed loudly, ignoring him flipping you off as you opened the door to the office and stepped outside, only to be met with the peering eyes of Professor McGonagall.
“Professor..” you gasped, trying not to stare too much at the black ashes swept through her hair, “W-what happened to you?”
“Funny you should ask, Miss y/l/n,” her glasses hanging at the end of her nose, “I’m not at all surprised to see you, Mr. Weasley, however, y/n, I do hope that detention tomorrow will give you enough time to think about your actions.”
“P-Professor -,” you stuttered but you were cut off.
“This office looks like it needs a good tidy,” McGonagall peered into the damp and dark office, “It’ll at least keep you both busy on a boring Sunday, without magic.”
You stalked away from Fred when McGonagall excused you, the anger was bubbling inside you and you ignored his chuckles as he followed you back to the common room. “Wait up, y/n.”
You twirled on your heels, getting ready to give this man a piece of your mind when you looked over his shoulder to spot the other twin making his way towards you. A grin was on George’s face until he spotted the two of you, and it deflated just as quickly. “Where did you go?” He asked Fred, shoving his shoulder.
“I bumped into this headwrecker,” Fred pointed towards you. You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “McGonagall found us.”
“And we both have detention tomorrow,” you deadpanned, glaring at the twins.
“Oh,” George mumbled.
“Oh? Oh? That’s all you can say,” you sighed in frustration, “Because you two are complete gits, I have to sacrifice a whole Sunday and spend it with this twat.”
“I don’t know which bit she’s more annoyed about,” Fred whispered under his breath to George, but you could hear him clearly. You groaned and marched towards the common room, not seeing George and Fred share a look of amusement.
“I’ll give you one guess,” George laughed, shoving his brother again and following after you.
The dreaded hour of the clock struck and you were leaning against the cold, brick wall with your feet stretched out in front of you. Your eyes were glaring at the locked door of the office you misfortunately got dragged into yesterday evening by your so-called enemy. Your developing feelings for Fred ceased before they even got the chance to blossom into something real. The trouble he caused you left a sour taste in your mouth, a permanent frown on your face.
“Miss y/l/n, good morning,” Professor McGonagall greeted you, her eyes scanning the empty corridor for a certain ginger twin but she sighed and shook her head disappointingly when he was nowhere to be seen. With a quick swift of her wand, the door glides open and you follow her into the room with a heavy exhale. “Please do use these hours wisely, maybe even consider building bridges.”
The frown deepened on your face, first because of what she had implied and then secondly because your eyes danced around the room and it looked even worse than what you remembered. Ignoring her previous implications, you questioned her desire to how tidy she wanted this room. With an echoed laugh, she turned her attention to the door barreling open and Fred slipping through the door, “Ah, Mr Weasley, just when I was starting to get worried.”
You turned your back to Fred, not having the energy to deal with him, and you missed the smile he sent your way. “You know I’d never disappoint you, Professor.” You rolled your eyes at the charm lacing through his tone, distancing yourself as far from him as you could and started stacking tables on top of one another. You grimaced at the layer of dust flying around you and tried to swat it with no success. The sound of Fred chuckling made you glance over your shoulder to see him standing there alone, the door clicking on McGonagall’s way out.
“What?” you snapped.
“What?” Fred mimicked you, sitting down on a random chair. He kicked his feet up on a desk, tilting back in the chair slightly and swinging his arms behind his head.
“So what? You’re not going to do anything?” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You got us into this mess.”
“You’ll actually soon realise that if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have got caught.” Raising your brow in his direction, you challenged his statement. “If you weren’t being weird and staying at the library, I wouldn’t have bumped into you and we wouldn’t have been in this office.”
You scoffed, “If you weren’t such a dimwit, we wouldn’t have been in this office.”
“Dimwit, wow,” Fred chuckled, “What age are you, five?”
You stared at him in disbelief, shaking your head and letting out an annoyed sigh, “Just do some fuckin’ work.” You turned on your heels, letting his next sentence fall on deaf ears as you blocked him out. You tried to ignore him as best as you could, the next thirty minutes passing by excruciately slow. It seemed that after five minutes of sitting, Fred got bored of his own company and started stacking chairs and pushing them into the corner with ease.
“Where are you spending the holidays?” Fred asked, breaking the silence.
“Why do you want to know?” you retorted earning a groan from him. You turned your attention to him, watching him lift his navy jumper over his head. Your eyes fell to the exposed area of his abdomen as his t-shirt got caught in the process, you felt yourself becoming flushed and looked away quickly before you got caught. “I’m going to my Grandma’s,” you gave in, finally answering his question.
“I thought Ginny mentioned something about you staying with us.”
“Y-yeah, that was the original plan but I have to go back home,” you mumbled, feeling the sides of your mouth twitch.
“Is everything okay?” Fred asked, he sat on the top of a desk, his legs dangling beneath him. You found yourself closing the gap between your body as the conversation went on, becoming weirdly comfortable with him. This was probably the longest you have ever been in the same room with Fred alone and the hatred that was so often accompanied between you was elsewhere. It felt strange.
You shrugged your shoulders, not knowing what has got into you, why were you opening up to Fred Weasley? “I got a letter from my parents last week, grandma is ill so..”
“That’s understandable,” Fred sighed, his eyes lingering on your features. You avoided his eye contact, feeling the air thicken between you, “Why do you hate me?”
The question caught you off guard and he could tell straight away when your eyes snapped to his and your brows creased together, “What?” you choked out.
“Why do you-”
“No, I heard you,” you snapped, running your fingers through your hair, “What made you ask that?”
Fred pouted, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he thought of a reasonable explanation as to why he was trying to change the dynamics between you. “Honestly, I don’t know, I just want to know why you hate me so much.”
“Fred, why do you hate me?”
“Because you hate me,” he chuckled. His words made you laugh, shaking your head and when he looked up at you, he couldn’t help himself but start laughing as well and soon enough, you both were laughing together in disbelief.
When the laughing died down, you were standing closer to him with a smile tugging on your lips, “You’re a bit of a twat,” you said.
“And you’re a bit of a princess,” he smirked, his brown eyes sparkling in amusement. It was easy to see the differences between Fred and George; in your eyes, they looked completely different. George’s smirk made you want to cradle his face whereas Fred’s smirk made you want to slap it off his face, with your own lips. The thought awoke you from the daze you were in, panic washing over you to see Fred’s features softening. He let out a shaking breathe before he wrapped his fingers around the material of the checkered shirt you were wearing. The startle movement made you stumble forward, but before you could protest, his lips found yours swiftly. For a split second, you felt yourself float away, to a place where there was none of this back and forward conflict. A place where you could relish in one another's company.
It was a happy place, but that was before your eyes shot open and a loud gasp ceased the moment. You pushed him away, wiping your lips with the sleeve of your shirt. "w-what the bloody hell was that?"
You wanted to smack the smirk off Fred's face, the amusement swirling in his eyes irking every bone in your body. "c'mon, it was bound to happen.."
Any ounce of respect that had developed in the last couple of hours that you gained for Fred completely vanished and he could tell by the way you were gawking at him in shock, “It was never going to happen,” you snapped. You stepped away from him, shaking your head.
“y/n, it’s all too expected,” Fred tried to defend him, sitting up from the table he was leaning on, “in all those movies and tv shows you watch, the two that hate each other the most usually fall in-”
“They’re movies, Weasley!” you shrieked, the walls shaking with the tone, “They’re fantasy, they’re… they’re not real life.”
“Why can’t they be?” Fred wondered aloud.
It took you a moment to process his question, your eyes shifting to look at him finally. You watched him gulped, his bottom lip sucked under his teeth, and it all fell into place. The vulnerable look on his face, the pleading in his eyes, made you soften slightly, your heart hammering against your chest. “D-don’t tell me you love me,” you whispered.
Fred’s shoulders lost all the tension they held, drooping down along with the frown on his face that gave you all the answers you needed. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly.
“Fred,” you breathed out, “This is bizarre.”
“You’re acting as if I had a bloody choice in the matter,” Fred hissed, his long fingers running through his hair, brushing it away from his face.
“Of course you do!”
“No, no I didn’t,” Fred stalked up to you, his body towering over you but he wasn’t angry or annoyed, he was desperate, “I woke up one morning and had these sudden feelings for you, but do you understand how hard it was for me when you couldn’t even be in the same room as me?”
You opened your mouth to answer him, but common sense made you see it was a rhetorical question, so you closed it and only stared up at him with wide eyes. There was nothing you could say in this moment to make it better or to make any sense of it. “When?” was all you asked.
“Christmas,” he answered honestly, making your brows cease together, “three years ago.”
“Three years?” you gasped, “Why did you act like you hated me?”
Fred sighed, creating space between your bodies again, “I thought the more I pretended to hate you, eventually my heart would catch up and stop loving you but..” He turned his back to you, swallowing back the heartache he was feeling and placed his hands on the table in front of him, his hands balled into fists. But he only fell in love with you more.
“I’m sorry,” he heard you whisper, the feign touch of your hand on the back of his shirt before it disappeared just as quick. Fred took a few moments to himself, trying to control his breathing and when he turned around to face you, he was met with emptiness. You were nowhere in sight, your bag that rested on the back of a chair gone as well. “Fuck,” Fred mumbled, wanting to scream into the abyss but pulled out his wand and muttered a quick spell to tidy the rest of the office up, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to escape.
Fred hid under the radar for the weeks that passed, hardly being the usual trickster that people were fond of. Everyone that passed the sulking boy in the corridor sent him looks of confusion, some even asked if he was okay to which he brushed them off. George had become worried when it was week three without tormenting any of the professors, and because George was worried beyond reason, you were non-stop hearing about Fred and it pained you knowing that you were the reason for his sudden change in behaviour.
Christmas came and went, the snow started to melt and the leaves were blossoming once again. It was safe to say you were enjoying the peace and quiet in Hogwarts, not having to come up with a comeback every five minutes to fight off the irritation that was Fred Weasley. Deep down, however, there was an abundance of loss. You missed him. It shocked you more than anything but it was true. You missed the sound of his voice, you missed his smart ass comments, you missed him more than you ever thought you would. Maybe there were some underlying feelings and your mind was brought back to the dreams that he occupied, the theme of them made it feel more real.
Sighing into your breakfast, you came to the realisation that morning that you had in fact had feelings for Fred Weasley. “What’s got you mopping?” your eyes lifted to see George sitting down in front of you, no sign of Fred anywhere. The Great Hall was rather crowded for this hour in the morning, there was a buzz in the air.
“I just realised I had feelings for someone,” you admitted loudly, earning every inch of George’s attention, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
“And what are you going to do about them?”
Your eyes connected with your best friend’s stare, your brows creasing together. “You know?” you asked hesitantly, earning an eye roll from George.
“It’s not hard to put two and two together, kiddo,” he chuckled, pouring himself some orange juice, “he’s down at the Quidditch pitch.”
There were so many questions running through your mind but there wasn’t much time. The feelings were overwhelming and you were near sure that you’ve missed your chance with whatever could possibly blossom between you and Fred. You darted from the Great Hall, pushing past crowds of students, ignoring their displeased looks and ran like your life dependent on it towards the Quidditch pitch. When you arrived, your lungs burning and your heart racing, your mood deflated seeing the area completely empty. With your hands on your hips, you tried to catch your breath, sweat beading on your hairline. “Fuck,” you breathed out, turning on your heels but only to halt in your step at the sight of Fred Weasley.
“Looking for me, y/l/n?” he questioned, his voice not as daunting as it used to be. It was flat and soft, something new for him.
“You’re the guy that pretended to hate a girl for years to make her fall in love with you, right?” you asked, a small smirk tugging at the ends of your lips. Fred rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “What if I told you it worked?”
“I’d say buzz off and stop messing with me.”
There was a moment between you and Fred, a moment of understanding where he stared at you from where he stood, the pleading in both of your eyes that showed this was just as awkward for you as it was him. It was different. The change in your interactions was something to get used to, wanting to be around Fred was new. Wanting to kiss him was a thought so out of this world that it blew you away. “I’m sorry I had you sulking for so long.”
Fred chuckled, taking a few steps closer to you until there was just enough space to breath in. For the first time in his life, Fred felt nervous staring at the person that he longed for for so long. “It would have been easier for us both if you just told me you felt the same that day.”
“Life’s never easy, is it?”
“Not when you’re involved,” he winked, the familiar smirk making its way back to his face for the first time in weeks, “I know I didn’t ask permission last time, but..”
“Yes,” you breathed out, this time being the one to wrap your fingers around his collar and pulling him towards you. Your lips pressed against his, the kiss soft and expected this time. Your lips moved in sync, his arms circling around your waist and pulling your closer. The kiss was perfect, and it was something you could get used to.
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slow dancing in the dark (kaider au)
summary: cinder is the palace mechanic and kai is the prince of the eastern commonwealth. even though they could never be together, they start a secret relationship.
(sorry this took 20 million years to write sdjmgfnsjdfk)
the following week after the emperor’s death, the palace was chaos. a funeral had passed, preparations for the upcoming coronation and ball were being worked on at every moment, and the search for a cure was in more demand than ever. no one wanted to see another beloved leader die to the horrible disease.
the city was a mix of grief, worry, and excitement. as much as the commonwealth loved kai, they worried he wouldn’t be a good leader at such a young age, and they didn’t want to see him crack under the pressure. they were hoping the ball would be a break from the darkness. they wanted a night of fun to forget all of the tragedy that their country had been through.
kai was a nervous wreck, of course, and was terrified of the upcoming events. all he wanted to do was lay in bed for days and block out any responsibilities. unfortunately, that was a luxury he couldn’t have. he was going to be emperor in the next few days, whether he was ready or not, and nothing could change that.
while everyone was planning the coronation and ball, kai was coming up with a secret plan. he had to make sure cinder would be able to come to the palace without getting caught by her retched family, and that would require some help. so he ended up telling torin he wanted to bring his “friend” to the ball for his healing and comfort. although his advisor was weary of letting an employee be the special guest, he allowed it once he saw kai’s puppy eyes.
he had his stylist get cinder’s outfit and store it in his bedroom. he hoped she would like it, but he knew she would pick cargo pants over a dress any day. cinder was going to have to tell adri that she was needed at the palace late so she could stay and get ready. everything was coming together, and kai really hoped it would work. it was the one thing he was looking forward to. if everything went well, then they had a chance to really being together, and he wanted that more than anything.
after another day of dreadful meetings, kai was drained. all he could think about was how he was somehow on the same level as these older, powerful leaders, and he would be discussing serious topics and problems with them continuously now. it was weird thinking about how just years go, he was a curious kid, trying to listen and sit it on his dad’s meetings with the same people.
it was getting late, and he didn’t want to feel sad anymore, so he threw on a hoodie and snuck out of the palace. even though he got a stern yelling from torin last time he did this, he didn’t really care, he needed to see cinder.
as excited as he was, he was still filled with dread at seeing the phoenix tower apartments. he hated cinder living there. the image of her sad bedroom and the stories of adri’s abuse haunted him, and his patience was the only thing keeping him from taking her away from all of it.
kai sent a comm to cinder before walking into the lobby, not wanting to freak her out this time. he also didn’t want to risk waking the step monster.
hey, i’m outside your building. can you sneak down here?
a few moments went by before his portscreen chimed with a response.
you’re clinically insane...i’m coming down.
her message made him laugh as he waited by the front doors. he saw cinder in the lobby, wearing his hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. kai smiled at the sight. she opened the door and waved him inside, ushering for him to move quickly. he walked towards her and glanced around, seeing the office man sleeping at the front desk again.
“are you crazy?” cinder whispered. grabbing his hand and leading him to the back staircase.
“according to your comm, yes.” he laughed, not even questioning where she was taking him as they stepped down into a dark room. she flicked on a small light and the metal of tools and work tables dimly gleamed back at them. “is this your secret hideout?”
cinder shrugged, “you could say that.” after she spoke, they faced each other, their smiles softening. it had been a while since they saw each other in person. the past week had been a mess, and they had both been missing each other like crazy, hoping for an opportunity to communicate without using their portscreens. “what brings you here at two in the morning?”
kai thought of where he was an hour ago, alone in his bed, feeling something missing. his heart ached and he wanted to bring it home. “i just needed you, that’s all.” he spoke with a gentle smile.
she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. a sigh of content left his lips, and while he felt lighter already, nothing could stop the weight of grief and uncertainty sitting on his chest. “you’ve got me, kai. always.” cinder whispered.
his fingers wove themselves into her hair, holding her close. he started to think of the ball, of dancing with her in front of everyone, all eyes on them. an idea popped in his head and he began to grin. “cinder?”
“do you know how to dance?”
cinder’s face fell, looking scared and embarrassed in an instant. “oh my stars, i don’t know how to dance.” her eyes were wide with panic as she spoke.
kai laughed and put one hand on her waist, the other grabbing hers and holding it. “it’s okay, i’ll teach you.” he almost laughed at her expression, but he refrained, instead focusing on getting her in the correct position. “you don’t have to be nervous.” he teased.
“i’m worried i’ll crush your foot with my metal one.” she frowned, looking at the floor.
kai let out a little laugh. “you won’t. now come on, dance with me.”
he started to guide her, stepping back and forth, taking it slow. it was proving difficult to dance in a crowded, dim basement but they were making it work. she stumbled a little and he helped her get back into it. she still seemed nervous, like she was sure she wasn’t good enough. but as they kept going, she eased into it, starting to memorize the steps and follow kai smoothly.
“see? it’s not so bad.” kai whispered as he brought her body closer to his.
“because you’re doing most of the work.” she giggled, resting her head on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. she wondered how many times kai had to dress up, pick a dancing partner, and waltz across the palace floor all night. probably hundreds, and he would do it a thousand times more in his reign. she hoped everything would work out and he wouldn’t have to pick another partner ever again.
he rested his head on hers, trying to get as close as possible without messing up their progress. he knew they wouldn’t be able to dance like this at the ball, it would be far too inappropriate, so he took advantage of the moment. as he held her, his heart rushed with warmth, replacing the dark emotions that burdened him all week. “cinder?”
“yeah?” she picked her head up and looked at him. her beautiful brown eyes met his, that small yet alluring smile appearing, and he swore he saw heaven.
his breath caught in his throat, the words resting on the tip of his tongue. every time he looked at her, he knew, but he didn’t say it. before everything started changing, he was afraid that he would lose her, that saying what he felt would make it all too difficult. but now they had this great scheme to stay together forever, to eventually walk down the aisle, to rule a country together. he allowed himself to be truthful and certain now.
“i love you.”
the words filled the silent air as cinder’s eyes widened. he wondered if she ever heard that sentence before. the dancing stopped and she froze, looking shocked. kai hoped he didn’t scare her, knowing he had done enough of that with his marriage and ball proposals.
slowly, she seemed to come back to earth, and that smile reappeared. “i love you, too.”
her voice captured him and he brought her back to him, kissing her passionately. it was like their bond had intensified, like a string that couldn’t break, something that would be with them for the rest of their lives.
once they separated and let air slip between them, cinder laughed. “what?” kai asked.
she shook her head, “we’re crazy. absolutely insane.”
he nodded, “yeah, you’re right, but we’re gonna make it work.”
get it...? they slow danced in the dark!!! :))))
next part is going to be the ball!
taglist: @strawberry-seraph @duskietapp @winterrhayle @stylampa @wwwwyamd @whyiask @i-swear-im-google @phobidawg @plain-jane-mclain @princesspri222 @marialovesdean @maradovan @moon-swoon @nodrianbcyes @janisarkisian @cyborg-martyr-wolf-monarch @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @cerenoya @idkchatie @half-heaven @dawniebb @scxundress @queen-of-self-love @quietintrovertt @invisiblebobs @lavenderbloo @healing-winston-pratt @hearing-in-color @horton-hears-a-who @cosmicnovaflare @a-salting-the-world @angstycatthatlikestea @poptart-boy @grad-school-fool @gatorademachinegun @girlfriendisthemoon @honey-harper-official @coralsclato @bookishfangirl14 @bakergirl13 @addies-invisible-life @f-r-o-p @disco-funk-and-soul09 @lani-sleeps @daydreaming-optimist @the-sunflowerstar @mistydacat @salt-warrior @love-and-anarchy-au
(let me know if u want to be added or taken off <3
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“4:05” // i wrote this thinking ab my twin flame a week or so ago. they always cross my mind between 4-6am. it’s bittersweet. i decided to jot my thoughts down n this poem came about.
it’s 4:05, how u crossed my mind
thinkin ab the times
w ur lips touching mine
eye fuckin n little tickles
slowly down ya spine
sippin, then sobered up
maybe smoke a loosie
just to loosen the stress
not for nothing, i don’t feel nothing
when i’m chillin w tess
it’s deeper than pussy
deeper than money
it’s deeper than sex
when i’m w her
it b feelin like an escape
gives me a rush
prolly molly can’t recreate
no need for LSD when DNT
makes me feel like i’m trippin
how i start feelin
when i’m chillin w tess for a day
so DND is where temporarily stay
don’t call me, fuck it
i put my phone away
ignoring them phone calls today
no i’m not being toxic
i mean maybe —
a kiss or two, then we just stop it
cuz i mean i bean outta pocket
but we’re irrational w no logic
truthfully, just being honest
i’m always gonna want it
n i’m always gonna want u
even times when i don’t want to
4:22, oh how i’m thinking of u
still writing its 4:27,
but if i’m telling the truth
i think ab u 24/7
but to let u know? n go against my pride?
pride won’t let me, so i rather hide
my emotions that i’m holding in
like i do be daydreaming n hoping when
we could relive our moments then
my pride gets involved
n the timing is always off
so i just bury it all
like a treasure chest, cuz w tess
everything is golden
i just imagine for a moment
if we made it back together
we were healthy
we were healing
n we did it passed forever
but that damn pride
n that damn ego
welp here we go
just go talk to other people
stop social media stalking
like when ross was clockin
rachel thru the peephole
just go one some dates,
ur broken up, not ‘on a break’
pride: get tf over her get over it, it’s been a year. it’s her loss.
like when rachel was tryna get over ross, n went to dinner w mark
pride: just take urself shopping, get ur hair done n b a boss
yeah yeah i hear y’all all
i don’t know if u can tell it’s
a hole in my heart
i tried to fill it w psychedelics, whiskey, poetry n art
goofy. there’s a hole in ur asshole too, so what u filling first?
how do u expect to accept love, without u healing first?
who let heart in the chat?
but i respect that,
but listen kat..
ur on a journey u should be proud of.
ur healing wounds, ur self love has gotten LOUDER..
yeah n u can’t stop ur internal hurting
by lovin or bein loved by another person
that’s not how healing works
it’s a lot of discipline,
it gets lonely,
this process fuckin hurts
u don’t need love from anyone else besides urself
hello, it’s me pride— sometimes the hardest pill to swallow
i guess i just want
the idea of something ‘permanent’
not temporary or “borrowed”
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WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGERS
“Now, munch on this when I send you off with a signal which will be me vexing the heck out of Mcgonagall!” The excitement not only builds in his voice but also in his deep brown eyes which started to shimmer, he then flashed her sportive smile. Her petite hand were outstretched as he thrusted a double coloured candy. In defence of her petite hands, he had an impossibly enormous set of hands. She stared at the piece of sweet with bewilderment in her expression as though nothing seems more ridiculous than a piece of candy used as a tool to help their sneak out plan set off.
