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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Bring Me To The Precipice of Victory

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Summary: When Batman departs— just for a short time, just to patch things up in Gotham— things go horribly, horribly wrong in Paris.

He doesn’t know if he can come back from realizing that Marinette and Ladybug are one and the same (and that his daughter has died more times than he can count.) (all biodad bruce are posted in chronological order but can be read as stand alones)

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The moment of peace, of solidarity, that Batman shares with Ladybug up on that rooftop at night means the world.

After a minute or two, Ladybug pulls back, tear tracks down the sides of her face, eye and nose red. She takes another minute of silence,hugging herself in the muggy Parisian air. When she next opens her eyes, Batman can almost imagine that Ladybug never cried at all.

But he knows that's not true. Ladybug seemed so fragile in his arms. He can imagine— he can imagine Dick in her place, broken over Jason’s death. Tim losing his parents. All of his children facing insurmountable odds with no team by their side. Alone.

Ladybug is not alone, but functionally, she may as well be. He’s watched the fights. He’s analyzed them. Ladybug is always, always the leader. She strategizes with Ryuko and Viperion, but Ladybug is who everybody looks to for an answer when things don’t work out the way they want them to. She’s the one with the plan, the backup plan, the out. She’s the one who swoops in to save the day.

She’s also the one who has racked up the most hours on the battlefield. Even Chat Noir, her partner, only has three quarters of the hours that she’s put in. For most of the other members of her team, she puts in double, sometimes even triple of what they do. Over the course of six years, there have been a little under two thousand battles, lasting from under an hour to over five hours. Ladybug has shown up for every single one, without fail. That’s not even counting the patrols that they do; although Ladybug is given a lot of flack for not patrolling as often as Chat Noir, there’s a fundamental difference in how they patrol. Ladybug is methodical, Chat Noir is volatile.

He’s not a bad superhero when it comes down to battle, but the two of them are fundamentally different. Ladybug sees her time as a superhero as a duty. Chat Noir seems to view it as a time to unwind— and while that’s worrying, considering the information he’s gathered on the Miraculous Team so far points to the majority of them beings teens or young adults— it’s not what is needed to deal with the Paris situation.

Perhaps one of the easiest ways to see these differences is during patrol. Chat Noir uses patrol time almost seems to be an outlet for stress. He entices whoever he’s on patrol with to race to random places in Paris with no rhyme or reason. Whenever he comes across crime, he stops it, but Ladybug— Ladybug searches for crime.

Ladybug has a team and she trusts them with her life, but she cannot trust them to be responsible. That is perhaps the worst possible thing that can happen. And through the videos that he’s watched, it’s clear that the hours she puts in do affect her, and fairly heavily.

Whoever she is, she’s young. Too young to be in battle untrained, because they are untrained— despite being in the field for years, all of their basic form lacks and tells anybody with an experienced eye that they’ve never had formal training in martial arts.

When Batman and Ladybug leave the roof, they leave on a better note than where they started. Batman is still upset that Tom and Sabine are dead, but he cannot attribute it solely to Ladybug’s negligence. He admires the young heroine for rising to the occasion when there was nobody else to help. He has no doubt that with the resources and training that he can provide him and his operatives already on the case, Hawkmoth will be revealed in no time at all.

He’s right, but in the worst possible way.

It’s largely a mistake on hiss part-- he gets a notification that the Joker broke out of Arkham again, and Hawkmoth and Pavona are missing for the time being. Though Ladybug has made a mistake in not taking Pavona out immediately, she and her team have won every akuma and sentimonster battle. The logical course of action is to go where the most danger is.

Bruce does not have any predictive powers. There is no way for him to know what’s going to happen. But when he and his team finally catch the Joker and put him away again-- a feat that takes just a little under twenty four hours, extreme concentration, and a good number of injuries-- Batman finally gets a chance to breathe. The adrenaline from facing off against the Joker’s latest scheme fades. Batman reclines in a chair as Alfred binds his wounds and passes him pain relieving pills while he gets stitches in his abdomen.

He checks the news in Paris.

He almost drops the device that he’s using to view the news.

Marinette’s existence has been hidden from his family. With Dick, he was more concerned about his existence as Robin, rather than informing him that he had a sister. As soon as he started contemplating bringing up Marinette, Batman and Robin had a bad break. Then Jason came along, troubled and angry. Bruce didn’t want to introduce Marinette into the mix then because he was volatile.

Jason died due to Batman’s incompetence. Bruce grieved the loss of his ward; Batman was never allowed to mourn the loss of his second Robin.

Tim felt unworthy as the only child Bruce didn’t pick up off the streets, and Damian-- well, Damian was Damian. First he had a superiority complex the size of the Grand Canyon, and once he got accustomed to how they handled things in the Wayne Manor-- though Tim would argue that Damian is still not used to this kind of lifestyle-- he overcompensated every single mission and needed a remedial course on How to Interact With Other Humans 101. Add the overarching concern of Marinette being exposed to his vigilante life style and being unprepared for it, and he was never able to tell his children that he had another biological kid. A daughter.

When the news that Sabine and Tom died reached his ears, he told everybody he had business in Paris without elaborating what. With Wayne Enterprises opening a Paris branch of their R&D specialising in European artifacts, it was easy to draw connections that weren’t there.

“Bruce, you need to relax. Business in Paris can be dealt with later, you need to take the time to heal,” Tim says.

A clip in his shoulder from a bullet, knife wounds on his torso and legs, a sprained wrist. Whatever chemical experiment the Joker got his hands out still pumping through his veins. “I need to go-- it’s important--”

The pain relievers Alfred gave him earlier were also a sedative.

Tim catches him before he passes out.