Fred sneaked a glance at her and noticed that she was starting to fumble with her nails, which only meant one thing, she was nervous. He lifts up his hand to gently caress her dirty blonde hair and kissed the top of her head. He mumbles softly into her ear “Just trust me.” And he gives her a wink just as more students file into the hall with them.
The creak of the oak door gave rise to a sudden panic within Bella’s stomach, it felt as though someone dropped a heavy barbel that restraint all the rebellious side of her to come out. As she took a step beyond the threshold, her soft cloud-like voice whispered to herself, “Here goes nothing, I guess.”.
Bella sat herself three rows from the back, so as to be close enough to the door to save herself from the unknown embarrassment she was setting herself up for by trusting Fred’s bizarre candy while still being able to draw attention to Professor Mcgonagall if something bad did happen to her because of the candy.
In her authoritative yet supportive tone, Professor Mcgonagall started rambling on and on about human transformation. “These people who are able to change their physical appearance at one’s own will are known to be gifted with the power of metamorphmagus.” She paced the length of the room glancing to her left and right to make sure every single student was attending to what she had explained.
The other students had their quills and papers out and were focusing intently to scribbling down the whole mouthful of what Professor Mcgonagall was saying, all the while Bella was retrieving her memory from last week where Tonks was changing up her hair colour from shockingly bright pink to purple.
The ringing her voice cut Bella off from her daydream session, “People are born with the power, rarely though, there are skilled witches and wizards who do learn this power overtime.”.
“Do you think I am a skilled wizard, Professor? What do you reckon?” Teased a voice that rang immense familiarity to Bella. A frown drew itself upon Professor Mcgonagall’s forehead. She halted her journey of travelling around the classroom and turned to face Fred who was sitting at the far front of the classroom. Everyone could tell that she was stunned by his retaliation. She manage to stutter out an answer “I don’t quite understand what you are trying to get at, Mr.Weasley?”.
Fred emphasised and elongated the word “Well” in a high-pitched tone as his eyes darted across the classroom and fell upon Bella. She had not realised until then that this was his misdirection plan and instantly she unwraps the candy from the grip of her right hand.
Eyes bulging and heart racing as her gaze shifted to the double coloured candy. Bloody hell. Fred never told me which side does the trick to make me sick. I am going to hex him! Here goes nothing, I guess.
Quickly nibbling on the orange side of the candy, she prayed intensely that she was chewing on the right side. All at once her stomach felt as though it has been twisted and the contents of it were being forced out.
Thankfully his eyes were glued to her the entire time and abruptly he shouted making the other students jolt in their seat “Professor, Bella seems unwell. Let me send her off to the hospital wing.” With a scowl Professor Mcgonagall objected “Ms.Fortescue appeared fine seconds ago.” Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she squinted them.
“Andddd is now sick. I got to bring her to the hospital wing. Sorry, professor.” He hurriedly collected his belongings and dashed his way to Bella who was utterly embarrassed about being the centre of attention while the nauseated expression drew itself across her face.
The warm palms took hold of her wrist and dragged her out of the class. Leaving the room full of bewilderment.
Their unrestrained laughter echoed throughout the empty halls as heartbeat quickens and breath shortens. The exhilaration they felt as their stomps brave them towards a new adventure together. Hands gripped tightly. They ran for their life. This is what being alive feels like the pair thought.
A grassy and earthy scenery filled the perimeter of their vision. This scene brings back innumerable amount of memories. Fred spotting Bella in a crowd of thousands when he was having a match. Fred bringing Bella and showing her cool tricks. Fred asking Bella to be his girlfriend. Instantaneously the pair was brought back from the flashing sea of memories to reality when Bella puked on the Quidditch pitch. “Way to diffuse the moment.” Teased Fred as Bella averted her eyes upwards to meet Fred who was practically beaming.
“Shove off. Why are we here?” Bella summoned all the power within her to be annoyed by Fred but could only muster a giggle and grin. His arms were outstretched as he pointed to a broomstick in the middle of the field “See that” his voice was tranquil and serious now “you need to trust me.” He gave her a sideways glance with hope illuminating in his aura. She put on a smug face and pestered him “Wellllll, I don’t know. After what just happened.”.
A sly expression fell upon his face “Bet.” He challenged. It startled Bella that the strong built of his upper body suddenly took hold of her legs and carried her body on his shoulder. Minutes ago the two were racing out of trouble and now she was propped on his shoulder while her vision faces where they stood minutes ago. As though his life depended on it, Fred ran faster than usual.
Propped to the nourished grassy field, Bella wobbled and tried to gain balance. “Hop on, then.” Fred’s hands move in an encouraging manner while his head nodded sideways beckoning Bella. Her steps were groggy and paced. At this precise moment Fred realises that she has trust issues with broomsticks. He slides himself onto the broomstick and steals her gaze with a tender expression that he counts on to be the thing that makes her have faith in him.
“Don’t you trust me, love?” He inquired while offering his hand to her. It took her a minute before she decided that she puts all her faith in him. As she takes tiny steps to him, the green eyes never broke the gaze to the brown one. There was an unspoken communication of trust in their eye contact.
She braced herself with courage and ascended the broomstick. He peered to his behind and benevolently said to her “Hold on tight.”. Though her arms may be short, it was the perfect size to wrap around his waist. Head leaning against his back she felt his warmth and goosebumps travel through her body. There was something intimate and sentimental about putting your trust in someone. Not a thing in the world matter as the pair soared off the grounds. Only the presence of each other became of great importance now.
From below clouds appear as though they are one thick dense layer, but as the two soar in between the clouds move constantly, flowing from here and there as though it had a journey. Deliberately the pair acquired a bird eyes view. A tiny tree near the Black Lake reminded her of the whispered conversations that seems days away now. The thrilling adventures in those halls are now ran through by minuscule figures. When one perceives the world this way everything seems small. It makes them realise that they have chosen each other to be a big part of one another’s life.
Far off Hogsmeade was a cliff and Fred was steering the broomstick towards that direction. Bit by bit buildings started to grow larger and larger as the broomstick descended to the ground.
The pair was greeted by the tender breeze, pushing them down to the soft grass, though it was thin it served as a nice comforting mattress where the pair laid down next to each other, above them were the deep blue ceiling and scattered all around it were fluff cottons shaped like various things. The pair took time guessing and teasing one another about the shapes they saw.
He pulled her close to embrace her into a cuddle. In the serene atmosphere, his cuddles felt like a little touch of heaven that was warm and secure. The pair wished they could just extend or even pause the time so they could just stay close forever, feeling right in the embrace. “Love, can I say something cheeky?” His voice never quivered with so much jitters. “Go for it.” She answered him, the eagerness to know increased. “With you, I start to believe that there is nothing to fear in life. I start to believe that there are happy days and love. I feel that I have found someone who is able to turn me head over heels. Makes me feel complete.”
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In due time
Promt: You leave Jackson without telling anyone, only leaving a note behind.
(I’m using female pronouns for this one)
(E,c) = Eye color
Word count: 2190
"A note. That's all she left- a fucking note!" Ellie yelled in frustration while kicking the garbage can clear across the room, having trash spill fly out in different directions but it meant nothing to her, all that mattered was that you were gone and the note barely did enough to explain why. Scratch that, it didn't do anything to explain why you had packed your things left.
"(Y,n) did say she's coming back," Tommy pointed out, causes the enraged nineteen-year-old to glare at him. "B-but who knows how long she'll be." He quickly added, not wanting to end like the garbage can.
"How'd she even get past the gates? Jesse and Carl were up there weren't they? Those two are always so protective of her." Ellie paced around Joel's living room while clenching and releasing her fist trying to calm herself down. The only reason Ellie even stepped foot in Joel's house is that her girlfriend often spent time with him, usually sharing -stolen- traded coffee beans and talking about whatever, so once she found (Y,n)'s note her first thought was to run to Joel's place to see if she could catch her speaking to him before she ran away.
But sadly, her girlfriend was already gone.
"She lied, saying I wanted her to head out on parole by herself since it wasn't too far from Jackson," Maria informed them, shaking her head in disappointment. That girl is like a daughter to her and Tommy and now she's only god knows where.
"Fuck... Fuck!" Ellie shook her hands in anger before plopping down on the couch with a frustrated sigh. No matter how upset she was with (Y,n) she still felt sadness mixed with worry and fear. Who knows what kind of trouble she could be in right now, for all they knew, (Y,n)'s stuck in a shack with infected at her door just dying to sink their teeth in her soft flesh.
Just thinking about that happening made her stomach twist up in fear making Ellie sit her elbows on her knees and held her heavy head.
"'The moon shines the brightest when I'm with you'. What does that mean?" Joel placed the note back on the coffee table, waiting for an answer from the young adult.
"I don't know..." She mumbled, wiping her face downward while looking up at the three adults. "I don't know what it means and I hate that I don't." Ellie's eyes wandered to the fireplace where multiple family pictures and drawings stood but she focused on the one of her pulling (Y,n) in with a side hug, lovingly kissing her cheek with a smile. It made her heartache.
"What if she doesn't love me anymore?" She whimpered.
"Whoa, okay. The note specifically says she does love you, honey." Maria was the first to speak up with urgency.
"Then what does she mean by, 'Sadly, dreams never last'? And right after mentioning our daydream about living on a farm together? I feel like she's saying that will never come true," Ellie stood up with tears in her eyes, picking the note back up. "What if that's why she left?"
"There's no way she would've left you," Joel said to reassure her but was met with a harsh scoff,
"And how would you know?" She challenged. Positive that he's just talking to make her feel better.
"Because when we'd spend time with each other most of the time (Y,n) would talk about is how much she's in love with you, Ellie. Rather it was her remembering something small you did or plain out gushing over the thought of you. So I'm pretty sure she'd never leave you forever, kid." Joel was a little sad to just now hear about their plans to move out of Jackson. Ellie must have told her not to tell him, wanting to keep it secret but all of that was pushed away once her face went from irritated and sad to a smirk and a mildly relaxed expression.
"I agree with Joel with this one, you two are a couple of cards. I suggest we wait for her come back," Tommy noticed the wide-eyed look on Ellie's face and held up his hand, "for one week. If she's not here by then you can take someone to go look with you or go alone."
The young woman turned to Maria for second permission, once the blonde nodded she felt tears start to form again from all the stress and worry that has been coursing through her veins. Ellie gave them all meek goodbyes before slowly trudging her towards their empty shared home.
(Y,n) grabbed the runner by its head, leaned back, and stabbed it a few times to make sure it stayed dead. Just a few days into her journey alone and the homesick poison has already injected itself in her. She missed her bed, and coffee with Joel, she missed the kids at the daycare and her friends but most importantly she missed her girlfriend.
Ellie is everything to this girl.
If Ellie told her to jump she'd simply ask, 'How high?'.
Ellie popped her out of the bubble she was stuck in, always staying by Maria's and Tommy's side like a lost puppy which caused her not to make any friends so the auburn-haired girl decided to take the (H,c) haired girl under her wing. Of course, it didn't happen until Dina forced Ellie to go and talk to the shy girl.
Who knew they'd be sleeping in the same bed five years later?
(Y,n) followed the long uneven path occasionally checking her map and the vine-infested road signs with determination. So many of her dreams have died, mainly the ones about meeting celebrities from the old magazines Tommy had and one day traveling to Washington DC to live in the white house but it was too far and who knows how bad it is all the way out there? That whole city might be crawling with infected, not a single person alive to be seen.
So this is one dream the (E,c) eyed girl is going to make last, no matter how far she had to go or how many infected she had to kill on the way.
Ellie shot awake from her sleep. She knew what the P.S. message meant. How could she fucking forget? It was the day they confessed their love for each other. (Y,n) had set up a movie day for friends, by the time everyone left she had offered to walk the freckled covered face girl home, during that time Ellie had stopped walking, stared at the moon while gathering her thoughts, and said, "If I'm being brutally honest... I think the moon shines brightest when I'm with you." Before she knew it, Ellie had admitted her love for (Y,n) and was more than ecstatic when she returned her feelings.
"How the hell did I forget that?" Feeling as if she had failed her girlfriend by forgetting one of the most important days in their life, Ellie jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants that laid on the floor. She's going to go get you, to bring you home, sleeping in your shared bed felt ten times bigger without having someone to hold and whisper sweet nothings in the middle of the night. Ellie missed your light touches against her scarred tattoo and that goofy smile you'd give her whenever you had a surprise ready back home. Ellie needed to make sure that you were safe, she can't bear losing another person who meant so much to her.
"Shouldn't I come with you? We'd cover more ground," Joel asked her, hoping that she'd say yes, he was still trying to rekindle the lost flame.
"I know you care for her and whatnot but she's not your girlfriend, she's mine, and (Y,n) is my problem," Ellie's words came out harsh, a part of her regretted it once his face dropped. "Joel... I know you want to help but... I don't need your help. I have responsibilities to take care of by myself and she is one of them."
"Yeah... Alright," he nodded, stepping away from shimmer. "Be careful, kid." Of course, she didn't say anything back.
Ellie is more than tired, she left Jackson near midnight and finally found the run-down house you had told her about years ago. This was the place you lived before Jackson, before a patrol group had one day stumbled by and decided to check the house for supplies just to at the end of a shotgun, luckily you didn't shot them. The only people who knew about this is Ellie, Dina, and Kyle who were on a run with (Y,n) a while back and they needed to set up camp and they were nearby.
"No horse..." Ellie sighed, approaching the old home that was now littered with nature on the outside. "But there are horse tracks along with footprints, this is good Shimmer." She patted the tall beast on her neck before walking into the house. It was empty, but a makeshift bed was settled in the living room next to the fireplace with ember still glowing bright angry red. She held her hands over the glowing wood, letting the present warmth soak into her cold hands.
"Ellie?" Her head shot up when her name was called, not sure if she was hallucinating or not the young woman stood there not sure what to do until the front door slammed against the wall revealing her girlfriend, covered in blood. The two women met in the middle, almost suffocating each other with how tight they hugged. Ellie let out strings of curses before pulling back and looking over her girlfriend's body,
"Why is there is so much blood? Where are bleeding from?" (Y,n) grabbed her hands, stopping them from lifting her jacket sporting a goofy smile.
"Babe! Babe calm down. I'm fine, it's not my blood, I just ran into some infected while I was out there." Ellie paused for only a second before wrapping her arms around the love of her once more.
"Do you know how scared I was? That note you left did nothing to help-" she moved away again, "what the fuck even was that note? It made no fucking sense why would you just leave me like that?" Ellie wanted to be upset but instead, the only emotion besides happiness she could muster up was sadness. She spent a lifetime being left behind by the people she loved and for (Y,n) to do the same thing... It made her want to break down right then and there and cry.
"I did say I'd explain it in due time so I guess I do it now," (Y,n) slowly tangled her fingers in between her girlfriends leading her towards the open door. "Come on."
"What? No, you need to tell me-"
"I will but you have to follow me first, I promise everything will make sense." So Ellie followed the girl. No words had been said just loving and confused glances at each other as they rode through the thick forest then to nothing but fields of wheat as far as the eye could see. (Y,n) lead them past a gated before sliding off her horse having Ellie do the same,
"Close your eyes." She demanded, taking her hand in her smaller one. Ellie did as she was told, allowing the shorter female to guide her. Honestly, the nineteen-year-old was nervous, not only because she couldn't see where she's walking but because (Y,n) was so quiet, nothing good ever came out of her quiet girl.
"You can open them," her sweet voice whispered. Breathing in and out a few times Ellie shot her eyes open to be met by a white two-story house with a tall tree in the front alongside a tractor that has been disassembled most likely for spare parts. A light gasp let Ellie's mouth as she walked closer to the house, catching the chicken coop and barn in the backyard, she immediately knew what it was.
"I'm sorry if I made the note a little confusing, I didn't want you to figure out what I was doing," (Y,n) watched the taller woman with curious eyes,"'Sadly, dreams never last'. But I wanted to make sure ours did, took me a while to find a farmhouse that wasn't torn to bits." When Ellie kept silent, worry crept its way into her.
"Hey... Do you-" (Y,n)'s words were but off by Ellie quickly turning around giving her a voracious kiss, holding her close. No words could describe what she was feeling, actually, there is a couple.
"I fucking love you," Ellie told her with such fondness,
"I fucking love you too," (Y,n) chuckled, leaning into her arms as they stared out at the sun causing colors of orange, pink, and yellow to drift across the sky right above the mountains. Ellie looked down at her girlfriend, her signature smirk playing on her lips.
"If I'm being brutally honest, I think the sun shines brightest when I'm with you."
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hiiii!! I was wondering if I could request a haven box matchup? I’m rlly sorry about submitting it there was too much of a word limit in the ask thing :(
First I’m a bi curious female and I would love a romantic matchup with a male :)
Uh ok I’m really fun and like making weird or random jokes a lot, like a lot humor is kinda my coping mechanism haha😗✌️ I’m very respectful and understanding of other people and I’m really supportive. I’m enthusiastic and talkative with those I’m close with but with other people I’m vv quiet. Im also rlly laid back. A lot of people say I’m really kind or “too nice” and I love helping people or making them laugh. I have a bad tendency to hide my feeling and emotions and usually I block my problems with humor. Many have said I’m very ambitious and I have a lot of goals. I also am pretty insecure and I get down on myself way too much because of a lot of reasons but mostly bc of my high expectations and that I’m a perfectionist. I love sweets
I like goofy or weird people because then I can be myself and I like doing spontaneous and fun things. However I am an introvert so even though I love enthusiastic people, I get drained out when I hang out with too many people for too long. I also don’t like judgmental people, especially if they judge things that others can’t control or others dreams.
Hobbies: I really love sports and I’m pretty athletic. I play volleyball and think it’s fun but my main sport is definetly basketball. I really love drawing and I also love writing. And music is kind of the love of my life and you will always see me daydreaming with my earbuds in just listening to music.
Appearance: I have very long hair that’s really light brown, greenish gray eyes, and rounder features. I’m around 5’8 1/2 and I have an hourglass body but with MUCH more on my thighs and butt😃🤚I and athletic body type and I would say I look ✨sturdy✨and I’m pretty thin everywhere but my thighs and butt like I’ve said before. I value comfort in clothes at the moment so sweatpants and hoodies or just oversized stuff are kinda my go to. However I do want to have a better style which would kinda be a mix of “art hoe” and “alt girl” ahsjhja
Some fun facts about me:
*I love sweets, especially chocolate, and I love nighttime.
*I’m constantly daydreaming and doodling and I get called out on it by my friends.
*I want to be an animator for Disney Pixar when I’m older and My goal is to go to cal arts for college.
*A couple of my favorite songs are eight wonder (lemon demon), rue (girl in red), any mother mother song (but especially “oh Ana”) , and rhinestone eyes (gorillaz)
Ahh sorry I didn’t realize how long this was, thank you so much!! <33
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Dream catcher loading...