He wakes up three hours late through sheer force of will.

“Paris!” Bruce jolts upright, still in costume, lying prone on a medical cot in the Batcave.

The first thing that catches his eyes is the red and black flying across the screens.

Ladybug.

His kids are all watching the screens with abject horror.

“Is this,” Tim wets his lips. “The business trip that you were on?”

Bruce drags himself out of bed, adrenaline washing out any residual pain. He doesn’t have the capacity to respond, he needs to get to the zeta tube, he needs to get to Paris, Ladybug is bleeding, the city is in shambles, and Marinette--

One of the news sites up on the screen declares the arrondissements that are obliterated. The one that houses Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie is amongst their number. An approximate death toll fills the static.

-- Marinette is likely among those lost. He has lost another child due to his inaction. Due to his inability to push through, to look forwards and predict the future and the consequences of his actions. Marinette is another Jason, but if Ladybug doesn’t get it together, she’ll be gone permanently. And Ladybug is little more than a child. She can’t handle it, not by herself, not with her team. She needs an experienced hero, and Batman will be there for her, be the one leading the charge against Hawkmoth as the civilians hide in their homes and pray for her Miracle Cure to reverse the damage.

Dick places a hand on his shoulder. Bruce tries to shrug it off, but his fingers dig into the place where the bullet clipped his flesh. The pain is just a reminder that if he does not get to Paris now, there will be thousands-- no, millions-- more who feel this pain. How did Marinette die? Was it an akuma? Did the rubble of one of the destroyed buildings fall on her? Did Ladybug even try to protect her?

“I need to go,” Bruce growls.

“You can’t. While you were out, the majority of the Justice League prohibited all travel via zeta tubes. Nobody can get into Paris right now.”

Bruce knocks Dick’s hand off his shoulder and turns to his eldest. At the very least, Dick and the rest of his children look solemn. Damian’s gaze is fixed to one of the screens that shows Ladybug. “A city is in danger, millions of lives are at risk, Marinette--”

His daughter is dead. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Standing by idly is the last thing he’ll let himself do.“Who put out the order? I’ll get them to reverse it.”

Dick moves so he’s between the zeta tube and Bruce. “B, you don’t understand. If you go to Paris right now, you’ll get akumatized.”

“I can handle my emotions.”

Jason points at the upper right section of screens that’s replaying past footage. “I wouldn’t bet Paris’ survival on it. Not when more level headed superheroes got on the scene first and failed. They really don’t need any heavy hitters getting akumatized. Not when Superman put three members of their team out of commission.”

Superman arrived on the scene first; it took a matter of seconds for him to get akumatized. He was responsible for razing down three arrondissements in no time flat. Ladybug had to call for a Lucky Charm in order to get her hands on some kryptonite, which forced her to recoup after her time ran out.

Black Canary arrived next. Then Red Tornado.

Both were akumatized in mere minutes.

“After Red Tornado got akumatized, Wonder Woman led the charge to put the rest of the zeta tubes on lockdown,” Duke says, grim. “All we can do now is hope that these Parisian superheroes can pull off a win.”

Bruce stumbles over to get a better view. He remembers Ladybug, small and slight in his arms. A child, crying over the loss of her pseudo parents.

A warrior, bloody and bruised and broken.

She is one of the last ones standing.

King Monkey and an ox themed hero both died at Superman’s hands. The former got in the way of his laser beams, the latter a victim of super strength and getting thrown through two buildings and having their necks snap at an unsightly angle. Chat Noir was also sent hurtling through the air, and the only reason he was still alive was because Ladybug alighted from the sky and grabbed him before he got sent through a building in his unconscious state. Black Canary came shortly after, apparently informed of the Superman situation and carrying kryptonite.

She didn’t last for long either. Almost immediately after helping Ladybug and Ryuko bind Superman in such a way that he couldn’t escape,

Pegasus got hit by Black Canary’s sound waves and Chat Noir’s residual injuries from his fight with Superman forced him into a state of unconsciousness. Queen Bee and Carapace were able to pull off a win against Black Canary, but not without serious injuries. Ryuko faced off against Red Tornado alone, which normally would have been a thing of awe, but in the grander scheme of things, was a huge issue, as without her, the Miraculous Team functionally lost all of their heavy hitters. Rena Rouge and several Miraculous users that clearly had never been in battle before were the ones left to hold their own against the scores of akumatized Parisians.

The only ones left to hunt down Hawkmoth and Pavona were Ladybug and Viperion, and the former was already on her third use of Lucky Charm.

Ladybug pulls out her communicator, dodging an attack.

“Can we get sound on this?” Jason grips the closest table.

Dick shakes his head. “Zatara says there’s already enough interference just trying to get these images. And for some reason, Dr. Fate refuses to get involved with any of this.”

Bruce’s phone rings. He doesn’t pick it up on the first ring, too focused on the ongoing battles. He does take his phone out of his pocket to silence it the next time, but when he presses the sound off, an image comes through.

“Bruce.” Ladybug’s image comes through crystal clear, and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ladybug, blood dripping from her mouth, costume torn open, hair burnt, wild eyed.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the image goes blurry as she moves to avoid several attacks pointed towards her.

“Before I go, I--”

“Watch out, LB!” Bruce lifts his eyes to the screen that displays Ladybug and Viperion in battle. The spotted heroine gets pushed out of the way of a laser, but the snake themed hero takes the hit.

The ambient noise coming from his phone is strong; he can hear blades clashing in the background as Chat Noir, already on his last legs attempts to hold off Darkblade. Screaming from civilians, a strangled sob from Ladybug. “Viperion.”

Ladybug comes back into view. Blue eyes filled with rage.

“If this doesn’t end in our favor, you need to make sure that Hawkmoth and Pavona do not acquire both the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous. Do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.” She blinks, retreats into herself, and Bruce wonders if he’s seeing the girl behind the mask.

“And If I don’t get to see you again--” If I’m dead, the words go unspoken, “I really did want the chance -- I-- you’re a good man. A good father. Your daughter-- she loves you. She really, really does. Stay safe.”

The transmission cuts off. On the screen in front of him, Ladybug closes her communicator, closes Viperion’s open eyes, and strides to the epicenter of the akumas. Blue fire flashes in her irises, and for a moment, she’s staring directly at the screen. And Bruce knows those eyes. He knows them.

The next second, all of the computers simultaneously die.

Bruce is numb. No-- no.

He is nothing.

All his children-- no, not all his children, Marinette is missing, Marinette is Ladybug, and she’s out on a field that he can’t see grappling with magic forces strong enough to incapacitate Justice League members like their powers and abilities are inconsequential-- stare at him.

“That was… Ladybug?” Tim’s brow furrows. It’s clear that he’s thinking up a hundred different reasons why Ladybug and Batman are connected, why he’s the last person she calls before going into a battle that could very well cost her her life.

“My daughter.” The words are ash on his lips. An existence he’s never acknowledged. Not out loud. Saying it brings a sense of finality to the room. An impending death. “My daughter.”

Nobody asks how long he’s known or when he met her or why he’s never brought it up before. Everything is fuzzy. Floating.

For a while, there’s silence.

“Zatara says there’s too much interference to get the picture back up,” Dick opens his messages, frowning.

Damian still stares at the screen Ladybug looked at directly, frozen.

Bruce picks himself up and moves. He may not be able to use the zeta tubes, but he has a private jet and a license, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something.

It takes two hours too long to get to Paris. He shaved five hours off the flight length due to superior technology, and another hour and a half off due to sheer force of will.

The landing is not a pretty thing, but Paris is already in shambles, and there’s no way that the ATC will approve his landing, so Bruce picks out the flattest looking spot of rubble before his jet meets the ground.

According to Tim and Duke, who stayed behind in case this turned out to be an attack spanning multiple cities, the battle ended mere minutes before they landed. Dick manages to get Zatara to broadcast the image in the cockpit of the jet, and on the screen lay three prone bodies. Gabriel Agreste, whose body type fits that of Hawkmoth, Lila, and a third that Bruce does not recognize.

A bone sticks out of Marinette’s arm, the connected hand crushed and hanging limp. The opposing ankle is twisted almost fully backwards. She is covered in blood and ash and filth. There is no victory in her eyes. Only weariness.

In her good hand, she holds her yoyo.

She raises her eyes skywards-- the roof of the Agreste mansion is blown clean off-- blinks slowly, and throws the yoyo into the air.

“Miraculous Cure,” her lips read.

The corpses in Paris rise from the dead. Rubble reforms into buildings. The ashy haze that covered the city disappears.

Ladybug looks like she wants to disappear, too.

She collapses, instead.

Nobody is there to catch her when she drops to the floor.

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness

mb for not doing tag list right away i forgot i had these cued up already

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #maribat #what are dates #what's going in order #time? i don't know her #i'm always late #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #bio!dad bruce #angst

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ratedbangtann · 4 years

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“Hey, you.” ~ JJK [18+]

↳ summary - Your friends made fun of you constantly for your crush on Jungkook. Except, you didn't have a crush on Jungkook - did you?

↳ rating - explicit/18+

↳ word count - 8.6k

↳ pairing - Jungkook x reader

↳ genre - college!au, friends to lovers

↳ warnings - TW// F2L, a little humour, passionate and rushed sex, fingering, unprotected sex (pls assume birth control! But wrap it up, guys), romantic sex, steamy and heated and generally just everything you want from college boy JK, right?

↳ a.n - what’s up, beauties! I was commissioned again! I hope you love this, I thought it was cute lmao. If you would like your own commision, or would like to leave a tip, please head to: https://ko-fi.com/ratedbangtann (I just lost my job thanks to corona so it's my only income right now lol)

**************************************************

Winter Break was supposed to be a chance to relax, to kick your feet up and enjoy the holidays; Christmas, new year… But you spent the whole three weeks studying, as always.

“You need to learn how to have some fun,” Tae had remarked more times that you were willing to count as he walked past you sat at the kitchen island of your tiny shared apartment off campus. Easy for him to say; acting majors hadn’t been given much to focus on over the break, but you? Broadcast production was a tough major, filled with coursework and studying alongside practical work.

The only days off you gave yourself had been Christmas day and New Year’s Day, and then it was back to your old routine. You and Taehyung had made Christmas cute for the two of you, whilst all your other friends had gone home for the holidays. But you were paying rent on this place, and a Christmas away from home didn’t seem like a bad idea.

But the break was over, and lectures and seminars were starting up yet again.

“______, you gave yourself absolutely no break. How are you so eager to get back to class?” Taehyung groaned as you walked onto campus together.

“Just happy to have some company that isn’t you for a change,” you teased, earning a shoulder shove from him.

“Tae! _______! Wait up!” you heard a familiar voice calling from behind you, and soon after an arm was around your shoulder and another best friend at your side.

“Hey Jimin, how was your break?” you smiled up at him, seeing that gorgeous smile beam back down at you.

“Good, but I missed my girls…” Jimin pouted at you, then reached around to ruffle Taehyung’s curls. Tae just rolled his eyes and smirked. “You see Jungkook yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet. He’ll probably roll into class at the last second, as per usual. I haven’t heard from him over the break,” Tae rambled, missing Jimin’s tone entirely.