*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. *. •.°
Hello and Welcome my Starlight!
The Haven box includes:
- Match up
- Sun drop
- Old habits die hard
- His lil' mama
I'd match you up with
Nishinoya Yuu, Karasuno's Guardian
The reasons why I paired you
- SUGAWARA WON'T LEAVE MY MIND AND HE'S ONE OF THE RUNNER UPS XD
- My first thought was Nishinoya but Ushijima and Sugawara said "No ❤️"
- But in the end, I choose Noya!
- You both would just be so cute! Like Yes please
- To him it doesn't matter that you are taller. HE LOVE YOU FOR YOUUUUUUUUUU
-He might be loud and energetic but he really respects your boundaries
- Though, you might have to take care of him more than the other way around, it's a good dynamic
- VERY BALANCED DYNAMIC RIGHT HERE
- You both if often just joke around and it's entertaining really
Old habits die hard
Random head canons
-You and Noya would have two day SPECIFICALLY for date time and/or Sharing time
-Those two days depends per week and schedule but there has to be TWO days
-In these days you both would just share your thoughts and feelings
-Noya, being a libero, has a tendency to be observant so he’ll know when you’re down
-He’ll joke around with you to lift up the mood but he will turn serious if needed
-C U D D L E S are a must for dates!
-He doesn’t care that you are taller than him, he actually loves it! (He loves being big spoon tho!)
-JUST LET HIM LOVE YOUUUUUUUU Like please
- He will do anything for your attention, (please just pay attention to him)
His Lil' mama
“Lil’ mama! My team wants to meet you. Up for it?” Noya asked his taller lover. He then wrapped his arm around her waist as waited for her answer. “If you want too, sure! I don’t mind,” She replied with a smile. “That’s great! Let’s go!” He then said as he dragged her to the gym. “Wait! Like right now!” She replied as she tried to keep her balance. “Yes! Like right now~” Noya said enthusiastically. Some students stared at the taller female in pity. Nishinoya maybe a well of guy but with someone so shy at first glance, it’s hard to imagine their relationship. “Oh c’mon now babe! Don’t back on me now,” Noya said as he stopped. “I just really want to prove to the guys that you exist and not just a replacement for our goddess!” He declared as he held her hand. “I love you more than the goddess!” He added as he kissed her hand.
The greenish grey eyed girl blush a bit and looked away. The whole school can see how whipped Noya is for this girl. As much as it was a surprised for everyone on how Noya got a girlfriend but at least now Kiyoko has one less thing to worry about. “Let’s go rolling thunder to the gym so I can show you off to my pals,” Noya said as they continued but with a slower pace this time. Once they both reached the gym, everyone froze as they realized that the female was way taller. “That’s just sad. Noya is shorter than his own girlfriend,” Tsukkishima teased. “AND SO? I LOVE IT THAT WAY!” Noya barked. “This is my lil’ mama! My love! MY ONE AND ONLY SO DON’T STEAL HER AWAY!” He added as he smirked. Now his girl was behind him, kind of regretting the decision of coming but it made him happy so it was worth it. “Hello there,” She said with a small wave.
“WOW! NOYA-SAN! HOW DID YOU GET SUCH A BEAUTIFUL GIRL??” Hinata asked as he looked at the female. As time went by, the libero and his lil’mama got along with everyone. It was a bit strange at first as Noya has a girl now. And he isn’t all over Kiyoko like he used to but he still is Noya. The team enjoyed the presence and aura of the two. It was somewhat comforting. Once the whole get together and practice ended, Noya walked his girl home. “So, what did ya think? I’m pretty cool on court, ya?” Noya asked as he looked at her eyes. “You were awesome~ Can I watch your practice from now own?” She asked as she hook their arms together. Noya blushed a bit and smiled brightly. “Of course you can, Babe! No one’s stopping you,” He then said as he kissed her cheek. “Plus, having you there, I have my own cheerleader to keep me motivated,” He added as he chuckled. “So I won’t be a distraction?” She asked teasingly as she remembered what happened a few moments ago.
“OKAY LOOK I WAS ADMIRING YOUR BEAUTY AND FORGOT I WAS ON COURT!” Noya said as he huffed. “Plus, I receive the ball anyway. So I did my job,” He added with a soft smile. And then he knew that she was the one for him. Forever and always, that’s what he believes.
I'm sorry if it took so long! I was at school. But I hope you enjoy this one and thanks for requesting~
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after the honeymoon fades | min yoongi (m)
Growing distant after being together for a long time seemed inevitable, until you realize the truth you and Min Yoongi are too stubborn to come to terms with: you needed each other more than ever.
— pairing: min yoongi | female reader
— genre: one-shot, established relationship au, producer!yoongi, college professor!reader
— length: ~13k
— rating: 18+
— contains: angst, explicit smut (oral f. receiving, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cock-warming, semi-public sex, tender but feral *wink wink*), pining, mentions of burn out, mentions of speculated infidelity, strong language, a cameo of big brain namjoon and student jungkook with a noona kink.
— soundtrack: “honeymoon fades” by sabrina carpenter | “truth is” by sabrina claudio | “trivia: seesaw” by suga | … and more!
author’s note: hi hi! it’s been a while since I last posted something. I’ve been in a writing slump lately, but with my lovely friend’s birthday being today, I decided I would push past it and write yet another installment of a big chunky fic! this fic is loosely based on the song, “honeymoon fades” by sabrina carpenter. there is also a mention of “trivia: seesaw” by suga as it plays a role in the plot.
with that said, I’m dedicating this to the most wonderful twinnie in the world @sketchguk! I hope you had the loveliest of birthdays today and thank you for being you. I love you the most and thanks for looking the other way when I told you the fic concept right before I decided it would be your gift hehe.
Life after college seemed to be a quintessence of ironies for you. To the eyes of outsiders, you were strong-willed. You were steadfast, even when going through almost a decade of university and countless teacher’s assistant internships should have burnt you out at some point. You were so assured of yourself and what you wanted to pursue; it was almost like you could get through anything that came your way since you had complete, unwavering control of your life.
Then again, not everyone sees what happens behind closed doors.
You were living the life you flawlessly paved yourself since day one. You had the best support system life could give you — from your parents who supported you as long as you were happy, to your friend circle, composed of determined individuals with semi-chaotic tendencies. You landed your dream job working as a Calculus professor at a university, which provided income that was steady enough for you to move out of your parents’ home in less than a year.
You’ve achieved every goal you made for yourself during this period in your life, but for some reason, you felt incomplete. You felt as if you were missing a part of you even when it’s still physically there, clinging to you but not benefiting you whatsoever. However, you hang onto that last thread of hope that one day, the pain will be worth it. You hope that one day, you’ll be able to find a glimmer of light in the middle of the bitter darkness that surrounds you, a darkness that was once comforting.
This particular Saturday goes on like any other. You’d be up and running by seven a.m. You’d be making your cup of coffee to-go and heading out the door to get to your office by eight, speed walking the entire time and acting as if a student were already waiting for you outside of your door. Regardless of how many of your students show up to your office hours (which, considering it’s a Saturday, is not very many unless it was finals season), you somehow always return to your home by three p.m. at the latest.
Your life has followed this same pattern for the past eleven weeks — yes, you’ve been counting, and that’s mainly because it wasn’t always this way. You weren’t always living life moderately, doing just enough to survive the days as they come. You didn’t always have this feeling of emptiness and dread each time you come home to an abode that was in the exact same state as you left it hours prior. You’d be aware of the far-from-ideal circumstances that you never saw coming, but you’d never do anything about it.
When the cycle repeats itself today, on the day of your fourth anniversary with Min Yoongi, you think you’ve just reached your limit.
It didn’t help when everything that could have possibly gone wrong had happened today. On top of biting your tongue several times as your student just wouldn’t grasp the concept no matter what, you come home with an empty stomach, unable to grab a bite outside as you had forgotten your wallet. Kicking off your heels relieves some of your discomfort at least, yet when you spot your wallet sitting alone on your dining room table, your disgruntled sigh sends you back to your scheduled misery.
When you take a seat on your sofa and glance around your living space, you take note of how everything is exactly the same as you had left it before, as per usual. You’ve gotten used to this routine since it started a few months ago, yet today, your heart drops because everything is the same as you left it. Especially today, when you’re supposed to be celebrating the day Yoongi became just a little more significant in your life, but you suppose it’s the people that you care for the most that can also hurt you the most.
You’re conflicted because you don’t feel like you had a reason to be upset at Yoongi. He didn’t do anything to warrant this reaction from you, but that was the problem: he didn’t do anything. He didn’t wake up in the break of dawn to pepper you with kisses all over your face until you woke up. He didn’t leave any flowers on the table with a cute note. He didn’t even leave you a text message acknowledging what today was, let alone leave you a message at all.
Yoongi didn’t do all of the things he used to do for you.
But of course, why were you surprised to say the least? It’s been this way for almost three months now. If he didn’t put any effort prior to today, you shouldn’t have expected any change now. If anything, you’d actually be surprised if he did anything for you, seeing as you’ve never been in the same room at the same time unless it was late at night when the whole world was asleep.
You reach into your purse for your planner, desperate for any kind of distraction when you feel the onslaught of emotions bubbling up in your throat. This always seemed to be the distraction to fall back on when you felt the stress arise, an equivalent to an addictive drug as some may call it. Drowning yourself in your work hasn’t failed you just yet, though you’re yet to become aware that you can no longer justify staying productive when it starts to render self-destructing results.
Your discomfort is once again numbed out as you flip through the pages to today’s date. Seeing the long list of to-do’s on this day alone would typically overwhelm a person. To you, it’s oddly comforting to know there’s always something for you to do to keep yourself from thinking about him, to keep yourself from thinking about his absence.
But today, it’s a little harder for you to brush it off. There was something etching at the back of your mind, desperate for you to drop everything you were doing. Was it loneliness? Exhaustion? Guilt? You don’t know just yet.
Before you know it, your stationary is long forgotten on your coffee table as your eyes are glued to your phone. On your screen sits Yoongi’s contact information, where a picture of you and him smiling together at a restaurant covers the majority of your screen. It feels like forever ago since this photo was taken, but in reality, it was probably the last known evidence of you two being happy together. It was odd to look at this again and feel an overwhelming hesitancy considering you were still in a relationship with Yoongi — almost as if you may as well have broken up.
You dwell on this predicament for an unnecessarily long time until you mindlessly take the leap, tapping the call icon and bringing your phone to your ear. The first ring of the line echoes in your head, bringing you out of focus as you prepare to hear his voicemail.
To your utter surprise, that’s not what you hear.
“Hello? ____?” Yoongi’s raspy voice catches your attention, jolting you out of your daydream. It’s been a while since you last heard his voice, and even if it was through a phone call, you could still take hint of the exhaustion laced in his tone even when you hardly recalled what it sounded like.
“Hey…” You stammer. You truly didn’t expect him to pick up your call, and now that he’s on the other side of the line, your mind is drawing blanks.
You can hear Yoongi’s sigh and the creak of his office chair, and unlike you, he doesn’t hesitate to shoot out his next words. “What do you need?”
Your hands were shaking so much that you had to tighten your grip on your phone. He had forgotten — your heart shouldn’t have sunken this hard because you anticipated it from the beginning, but it does, shattering on its way down and piercing everything in its path.
But you don’t tell him that. You didn’t want to get him on edge any further, even though this phone call alone might have already set him off. You open your mouth to speak, and what should have been ‘what time are you coming home tonight?’ instead comes out as, “Are you coming home tonight?”
There’s silence on the other side, followed by a hum as the man ruminates on his tasks for the day, a hum that, unbeknownst to him, is taunting to you. “I, um, have to finish putting together this demo by tomorrow. I’m nowhere close to done, so…”
“Oh,” You say dejectedly. Yoongi was beating around the bush, and you don’t know if it hurt more that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer to spare your feelings, or rather, to save his ego.
Yoongi is taken back by your lack of response. “Something on your mind?”
“No. It’s just…” You let out an unamused laugh, bowing your head despite him not being able to see your reactions. You contemplate telling him about today’s date, giving him subtle hints at the very least. Your uncertainty gets the better of you, and you’ve somehow convinced yourself that a silly milestone was far down the list of Yoongi’s priorities at the moment. “Today’s been a rough day and I… felt like calling.”
That’s all you say. Your eyes unintentionally squint and your free hand clenches in your lap, and you subconsciously pray for Yoongi to do the right thing; whether it would be remembering today’s date, inviting you to stay with him at his Genius Lab, or even just words of reassurance, you’d take anything that assured you that you and Yoongi still had something going. Then again, what was right anymore?
All you can hear is Yoongi’s empty laugh and the tapping of his pen on the desk before he speaks again. “Me too. You do something you love so much that it starts to feel like work. But I guess it’s all a part of life, huh?” His tone lowers just before you could register its weariness. You almost had him again, yet he reverts back from his brief period of transparency to wrap up the conversation. “Anyways, I have to get back now. Try to relax, watch a movie or something. Don’t wait up on me, okay?”
You lean back on the couch, shutting your eyes defeatedly. This was not the response you had hoped for, having Yoongi empathize with you and slap on a flimsy word of advice. You suppose it could have been worse.
“Okay,” You exhale. “See you later, hopefully. I love you.”
Unnerving silence fills the line, and if you hadn’t pulled the phone away from your ear sooner, you swear you’d lose the last bit of sanity you had. Though, just before you hang up, you hear Yoongi break the air with, “Love you too.”
You’re left staring at your cell phone the exact same way as when you started. You may as well not have called Yoongi at all. There was nothing to gain from that brief conversation other than the comfort of hearing his voice again, and if anything, you felt even worse than you did before.
However, instead of dwelling on your suffering relationship, you recall his short-lived moment of confidentiality. It didn’t comfort you in the slightest that he could only relate to your feelings rather than provide any sort of support, but this opened up a whole new perspective on the situation, that perhaps he was just as aware of it as you were. He was just as confused about how to go about this obstacle as you were.
This new light unexpectedly gives you the boost you need to make one last effort. Within seconds, you’re rushing out the door, hellbent on saving this relationship from total doom even if it meant playing with fate itself.
An uneasy feeling sits at the pit of your stomach as you walk down the sidewalk amidst the bustling city. It isn’t particularly due to the fact that you were alone, or that you were surrounded by groups of teenagers and young adults, enjoying each other’s company and the carefree life they’re living. Meanwhile, you were constantly on edge, wondering why you’ve made such a rash decision to break out of your normal routine for something that may be a lost cause.
However, the irony was that this was once a part of your routine. You’ve walked down this path several times. You knew this route like the back of your hand, and even when it’s been months since you last visited the destination, you know the feeling of familiarity would always remain tattooed in your heart.
After all, it used to be your and Yoongi’s favorite spot.
Yaya Tea sits at the corner ahead, yet the smell of stir-fried noodles and seafood hits you from a good distance away. Likewise, the sudden wave of nostalgia crashes into you all at once, leaving you plagued with multiple thoughts. Most of them seem to follow the same theme of hesitation. Shouldn’t you be happy to be back after so long? The food was great, and the fruit and milk teas were especially phenomenal. Ever since your first visit back in your freshman year, this spot was filled with fond, happy memories, yet as you approach the entrance, your breath is taken away for all the wrong reasons.
The weight in your gut gets heavier once you step foot into the shop, as if your apprehensiveness has increased tenfold. Not much has changed since you last visited — there may have been very subtle tweaks to add to the aesthetic of the store, but that was pretty much it. There wasn’t much room for any change anyways, considering the store was as big as a cluttered studio apartment.
It seems you came right after the midday rush, seeing as the environment has quieted down save for the chatter of the very few patrons sitting nearby. It leaves the perfect opportunity for the employee behind the counter to greet you immediately as you walk in, a young man who has somehow managed to effortlessly commit your orders to memory and establish a connection after just three visits.
“____! What’s up?” He smiles cheekily at you, straightening his cap as he leans over the countertop with his fist out. “I was just thinking about how I haven’t seen you in a long time. Was almost convinced that you moved without telling me.”
“Well, I haven’t. Just been busy,” You beam, meeting him halfway with your fist that’s significantly smaller than his. “Still not giving yourself at least one weekend to take it easy, huh?”
“You know it, baby,” Namjoon banters, mindlessly fidgeting with his pen. “Haven’t had one weekend off since graduating and I don’t plan on changing that anytime soon.”
You tilt your head and stare incredulously back at him. “Really? You already work a forty-hour week at your full-time job alone. Doesn’t that wear you out? What kind of work do you do again… computer programming? Or coding of some sort?”
“IT consultant. Good try, though,” He shoots with an amused look. “Anyways, I can see why you’d be worried, but I’m fine. This job gives me some pocket money, and I got myself a good support system and a hobby to keep me sane. Plus, the debt from university is kind of forcing me to keep going at a rhythm, you feel me?”
You nod, maintaining a neutral composure while a wave of chagrin washes over you. Because yes, you understood Namjoon. You were practically in sync with him in terms of life accomplishments, all complications aside. Yet, what differentiates you two is your perspectives of life as it comes, and it seems to heavily work against your favor.
“Anyways,” Namjoon’s voice booms, pulling you back to reality. He straightens himself and lifts his index finger over the screen in front of him. “Getting the usual? For you and Yoongi?”
“Ah, yes! My Yakisoba and a large Boyfriend, and for Yoongi...” The words flow effortlessly out of you at first, but then suddenly they stop coming. You immediately regret taking the daring route of spitting out your order even when Namjoon knew it by heart. What was the point of doing this anyways? To make sure you still remembered Yoongi’s favorite beverage and entree? To validate yourself as his partner?
You struggle to find an item that stands out when you scan the menu ahead of you, and just when you thought you were doing a good job keeping your internal scuffle on the down low, Namjoon sees right through you. “The beef udon and black milk tea?”
Yes. That sounds right. Should have known. You let out a breath, not realizing you were staring anxiously at the man until he gives you a confused look. Not wanting to seem suspicious, you nod with a strained smile. “Right. That, for Yoongi.”
You were usually good at putting on a facade for the crowd, or as you’d like to put it, ‘faking it until you make it.’ It works most of the time, and to many others, they would never be able to see past your chirpy attitude whether it’s from ignorance or by choice.
But there was something Namjoon wasn’t: stupid.
“Huh,” Is his immediate response when he finally connects the dots. An uncomfortable silence sits between you as he puts in the order, but oddly enough, it takes him longer than it usually does. His lack of response leaves you hanging with a troubled look until you see that the total on the point-of-sale screen has been zeroed out.
“Um…” You point over at the screen in question. “Joon, there’s no need for that. Please, just charge me for it.”
“It’s on the house,” He insists, not giving you a chance to negotiate with him any longer. “Care to stick around ‘til my ten is over?”
It comes across more as a statement rather than a question, considering Namjoon already has his back turned to get your drinks going by the time you realize what he’s asking of you. You couldn’t hide your confusion, but nonetheless you step aside to take a seat by the window, the anticipation eating you up inside until you could no longer stop your hands from fidgeting in front of you.
Namjoon is beside you within a matter of minutes, carrying your drink in one hand and his hibiscus tea in the other. You promptly thank him for the beverage and get to work on taking your first sip, though you can’t help but feel conscious of the way he observes you, as if he were reading you like a book. You know he’s curious about Yoongi, and you’ve already prepared the “busy with work” card that you’d always tell your friends and family, structured in a way that guaranteed the topic would be dismissed right away.
To your surprise, that’s not the first thing Namjoon asks you about.
“How’s your job treating you?” He inquires, leaning an arm on the countertop and tilting his head slightly. “Calculus professor, right? I imagine it must be a lot to juggle around during your first few years, especially when you’re still young.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you don’t comprehend the stiffness of your body until you relax in your seat. “Everything’s… fine,” You respond warily, flashing a timid smile for good measure. “It’s a lot to get used to, I can confirm that. Even before I got the job, I was just learning my way through organizing and planning lessons as a TA, and I was surprised when my alma mater offered me a position at such a young age. I guess that’s what’s been motivating me to keep pushing my potential.”
“Doesn’t that wear you out?” Namjoon mocks you, and he immediately leans back when you lift your head to throw a menacing glare. “Kidding. You know, this job obviously means the world to you. You’ve been working hard to get where you are from the very beginning. But, don’t forget to give yourself a break every now and then. Take your mind off of work and spend some time with your loved ones.”
You smile, mindlessly swirling the contents of your cup. “Don’t worry too much. I’m doing okay, promise.”
“Are you?” His tone raises, and when you turn your head back to him, you see the concern etched on his features. “I mean, not to accuse you of already knowing the advice but not taking it. But sometimes it’s good to hear the reassurance out loud, you know? Keeps you grounded.”
“Yeah,” It comes as an automatic response at first, but when the words finally sink into your mind, you think you understand why your relationship with Yoongi wasn’t directly addressed. Whether this was intentional or not, you’re amazed at how pliant Namjoon’s words of wisdom seemed to be.