“No, I meant… he looks different… You’ll see,” Jimin smirked. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, but he just winked and returned his focus onto getting to class.

In the halls of your college campus, you split from the boys and waved them off at the performing arts department – Jimin was a dance major, specifically contemporary, and often had classes adjacent to Taehyung in the studios.

Your class however was held in one of the lecture theatres right at the other side of the block, so you walked through the corridors of chattering students, waving hellos to those that you knew from class or working on projects with other majors. Jin – Jimin’s frat leader – waved sweetly to you as he stood at the water fountain surrounded by girls wanting to hear everything about his ski vacation to Italy. Quite comical, really – like the alpha of a pack at the watering hole.

He may have been a ladies’ man at first glance, but he was a real sweetheart when you got him away from the herd. All those girls, and yet he was always very respectable, never hitting on them, simply enjoying the attention and remaining chivalrous. You smiled at him and waved back, a silent promise to check in with him when lunch kicked in.

Walking into your classroom, you weren’t expecting to see Jungkook ready and waiting for you in your usual spot in the fifth row – and you had been right. As if the boy could be on time, ever. All part of his charm, you suppose. So you slipped into your seat and waited for him, no doubt the last one in as the final bell rang out. You focussed on pulling out your laptop, logging into it and opening up a document to start your note taking.

Being a little early, you had time to scroll through your college emails like you obsessively did every day. You were so engrossed in your task, you hadn’t even noticed Jungkook walking into the room until he sat beside you.

“Hey, you,” he spoke softly as he sat down, pulling his headphones out of his ears. He always greeted you that way – a running joke from the start of college. He’d taken far too long to remember your name, and so when paired up with you on the first assignment, he fell short, simply addressing you as “you” whenever you would meet in the library to work. Now, it was almost a term of affection.

“Hey Kook-“ you started as you looked up, but your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped.

It had only been three weeks…where did all that hair come from? How was he now able to tie it back into an adorable little ponytail? And why did it bloody suit him so well? And… Oh my god, were those tattoos on his fingers?

This couldn’t be the same Jungkook, surely not? Last time you had seen him, his hair was getting longer sure, but not at all able to tie up. And he most certainly didn’t have hand tattoos, or any other tattoos that you were aware of. Jimin was the only person you knew with a tattoo…

And yet, as you studied the boy beside you setting up for the lesson, it was most definitely him. The same bunny-toothed smile and innocent wide eyes; the same all-black cargo pants with a chain and oversized sweater; the same dangly chain and hoops earring along his lobe and helix. Except with his hair like this and little tattoos to match, he looked – dare you say it – sexy…

“You know, with a little bit of eyeliner and a motorcycle, you may well be on your way to joining the cast of ‘Sons of Anarchy’,” you laughed. He grinned at that.

“Are you referring to the tattoos, or the epic man-bun?” He slunk back into his seat and smirked. “It’s not just my hand, you know…” He pushed his sleeve up to proudly show the multiple tattoos on his forearm; a skull hand, a floral design with lettering, some writing that your eyes followed to read ‘rather be dead than cool’. “More up here too but I’ll show you another time.”

“Where’s my sweet innocent little Kookie gone? I’m gonna have to think of a new nickname now…” you huffed, still admiring the black ink over his skin.

“You know I always wanted tattoos, well I got a bunch of money from family this Christmas, so I thought, screw it. If not now, then when?” he shrugged. Seemed like pretty sound logic to you, and you had to admit they were pretty awesome.

“Why this one?” you pointed at the flowers.

“Ah, my birth flower, tiger lilies. Korean meaning for them is ‘please love me’, so that’s-“

“Alright class, welcome back to the second semester. Hope you all enjoyed your break, but it’s back to work!” your professor started the class with a loud announcement, silencing Kook in the process. You’d have to get him to tell you about then more later.

*****

“Oh this one is just a Nirvana quote, I liked it. Song is called Stay Away. And the Ox is my birth year, the lilies my birth flower…” Jungkook was explaining his new ink to the group in the refectory hall, perched up on the table next to where you sat, where Jimin sat marvelling at the ink with his dance major best friend, Hoseok. On your table, Jin and Taehyung were catching up on the events of their winter breaks. Well… Jin was telling Taehyung all about his ski trip, of course.

You were just absentmindedly staring at Jungkook, sat on top of the table chatting away with Jimin. His hair was half up in that cute little ponytail, with dark tendrils falling into his eyes and framing his face. It suited him well, looked so soft and silky too. He looked so different and yet exactly the same. His sweetness hadn’t changed, his sense of humour hadn’t changed. And yet something felt different, and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Next thing you knew, fingers were being snapped in front of your face and waking you from your little daydream.

“Earth to ______…” Jin called, still snapping. “Don’t you want to hear my epic tale of heroic skiing skills?” You pushed his hand out of your face and gave him your full attention.

“You know, fantasy’s not really my genre, Jin,” you remarked, earning an overly offended response.

“You should be kinder to your elders, young one. Especially when he’s the head of the best fraternity on campus and throwing the first back to school party of the semester this Friday that he can or cannot get you barred from, young lady!” he rattled off; of course he would never exclude you from a party, and he was only joking.

“Hey!” a voice boomed behind you, deep and fast approaching. And then said voice was sitting beside you and dumping his bag on the table, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in mock protection. “You could never exclude our fraternity sweetheart. She is the soul of every omega delta gamma event.”

“Precisely. Nice try, Jin,” you winked, turning to hug the new face at the table. “Hey Joon,” you greeted as he dropped his arm from your shoulders.

“Well then pay attention to me, _______! Instead of gawking at Jungkook’s new bad-boy get up. We get it, you want him. Now back to me please!” Oh god, this again.