“Anyways, I gotta head back to work now,” He stands from his seat, taking one last sip of his half-finished tea before tossing it in a waste bin. Before heading behind the counter, Namjoon places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to him, a friendly gesture that’s oddly comforting. “I know you and Yoongi can work this out. It may seem like you two are on the way to breaking things off, but it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it first.”
He leaves you to digest his words while he obtains the rest of your order. When he comes back minutes later, you’re in that same stunned position as he had left you, wondering how it was so easy for you and Yoongi to fall apart, yet putting things back together was just out of your reach.
You never fully grasped the concept of time passing so quickly until you find yourself treading down memory lane. In this case, it would be the path to the building of Yoongi’s record label, one that sits in a business district just outside of the city. It’s only when you step out of your vehicle to take in the vastness of this building alone do you realize that it really has been three months since you’ve visited. Quite frankly, you’re amazed that you’ve allowed this much time to blow over like a gust of wind, but you suppose you can’t pay mind to it when you purposely keep your hands full time and again.
Regardless, you still remember the way to Yoongi’s studio — through the lobby to the elevators, up to the fifth floor, and left into the hallway where his ‘Genius Lab’ plaque sits outside of his studio at the very end of the hall. There was just that one problem of passing through the employees as an obvious outsider with takeout in your hands, but at least you didn’t have to worry about needing to interact with them to ask for directions. Whether it was because they couldn’t be bothered or they still remembered you (which would surprise you more if they did), running past the employees was a seamless process.
The uneasiness that sits in your stomach increases as you get closer to his studio, turning into a full-fledged perturbation when you’re a few feet away from the door. Surprising Yoongi with his favorite food at his workplace seemed to be a good idea at first, but now your gut is betraying you, convincing you that coming unannounced may disturb Yoongi more than help him. Or worse — you may witness something you weren’t supposed to see.
You shake your head, shrugging the negativity out of you altogether. You came here in hopes of repairing the broken bond between you and Yoongi, and you had to be in your best mindset to make some progress, especially considering you won’t know where Yoongi’s mind is until you take the first step. With your head held high, you break from your stalling and surge for the door.
But not even one step in, the sound of a female’s gasp resonating out of the room causes you to come to a halt.
A look of horror is plastered all over your face and your breath gets caught. You don’t recall hearing any other sounds coming from the studio as you approach, and you definitely don’t hear anything else following the noise. You doubt yourself for a second, checking the plaque to make sure this was Yoongi’s studio you were outside of, and indeed it was.
The feminine voice breaks the silence again, this time with more coherent sentences now that you’re standing directly outside of the door. “Fuck! It’s… so good!”
“Hm? You really like that?”
“Oh yes! A lot!”
Just like that, your face scrunches in displeasure when you hear your partner’s voice mixed in with these suggestive remarks. Clouded in an unpleasant mix of confusion and anger, you don’t register your hands coming to a clench until part of your tea escapes from the straw and spills onto your hand. It was in a dangerous place, and perhaps it was better to take a breath and calm yourself first. However, against your better judgment, you go for the door anyway.
There’s no way. There’s no fucking way he’s been seeing someone behind my back the entire time. There’s no way—
“Oh, shoot,” the words slip from your lips in a whisper, ultimately announcing your presence. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and you almost want to run away and hide from the rest of the world.
Yoongi is with a female — that much is true. The two of them are huddled shoulder-to-shoulder in front of Yoongi’s computer, sharing one end of his headphones as the audio mixer sits on the screen. Their session comes to a pause when you first speak, with the man quickly lowering his headphones to the desk as his head whips back to you.
“____,” Yoongi mutters with his mouth agape, already taking measures to distance himself from the female. He looks troubled as he stares at your figure with furrowed brows, then darts to the bag of takeout and drinks in your hands. “What are you—”
“Ah!” The female interjects and comes to a stand, walking towards you with an enthused grin. “You must be Yoongi’s girlfriend.”
If you weren’t already confused from what you witnessed before, you were bewildered now. You try to conceal it with a smile, but you know you probably aren’t doing a good job at hiding your discomfort. “Yes. And you are…?”
You don’t mean to speak it in such an ill-mannered way, especially when this girl is clueless to the tension radiating between you and your partner. She thankfully remains oblivious, sending you a polite nod and introducing herself. “I’m Soohyun. I’m one of the producers of the company, just like Yoongi,” She turns her head back momentarily, pointing over at the computer with her thumb before whipping back to you. “Um, I hope you don’t get the wrong idea or anything. I was just lending him my vocals for his single which, by the way, is amazing. I’m sure you’ll love it when you get the chance to listen to it.”
“Soohyun-ah, sorry. But is it fine if we cut our session early?” Yoongi intercedes. You should be relieved that he chooses to kick his coworker out between you two. Instead, you feel guilty for interrupting them in the middle of their work.
“Oh, sure,” Soohyun exhales without a second thought. After quickly gathering her materials in her backpack, she says her farewell to Yoongi. You expect her to leave without another word to you, but to your surprise, she stops right in front of you. “Hope to see you around. It was nice to finally meet you!”
Your mouth hangs open in lieu of words, your mind so jumbled that the only things you’re able to speak are unintelligible stutters. You scan the female’s figure up and down as she retreats down the hall. Even though it’s been established that their relationship is clearly professional, you can’t help but feel a tinge of inferiority towards that girl. Perhaps it was because she sees him on a daily basis — significantly more than you, his partner, have seen him in the past few months.
“What brings you here?” Is the first thing he asks, and when you direct your attention to the man, he stands before you with his hands tucked in his pockets. He’s clad in his usual attire of his black pullover and jeans, a clean cut outfit that greatly contrasts the being that wears it. Even in the low light of the studio, it isn’t hard to make out the subtle frown and the dark bags underneath his eyes. And… have his jawline and cheekbones always been that chiseled? Or did he lose weight as well?
Despite the sinking feeling from the realization, you manage a weak smile and lift the bag of takeout towards him. “I just thought you’d be hungry and I didn’t have anything else to do anyways, so I stopped by our favorite place,” You wave the bag back and forth when Yoongi doesn’t respond right away, trying your best to keep your spirits high. When it’s clear that he isn’t going to budge, you bring the handles of the bag towards his hand and wrap them around his fingers, taking the opportunity to relish in the feeling of his touch, one you’ve spent so long yearning for. “Come on, it’s your favorite. The beef udon and black milk tea!”
Thank goodness for Namjoon, or else you would have winged it, gotten the order completely wrong, and made a fool of yourself.
Yoongi eyes the bag dubiously, his eyebrow already cocked upwards as to figure out what would be an appropriate response to you bringing him food. It’s definitely been a while, not only since you’ve visited him in his studio and brought him food, but since he’s seen you in general. After seeing your giddy smile and hearing that you got him his favorite order, it wasn’t that hard to figure out anymore.
When Yoongi returns the smile and nods his head towards his couch in the corner, you swear you feel something igniting in you. Was it love? Not quite. Hope was the better word for it, and even if it was just a small amount, it was a start.
Once more, you’re reminded of just how long it’s been since the fall.
Coming to Yoongi’s studio with the purpose of repairing your broken bond was way easier said than done. It was a given, especially when you’re dealing with probably the most introverted man you knew. Yoongi wasn’t one to voice his thoughts to begin with, and it was silly for you to assume that it would change now even when there was so much at stake.
The silence was always unsettling; you had endured this for months, and if anything, you’ve grown used to it. But now that he’s right in front of you, back facing you as he stuffs his face with takeout (possibly as a means to keep his mouth full to avoid the inevitable), you don’t know where to start.
“Thanks for the food,” Yoongi suddenly breaks the air, bringing you out of your daze. He takes another sip of his milk tea before abandoning the food altogether, swiveling his chair to face you. “I didn’t realize I skipped breakfast today, so I appreciate it a lot.”
You flash a smile before bringing the straw of your drink to your lips. It was just a simple ‘thank you’, yet hearing it come from him was unusually warming, maybe even reassuring.
“No need to mention it,” You croon, but then you recall what he had just revealed a moment ago. Your lips fall to a pout when you study his tired figure once more, his physique strongly proving his point that he expresses so casually. “I hope you’re remembering to take some breaks in between. I know you’re really dedicated to your work, but your health and wellbeing comes first, you know?”
Yoongi shrugs. “I’ll be okay.”
“I mean it,” You express firmly, catching the man’s attention as he looks back in apparent surprise, whereas your expression remains grave and unwavering. “I care about you, and I want you to be happy more than anything. But please don’t forget to look after yourself.”
The words ‘I love you’ almost slip out of your mouth, but you refrain. You’re testing the waters first, your uncertainty of his stance on the situation getting the best of you. It’s hard to figure out what Yoongi is thinking about based on his expression and body language alone, but then again, it may have always been this way.
His mysteriousness was what you loved the most about him. Who knew that it would be the one thing to drive you into insanity, trying to figure out if this lost love was worth finding again?
“Don’t worry, I will,” Yoongi assures after a moment of silence, averting his gaze from you to look back at his desk, where along with the takeout, his mess of electronics and song sheets are sprawled across the surface. Before resuming his work, he looks back at you, the corners of his lips twitching up slightly. “Feel free to come by whenever you want, by the way. It’s always nice to have company.”
You hum in agreement, watching as he turns back to his computer to continue his work. Your heart swells with the progress that was made that you don’t think to acknowledge the forgotten anniversary.
You take advantage of the opportunity when it presents itself to you, and you find yourself dropping into Yoongi’s studio more often. It doesn’t necessarily happen right away, considering you still had housework to do, lectures to run and office hours to fulfill. You’re somewhat grateful at first; even when you want to patch things up so badly, you wanted to give him as much space as possible. After all, he was still at work and had stuff to get done.
But Min Yoongi was your drug, and it doesn’t take much for you to realize that all of your worries wash away when you’re with him.
You spread out the next few visits to every other day, and depending on how your lectures go and if anyone were to attend your office hours, you would either cook up something small at home or make a trip to Yaya Tea on the way to the studio. Slowly but surely, your uncertainty starts to fade until you no longer second-guess your decision to come see him. Seeing Yoongi’s eyes light up each time you arrive eggs you on, and sure, there’s still the little things to deal with before you can be certain you and Yoongi were back on track, but you’ll get there when you get there.
Right now, at the start of a new week, that’s the last thing on your mind. When you come into the studio with your homemade fried rice in hand, the first thing you see is Yoongi burying his face in his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration as the avalanche of song sheets and crumpled papers make the man look smaller in comparison.
Eyeing him with concern, you knock on the doorframe before stepping in. “Yoongi?”
The man jumps in his seat, lifting his head momentarily to peek over at you. “Oh, hey,” Yoongi speaks nonchalantly before he’s back to his self-deprecation, running his fingers through his disheveled hair once more.
“Everything okay?” You inquire, immediately realizing the stupidity of the question because obviously, Yoongi was stressed about something.
Yoongi doesn’t react when you come up next to him. He knows you’re staring at the mess of rejected song lyrics, trying to make sense of the situation. Letting out a sigh, he’s quick to dismiss the problem because the reality was that you could never fully understand. “Nothing. Just having a bit of a block. That’s all.”
“You’re… writing a new song? Already?” Your tone raises in surprise, picking up a piece of paper and scanning its contents, only finding illegible words that were messily crossed off. Glancing at the man incredulously, you inquire. “Didn’t you just finish a demo last week?”
“I scrapped it,” Yoongi answers indifferently with a shrug. “I thought it might have been one of my best works, but then I listened to the demo after I finished it and… it just didn’t feel right to me anymore.”
You fall silent, only responding with a pitiful frown. You had the firsthand experience of losing the joy in your career, and perhaps that’s why it pains you more to find those signs on Yoongi. He was just as passionate about his music as you were about teaching, maybe even more. Seeing Yoongi struggle like this not only hurts you because he was your partner; it hurts you also because you know how it feels.
“It’s okay. We spend so much time practicing and doing something we love that we become our worst critic,” You began, and after taking a moment to decide whether it was best to or not, you place your hand on his shoulder. “My opinion may not mean a lot, but honestly? Your songs hold so much meaning, and you’re one hell of a producer. I know anything and everything you create is a masterpiece on its own. Surely, lots of other people agree, so please don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Yoongi glances over at your hand on his shoulder, then up at you. A look of surprise is etched on his features, clearly not having expected you to get personal. It’s definitely been a while since you two spoke in such a way, and the unnerving quietness that sits between you two has you second-guessing if it was too soon to go down this route.
You’re quick to remove your hand, and you divert your attention to the mess of lyrics-filled papers around you. “Um, I know I’m no pro at songwriting, but I didn’t suffer two years of writing papers for English class for nothing, so—”
In a flash, you’ve gone from flipping nervously through several sheets of paper to stilling once you realize that, after a long time without his touch, you’ve been pulled into Yoongi’s embrace. He cradles you close to him with one hand gently caressing the back of your head, and if you didn’t feel his hot breath on the top of your head, you wouldn’t have known that he has his face buried into your hair.
“Your thoughts always matter to me, ____,” His voice comes out low and muffled, but you understand him anyway. “I really don’t know where I’d be without you.”
You’re not quite sure if Yoongi can feel how tense you were, but it doesn’t take very long for you to relax. You’ve missed this — being in his arms as he tenderly runs his fingers through your locks, making you feel like it was just you two and no one else.
When you realize just how long it’s been since he last held you like this, you’re suddenly glad that your face is away from his line of sight, unable to see the tears that were threatening to spill.
Time definitely plays a factor in this period of rediscovery, and you know that things will never be the same as they were before. However, having spent the past two and a half weeks with him at his studio and slowly regaining the lost feelings, you open your eyes to a new, matured perspective of a relationship that makes this kind of love just a little more important than the days where it was just two lovebirds going through a honeymoon phase, naive to the impending obstacles that would test their integrity.
When you no longer hesitate to express your affection and when Yoongi becomes ecstatic from your very presence, you think you’ve finally made it. You almost suffered the fate of falling out of love and managed to completely turn it around in no time. To say you were relieved would be an understatement; you were elated to have the love of your life back, and truthfully, you may just be a little more in love with him now than you were before.
Even so, life never stops for anyone. Not even for the happiest human beings.
You reach the impending doom of midterms faster than you thought. Even after spending years of university as a TA scoring assignments and tests, you’re fully convinced you would never get used to the onslaught of work that also determines whether you’re doing your job well or not. Despite being under significant stress, you still fulfill your promise of stopping by Yoongi’s studio with Yaya Tea, per his request.
Having gone through enough breakdowns from doing this exact same activity during your youth, you learn a thing or two about keeping your composure. You think you’re doing a good job at keeping your stress on the down low; except, Yoongi was the one person that could see right through you.
You’re as silent as a mouse beside him, taking up one end of Yoongi’s desk to tackle as many test papers as possible. Yet, even when he has some work to do himself, you’re all he’s concerned about right now. From the very first moment you walked in, he noticed the absence of the quirky energy you radiated, and if he hadn’t caught a glance of your expression before you buried your nose in your paperwork, he wouldn’t have known that you were losing sleep over this.
“____?” Yoongi calls out, moving away from the desk and swiveling his chair over to face you. “Can I ask you something?”
You lift your head to look at him, your hand stilling on top of the paper but showing no signs of dropping what you were doing. “What’s up?”
“When does the semester end?” He inquires, placing his hands together mindlessly.
You place the tip of your pen to your chin. “Um, first week of December,” You say after a moment of thinking. “And then school’s out for a month.”
“Let’s go on a vacation.”
Your eyes widen, not having expected him to make a sudden call to action. “What?”
“Seoul. That’s one of the places you want to visit, right? I know all of the good spots there. We can spend a week there and the next week over at Daegu with my family,” Scooting his chair closer to you, Yoongi reaches a hand over to hold yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Come on. It’ll be great, and you need the escape more than I do, to be honest.”
You pout, glancing down at your joined hands where Yoongi’s large palm caresses yours. “But, that’s a really long time to be away. Are you sure you won’t get into trouble with your company?”
“They can survive two weeks without me,” Yoongi is quick to shrug it off with a wave of his hand. He’s back to convincing you, gazing at you so intently as if that were his strongest influence. “So?”
You don’t respond right away, only allowing your dumbfounded expression to stall in the meantime. You didn’t expect Yoongi to be the one suggesting a getaway, let alone suggest anything at all. It would be two weeks of exploring another country with Yoongi, and for him to be the one initiating it, you’re convinced that he was comfortable spending all that time with you, something you hadn’t witnessed in such a long time.
So you nod without hesitation, unable to hold back an excited grin. “I’d love that.”
“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi beams, giving your hand one last squeeze before he lets go. “We could even leave that same weekend that you finish the semester. Actually, let’s do that. Does that sound good to you?”
“Whatever makes you comfortable,” You laugh, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him showing his excitement for the future.
There was just something about seeing the light in Yoongi’s eyes as he smiles fondly at you that motivates you. Even amidst the seemingly endless amounts of paperwork you have to get through, knowing that you have Yoongi’s love and support is the one thing that’s keeping you sane through it all. You were finally certain that his feelings for you hadn't gone away for good, and for that, you were happy to have emerged stronger than ever.
But you should have known that it wouldn’t guarantee immunity to any other problems; more specifically, doubt.
It comes later in the evening during a quick trip to the restroom. Most of the building has emptied out for the night, and having seen no one on the floor during your walk, you don’t expect to run into anyone else. Even in the dead silence, it was relatively calming to not have to worry about seeing Yoongi’s coworkers and having them double take at the sight of your unfamiliar figure.
The interruption comes just as you’re about to leave the stall. The stranger seems to be on the phone, and most of her speech is inaudible up until she stops in front of the mirror to fix her appearance. You reach for the lock to leave, but when you hear Yoongi’s name escape from her lips, you stop.
“He really did drop the bomb on me like that in such short notice,” a female’s voice speaks solemnly. “We worked so hard on his song together, and it was basically done too! All we had to do was release it, but then Yoongi came to my studio to tell me he decided against it. It’s a shame.”
You stare at the door in disbelief, finding that on the other side of this barrier is none other than Soohyun, the girl from your very first visit to Yoongi’s studio. You stay put in your place, and you’re unsure if she even knows that she wasn’t alone in the restroom. Suddenly, you’re grateful that you hadn’t stepped out. Even though you know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, the mention of Yoongi’s name makes politeness the last thing that comes to mind.
“I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with that girl… ____? I think that’s her name. She’s his girlfriend,” The way Soohyun speaks your name with a sharp tongue leaves you stunned. You find it hard to believe that this was the same girl that was so enthusiastic about meeting you, showing her true colors behind your back. “Yoongi was on his way to dumping her, and releasing that song would have sealed the deal, because it was all about her. And look, now he doesn’t want to do it. You know, I’m a hundred percent sure they made up. I mean, why else would he ghost me like that?”
Soohyun lets out a laugh despite her desolate words, unaware that while she makes a humor out of her own heartbreak, you were on the other side of the wall drowning in yours.
You’re sick of the mind games.
You’re sick of being stuck in uncertainty even when everything has been laid out to you. You’re sick of believing one thing and then having to change your mind when someone comes up to counteract it. Most of all, you’re sick of love.
It’s been well over a week since that night, yet Soohyun’s words replay like a broken record, crushing every happy thought of Yoongi that even dares to cross your mind. You were doing so well too, and you wanted to believe Yoongi was putting in the same amount of effort in saving this relationship because he loved you.
As it turns out, he would have broken up with you in a heartbeat if you hadn’t taken the first step.
Rather than confronting Yoongi, you let this manifest in your mind. It was probably the unhealthiest way to deal with a dilemma, but frankly, you didn’t think it would be the best idea with the overheard conversation as your only basis. You don’t even know if you should bring it up at all, seeing as this was a part of the past, and the only thing that should matter is the here and now.
Still, you can’t seem to shake off this what-if feeling.
Above all, you still find yourself in the Genius Lab on a late night, lying on the couch with your legs perched on the arm rest. It’s the first time in a few weeks that you don’t bring work along with you for other reasons besides the monster that’s taken over your mind. Albeit you feel bad watching Yoongi work while you’re relaxing away, it feels nice not having to worry about your work for a while.
For hours, the studio is filled with the ambience of Yoongi hard at work as he adds finishing touches to his new demo. Then, a heavy sigh of relief pierces the air followed by the sounds of your partner groaning as he stretches. “Finally done,” he breathes out, leaning back on his chair.
You peek up from your cell phone screen, quirking up an eyebrow. “Proud of you. You must be relieved.”
“Mm, I still have the lyrics to write, but I got a good foundation set up,” After setting his headphones down, Yoongi stands from his chair and straightens himself out. He makes his way to the door, but just before he exits, he nods over at his desk. “I’m gonna freshen up, but feel free to listen to the demo while I’m gone if you’d like. I know the software looks intimidating but it’s fairly easy to navigate.”
You let out a dry laugh. “I’ll try not to mess anything up.”
It’s quiet again when Yoongi leaves. His monitor stares back at you, adorned in blocks filled with different colored wavelengths. It takes you a moment to push yourself off of the couch and make your way over to his desk, taking a seat in his big chair.