“Will you shut up? I do not want Jungkook,” you scathed, lowering your voice to stop him from possibly overhearing from the next table. The others at the table giggled. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing, nothing…” Joon laughed. “So skiing, Jin?” You were grateful to Namjoon for taking the heat off you, now trying too hard to look like you were only paying attention to Jin.

“Yes, skiing…” Jin sat up straight and continued his story.

*****

“Pizza or fried chicken?” Taehyung asked as he scrolled through menus on his iPad, plopping down on the couch beside you in your apartment.

“Oooor, I could just cook?” you laughed.

“No, Miss Kill-joy… It’s been a long day of falling asleep in class and listening to Jin’s skiing trip stories over and over again. We’re ordering in.”

“Fine. Pizza,” you surrendered, flipping through show after show on Netflix. “We still haven’t finished season 3 of Stranger Things yet, feeling brave enough today?” you teased. Taehyung had always been a little too easy to frighten, and it was honestly a wonder he’d made it through the first two seasons without scaring himself silly.

“Oh god.. Uh, maybe? I’m getting pretty desperate to figure out what’s happening to Billy but like, do I really wanna know?” he didn’t even look up from his phone as he spoke, focussing on adding the toppings to his make-your-own pizza.

“If you get too scared, you can spend the night in my room with me, okay? Won’t let anything happen to my Tae-Tae,” you pouted dramatically, babying him with a pinch to his cheek that had him shrinking away from you and giggling like a child. “Oh, can I get a-“

“BBQ base, and a side of chicken wings. I got you,” he smirked. Damn, he knew you too well. “Put the damn show on, I’m a grown up now. Can handle it.”

“Tough words…” you laughed, flicking through the shows to land on Stranger Things, and hitting play.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to be shrinking into a ball against the couch and hiding half his face behind a pillow. Poor thing, he was just too sensitive. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying it. It just meant he’d be curled up against you snoring and clutching your arm all night.

An episode in, and food had arrived. You grabbed some plates and empty glasses and created yourself a little feast on the coffee table in front of you. You figured the next episode could wait until you’d had something to eat.

“So tell me,” Taehyung started, cheeks full of pizza like a hamster hoarding nuts, “how’s the insane crush on our own adorable little bunny holding up now that he sports a man-bun and an arm of ink?”

“You’re really still on this, aren’t you?” you avoided the question and all eye contact with Taehyung, dipping your pizza crust into some ranch dressing and quickly shovelling it in so you wouldn’t have to do much more talking. But still, he pressed on.

“Oh my god, stop trying to cover it up. We all see it. Only person who doesn’t is Jungkook, which is insane, considering…” he raised his eyebrows and picked up a chicken wing, leaning back into the couch. Despite his already full hamster cheeks, he took a bite of the spicy wing.

“Considering what?” you asked curiously through chewing. He took a moment to answer, raising his finger to keep you silent and waiting impatiently while he swallowed.

“Considering how obvious you are, always staring at him when he’s not looking, always looking around to find him, asking after him. You practically swoon when he walks in a room, you laugh at all of his terrible jokes, and don’t think we didn’t all see you drooling at lunch. It’s just ironic, that neither of you realise…” he chuckled to himself, taking another large bite of a pizza slice he picked up in his free hand, practically shovelling the food in.

“Neither of us? What do you mean?” you asked, confused. Tae froze on the spot, a string of cheese latched between his teeth and stuck to the end of the pizza he’d just bitten into. It stretched and broke off from the slice, dangling comically from his lips. But neither of you laughed.

He took his time reeling in the string of cheese, proceeding to take forever to chew his mouthful, clearly stalling for time before swallowing overdramatically.

“Just meant like… neither of you notice that you’re drooling over him, y’know? Yeah, that’s it.” He wouldn’t look you in the eye, quickly shovelling another mouthful of pizza in his mouth to avoid having to speak further on the matter.

“You know for an acting major, you’re a terrible liar…” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest as you turned your whole body to face him on the couch. “What did you really mean?”

Tae sighed. He could never lie to you, not really. You knew him too well for that, spent too much time with him to know his tells. And truly, he was a really terrible liar when it came to his friends. He dropped the pizza back into the box and turned to you, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and swallowing the latest mouthful.

“I’m just saying, we all see the way you drool over Jungkook, but like… it’s more, isn’t it? You don’t just wanna screw his brains out, you’ve been falling for him since day one when he wondered into your lecture hall like a lost puppy. We all know It, ______… We talk about it all the time. And it’s just… it’s ironic ‘cause… well….” His eyes darted up to look at you, finding your expression to be a mix of both realisation and confusion in one.

And he’d be right. How on earth had it taken someone literally telling you that you liked Jungkook, to realise that, well… you bloody liked Jungkook! How far did this thing go? How deep did these feelings sit? Have they always been there? Did they grow over time? Is it just a crush or is it more than that?

But it made sense. You had always found him cute, sometimes attractive – hell, even sexy sometimes… But most girls did, he was Jeon Jungkook. Except that didn’t explain why you always wanted him around, why you always thought of him first when someone asked about your friends, why you were often caught out staring at him by the others. There was something more… Oh god, there were feelings involved.

You snapped back to reality, reminding yourself that somehow Taehyung wasn’t finished speaking…

“Wh-why is it ironic?” you stuttered, not even bothering to deny his claims any longer.

“Because to all of us it’s also painfully obvious how much he likes you too…” he said sheepishly, slowly so as not to shock you too much.