You study the screen intently, and suddenly you’re hit with a thought: did Yoongi ever delete his old demo? He said he scrapped it, but you were curious if he actually did remove it for good, or if it was somehow still sitting in his files somewhere.
Letting it get the best of you, you don’t waste another second and reach for his mouse, minimizing the software. The first thing you check is his files, and you’re immediately overwhelmed with the plethora of folders sitting on just the documents page alone. You navigate the explorer with low expectations; you don’t expect to easily pick out the same demo that Soohyun had mentioned, especially when Yoongi has worked on so many projects during his career.
In the middle of your mindless clicking, you find yourself in the recycle bin where a lone folder sits. The folder is called “Seesaw (final draft)”, following the same format as his other undeleted files on his computer. You open the folder to find several bits of files that you assume are vocal recordings, some of which include Soohyun’s name, and that’s when you know you’ve found it.
Once you’ve found the mp3 file, you slip on Yoongi’s headphones and press play.
You sit back and listen, your head involuntarily nodding to the upbeat sounds of the song. It has a calming R&B feel, a kind of song you would listen to during a night drive through the city. Then you remember the unpleasant feeling that sits inside of you when you realize what’s coming. When Yoongi starts to sing, you’re not disappointed in the slightest.
It’s just as you anticipated from the very beginning.
Your expression grows sour the longer you listen to Yoongi sing about a break-up that was long coming. It was clear that the lyrics were well thought out; the way he describes the pain that came with dragging out the relationship past its time is so insightful that it hurts. While you had been mourning over what your relationship once was, he was thinking about ways to end it.
You remain in the seat long after the song ends, disbelief evident all over you. Your eyes remain downcast as you slowly remove the headphones from your head, where you can hear the sound of your heart erratically beating against your chest.
You’re so tuned out that you don’t hear Yoongi return to the room, and it takes his hand on your shoulder to bring you back. “What’d you think?” He inquires, squatting down next to you to meet your height. He’s completely clueless, but you know he’s bound to find out soon.
But you don’t give him the time to figure it out, and you dejectedly blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “So, you wanted to break up.”
The smile is wiped from Yoongi’s face, his head whipping to the monitor, then back to you. “Wait,” He blinks profusely, his face scrunching. “Did you… did you go through my files?”
“That doesn’t matter right now,” You retort sternly. You come to a stand and distance yourself from the confused man, crossing your arms. “You were going to break up with me if I hadn’t done anything to fix us, didn’t you? Was this how you felt about our relationship these past few months? Just something you could throw away so easily?”
It was all coming out now — the built-up frustration, the pain, and even the insecurities. You didn’t care if you were coming off harshly anymore; you endured enough.
Yoongi stands up straight, shaking as if he were going to come up to you and decided against it. His fists clench at his sides while he gazes at you with sullen eyes. “____, if this is about the song, please take it with a grain of salt. I wrote it when we were going through a rough patch. What I’m feeling for you now is obviously not the same as how I was feeling during that time.”
“That doesn’t mean those feelings didn’t exist,” You laugh bitterly with a shake of your head. “Yoongi, do you know how much I hated myself because I wasn’t sure if it was because of me that we grew apart? Do you know how badly I wanted to talk to you but didn’t because we were basically strangers? And yet you were here thinking about ways to end our relationship instead of trying to fix it.”
“How are you so sure I didn't feel horrible about this either? Or that I wasn’t going through shit of my own?” Yoongi shoots back, flustered at the constant verbal attacks. “I’m sorry that my mind wasn’t in the right headspace back then to think properly. I get that you were frustrated and you have every right to be, but take my feelings into account too.”
Those words set off the ticking bomb within you, and you explode. “I have, Min Yoongi. I have.”
Yoongi’s eyes remain fixated on you, the disheartenment evident in his expression. Suddenly, he’s out of words to say.
“I’ve put you first so many times that I kept silent for months, even when it was only driving us further apart. I even let it slide when you forgot our anniversary the same day I found you in the studio with Soohyun,” Your face scrunches in distaste. “By the way, should I even mention the relationship between you two that’s just a little more than friendly? That was oh-so-conveniently happening at the same time we weren’t talking because you refused to communicate with me? But let’s be real, you never do.”
Yoongi can only stare back at your anguished figure. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can hear him draw in a heavy breath from a good distance away. You knew he was frustrated, and truthfully you hated to argue more than anything. However, his lack of response tells you everything you need to know.
“____, I…” He stammers after moments of silent torture. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything else,” You chuckle dryly. “You said so yourself: let’s not drag this out.”
You keep your glossy eyes away from Yoongi as you gather your belongings in a hurry. Your fight or flight senses tune out everything around you, and regardless of whether he tries to stop you or not, you’re out of the studio just seconds before falling apart.
On a gloomy Saturday, the cycle you thought you had abandoned makes its comeback.
It’s a tad different this time around. You decided against going home despite the exhaustion that looms over you, and going by only the sun’s journey in the sky, you’re certain you’ve been sitting in your office for nearly ten hours. You can hardly believe that you’ve spent that much time buried in your work, but anything was better than going back home and possibly seeing Yoongi.
You were doing so well at distracting yourself, taking your mind off of reality for a while even when your distraction was far from relaxing. Then you spot a frame that sits at the edge of your desk — a framed memory of your first date with Yoongi.
You can hardly recognize the happy couple in the photo, kissing under the warm summer evening. You were so different from the girl that smiles in the presence of her partner, loving him without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the dark, unpromising future that sat ahead.
Meanwhile, you were destroying yourself again, allowing yourself to scorch in the fire even when the exit sits right in front of you. All you had to do was get up and go; you’d finally be free of the flames that were slowly ravaging what you once called home. Yet, there was something holding you back: the fond, happy memories that were made in this very home. Memories so blissful that even when the walls around you are burning, you were hopeful that rather than fading into ashes, you’ll find a way to make it beautiful again.
“Miss ____?” A voice startles you back to earth when you don’t respond to the knock on the door.
You jump in your seat, dropping your pen as you turn to face the door, where you find the familiar face staring back with sheepish round eyes. “Hi, Jungkook. What brings you in?”
“Sorry, I know it’s late, but I was hoping to talk to you about my grade on the midterms.”
Through tired eyes and a dull demeanor, you smile and gesture to the open seat next to you. “Take a seat.”
From the very first moment Jeon Jungkook walked into your classroom, you knew he wasn’t another ordinary face filling the seats. He was a film and cinematography major taking your Calculus class to fulfill his general education requirements, so you didn’t expect top notch performance. Jungkook was insanely handsome too, and you try to keep your mind open and away from believing any stereotypes.
In this case, Jungkook was the perfect example of a beauty with no brain.
Jungkook has filled the empty seat in your office more times than your other students combined. At first it was heartwarming, seeing that he cared about his grade in your class this much that he took advantage of your office hours to get help. However, when you notice that his performance hasn’t improved since the first test, you wonder if there was any point of him coming to you for help when—
“You don’t seem to be retaining the content we go over,” You affirm when he finishes expressing his concern. “You know, I’m always happy to help you with whatever you’re struggling with, but have you considered utilizing the tutoring center? Maybe, having someone else’s input could help you understand the material better?”
Jungkook doesn’t seem phased by your suggestion at all. If anything, he considers it for not even half a second before he shrugs, disregarding it completely. “I don’t know. There’s always other people there and I gotta say, I’m not a huge fan of group discussions. I learn better one-on-one.”
While you nod in understanding, you’re strongly fighting the urge to rip your hair off in frustration. This boy was as stubborn as a mule. You never thought you’d lose your cool to a student who’s so close-minded that he deliberately ignores the advice you give him.
“Okay,” You draw out, looking off to the side with pursed lips. “Well, if you look on the library’s website, you could see that the school offers one-on-one tutoring sessions. It’s fairly easy to book an appointment, and most of the time you’ll be paired with a professor who may have the expertise you’re looking for.”
Slouched in his seat, Jungkook’s expression remains largely unreadable. He’s hearing you, but he’s not quite getting the message. Little did you know that while you stand behind your barrier of professionalism, your struggling student had something else stirred up in his mind.
It isn’t made clear until he sits up straight, leaning forward until his elbows rest on his knees. “I feel like you’re the only professor that can help me, Miss ____.”
It isn’t particularly hard to read between the lines; you didn’t go to school for eight years to not be able to. All it takes is one glance at the younger man for you to figure him out, though it’s just a little more obvious now. From his sultry gaze to the way he licks his lips, and now that he’s closer to you, your air is tainted with the strong, musky cologne he wears.
Clearing your throat, you manage to stay collected even while taking measures to subtly distance yourself. “There’s only so much I can do for you, Jungkook. Now, if you want to pass this semester, I would strongly recommend seeing a tutor. Otherwise, you may end up failing the course.”
“Professor, are you sure there isn’t another way for me to pass? Some extra credit, maybe?”
Before you know it, Jungkook has you trapped in your own office chair. His arms cage both sides as he leans over you, and even when you’re doing all you can to not look at him, his stupidly handsome face is so close to yours that your professional barrier might break here and then.
“Um,” You faltered, keeping your head lowered and away from his trailing lips. “Can you please—?”
“I always thought you were beautiful,” He breathes in your ear, so close to your earlobe that he could kiss it right now if he wanted to. “Oh, what I would do to make you mine. I would treat you like a queen, Miss ____. Give you all the love you would ever want. Would you let me?”
Your eyes widen at his words. It hits too close to home, and you’re suddenly trying to figure out if you had accidentally let bits of your personal life leak into your lectures and one-on-ones with Jungkook. You can hardly process the sudden turn of events, let alone the fact that he may have felt this way about you from the beginning, that you’re completely frozen in your seat.
The presence of another human being witnessing the event unfolding is what breaks you out of your ice.
“You better back away from her if you know what’s good for you, kid,” Yoongi snarls. He stands at the doorway a good distance away, yet you can still see him trembling, trying his hardest to keep his hands planted by his sides.
Jungkook doesn’t budge, but instead he lets out an unamused chuckle as he stares Yoongi up and down. “And what if I don’t?”
“If you want to continue attending this college without a dent on your record or your pretty little face, you better back away.”
Whether it was Yoongi’s threat or the fact that he stepped closer to make his point clear, Jungkook begrudgingly unhooks his hands from your armrests. You pay no mind to the tension in the air as you make measures to distance yourself. No other words are spoken during Jungkook’s exit, but you don’t need spoken words to know the vulgarity that’s shared between the glances of the two men.
From one problem to another, you can’t seem to catch a break.
You turn your back to him, unable to handle another second of seeing Yoongi’s unnerving stare on you, even when they were burning holes in the back of your head. “Why are you here?”
Yoongi’s sudden apology seemed out of context, but your expression softens ever so slightly. It didn’t take much to know what he was talking about — after all, it was the only thing that was keeping you and Yoongi apart.
Even so, you stand your ground.
“I made a mistake. You didn’t do anything wrong. You always had my back, always there to support me even when I did a horrible fucking job at showing my appreciation. I took you for granted, and I’m so sorry,” Yoongi bursts, practically rambling to the point where you had to pick words out for you to understand his point.
Completely overwhelmed with emotion, you’re rendered immobile. You don’t know what you were expecting when Yoongi came to your office, but hearing him apologize profusely was definitely not one of them.
When you don’t say anything, Yoongi continues destroying the dam that he’s built up, letting everything spill. “I should have come home to you, trusted you with everything, given you the love and comfort that you were missing, that we were both missing. But I was stupid. Even after I’ve hurt you for so long, you… you were still kind to me. I— I’m sorry. You deserve someone so much better.”
“What if that’s not what I want?” You mumble.
Yoongi freezes, swallowing the lump in his throat. It was unnerving, having your back to him and not having anything else besides your words to go off of. However, when you turn around slowly and finally show him your tear-stained eyes, he knows to hesitate no more.
“What if I told you, the reason why I stayed was because I didn’t want anyone else?” Your voice cuts through the air. “Because I couldn’t find it in me to love someone else? What would you do?”
Were you saying what he thought you were saying?
Yoongi takes a step closer, apprehensive of your next move, but regardless he lays it all out. “I’d ask for a second chance to make things right. I would give you all of me and more to make up the lost time. I would shower you with all the love you could ever ask for, so much that you may get tired of me.”
With a heart as heavy as the emotions you were feeling, you swallow thickly. “Then do it.”
The affirmation leaves your lips in a hushed tone, piercing through the tension in the air. Yet above all, Yoongi hears it as clear as day. Again he stands still, utterly stunned at the opportunity that was showing itself. When it’s inherently clear that his ears aren’t betraying him, and when he sees the faintest sparkle through your tearful eyes, he breaks through.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Yoongi closes the space between you, finding solace in your lips.
Your lips mesh together so perfectly, and you wonder how you were able to survive almost three months of deprivation without going crazy. It starts off slow and sweet, basking in each other’s warmth and releasing all of the tension away, until one smooth lick over Yoongi’s lips ignites the sensual flame that was once lost.
When you pull away to catch a breath of air, you find yourself backed into your desk, your ass pressing against the edge before Yoongi’s large hands grasp them and aid you to sit on its surface. Wet from your saliva, his lips ghost over your jawline, then to your neck where he effortlessly finds the sweet spot that’s been neglected for too long.
“I missed this. I missed you,” Yoongi growls in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent before latching on and giving your skin a sweet suckle. “God— it’s been too long.”
“I missed you too, Yoongi,” You mewl when he gives your spot a particularly hard suck before soothing it with his tongue. Wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other on his tensed bicep, you flutter your eyes close with a faint smile. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good, ‘cause I won’t let you,” Yoongi growls, completely different from the man that had sweetly spoken his way back into your heart. “And by the end of the night, I promise you that I’ll have to carry you out.”
Through ravenous kisses and groping from your wandering hands, Yoongi is able to seamlessly hike up your skirt and tug off your underwear. His lips are so warm and inviting, tasting just as good as you remembered that you want to stay there forever. The only time you willingly pull away is when you feel his cold fingertips run along your pussy, tracing every line and crevice of your folds.
Yoongi finds pleasure in watching you unravel alone. He watches you with hungry eyes and a shameless smirk as he rubs circles around your clit. The sight of your mouth hanging open as your eyes roll back in ecstasy has the tent in his jeans growing bigger. When he hears the squelch of your folds, he can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation.
“Nngh, Yoongi, please,” You beg, tossing your head back. There’s no telling what he’s going to do next, but dear goodness. You just wanted him to stop teasing you.
“You’re soaked, babe,” Yoongi groans, his slow pace getting to him just as much as it was getting to you. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you? I bet you taste so good.”
Upon his comment, you feel the absence of another human’s warmth. When your eyes shoot open, you see a full head of dark locks sitting right in front of your core, hiking your legs on his shoulders before he dives right in.
Yoongi’s soft lips are the first thing you feel, pressing gently against your folds and drenching in your arousal. He breathes in your arousal before he takes in more of you, running a line up from your entrance to your clit in one swoop. From there, he uses his tongue to feel every aspect of your core before using the tip of it to continually flick at your engorged clit. You tremble from his ministrations that you fall back on your desk, billowing your hips to feel more of him in any way you could.
“Fucking delicious,” He breathes out when he pulls away to catch his breath. “I forgot how fucking good you taste, how sensitive your pretty little pussy is.”
“Yoongi,” You whine clamorously, hips bucking into his face when the pad of his thumb massages your clit, whereas his tongue slithers its way into you, grazing your walls so gently. “Fuck… fuck! I’m close!”
Yoongi refuses to pull away and interrupt the road to your high. He keeps his lips latched on your pussy, rubbing your nub as he pistons his tongue so far into you that it’s insane. Your clenching walls don’t stop him from swirling his tongue all around, defying the odds and reaching as far as to find your g-spot for one split second.
It’s when Yoongi pulls away to suck harshly at your clit that you come undone. Your eyes roll back, white spots filling your vision as your orgasm washes through you, straight into Yoongi’s mouth. You shake from the oversensitivity, your hands pulling at Yoongi’s locks when he continues to lap you up through all.
He stands before you once you descend from your high, licking the last of your juices from his lips. He lays a kiss upon the tip of your nose, planting his hands on both sides of you and caging you in. “You okay?”
“More than okay,” You whisper, still swimming in the euphoric bliss of your orgasm. Through your half-lidded eyes, you break your gaze on the man and look down at the growing bulge. “Do you want me to…?”
Already knowing the question, Yoongi shakes his head. “As much as I’d like that, I just wanna be inside of you.”
You cling to his shoulders, watching your partner hastily fumble with his jeans and pull it down along with his underwear in one swoop. He grips the erection that has sprung free, the tip red and pulsating precum before you. You don’t hide your reaction to it because goodness, has he always been this big?
Yoongi certainly finds amusement in witnessing your bulging eyes, yet he can’t help but smile. “Ready?”
He starts pushing in once you nod. Having lubricated your area with his saliva, his girth slides in smoothly through your tight hole. As you expect, the uncomfortable stretch is the first thing your brain comprehends. However, you find solace in Yoongi’s dark, mesmerizing eyes, keeping your mind off of the slight sting.
Yoongi stills before you, caging you between his arms as he patiently waits for you to adjust to him. He gives it a couple of moments before his hips draw back as far as they can go without slipping out, and then he pistons back in, plunging your core with the entirety of his shaft.
Maintaining a steady pace, you two move in sync with one another, drowning into the pleasure. Yoongi has his hands planted firmly on your hips, aiding your moving hips while he meets you halfway. You grip his shoulders tightly to keep from falling onto your back, wanting to be as close to him as possible during this moment, to feel the warmth you’ve been missing.
The pace is slow for some time until Yoongi hears you deliciously moaning underneath your breath. It ignites something carnal within him, and in the wake of his desperation for you, he wants to hear more of you.
Sticking his fingers in his mouth, he coats the entirety of them with his saliva before he pulls them out with a pop. Within seconds he has his fingers dipped between you, and while he gradually increases his thrusts, he ravenously assaults your clit.
“Y-Yoongi!” You gasp, no longer able to hide the moans bubbling up in your throat. You whimper when you feel his tip graze your spot over and over, pushing you back into your sweet high once again. “Fuck— I fucking love you so much.”
Hearing your confession strikes something deep in him. Sure, it wasn’t your first time saying ‘I love you’, but something about this one hits particularly different. It isn’t the innocent ‘I love you’ from the first moment you realized you loved each other; it was the ‘I love you’ that despite all of the hardships you endured, it makes your soul connection even stronger, one that ensures resilience above all.
“And I love you,” Yoongi whispers in the heat of the moment, lips hovering over yours. He leans a little more forward, pushing you back until you have to keep an arm behind you to remain propped up. His erection hits you at a new angle, to the point where Yoongi’s practically fucking you into your desk. “If only you could see how beautiful you look right now, my naughty angel.”
His words evoke a strangled gasp for air, and before you can even comprehend it, your body ascends into its second high of the night. An orgasm even more powerful like any other, your walls mercilessly clench around Yoongi’s hard cock as it continues pounding into you. You hug him so well that it doesn’t take much longer before he groans into your lips, spilling every last drop of his cum into you.
You stay in place for a while, relishing in each other’s warmth and lazily making out under the light of the late evening. Completely spent, Yoongi doesn’t bother pulling himself out of you, but seeing as it’s been way too long, he thinks it’s better this way anyways.
“That’s one hell of a way to ask for a second chance,” You break the calming silence, yet Yoongi remains relaxed under your touch, burrowing his face even deeper in the crevice of your neck.
He coos with a rasp in his voice. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Hmm, I don’t know…” You feign contemplation until Yoongi shoots up to look at you. Right away, you laugh, reassuring him with a kiss on his pouting lips. “I’m kidding. Live a little.”
“I would hope so,” Yoongi tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ears, taking in every detail of your face and falling in love with you even more. “We still have that vacation to look forward to, you know?”
You smile cheekily. “I haven’t forgotten.”
For just this one moment, it feels like you two are the only ones in a world that seems bleak and unpromising. The world is cold and dark when it surrounds you, continually putting your love to a test. But when you and Yoongi are together, souls joined by a thin yet durable thread through life’s journey, you know you could tackle anything together — love and pain alike, even after the honeymoon fades.
© SUBVK. Do not repost, modify, or translate.
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Ruin Him - JJK
> Genre: Jk virgin coworker au, smut
>Warnings: Jk is a bit subby, he’s a virgin, public sex/ car sex, fingering (f receiving) reader is a dom, kinda soft, corruption kink
>Rating: 18+ (for smut)
>Synopsis: You get fired and expect it to be a lot worse of a day than it is. your friend the IT guy at the office comes to your rescue.
> Words: 3.5k
“I’m sorry but your subpar work just isn’t cutting it, we’re letting you go. Please gather your things and vacate the premises.”