“N-no he doesn’t,” you protested weakly. He couldn’t, he’d never shown any signs.“Oh _______… yes, he does. I can’t understand how you both haven’t realised, it’s painfully obvious to all of us. Jimin said he’d asked about you the second he got back to the frat after vacation. He always talks about you. They ask him how his class went, and he’ll reply like ‘oh yeah it was good, _____ did this, _____ did that, _____ made me laugh so hard today’. It’s adorable but Jimin said he barely talks about anything else.

“Funny thing is, you stare at him when he’s not looking, and he stares at you when you’re not looking. We laugh about it all the time, it’s kinda funny to watch. I honestly don’t know how you can function alone together in class,” he laughs, shaking his head at the image of you both automatically turning your heads periodically.

“But... He…” you shook your head trying to think of excuses for him, but you were drawing a blank.

“I mean he actually told Hobi he liked you about a month ago when he was drunk. Hobi said he was crying into a bucket and whining about how he’d never have you and he just likes you soooo much between hurling,” Tae laughed at his own impression of Jungkook weeping. You couldn’t help yourself then.

You leaned forward and slapped his shoulder, followed by another slap and another, all cushioned by his hoodie and barely enough to hurt anyway, just to annoy.

“Ow, hey! HEY! What- What’s that for? Ow!” he cried dramatically as you knelt over him, slapping his arm out of pure frustration.

“YOU,” slap, “NEVER,” slap, “TOLD ME?!” you yelled. “You knew all this time I liked him, and you said NOTHING?!” you sat back on your heels running your hands through your hair totally exasperated.

“Well I assumed you knew that at least you had feelings for him, Jesus! It’s so obvious!”

“And when he said he liked me you didn’t think to bloody tell me?!” you scoffed, indignant.

“Well he was drunk, and he didn’t remember in the morning so…” Tae rubbed his arm dramatically.

You rested your elbows on your knees and buried your head in your hands. You had to figure out what to do with this information, if you should do anything at all. God, you’d been fawning over him since Freshman year. No wonder they’d teased you about it constantly in the last few months… You felt like a fool. You hadn’t even realised you were crying until the first silent tear rolled down your cheek.

Taehyung said nothing then, pulling you to lean on him with an arm around your shoulder. He rubbed your back and kissed your forehead like a good friend should, comforting without having to say a word.

“I feel stupid, Tae…” you whined into his shoulder.

“No, sweetie, I’m the stupid one. Should have said something sooner. I’m sorry…” he held you with both arms then, feeling a surge of guilt for keeping such information from his best friend.

In your head, you tried to think of any signs you might have missed, anything at all that proved what Tae was saying. And although they’d made fun of you for liking him all this time, you knew he would never, ever lie to you about something like this. Especially not with your tears soaking into his hoodie.

You needed to do something about this. You needed to say something to Jungkook, maybe to be a little (a lot) more obvious. Either way, now that you knew he liked you, you couldn’t simply sit on this information. Time had been wasted already…

*****

You were gonna do it. You were gonna tell him, that very morning, just after class let out for lunch. You’d pull him to the side, explain you wanted to talk to him. Go somewhere quiet. Tell him the truth.

At least, that had been your plan. But the second he walked in as the final bell rang that morning and sat beside you, you lost your nerve. Now suddenly, you had to deal with butterflies attacking your insides, and an inability to act natural around him. Awesome.

“Hey, you,” he smiled as he sat down beside you, as always. Only today you couldn’t muster a genuine smile back, just a nervous half smile. And he noticed. “Whoa, what’s up?” He put his hand on yours that rested in your lap and you flinched a little from him, like his had was made of hot coals. He held his hands up, staring at you with wide bunny eyes like you’d trodden on his tail.

“S-sorry, bit jumpy today I guess…” Smooth, _______. Real smooth. “Nightmare last night,” you lied.

“Oh, I’m sorry… need a hug?” he opened his arms to you and of course, you couldn’t say no to that. So you shuffled along the bench of the amphitheatre and slotted into his arms, curled up in a little ball and tensing up as soon as his arms wrapped around you and hugged you to his chest. You weren’t sure if he could tell you were tensed up or not, but to you it was painfully obvious.

“Alright class, we have assignment marks to discuss!” your professor started his talk, and Jungkook reluctantly let go of you, letting you straighten up and open your laptop to take down your notes. But he kept his eye on you the whole time, watching with concern at your sudden stiff manor around him. Had he done something wrong?

*****

“Taehyung it’s been three days and I don’t know how to act around him anymore! Help me. You did this. You fix this,” you paced in front of his little desk in the student union, where he spent Thursday afternoons working.

“Uh, this isn’t my fault. You could ha-“ You lost your cool, dramatically slamming your hands down on his desk and leaning down to be eye level with him. He shut up immediately.

“Fix. It,” you demanded.

“Okay, okay… Uh, there’s a party tomorrow right? Jin’s party? At the fraternity?” he scrambled for ideas.

“Oh no, tell me you’re not serious. No, this is like some cheesy Netflix teen movie or something,” you groaned, pushing off his desk and pacing yet again.

“Yeah well it’s the best I’ve got, okay? So just… I don’t know, ask him to dance, get him a drink, take him to one side, talk to him. If it goes wrong, blame it on the alcohol. Yes, it’s a cliché. But clichés are clichés for a reason,” he tried to convince you, and unfortunately, it was starting to work…

“If this backfires, I’m holding you solely responsible,” you warned, pointing your finger accusingly.

“Okay, yes, fine, whatever,” he shook you off, turning his attention back to the calendar of student activities that he’d been working on for this semester. “You should wear that black dress, the one with the mesh layer. He likes that one.” Just how much info did Taehyung have on Jungkook’s little crush on you?

“Oh for god’s sake,” you rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag, stomping back to the cafeteria to find Namjoon or Jimin; anyone but your infuriating best friend.

*****

“I’m telling you, the dress was the right choice,” Tae tried to convince you as he escorted you the few blocks to the campus where the frat house was. Your arm was linked with his as if you were a couple from the 50’s on a stroll along the beach; very typical Tae.

“And how is it you know so much about which of my dresses Jungkook likes the most?” you asked suspiciously.

“Well last time you wore this was when we all met up in summer right? And we went to that club? He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He turned to me and said, ‘she looks good tonight, right?’ I just agreed and let him carry on staring while you danced with Hobi and Yoongi.”

“Oh, is Yoongi coming tonight? I miss him!” your attention was diverted to the friend who had decided college wasn’t for him, and he was going to pursue a career in DJing instead.

“Yeah he’s bringing his decks, you know how he is.” Indeed you did; always had a decent mix for any kind of party.

Turning the corner to head down the street of sororities and fraternities, you could already hear the bass from Yoongi’s speakers blaring and lights flashing in the large bay window at the front of the house. Already in full swing, then.

Inside, the whole ground floor was littered with bodies all drinking and dancing already. Looking around, you could see a few people you knew, but none of your closer friends just yet. Only Yoongi, set up with his decks in the corner of the large living room. You dragged Tae over to him first.

“Hey _____! How’s life?” he yelled over the music, putting an arm around you for a side hug and lightly bumping fists with Tae, beer in hand.

“Good, good. Seen any of the others yet?”

“Uh, Jin was setting up a keg in the other room, with the pool table in? Namjoon was with him. No idea about the others.” He took a gulp of beer, fiddling with some buttons in front of him. “Here,” he yelled, hitting the top of a bottle of beer on the edge of his mixing desk to get the cap off, handing it to you.

“Thanks! I’m gonna go find the others, say hi.”

“Alright doll, come dance later okay? I’ll play that mix I made for your birthday,” he smiled his adorable gummy smile, patting your elbow lightly and turning back to his decks, holding his headphones to his ear as he bobbed his head to the heavy bass.

Tae stuck by Yoongi’s side, catching up on lost time with him. Tae was fond of Yoongi, looked up to him like a big brother he rarely got to see. You made your way through the hordes of students into the room you expected to find Jin, and low and behold there he was feeding Namjoon from the keg. Whilst you were glad to see them, that wasn’t who you wanted to find… You wanted to find Jungkook.

“Save some for the rest, Joon!” you laughed as he held the end of the pipe.

“_____! You made it!” he cheered, hugging you with his free arm.

“Have I ever missed one of these?” you laughed, comfortably tucked under his arm and playfully hitting his chest.

“Touché,” he grinned.

“You guys seen Kookie?” you asked, trying to seem casual. The pair just smiled to each other, thinking you weren’t in on the joke still.

“Kitchen, I think. But have a drink with us first, he’s gonna be around somewhere. Pay attention to us,” Jin whined, clearly making fun of you again. You didn’t even argue, taking a few gulps of the beer Yoongi had handed to you. You chatted to them for a while, joining in with the chants and cheers of people brave enough to do keg stands with Jin, at least until your drink was empty, and you had an excuse to leave and find Jungkook.

The kitchen had people in too, same as every other room and the room was only lit by the flashing lights of the living room. You spotted Jungkook on the other side of the room, leaning against the worktop with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. He was alone, a perfect opportunity to get him out into the yard, or somewhere quieter at least.

He looked so good tonight… Wet look black jeans clinging to his muscular thighs, a black shirt with red dots all over tucked into them, a few buttons undone. Necklaces dangling against the exposed skin at the top of his chest, hair down and flowing freely, showing off just how long it really had become. And his sleeves were short, showing off his new ink properly for the first time… There was no denying the attraction you felt to him anymore, that was for sure.

The same butterflies you’d been feeling around him all week were rising, frantically fluttering against your stomach as heat rose to your cheeks. You hadn’t even noticed you yet, but you could feel your hands getting sweatier.

But you could do this. It was Jungkook. Even if he really didn’t feel the same way, he would never be cruel about it, never laugh at you or yell at you. You had nothing to be afraid of. It would hurt if he didn’t want you, but your friendship would survive; you knew it.

He briefly looked up from his phone, eyes finding you. Immediately, his body stood upright, sending you an awkward smile; that was your fault. You’d been acting weird all week, ever since your epiphany with Taehyung. But you smiled back, trying to look as natural as possible.

You lifted your empty beer bottle and mouthed ‘want one?’ at him, to which he nodded. You smiled and headed to the large fridge freezer, picking out two bottles for the both of you, but when you turned back, you almost dropped them both to the ground…

A girl had wondered up to Jungkook, a prettier, popular girl from one of the sororities. She’d snatched his attention away, playfully touching his hair and tracing his tattoos with her delicate fingers. She leaned into him, her lips devilishly close to his ear. She was clearly whispering something flirty to him, his eyes widening a little and his cheeks turning pink. And then she started to nibble at his earlobe…

You caught his gaze again for a second, and his eyes widened even more. Could he see the shock on your face? The tears brimming in your eyes and blurring your vision? Could he see your knuckles turning white against the necks of the bottles in your hands?

You couldn’t watch any more, putting the bottles down on the kitchen island in front of you and hastily exiting the kitchen with hot tears starting to spill. You were gonna do it, you really were. But who were you kidding? The sight of another pretty girl, a prettier girl, was all it took to divert his attention. Tae had been wrong; he must have been.

You didn’t feel much like partying anymore…

Without stopping, you walked straight to the front door and out onto the street, disappearing from the party without so much as a wave to any of the others. You hadn’t even seen Jimin or Hoseok yet, but you didn’t care. You needed to get out, to go home. To be alone and sob to your heart’s content.