That’s what he said. Your boss sat there in his fancy chair, not giving a fuck, seeming proud of himself for his words. He didn’t care that you worked your ass off for the past few years at this job praying all your work paid off in the form of a raise or a promotion just for him to call you a different name the handful of times he ever acknowledged your existence. He didn’t care that you didn’t know how to find a new job on such a short term, he didn’t even give you two weeks’ notice. He probably didn’t even care that because of this you might have to move back in with your parents for a while. You felt like you had failed, but you were more than heartbroken as you stormed through the maze of cubicles towards your own where your desk was, clutching the box that your boss had handed you with somewhat of a smile, you were pissed. The silent stares you knew that you were getting only angered you more, you felt like a circus clown like they wanted a good show. You felt like screaming at them “what are you looking at?!” but then again maybe they pitied you. You probably had mascara running down your tear-soaked cheeks, they probably knew what had happened from the way you were acting.
It didn’t matter, you just wanted out of there, and the looks and silence from them only made you rethink even taking the time to get your things at all.
You held the box against the side of your desk as you carelessly raked your things into it with teary, blurred vision. You had worked so hard just to toss years worth of being here into a box.
You felt so alone, no one had said a word to you, your mind raced with pain and anger as you took your filled box and began to quickly race towards the elevator. You saw that elevator as the light at the end of this nightmare tunnel, it would shield you from the staring, from the gawking, from the pity. You did your best to hold back the wall of sobs that were threatening to break forth and bring you to your knees as you thought about how someone could be so cold and just fire you as if you weren’t even a person.
In it the midst of your thought and rushing, you could feel your foot catch on something, next thing you were sent falling forward. The bottom of the box fell through and you and your things went crashing to the floor.
You wanted to just lay there, to just give up and hope you melted and soaked into the floor so you could just get away as fast as you could from this embarrassing situation.
“Here” someone muttered. You had been engrossed in your self-pity and stares from the others you hadn’t even realized the one and the only person you ever counted on was here to rescue you.
You pushed yourself off the floor as he concentrated on taking the box on the floor gathering your things and putting them back inside, carefully holding the now broken bottom so they all didn’t fall through. You looked at the man as he pushed his round glasses up onto his face and stood. He took the box under one of his arms and outreached the other arm to you to help you up, which you graciously took.
“Let me walk you to your car, okay?” he announced more so than asked, he was already heading towards the elevator with your things leaving you to run along behind him to catch up.
You had spent so many lunches with this man, he was the only real not standoffish one here, the only one that was easy to talk to and get along with. Maybe because it was because he was young like you, or maybe because he was an outcast at this place like you. Jeon Jungkook worked in IT, he was shy, stuttered when nervous combined with his little habit of pushing his glasses upon his face. He was a bit of a nerd, or that’s what people said around the office, but you had always seen him as nothing more than a friend.
As you were accompanied out the doors of the building and into the parking lot, you were still holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. The walk to your car was silent, but he seemed to stall with the box in his hand as you stopped next to your car.
“I’m- I’m so sorry.” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed and his voice took on a tone that dripped with guilt and pity for you.
“It’s alright,” you said weakly as you took the box from him, careful to hold the button as he had. “I’m uh-” your voice broke and shook just a bit making you clear your throat and avoid eye contact with the man whom you had spent a lot of lunches with, the man who had just witnessed your near meltdown over being fired.
“For what it’s worth, he’s probably going to fire me too, he never liked either of us. Jokes on him though, I have another job lined up already, better paying too. Hey! I could put in a good word for you! I bet they’d have a spot open, it’s run by an old friend, and I bet I could-”
“Ah Kookie, you don’t have to do that.” you wondered how bad he had felt for you to offer this.
“I know, but what would lunch be without my lunch friend? If I’m switching jobs you might as well come with me, you know? I can give my friend a call tonight. You’re a good and dedicated worker and I’m sure he won’t say no.”
“Really?” you felt your tears and emotions subside for a moment and make way for a little excitement and relief.
“Of course.” he gave a little chuckle as he looked down at the pavement of the parking lot “You did tolerate being friends with the office nerd for the past few years, it’s the least I could do.”
“I never once thought you were a nerd Kook, they were all just dicks.” you smiled at his smile from your honesty.
“Hey, uh, listen…” he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose once again and ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re not doing anything tonight maybe… would- would you want to- go out for dinner? You know? As a celebration dinner for not- not having to put up with that dictator anymore.” he thumbed towards the building behind him “Y-you don’t have to, it’s-”
The more he went on the more he seemed to stutter and that let you know he was nervous.
“Yeah actually, let’s do that. You still have my number, right?”
He gave you a wide smile as he nodded.
“Is eight okay? You want to pick me up?” you asked as you shoved the box haphazardly into your back seat.
“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll text you,” he assured you.
You opened the driver’s side door but paused a moment before taking the few steps back over to him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks for making all of this a lot better Kook.”
You didn’t need to turn back around and see his face to know he wore such a cute flustered look, you had seen it before when casually flirting with him, you had always adored it, as a matter of fact, you more than adored it. He was always so shy and quiet and to be honest that was your thing, you often found yourself daydreaming about what he’d be like in bed. Would he let you take control over him? Would he switch into someone more aggressive? Tonight you were determined to find out, you had a bad enough day and decided that the dick of the gentlemanly coworker you had been thirsting after for years might make it all so much better.
He picked you up right at eight, still in his crisp white work shirt and black slacks, freshly off work. His car had the same smell like him. He made small talk the entire drive but you found yourself staring at your knight in shining armor. You liked how the lights from the street poured into the dark car occasionally and lit his smooth skin and glittered off those glasses that seemed too big for his face. You itched to touch him, you felt like you were wasting time already, you decided to test the waters, so when he was mid-sentence you placed a hand just above his knee. He paused a moment and you knew if he was about to reject you or if he asked you to move your hand, you would and simply just have a normal friend dinner with him then you would gladly do that instead, you did like spending time with him after all and you knew he wasn’t the kind of person to hold something like a little crush against you forever.
He didn’t stop you though, he didn’t move your hand, he just ignored it and continued about how he knew the guy who would hopefully soon be your new boss and how cool he was.
You honestly didn’t know where to go from there, dinner was casual, it was sweet, he took you to a nice steak house and paid, saying that you were “currently jobless” in a joking way. You had had so many lunches with him in the break room, you had eaten together before, but this time it felt so different. He seemed to stare more, stutter more, push up his glasses more and that was a sure sign of nervousness. You tried to join in on the conversation and not seem too boring in hopes he would want to do this again with you one day, but you honestly couldn’t get the thought of completely dominating him out of your head.
You didn’t make another move though, you were too worried he was just too shy or afraid to tell you not to. On your way home, just as you were figuring you were probably better off as friends any way he asked a strange question.
“Can we pull over and talk? I-I’d like to talk a little if that’s- that’s alright?”
“Of course, I’m in no rush to get home.” you replied knowing that this was it, he was about to give you the “we’re only friends” talk.
He said nothing else until he parked in a back empty parking lot of a store that had closed down months ago. Then he turned the car off, and simply just sat there a moment.
You wondered if you should ask what he wanted to talk about or start apologizing for your inappropriate behavior on the way to dinner when he finally turned to you, not making eye contact.
“I-I-I…” he stopped a moment and sighed, seeming a little aggravated at his stuttering “I wish I didn’t do that.” he then muttered. “I have something to tell you.”
“Okay.” you urged listening closely.
“I’m bad at this whole thing.” he gave a short sad laugh, more like a short breath than anything “I’m a virgin… is why.” he stared out the windshield as he spoke, seeming regretful once he did it.
“Hm,” you said and gave a little shrug and that’s when he looked at you again, inspecting your nonchalant reaction.
“You probably guessed that, right?” he let his forehead fall on the steering wheel and closed his eyes “why am I so dumb and obvious?” he seemed to ask himself.
“I guessed that you liked it rough in bed, like a lady in the streets but a freak in the bed, you know?”
He lifted his head and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“First of all, did you just quote an Usher song after I told you I was a virgin? Secondly, I am not whatever you thought I was.” his laugh was more of an amused one this time.
“I did. I did quote Usher. What do you say we find out though how you are in bed, right here, right now? I mean I’m not a virgin, but I’m a car sex virgin so it would be like we’re taking each other’s virginities.” you joked.
His eyes nearly went as wide as his mouth had fallen.
“N-n-now? Here? In my car?”
“Sure” you shrugged “Unless you’re opposed to it.” you shrugged once again.
His reply was a rapid shake of his head.
“Good,” you replied as you made your way over the center console that separated the both of you until your knees sat on both sides of his lap, straddling it.
You now face to face and he looked you in the eye but seemed so speechless. You didn’t need to hear him stutter to know that he was nervous, his quick breaths were the only noise in the quiet car.
You connected your lips to his and the result was a slow but passionate kiss, no tongue, nothing too fancy.
When you pulled your head back away from him you decided to ask to make sure this was what he wanted.
“Are you sure you want this?” You didn’t have to wait long for your whispered question to be answered.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. Turns out you- you weren’t the- the only one who has imagined what the other would be like in bed.” you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed down his nervous stuttering “do what you want, how you want it. S-show me what you like”
With his confirmation you reached down to the side of his seat, letting it fall back until he was lying horizontally.
“Let’s have some fun then Kook.” you leaned down over him hiking up your best dress so that your thighs were freer and your purposefully worn sexiest panties were exposed and could grind against his dress pants and hardening bulge in them.
When your lips met with his they were more hungry and less gentle than the first time. Your tongue found his and encouraged it to play with yours.
He seemed less and less nervous as time went by, even placing his hands on your ass and squeezing in rhythm with your still clothed but damp core grinding into his erection under his dress pants. You undoubtedly needed more though, you craved to fluster him more, you wanted him to feel what he was doing to you, how he was absolutely wrecking you without doing anything at all.
“Touch me.” you pried your lips from his to demand.
“I-I- I’ve done that part before but I-I-” you lifted his hand and guided it to tour soaked panties and he began to touch you through the material, letting his fighters over where your clit lie underneath the sticky material.
“So good, you’re doing so good.” you moaned just desperate for his touch to the point where you would take anything from him. He sucked in a breath at your praise.
“Like that? What if I…” he slipped his hand down the front of your panties, pulling them down just enough to reach inside and once again run his fingers over your slit, but this time with nothing separating you from his touch.
“Do you feel how wet I am for you? I want you so badly.” you took hold of his wrist and guided his fingers until they were inside of you.
“Fuck.” he breathed a shaky breath. “So tight.”
You bounced a little on his two fingers taking them inside of you.
“Tell me that you dreamed of me taking your cock.” you moaned as you imagined it yourself.
“I have. I have for so long. Please fuck me.” he seemed so desperate and a tingle ran through you at how much you enjoyed the sound of him being so needy for you.
“Beg me Kookie. Beg me to be the first to take your cock, show me how much you want me.”
“Please please please, please. Be my first, I want it, I want you,” he whispered sweetly and still breathlessly.
“Pull down your pants.” You ordered. his fingers left your pussy you couldn’t help but see the slick sheen of them as he fumbled with his pants. You leaned over into your seat and took the condom in your bag out that you had put there in hopes this all went well.
You opened the wrapper and rolled the latex down over his now exposed cock he had been slightly stroking. You were impressed with his size, he was hiding something pretty big in those dress pants all those years, maybe if you would have known all of this you would have offered to fuck him sooner, but you tried not to dwell on all of that, you just wanted to feel his cock fill you.
Your hips hovered over him, ready to take him at any second.
“Wait, we’re in p-public we could get in-”
“Trouble? You want to back out of this now?” you questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.
“No, no, no. I’m doing this.” he was determined, he reached for his glasses to take them off, but you stopped him.
“Leave them, I want you to see my face clearly when I cum for you, on your cock buried inside of me.” with that you lowered yourself down onto him. You didn’t take it too slowly when you finally had him entirely inside of you, you began to rock your hips right away, leaving him moaning and gripping your hips tightly with every movement.
It was bliss to finally have him in you, to be wrecking him underneath you like this, to hear him cursing with sensitivity under his hard, quick breaths.
You were leaning in so far forward to sporadically kiss him and bite at his lips roughly, that your clit rubbed against his pubic bone with every movement.
“You like that Jungkook? You like the way you feel inside of this pussy?” You teased.
“Fuck.” he repeated among groans of pleasure with his eyes shut. “What-what id I accidentally-”
“It’s alright, it’s your first time, but try to hang in there and let me play with you just a little longer.” you coached, but you were already riding him so fast, just seconds from your orgasm, you were so out of breath and all you wanted was to let him feel you cum around him. You wanted to ruin him for life, and from the fucked out expression on his face you seemed to be doing your job.
The nerdy guy from work was balls deep inside of you and you could feel his cock twitching and hard, ready to release any second and finally give you what you had been daydreaming of for so many years.
His normally neat hair was a mess and his glasses were askew as his fingers dug further into your skin.
“Kook I’m so close.” you panted as you forced your hips to move faster. His jaw was viably clenched as he viably also struggled to hang on.
He slammed his hips up into you in time and that was what did it.
You gripped his white dress shirt and he let out a long moan. His cock twitching as you felt him release into the condom dragged out your high. You could only watch his furrowed brows as he seemed to hold your hips in place as he came.
Then you were left staring at each other, heavy breathed and not saying anything for a moment
“Y-you know, even if I wasn’t a virgin, that would have p-probably sill been the best sex of my life.”
You let out a laugh as you climbed off of him and back into your seat, pulling down your dress as you did so.
“Yeah, I have to admit you weren’t too bad, especially for someone who’s never done that before. You have drive and dedication… I guess I should’ve seen that coming since you show that in your job.” you talked through him pulling off the condom, wrapping it in a napkin, and tossing it.
“At least you think so, I was fired today too. Jokes on him though, we both have new jobs now anyway.” he smiled and you let your surprise show on your face “I told you earlier but you didn’t seem to be listening, now I know where your mind was.” he said, making you laugh.
“And that’s where my mind will be from now on, we should do this more since we’re still coworkers, our little secret, yeah?”
“As if I’d say no to the best sex of my life again.” he started the car and pushed his glasses back up.
“Still the only sex of your life, but I’m kind of glad it’s the only so you think it’s the best.” you snorted with laughter at your own statement.
“Like I said, even if it wasn’t my only and there were so many more before you, I swear it would still be the best.” he gave you a smile. you knew it was cheesy but it was still cute.
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Did You Order a Pizza?
Halloween 2020 is filled with lots of surprises for the Styles family
A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope you had. great Halloween and you're feeling alright these days! This is a one shot following the family from my pic Another World, which you can find here! I hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to hear all your thoughts!! I love y'all!
Word Count: 7.6k
“And you’re sure he’s back?”
“You heard him on the phone. He’ll be waiting for Jeff so you’ve got plenty of time while he waits for the man to not show up.” Glenne smiled at you from her spot in the driver’s seat. “Although, I think he’ll like who does show up instead.”
Harry had left for Los Angeles so that he could begin filming a new Olivia Wilde film, leaving you and Bella in London. And as much as you’d have loved to join him on such a monumental step in his career from the start, you were unable to travel with him. Not only were you unable because your daughter was still in school at the time, but because of the pandemic that was still going on throughout the world. It prevented for most of the year’s plans to take place, which absolutely crushed Harry. He was looking forward to Love on Tour and showing his fans how much fun this new era was for him, more than you’d seen from him in a long time, but he would always put the safety of his fans before entertainment, so it was an easy choice to postpone. However, no tour meant that he could gladly accept a leading role in a film alongside some of the most well known actors in the industry.
But it only took you a few days after his departure to find out you couldn’t be so far from him. As fate would have it, Bella’s class was turning into online learning once the half term break ended, which meant one of the most important reasons you were still in London had vanished. So, after spending two weeks quarantining and making sure you took all the necessary precautions, both you and Bella got tested and flew to the states with your negative results. From the start, you had told Jeff of your plan and he and Glenne gladly welcomed you into their home once you arrived, wanting to spend time with Bella for a few days after going so long not seeing the toddler. And finally, once you got the negative results of yet another test, you and your daughter were off to stay with Harry.
Jeff had spoken with your boyfriend over FaceTime earlier that morning, feeding Harry some story about needing to solidify some merch designs, and making sure that Harry would be patiently waiting for his manager after he finished filming for the day. But the plan was to have Glenn drive Jeff’s car so he suspected nothing seeing it pull up, and surprise him when it was you and Bella getting out the car instead of the oldest Azoff son.
“I can’t wait.” you groaned out through the grin taking over your face. You bounced in your seat slightly, pressing both hands to your cheeks just thinking about seeing his shocked face when he opened the door expecting Jeff, but seeing you and Bella instead.
“What?” The question was brought up after a soft chuckle was heard from Glenne’s side of the car as soon as you were halted at a stoplight.
“Nothing. It’s just cute how excited you are to see him after being apart for what, a month?”
“27 days.” you whispered, urging yourself to force down a smile. “But who’s counting?”
“You guys have been together nearly a decade, and you still get all flustered when you talk about him.”
The way you and Harry acted around one another was something that was always commented on by people in your inner circle, for that exact reason. Without a doubt, your relationship had gone through some of the toughest times, but that was bound to happen when you’ve been with someone since you were sixteen… and even more likely when every moment of your life was documented to the public. But those tough times never seemed to last, because at the end of the day, Harry was everything you ever wanted and vise versa. He was what you daydreamed about in a partner while growing up. And being with him was like being with the sun. He made you feel loved and cared for, you had more fun with him than anyone else on the planet, and every single day with him felt like a new adventure. As a kid, you’d thought the way people described the love of their life was corny, nothing but a thing of fairy tales, yet that feeling that bloomed inside your chest and tummy every time you thought about Harry told you that it was very real.
“Dunno.” you shrugged, “He’s my person. Even seven and half years later, he still makes me feel like he did on our first date.”
“That what’s got you looking extra glowy or is that just another secret to staying in the honeymoon phase forever?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you replied quickly, finding it hard to keep the giddy feeling that was now bubbling in your lower stomach under control when you turned your head to meet her gaze. She was squinting at you with suspicious eyes, her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek, which forced a laugh to fall from you. “What? I don’t! Just miss him, that’s all. Isn’t that right baby? We just missed daddy loads, huh?” making sure to quickly take the attention away from yourself, you turned as much as you could in your seat to look at Bella in the back.
“Yes! I miss daddy so much!” her little legs kicked against the carseat and her arms lifted high above her head, a huge smile plastered on her face. “I have so many drawings and stickers to show him and Mr. Jeff got new socks!”
“I know, we got them all tucked away nice and safe so you can show him. Do you remember what the plan is when we get there?” you asked her, your breath getting caught in your throat for a moment when the sun shined just right through the rear window. It was a perfect day in LA, sunny and warm and just as the car pulled onto the street you knew was where Harry was staying, the sunlight danced across Bella’s perfect complexion. She was a spitting image of her father, down to the freckles dotting her face, the deep set dimples that never seemed to disappear, and the curls constantly falling in front of her face no matter how hard you tried to keep them tamed. Every now and again you caught a glimpse, sometimes through the kitchen window while she was playing in the backyard and other times while her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept on your chest, of just how breathtaking Bella is. What angelic beauty the love between you and Harry had managed to create.
“Yeah mumma!” she smiled, giving you two thumbs up, very clearly excited about getting to see her dad again. “You ‘member my costume, right mumma?”
“Of course I did. Put it in the bag right next to mine.”
“Good. ‘Cause ‘m really ‘cited about it.”
“I know baby. It’s a good one, isn’t it?” you knew Harry would get a kick out of what Bella decided to be for Halloween. She had come to you months ago, actually sat you down in the kitchen and explained what she wanted to do like she was in a little business meeting. And of course as soon as she told you, you had to laugh because it was perfect.
Her whisper was the last thing said within the confines of the car before the three of you pulled up in front of a beautiful white house nestled deep in the Hollywood Hills. It was much smaller than the house the pair of you had just sold just blocks away, but everything about it was so much homier. A brick walkway sandwiched between a line of shrubbery and a white stone wall led up to the house, which itself was an odd shape. The very front of the house came up to an asymmetrical point instead of a typical flat roof, and the rest of the house was pushed back slightly, so that none of the face was level, and the house almost seemed cut in half horizontally from the distinct line between white stone bottom and black paneling on the upper level of the home. Finally, a brick downhill driveway, made of the same brick as the walkway, led to an all black garage that sat just below the rest of the home. The small details is what made the building give off such a cozy vibe; a vibrant green front door, plant boxes hanging off a few of the upper windows, a black wooden archway and lanterns surrounding the front door, a few potted plants on the side of the walkway, and the faint golden hues peaking through the closed blinds.
“Cute, huh?” Glenne laughed, putting the car in park and turning fully in her seat to look at you.
“Yeah, it actually really is. Reminds me a bit of our old place.”
“Place in London, right? That’s what I told Jeff.” she said at the same time, looking behind her at Bella while you got out of the car. “You ready to go, tulip?”
Her hands were already fumbling with the seat belt by the time you opened her door, the excitement itching at her in preparation for what was to come, but she graciously waited for you to sort her out.
“Thank you mumma.” she muttered casually once you had her unbuckled and lifted into your arms.
“You’re welcome, baby.” the way Bella was the most polite little girl you had ever known never failed to make your heart soar. You and Harry were so proud of the person she was becoming, whether she was that way because she saw how everyone in her life acted or because she was born with the kindest little soul, it didn’t matter. She always made sure the people around her were happy and having fun, constantly reminding people how much she loves them, and trying her hardest to make everyone laugh. It was yet another way she reminded you of Harry; they both could instantly light up a room without even trying. “Just gotta ring the bell, right? Say your line?”
“You got it, mumma!” she smiled brightly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.
Nearly the instant you put her down, she darted up the brick steps, taking a full pause at each step to be her funny self and jump, with both feet together, up to the next one. As she made her way towards the front door, you took your place leaning against the passenger door of Glenne’s car, nearly doubling over in laughter watching Bella look hysterical lifting up on her very tiptoes in order to reach the unusually high doorbell.
Your breath caught in your throat as you waited for Harry to open the front door. For a minute, you were sure that he had ignored Jeff’s instructions to stay home, but to your relief, the green door finally opened, revealing a very comfortable looking Harry. He was very obviously post shower, his hair visibly wet and sparkling when the porch lights lit up his form, clad in a pair of black basketball shorts and one of his grey Treat People With Kindness hoodies, and nothing else but a tall pair of Nike socks. It was like a scene from a movie, because when he didn’t immediately see Jeff in front of him, Harry looked over towards the driveway quickly like he was being pranked. But within a second, his attention was brought down to Bella, who tugged on the hem of his shorts, her sweet voice barely audible from the distance.
“Did you get a pizza?”
It was comical to watch him just stare at her like she had three heads. You couldn’t blame him, last he knew, both you and Bella were five thousand miles away, so it made sense that his brain was not comprehending the scene in front of him.
“He’s so confused.” Glenne giggled behind you, but her voice seemed like it was muted with how fully your focus was on your boyfriend.
Not even a second after your hum of agreement, and as if it was in slow motion, you watched as realization glossed over his features, his green eyes widening and mouth hanging open, and he sank to his knees. It didn’t take him even a second to pull Bella into his chest, winding his arms completely around her tiny frame and cradling her head in his surprisingly ring free hands.
Seeing the two of them together was like looking at two halves of the same soul reconnect. The moment they were in one another’s arms, it was like everything got brighter. Their smiles widened, chuckles more audible - even from such a far distance, and the warmth that typically lived in your chest recently, burned even warmer. You always knew Harry was meant to be a dad, just from how much he talked about it. You knew that he would do his very best to go above and beyond for his child, to make sure they felt loved and secure and treasured. But hearing about it and seeing it are completely different. Seeing nothing but total adoration on his face whenever he looked at your daughter made you fall in love with him all over again.
“Mumma!” Bella’s shouted, snapping you out of the daze you had slipped into while watching the moment before you. Both Harry and Bella were now looking at you from the doorway, her head resting on her father’s shoulder as he held her in one arm, their faces totally engulfed with smiles. “C’mere Mumma!”
“Yeah mumma.” Harry finally spoke up, his voice carrying down the pathway right to where you were standing.”C’mere.” Just seeing him standing there, smiling so brightly and holding his free arm out telling you he was waiting for a hug, was enough to make you break out in a smile and push off the car, dashing up the steps.
His chest was firm when you crashed into it, much firmer than when you hugged him goodbye in the airport a few weeks ago, and you felt as if you head placement on his chest was different - like he’d grown since you last saw him. Or maybe he hadn’t changed at all but your mind was finally coming out of a month long fog that it slipped in without him, getting readjusted to being in his arms.
“Hi sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, peppering kisses all along your hairline and temple like he physically couldn’t leave an inch of the side of your face untouched.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked, pure wonder in his tone as he nudged the side of your face with his chin, making you lift your head from his chest and look at him. “I just talked to you this morning, said you were going to see your parents before everything got locked down again.”
“Yeah, well. I lied.” you smiled, leaning in to press kiss after kiss to his lips, trying your best to control the insane happiness rushing through your veins. Your response seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t ask another question wondering why you were in LA. Which was good for you because your plan wasn’t to explain everything on the front porch.
The three of you stayed frozen in that same position, Harry’s arm so tight around you that your face was completely buried in his hoodie, and the other arm holding Bella, forming a makeshift group hug, not bothering to worry about anyone seeing you or anything going on past the wooden archway. Because nothing else mattered. Not when you were with the two people who made your world spin.
“Daddy.” Bella’s timid voice finally broke you apart, both you and Harry leaning back a bit so that you could put your full attention on the little girl in his arms.
“I lied too.”
“What did you lie about?”
She lifted her head from his shoulder in order to look at him with a very concerned expression, like she felt deeply sorry for whatever she was about to say to him. “I don’t have a pizza. ‘M sorry. Mumma told me it was funny.”
“Oh did she now?” Harry mocked in offence, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows.
“Mhm. But it wasn’t, ‘cause we don’t have any.”
“That’s right. But sometimes it’s okay to say something silly like that and not feel bad as long as it’s not something to hurt anyone, right? And daddy isn’t mad. How about you mumma?” Harry looked to you, trying not to smile at how adorable Bella was about the little fib. You shook your head.
“Not at all.”
“And what about you, B.B? Are you sad you told daddy there was pizza?”
She contemplated it for a bit, scrunching her nose up - again, just like her father - and looking around like the answer would be hanging in the air somewhere. “Yeah.” she said matter of factly. “But ‘cause I want pizza. And we don’t have any.”
Both you and Harry couldn’t help the laughs that fell from your lips, wasting no time before leaning forward to press a kiss to Bella’s forehead. “How about we get some then?” he asked against her skin, glancing at you when saying his next bit. “We’ll get your bags from the car and order one?”
“Oh god!” you yelled, turning around to face the car from which you’d just ran from. “Completely forgot Glenne was sitting in there! She’s probably been texting Jeff about how annoying we are.”
“Annoyingly adorable, yeah.”
“Think she’d fight you on that one. Nearly made her sick on the drive here with how excited I was to see you.” your laugh was muffled as Harry wrapped his arm back around your neck, dragging you in a headlock down the first step towards the car. Bella, knowing that it was time to bring in the bags, wiggled out of Harry’s grasp and sprinted down the steps ahead of you, right into the arms of a now out and about Glenne.
“Everything’s alright?” Harry’s voice was laced with concern now that your little one was out of ear shot. You both tried your hardest to never have any sort of talk about negative things around her, whether that be an argument or things going on in life, because she should never have to be put through the stress of that. Most of the time you just waited until she was asleep to talk about those things, but sometimes it meant going into different rooms and closing the doors.
“Everything’s alright, right? You didn’t come all the way out here because something’s wrong, did you?” quickly forgotten was your position in a headlock, and instead, Harry kept his arm around your neck, your body fitting perfectly tucked into his side. You walked step by step to meet your friend and daughter, who already started pulling suitcases out of the boot.
You took a peek up to him, noticing he was already glancing down at you, his eyes roaming all over your face to look for any sign of distress that he may have missed when he first saw you. But you had none to offer him. “Yeah baby, everything’s okay. Just needed to be with you.”
“Swear? You’d tell me if there was something?”
“Of course I would. Always.”
“Alright, professor. But if I find out you were hiding something, I’ll have to write a diss track.”
“Oh will you now?”
“Mhm. Thems the rules.”
Glenne spent a bit of time with the three of you before heading off, telling you to enjoy your time together and even throwing in a little joke about maybe even making a new baby since she missed how little Bella used to be. The comment made your ears warm and a weird feeling flutter through your stomach, but she gave you no time to respond before she shuffled out the door.
Since arriving at Harry’s, Bella practically refused to leave his arms, wanting to be as close to him as possible until she really realized that no one was going anywhere for quite a bit. And her thoughts must have quieted enough because not even twenty minutes after Glenne walked out the front door, Bella was running through the house towards one of the extra rooms she’d be sleeping in.
“Mumma! Come help me! We gotta show daddy!” her already soft voice was even soft as she yelled from the second floor, her request forcing you to get up from the sofa.
“What are we showing me?”
“She’s really proud of her Halloween costume this year. Spent weeks planning it out, you know?”
“I know. She wouldn’t budge anytime I asked her. Very secretive that one.”
“Hmm, wonder where she gets that from?” you sang while walking up the stairs, letting out a snort when you saw him lift a middle finger to you from his position still on the sofa, not even bothering to turn around to look at you as you continued towards your daughter.
“Alright baby, I’m here! Where do you want me?” you clapped, entering Bella’s room in a way that mimicked that of Harry Lambert, something that you knew she’d recognize right away from the amount of times she’s seen her parents being helped by the stylist.
“Over here, mumma. Gotta help me button!” she had already rid herself of the clothes she’d been wearing on the drive to Harry’s, the green long sleeve shirt and jeans laid in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed while she stood in just her knickers, searching through the small suitcase on her bed for all the pieces to her costume.
You took a seat on the floor next to where she was standing, watching her every move as she finally found everything she was looking for. Her tongue stuck out while she took the fabric between her fingers and gently held it in her hands - taking a moment to look at it in awe - before turning and holding it out to you, expectantly.
“Gotta be careful with it, mumma.”
“Oh I know. They’re really delicate, aren’t they?”
“Mhm. Reedy told me to be gentle with ‘em ‘cause they were made with extra love so they’re extra soft.”
“Oh that’s perfect! They’ll be on for quite a while so it’s good that it’s all comfortable.”
You look notice of how long her hair had grown while zipping up the back of her shirt, the curls continuously falling against your fingers despite being held over her shoulder by Bella. You knew well enough even before she was born that she was going to have gorgeous hair, all it took was one look at the locks cascading from her father to tell you that, but it seemed to grow even more mesmerizing by the day. It fell loose past her shoulders every day, always managing to fall in front of her eyes while she was sprawled out on the floor playing. Even though you did enjoy how cute she looked pushing the crazy curls out of her face while her little tongue stuck out, you knew it was time for a trim soon.
“Are you wanting a haircut soon?” you asked while zipping her pants as well.
“Hmm, I don’t think so. I like it long.”
“How about we see if we can get rid of some of these dry bits at least?”
Bella thought about it for a bit, picking at her nails while mulling over the idea of going back to the salon. “Yeah, I think that’s fine.”
“Alright, we’ll see about making an appointment when we get back home. Gives you some time to think it over.”
“Okay! Y’almost done mumma? ‘M excited.” she bounced in place, trying her best not to move so that you could finish getting her ready as fast as possible.
“All set!” you checked, reaching up to grab her hair out of her grasp and let it fall down her back. “Just put the jacket on and you’re all set to show daddy.”
“He’s gonna be so happy I know it!” she squealed, carefully picking up and putting on the final part to her costume and turning to look in the floor length mirror. Bella didn’t say anything for a minute, taking the time to examine herself in the mirror. She smoothed the fabric covering her torso, lifted her feet in order to see the little pair of boots, and had one of the largest smiles you’d ever seen on her. “I look so good!”
“You do, lovie! Award winning I’d say.”
“Thank you for helping! Lets go!!” she yelled, darting towards the door and only stopping at the top of the stairs when you called for her, reminding her to be careful by the steps. The two of you quickly discussed your plan before departing ways, leaving Bella a bouncing mess just above you as you walked down to the light switch at the bottom of the steps.
Flicking all the lights off, you cleared your throat and waited for Harry, who had gotten up off the sofa upon hearing your descending footsteps and was now leaning against the back of the furniture, his bum resting just on top of the back, to give you his full attention. Although the lights were off, it was still early enough in the evening that light showed through the windows, allowing you to see his face and make sure Bella got down the stairs safely.
“You all know him as 2013’s Teen Choice Male Hottie -”
“Also 2016.” Harry cut in, trying and failing to stifle his chuckle
“Also 2016’s” you added, “and lead roles in Award Winning pictures such as This Is Us and iCarly.” at this point, it was obvious what was happening and you could tell Harry was fully on board with what was about to walk down the stairs. But he was also so excited. He no longer was leaning against the sofa, but now standing upright and his hands were pressed together in a praying position in front of his mouth. “Introducing, the incredibly talented, musically gifted, style icon of the decade, Mr. Harry Edward Styles!”
The second you saw that Bella made it safely to the ground next to you, you flicked on the dim lights that just illuminated the staircase, showering your daughter in the closest thing you could get to a spotlight. She was standing in Harry’s signature position; bent forward slightly with one hand held in a peace sign while the other dangled loosely by her side and mouth open wide. Harris Reed had taken the time to make Bella a nearly exact replica of the white and black floral suit Harry had worn to the 2015 AMA’s - the suit that really started it all when it came to Styles’ fashion. Her curls were hanging past her shoulders just like Harry’s were at the time, and for good measure, she even lifted her hand to push some out of her face exactly like he used to.
She was a spitting image of Harry. And he loved it.
“Oh my god! You’re kidding! You look fantastic! Gonna put me out of a job! I won’t even need to go on stage anymore. This is amazing!” he screeched, rushing forwards and couching down in front of his daughter. He took in every last detail of the outfit; how the under shirt had buttons but did not open from the front (something Harris thought would be easier for Bella to get in and out of), how the floral detail was exactly the same as the one he had hanging in his closet back home (Reed had asked Alessandro for the fabric), and how even the shoes were a near replica.
“Mhm. I can sing next time. I’ll go up and sing to your friends and you can sit and watch and talk to Mitchy.” she nodded, taking a step back and belting out ‘You’re so Golden!’ “See? Like that!”
Harry beamed. “Absolutely! Give me a nice break every now and again, very thoughtful. We’ll just have to change your bedtime and it’s all set!”
“You like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she moved right in front of Harry, her hands grasping the hood of his hoodie and she looked directly into his eyes.
“I love it - and you - more than there are stars in the sky!” Harry responded without hesitation, grabbing her and lifting her into his arms, swinging Bella around quickly enough to let a few giggles. “Thank you very much, beautiful, it makes me very happy.”
“Can’t believe you wanted to be your smelly old dad.” he joked when she pushed against his chest to look at him, “See me everyday, why’d you wanna dress up like me too?
“‘Cause you dress the best, daddy!”
“Ohhhh hear that, love?” he turned to look directly at you, Bella now hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment on saying her dad dressed better than her mum. “I’m the best dressed.” Harry stuck his tongue out at you.
The reaction from Harry was everything Bella was expecting and more. So much so that she could no longer fight the exhaustion of the hectic day any longer. She barely made it five minutes in Harry’s arms before finally passing out. In the coming December, she’d be turning five and you were trying to start and wean her off of taking long naps, but after such an energetic day you welcomed the time for her to rest. She put up a fight getting out of Harry’s arms, the arm she had shoved into Harry’s hood in order to thread her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, tightened each time he tried to pull her away to lay her in bed. Like even in her unconscious state she wanted to know that seeing Harry again wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
It was heavenly to be back with Harry. Even though you had only been apart for such a short amount of time, there was so much to catch up on, and you would never get tired of hearing about everything going on in his life.
“And they used this stuff called Dermacol, and I swear, she swiped over it once and the anchor was gone. Bloody insane seeing it all bare. Hasn’t been that year in years.” Harry laughed, finishing his story of how his first few days on set had gone, the two of you laying in his bed while you waited for the pizza you ordered while he put Bella down for a nap.
“Don’t wash it off tomorrow. I want to see.” you tilted your head back so that it was resting on Harry’s shoulder, in order to look at him. He was sitting behind you, his back pressed against the headboard while you were nestled between his legs, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him again. “Forget what you look like without any ink.”
“Like them though, right?”
“Of course I do. Think they’re very hot.”
He didn’t say anything for a bit, just let his fingers dance up and down your arms, clearly lost in thought. “I wish you could come to set. See everything and everyone.” he finally spoke.
“I know. I just don’t want to chance anything you know? We just traveled and I know we got tested, but I don’t want to unknowingly bring anything to anyone. Maybe soon, once we’ve been here for a bit. But for now, I’d rather just hear all your stories and FaceTime than anything happen to anyone.”
“What time is your call time tomorrow?” you added when he only hummed in response.
“6:45. Car will probably come by around 6 and I should be back near 2. Have a bit of a short day tomorrow.”
“Yes rush. I wanna be with you both. Missed you loads, ya know? Only gone for a few weeks but I was going mad. Don’t think we should separate for a while.” his voice was soft as his neck strained forward in order to press loving kisses to the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder.
Since the moment you met Harry a decade ago, it was obvious he always knew what to say. He had a knack for spewing out the words you most needed to hear exactly when you needed to hear them. Whether it was comforting your stage fright, in an argument about tv or film characters, helping you pick out outfits, discussing your relationship, or talking about the future, you both seemed to be on the same wavelength. It made life with him so much easier, because you knew that he understood you. You knew that no matter what happened, he would support you and love you. And that’s all you needed.
So you decided finally, after the pit of anxiety in your stomach grew and grew all day, that it was finally time.
“Pretty good you feel that way. ‘Cause I wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you that you’re kind of stuck with me. At least for another fourteen years.”
“Hmm. Want more than that.”
Taking a deep breath, hands shaking and mind running a mile a minute, you asked; “How about another eighteen after that?”
But your nerves were all for nothing because the comment flew right over Harry’s head. Completely missed the point of why you used that specific amount of time and was more focused on giving your middle a tight squeeze - his arms moving from their place at your side to around your stomach.
“Mhm. Even longer than that.”
The words brought an image to mind, one you found yourself thinking about a lot the last couple weeks. One of you and Harry sitting in the living room in your home, talking to your grown children while your grandchildren ran around you happily, doing their best to animatedly explain ways of the world you just couldn’t comprehend. And the pure glee you felt being surrounded by such a beautiful family, one that you created with Harry. But you knew it wasn’t just some fantasy you would dream about. It was something that you would one day get to experience, and that excitement pushed you over the edge.
“You’re stuck with me forever, baby.” you hummed, sinking further into his hold. “But for five seconds, I need you to leave me so you can grab me a Tums.” the anxiety nerves reared their head yet again, knowing there was no missing the punchline this time.
Concern instantly flooded his voice, taking you by the shoulders and moving you away from his chest and to the right so he could look at your face. “Why? You feeling alright? What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t help but simple sweetly at his concern, lifting a hand to rest it on his smoothly clean shaven cheek. “Yeah. You know how I get after flying. Do you mind just grabbing the Tums from my bag?” you asked again, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel the uptick in your breathing.
“You mean one of the nine hundred bags you brought?” Harry joked but still carefully slid out from behind you in order to get whatever you needed.
“Hey, we’re gonna be here a while. I need options.” Because of Covid, the UK was heading into yet another lockdown at the start of November, lasting until the first week of December so for now, so for now, you knew you and Bella would be spending at least a month with Harry in Los Angeles.
“Can take any of my clothes.” he grinned, turning around to face the bed again and bent down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Y’know I love when you wear my clothes.”
“Oi! Say that again but let me record it! If that’s the case, I never want to hear you complain about missing clothes ever again!”
“I said I like you wearing them, not keeping them hidden away for me to find three years later.” he laughed at the memory of his favorite blue hawaiian shirt going missing after getting back from Jamaica, only for it to be found in the back of your closet when moving a few months ago. His voice got quieter the farther he walked from the bed, the confines of the walk in closet filled with his clothes muffling the words towards the end of his sentence.
“Alright, but remember how excited you were to find it after so long? Like Christmas in the summer!”
“‘S’that what’s gonna start happening? You just stealing things I haven’t looked at in years and regifting them?”
“Lord knows you don’t need any more things laying around. Probably wouldn’t even notice anything being gone.” it was true. Over the years, Harry had gathered a very large collection of… things. Everything from clothes to lockets to key cards from hotels, and being in the career he is, he can afford to have it all. But even you had to say he had more than he knew what to do with most of the time, to which he always had some sort of rebuttal for.
But this time, it never came.
This time, you were met with silence from inside the closet, and you had no control over the way your hands began shaking. There were so many different kinds of silence; one of anger, of shock, nervousness, confusion, but any of those were a rarity when it came to Harry. He was someone who always had something to say, despite the emotions running through him. Silence was never really his thing, hell he even said so in a song, so the ideas of what could be running through his head started to eat you alive.
After waiting a few minutes and still receiving no sound of life from the smaller room, you began to get worried. Obviously nothing had happened to him while you were sitting feet away, but what was happening in there? Did he have a heart attack as soon as saw what you had laid out on top of your suitcase when he was ordering food? Did he fall and hit his head? Was he trying to find a good way to break up with you? No, he wouldn’t do that, you knew he wouldn’t do that. But before you could fully get off of the bed to check on him, he slowly sauntered out of the room, staring down at the piece of black fabric gripped tightly in his hands, and you halted in your spot - sitting up right on the side of his bed with your feet dangling off the side.
“Wha - what is this?” his whisper was so unbelievably low, you were surprised you could make out any of the words.
“What do you think it is?” you replied, your voice equally as loud so not to spook him while he was in such a clear state of shock.
“I - I don’t know.”
He still had taken his eyes off of the material in his hands, looking at it like it held every secret unknown to man somewhere within its seams.
“I think you do know.”
Finally, Harry lifted his head in order to look at you. And you felt your eyes water as soon as he did. The rims of his eyes and nose were a deep red, the kind of red you get when trying desperately to hold in sobs. His eyes were a brighter shade of green as more and more tears obstructed his vision, and now that you looked at him properly, his entire body seemed to be shaking.
“If this is a joke, it’s really fucking mean.” he choked out, putting all of his effort into holding back his cries. “Please don’t joke about this.”
As hard as he was trying not to let his tears flow, you were beyond the point of no return. Your cheeks were stained with tears, old dried ones leaving tracks for the new ones to flow freely down, and the lump in your throat prevented you from speaking as loud and confidently as you would have liked.
“It’s not a joke, Harry.” you shook your head, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.
Harry went back to not saying anything, glancing between you and the black in his hand, not knowing which held more important information. You could see the inner struggle he was having trying to comprehend what was happening, and you wanted to get up and yell it to him. But he needed to go through whatever emotions he needed to, at his own pace.
So you waited for him to do just that.
“So you - you’re pregnant?” he finally sighed, the question making the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren’t watching every inch of his face like a hawk. Holding back his tears was long gone as they now flowed down his cleanly shaven cheeks.
“I’m pregnant.” you smiled, the words coming out in one whoosh of air.
So fast that you didn’t understand how he did it, the black shirt - that at first glance was a replica of the logo for the film The Godfather, but when taking a double take, could be found to read The Twinfather instead - was laying in a pile on the floor in front of the closet door and Harry was laying on top of you. Now on your back with Harry hovering above you, both of his forearms on either side of your head, you could fully see the overwhelming joy swimming in his eyes. The last time you had seen this exact look was the day Bella was born. Like within his mind, he was watching the entire world unfold with endless possibilities and unfathomable love.
Harry didn’t let you say anything before he was pressing kisses to your lips, both of your tears making the experience feel a bit slippery as they blended together on your skin. But nothing could make the moment anything less than perfect. Harry’s warmth covered you like a blanket, completely consuming you within the personal bubble that had formed around you on the bed. His lips moved against your with determination, but also care and gratitude, the vaguely strawberry flavored lip balm he was wearing smeared against your own lips, letting the memory of this moment linger for hours to come.
“You’re really pregnant?” Harry asked, his excitement taking over once he pulled back from the kiss.
“Yeah baby,’m pregnant.”
“And is it? It’s - it’s twins? Are you sure? How do you know?” although you knew he would always be there with and for you during all of this, it was reassuring to see him be so ecstatic about the new addition to your family.
“When B and I went to get our Covid tests, the lady asked me if there was a chance I could be pregnant, and - and I couldn’t give her a confident no. So I called Dr. Kelter to see if I could get an appointment before we left and she took me the same day.” your smile grew as you watched him hold on to your every word, wanting to know every single detail you had to give him.
“And she told you it was twins?”
“Yeah. Said she could see them both right away since they can see twins so early. Said ‘m about eleven weeks.” the tears returned to your eyes when you thought about being pregnant again, how much your life was going to change and the excitement that was about to be brought into your lives.
Obviously Harry was feeling the same before he let out another sob, this time his upper half falling onto your chest and burying his face in your neck, his lower body seeming to unconsciously stay away from crushing your belly.
“I love you so fucking much.” he whispered, and you could feel the ever so gentle peck of his lips against your skin. “So fucking much.”
“I love you, Harry.” you whispered back.
“Who knows?” he asked, undoubtedly thinking back to when you were pregnant with Bella and everyone in your lives seemed to know before he did. Something you regretted, but was necessary at the time.
“No one. Just you and me. Want to do everything with you this time.” not wanting to ruin the moment, but also wanting to be realistic for a moment in your clouded minds, you took a second to figure out how to say the concerns that were rushing through your mind at a mile a minute. “I know things are crazy right now and the world is scary and we’re both so busy, but we said if it happened, it happened.”
Harry was pushed up on his forearm in an instant, his other hand cupping your cheek in order to drag your attention to him. He was positively glowing. How only a second ago he was standing pale faced in the closet doorway was beyond you, because now, it was like the sun shined behind his irises.
“I have never been happier in my entire life. We’ll figure it all out together. Like we always do.”
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Arthur being touched for the first time <3
Summary: Arthur asks you to spent the night with him for the first time but soon you realize that he is very insecure abut being touched and you have to be very careful & patient with him.
Feeling Arthurs arms around you, protective and warm like a shelter, while you both cuddled upon the couch to spent a movie night together was everything you ever asked for. Yo have fantasized about this kind of situation since you first moved to Anderson Avenue and asked him out for a date. This was a couple of months ago and today was the first time he asked you to stay for the night.
You knew what this could mean. Anything was possible tonight. Tasting him, breathing him, sleeping with him....
You crawled deeper into his arms as you fantasized about him grabbing you and kiss you until you`re out of breath.
Arthur smiled down at you while he gently stroke your hair. Your head resting in his lap. Your hand touching the silky fabric of his PJ pants. It was impossible not to get turned on by his presence. Everything about Arthur made you want him. His soothing voice when he told you about his fave scenes of the romanic comedy you just watched. The way his intense eyes glanced down on you. His beautiful laughter when one of his fave jokes came up. His facial features when he was smiling.
It was haven to just rest in his lap but at the same time it was torture not to get more of him. Your whole body was yearing for his hands to touch you. For your hands to discover his beautiful body. For his kiss. One week ago you had your first kiss and after that there was nothing but sleepless nights and daydreams about tasting him again. His kiss was different from any other kisses you every experienced before. Shy, insecure even with an incredible intensivity that didnt matched the shyness that came with it. First he seemed like he didnt knew what to do, bt once your tongues started their dance he was all there. He was so present and real and raw with such gentleness. You just couldnt wait to kiss him again. So why didnt you just go for it ?
Arthrus behavious made you doubt if he wanted to. He didnt even tried to kiss you again. But he didnt seem mind your head resting on his lap.
"Arthur?" you whispered.
"I love you so much. With all my heart. With all thats within me. You know that right?"
Arthurs finger brushed your cheek "I know....and I love you. I never loved anything else more in my life".
You smiled. Maybe this was the right moment to get him to do something. Your hand started to stroke his inner thighs through the fabric while you changed your position so your lips could reach his tummy. You slowly pulled up his white shirt so you could kiss his belly button. It was the first time you ever kissed a body part beside his cheeks or lips. You needed to know how his skin tasted like. Every inch of it. You wodered if every body part of his tasted differently. You needed to find out. You needed to get to know the man you adored so much. You needed him to know how much you worshipped him. His tummy was your weak spot. God, how good it felt to finally kiss it.
Arthur tensed up uder the touch of your lips. You asked yourself if you did something wrong. Your hand slowly wandered up under his shirt and started to caress his chest. Arthur froze. You just felt that here was something that made him feel uncomfortable. Was it the way you touched him? Did you do something wrong? Or maybe....maybe he didnt even thought of you that way?
His arm was still around you but he didnt reacted to your touch at all. Maybe he didnt liked to have his chest touched? Or maybe your hand felt cold? You decited to get your hand out of his shirt again and placed your fingers on the waistband of his PJ pants. You started to play with it, as if you were about to get your fingers in there. Oh how much you wanted to. The heavenly taste of his skin still lingered on the corner of your lips. You wandered how this part of his body would taste. How it would feel inside of you.
Suddenly Arthurs hand grabed your wrist, stopping you from tocuhing him. You felt a sharp pain within your heart as he said "Please stop". You felt embarassed about the fact that your eyes started to water. But hearing him say you should stop touching him was your worst fear. You never loved anything more than the sensation of being close to him. To feel teh warmth of his body. And now it seemed like he didnt felt the same way about you.
You swallowed a tear. Your wrist still between his hand. He held it gentle but tight. "Arthur? I`m...I`m sorry...I though.....I didnt wanted to....oh god. I must have thought something wrong....I...."
Arthur let go of your wrist "Nahh....its me. Its just....me. Its always me" he mumbled, turning his face away from you. It hurt. Everything about this hurt you deep on the inside. "What do you mean, Artie? Did I....touch you wrong or anthing?"
"Are you okay, Arthur?"
You noticed a tear faling from his eyelids as he faced you again "No, I`m not" . Arthur pressed his head against your shoulder, shivering. You stroke his curls as he leaed closer into you. "What´s wrong? You know that you can tell me anything, right?"
Arthur sniffed "Its embarrasing...."
"There is nothing to be ashmamed about, Arthur. You are save with me!"
Arthur nodded into your shoulder, trying to catch his breath. His legs started bouncing. "I`m not used to......this. I mean....being touched."
His words surprised you. There was such loneliness in his voice. Such despair.
"Actually I´ve never received a loving touch in my whole life....or kisses. Its so....overwhelming. Your hands....I really do feel how much you love me when you´re touching me Y/N. I feel it and I want to give it back to you. But I dont know how..... I`m a terrible boyfriend. right? i don even know what to do. your hand is so loving and its all too much."
You played with the curls dancing in his neck. how was it even possible, that a beautiful soul like him never received a loving touch in his life? His confession saddened you deeply ."Oh Arthur. I´m sorry. I didnt knew how you felt about being touched. I wouldnt have done it if I knew you didnt wanted it."
Arthur lifted his head to look you in the eyes "Oh. I want it. I want it so bad and I graved it for so long it actually hurts to finally feel it. It hurts but in a good way. I was yearnng to be touched like this forever. I just never thought one day it would become reality. This is just too good to be true and if something is too good to be true I doubt its real. And I dont wanna doubt you. I know you`re real. But if you touch me like this....I feel like I`m hallucinating again. I dont know what to say....or how to explain it to you. I tend to hallucinate a lot. And....touches always have been a part of this. So I guess your hands and lips loving me like this triggered me in some way...."
"Arthur, I`m so sorry...."
"Dont be!" Arthur put his finger to your lips. "Shhhht. Dont be!"
He kissed you. Softly on the corner of your lips.
"There is another thing. I`m embarrassed to tell you...."
You stroke his blushing cheek "Tell me"
"I`ve never been with a woman before..."
"I`m a freaking virgin" Arthur shook his head as if he couldnt belive it himself.
"A 35 year old virgin. And.....I want you. I want you so bad it scares me. I want to take you and make you mine and in my fantasy I give you everything you need and want from me. But I dont know how and I dont want to do anything wrong. And maybe when I start I cant stop myself and.....sometimes I`m losing my shit. I dont wanna lose it and I dont wanna lose you. I just want to.....share this with you. With you only. I want you to be my ....first. Bu I dont wanna ruin it. It would be so fullfilling to .....you know...." Arthurs voice cracked...
You took his face between your hands "Oh Arthur....if only you knew how much I adore you. There is nothing to be embarassed about. To be honest....its very special to me that you want me to be your first."
"Really?" he said, like he couldnt belive what you just told him.
"Yes and belive me, there is no way you could ever ruin it. There is you and there is me and the love we hold for each other. Our skin and lips and breaths and our souls which are connected on a higher level. How could anything go wrong? Lets just....be close to each other..."
Arthur placed sloppy kisses all over your face "I cant belive how lucky I am" he muttered between the kisses. He stopped to look you in the eyes "Just go slow with me okay? Ignore it when my muscles tense up. I want this. Just continue loving me slowly until I can relax. Its just....I need to get used to this kind of...love".
You opened the upper bottom of his shirt "I promise I will. Is it okay for me to unbotton your shirt?"
Once his shirt was unbottoned you asked him to kiss his chest. Arthur agreed as he closed his eyes, leaning back on the couch. Your lips traveled all over his fragile chest, the very, very thin and few hair tickelish against your bottom lip before you kissed his collarbones, his neck.....
"Mhhhhh" Athur breathed
"How does it feel, darling?"
"W-wonderful" he stuttered. "I didnt knew how good neck kisses are" he smiled.
If only he knew how much more you would give him.
Your hot breath felt good behind his ear as you started to suck in a tiney part of his skin.
"Oh my god. This feels amazing. What are you doing?"
"Leaving a little mark of my love for you" you grinned while you kept sucking until a small hikey decorated his neck. The taste of Arthurs skin filled your mouth. You just couldnt get enough of him.
"Kiss me!" a muffled moan escaping his lips "Please!"
You took his face between your hands and tilted your head. Arthurs tiney, crooked tooth was clacking against yours before your tongue found its way into his mouth. Arthurs tongue felt warm and wet circeling around yours. You felt his hands around your waist. He tasted like soda and cigarettes. And love. Mostly like love. Before your lips parted again you coudlnt resist to place the most gently kiss upon his upper lip scar. Arthur smiled happily.
"Are you okay Arthur? Does it feel good?"
"Do you want more?"
"I think so" his little voice melted your heart which was so full of him you felt like it could explode any minute. Kissing him made you want all of him. But you reminded yourself to be patient with him.
You carefully let your fingers wander up and down his chest and belly. His shoulders and arms. You let your index finger stroke along his unusual looking shoulder bone. "I know my shoulder looks weird" he whispered. "Its beautiful" you replied, kissing along the bone which was sticking out in a unique way "Like every oher part of you. Inside and out".
"Its dark sometimes" Arthur said "...on the inside".
Your hands traveled down his back "You`re shining, Arthur. You shine your light upon me. I can feel it. I feel it all over me and it gets inside and lights me up. "
"You`re the first one who sees my light" Arthur swallowed hard.
"How could anyone not see it?"
"I dont know" his hand touched your face "I always knew it was there but no one ever saw me".
"I see you" you kissed his forehead.
"I feel you" you kissed the tiney wrinkles beneath his eyes.
"You`re so beautiful, Arthur. I could break out in tears just by looking at you. "
"No one ever called me beautiful before. No one ever talked to me except my mother".
You kisses along is waistband. Slowly. You wanted to go slow. To make sure he was feeling fine. Not to rush him.
"Its okay" he said "You can .... do whatever you want now. I feel good. "
You gently stroke over his growing erection "Not today, darling. We got all the time we need in our hands. Just take your time okay? There is no need to hurry. Today is the first day of forever with you,"
Arthur wrapped his arms around you and pulled you as close as it was physically possible "Forever sounds just perfect".
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Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Pairing: Adora x F!Reader
AU: Modern + high school
A/N: Haven’t had the easiest time being able to write lately, but I saw a prompt and realised that we still don’t have school girl Adora being the pining dork that we deserve. I wasn’t going to post today because I didn’t have anything queued up, but I whipped up this little fic last minute so that you guys don’t feel neglected. Posting schedule will (hopefully) resume as normal next week. As always, your support and patience is gratefully appreciated. Thank you, my loves <33
Oh, yeah! One more thing! This is a little bit different from my other work where the pov is focused on the reader. This time, we’re going inside Adora’s mind so that you lassies can see how much she loves ya :)
Adora could hear you speaking, your lips were moving, but your voice echoed in her ears and she couldn’t decipher what you were saying even if she tried to zone back into the conversation.
The corner of Adora’s lips tugged up into a half grin, but she gave no response. Honestly, she hadn’t even heard you. She was enthralled by the adorably aggravated look on your face—the little twitch of your brow that gave away your annoyance, the deadpan look in your eyes, the pursed lips... It should have made her afraid, probably, but all Adora’s mind could think about was how cute you looked whenever you were exasperated—
Wait a minute. Exasperated. Exasperated? You were exasperated? Why?
Adora shook herself back into the present and some of the haze from her eyes disappeared. She was leaning so close to you, she could see every individual eyelash. With a hammering heart, she quickly sunk back into her seat, an expression that could only be interpreted as sheepishness on her face.
Daydreaming wasn’t anything new to Adora, and you had known her long enough to be prepared for her little moments of self-reflection, or whatever the hell went on inside that girl’s head. Ever since that night a couple of weeks ago, however, when she finally confessed her feelings to you and got a taste of what your lips were like on hers and how right your fingers felt intertwined—Adora still couldn’t believe that night was real—it was all Adora could think about. It consumed her every waking thought, and at night, when she dreamt, all she dreamt of was the moment she could feel that way again.
“Adora.” You sighed and set down your pen, fixing the other girl with a look of exasperated fondness.
Adora could basically read your thoughts as you looked at her, it was clear as day in your expression: What am I going to do with you? The tender look in your eyes made warmth spread from her chest up to her cheeks.
“Heh-Uhm-I mean, yes?” she stammered, lacing her fingers together over the desk to stop them from fidgeting.
You shook your head and closed the folder and laptop, hopping into the seat next to Adora’s.
It’d been a while since Adora had felt you this close to her. Since you agreed to take things slowly and see where your relationship went, you had tried to set some boundaries so that your friendship wouldn’t get mixed up with the more romantic aspect of your budding relationship.
Adora was completely failing. She could smell your hair and your perfume, and she hadn’t felt your warmth like this in what felt like forever. She was surely about to combust, at the very least have a nosebleed.
When you placed your hand on her arm, Adora was sure her soul had left her body. God, she knew she was being totally clingy and desperate, right now her neediness made her hardly different from a prepubescent boy, but really, could she be blamed? All she wanted was to be able to kiss you and hold your hand. Before she knew what you felt like, it was easy to imagine and distract herself, but now? She was going utterly mad.
“Hey.” You frowned and rubbed Adora’s shoulder gently, your eyes searched her face. “What’s wrong? Your mind is really far away today. Are you feeling okay?”
“I-Uh, yeah. I guess so.” Adora replied, awkwardly scratching at the back of her neck. “Just distracted s’all.”
You hummed. Your gaze didn’t stray from her face as you scrutinised her. “Well, you keep staring at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have a bone to pick.”
Your teasing tone was not lost on Adora. It actually made her smile. “I’m sorry! It’s the complete opposite, really. I just—” Adora caught herself.
You tilted your head and offered Adora a smile. Your fingers strayed without you really thinking, trailing down Adora’s ponytail to play with the ends of her hair.
You might have not noticed, but Adora’s breath got caught in her throat. You were finally touching her! Wow, she had really missed this. She could almost weep.
“Don’t get shy with me, Adora. What’s on your mind?”
Adora looked away. She wasn’t sure she could look you in the eyes and admit that all she could think about every time she looked at you was just leaning over to close the distance between you and stealing a kiss.
“Adora...” You chased her gaze, but Adora pointedly turned away.
“It’s embarrassing,” Adora mumbled. Just thinking those thoughts with you so close was enough to send all the blood in her body rushing to her ears, cheeks, and neck.
“Have you forgotten who I am, Adora? I’m used to 'embarrassing'. I promise, whatever it is won’t even phase me. Let me help you.”
Adora bit her lip, but the earnestness in your voice was all you needed to convince her. Damn, she was such a sucker for your exclusive attention and the honeyed sweetness of your voice. It was one of the things that had made her fall so head over heels for you in the first place.
“Fine,” she sighed, clasping her hands together. “... I just... Ireallywannakissyouandmaybeholdyourhandagain...?”
“Uh... A bit slower, please?”
Forcing the words past her lips was nearly impossible for Adora. It was torturous. Then that one minute of silence that followed where you were trying to process her words? Yeah, Adora was hoping the ground would just swallow her up already. Would it be rude if she just left all of her belongings with you and ran out? Maybe she could just draw the strings of her hoodie around her face and hide inside of it like a turtle. Or maybe—
You took one of Adora’s hands and laced your fingers together with a giggle.
Adora’s heart swooned. Your hands were so warm and soft and slotted perfectly with hers. Her fingers wrapped over yours like it was second nature.
“Uhhhh...” Yeah. She had definitely short-circuited.
You bumped your shoulder against Adora’s and grinned. “So, you wanted to kiss me and hold my hand that bad, huh?”
Adora’s face softened even more. “Well, yeah,” she admitted shyly. “I really like it—I mean, I like you, and I like this,” she raised your joined hands, “and also your lips. Thosearereallynice.” she rushed out.
“Well, I like holding your hands and kissing your lips too,” you said with a small laugh. “How about this. Let’s get half of this assignment done today, and then I’ll reward you with a kiss. What do you think?”
“Just one kiss?” Adora pouted. One kiss was good, but more kisses was even better. “This is a long assignment. Can we hold hands the entire time?” she asked hopefully.
“Well I can’t give you any kisses while we’re working, you’d get distracted, but I suppose we can hold hands as long as you want.”
“Yes!” The haze that Adora couldn’t shake off the past few weeks had begun to lift. “What about kisses when we’re done?”
“Hm... Fine. I’ll consider it, but you have to earn whatever kiss, or kisses, you get.”
“Okay!” Adora beamed. She could do that, for sure. “Deal.”
“And to start you off, I’ll even give you this one on the house.” You brushed a lingering kiss on Adora’s cheek, right over one of her dimples and pulled away with a beaming smile.
“Oh.” Adora squeaked. The little blood that had begun to return to their rightful places rushed back up to her cheeks. “Okay.” She was sure her palm was beginning to sweat a bit, but you gave her hand a small squeeze despite it and most of Adora’s nervousness faded away.
She opened up the laptop again and buckled down.
The entire time, she was vibrating in her seat. She could hardly contain her excitement. She was going to kiss you again! She couldn’t wait. This was all she wanted.
No other assignment in the world had been finished as quickly as this one.
The kisses Adora finally got were 100% worth the brain damage the assignment gave her.
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