The air outside was cold, biting at your skin as you stumbled the few blocks home, wiping your cheeks and trying to hold it together until you were safely in the confides of your own home. It didn’t take long, and before you knew it you were stumbling up the stairs in your ankle boots and struggling to fit the key in the door.

You shut it behind you and leaned against it, hitting your head on the wood and freely letting the tears and the sobs rattle through you. How stupid you felt, how naïve… You just got used to the idea you had feelings for him, how dare the universe now give you heartbreak just a few days later. What kind of bullshit karma crap was that?!

You let yourself sob against the door for a moment as you found some composure, enough to realise you just wanted to get into some comfy sweats and a hoodie and eat whatever crap you could find in your refrigerator. You didn’t stop the tears but took a few steps further into your apartment, when some loud knocks rang out on the door behind you.

You jumped a little, startled by the noise and furiously started wiping the tears away. Taehyung must have seen you leave, must have followed you home to comfort you knowing that it hadn’t gone well with Jungkook. He’d feel so awful, probably blame himself for getting your hopes up or something. But he’d have the warm hugs you needed right now.

But then, Taehyung lived here. Why would he be knocking?

You stepped towards the door and opened it slightly, peaking through the crack so see who had been rasping on the wood moments before.

As if the world was playing some sick joke on you, Jungkook was stood there, his face looking sad and his fingers fiddling with each other.

What you hadn’t seen, was the way he stopped that girl at the party as soon as he saw the look on your face, as soon as he saw you dump the beers and turn. He saw the look on your face, and suddenly it had all clicked into place for him. You liked him too. And his heart had dropped into his stomach. He tried to follow you, getting stuck behind a couple of the jocks from the neighbouring frat house, and tailing behind you trying to shout your name over the heavy bass of Yoongi’s mix.

The second he saw your reddened eyes he stepped forward, pushing his way into the apartment, giving the door a kick shut behind him and cupping your jaw in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears away. He smiled weakly at you, already aware that it was his fault you were crying, his fault you had left.

“Hey, you,” he said softly, his tone so affectionate, so worried and full of care as he looked into your eyes. They brimmed again at his words; they just sounded so sweet coming from him, like you were the only person in the whole world he’d want to say hello to at all.

But you stood frozen, biting down on your lip to stop a sob from erupting from your throat. All you could do was look up at him, his hands holding your face up towards him as his thumbs stroked over your cheeks. His eyes were searching yours in the silence, like he was trying to find confirmation or a sign or something, but you just weren’t sure.

But before you could even try to compose yourself enough to speak, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours so softly, so cautiously, lingering for a second and waiting for you to push him away, to slap him or scream at him for getting the wrong idea – but he hadn’t and you both knew that.

So when he parted from your lips and looked back down at you, he saw your small smile, the tears spilling yet again, the deep breaths you were taking. In such close proximity, he could practically hear your heart threatening to beat out of your chest and feel the way your cheeks had heated up under his hands.

And he couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He leaned in again, this time with more purpose, more aggression, his lips crashing with yours only this time you were ready for him, matching his desperation, his urgency. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. You couldn’t seem to get close enough, not even when your chest pressed against his.

Finally, after months of unrecognised feelings towards him, Jungkook was here and he wanted you. You didn’t care about anything else, couldn’t focus on anything else but the way his lips felt against yours, the way his hair felt silky soft brushing up against your forehead.

His hands slid into your hair, fingertips grazing over your scalp and adding a layer of bliss to the way he kissed you. One of your hands slip up his chest and wrapped around his neck to draw him in even more. He groaned against your lips, and if the stirring in your chest was anything to go by, you knew where you wanted this to go.

You just wanted him.

Without disconnecting your kiss, you stumbled backwards, dragging him with you through the hall of your small apartment. You stumbled together, your back hitting your bedroom door as his hand flew out to turn the doorknob for you. The pair of you shuffled into your room, Jungkook kicking the door shut once again.

His hands dropped from your hair and flew to his shirt buttons, hastily undoing them one by one as you took the opportunity to separate from your kiss to undo the zip at the side of your dress and shuffle out of the mesh over-layer and the straps of the black dress underneath. You pushed it down around your waist, breasts still hidden from view by the black bra you’d worn that evening.

Jungkook flung the shirt from his body, immediately stepping towards you again to grip your bare waist in his hands and reconnect your lips fiercely. Both your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him towards you as you stepped further and further back, until the backs of your knees hit your bed and you tumbled backwards with him still locked on your kiss.

Everything was happening fast, everything was heated and desperate but after so long denying your feelings for him – and unbeknownst to you, him denying his feelings for you too – you felt like there was just no time to waste.

His lips found their way to your jawline, kissing and nipping at the skin from under your ear down to your chin, and continuing down your throat. He took his time, his hands working through your hair again as you moaned under his assault on your neck. It felt so good – he felt so good. You couldn’t help your hands reaching between you both to unbuckle the belt holding his jeans up, making light work of the button and zipper soon after. You could already feel the large bulge formed in the now open crotch of his jeans, and it stirred a heat between your legs that had already been steadily building.

Jungkook’s lips travelled further down, between the valley of your breasts to mouth and bite and suckle at the fullness on display above the cup of your bra. He reached underneath you to unclasp it, while you worked the straps down and threw it to one side. His mouth immediately latched onto your nipple, his hand massaging the other as he tweaked and flicked the nub over and over again.

Your moans sounded obscene, breathy and whiny under the pleasure he was giving you. You couldn’t help the way your hips rolled up to grind against the prominent bulge you’d uncovered earlier; you needed some kind of friction now that the uncomfortable sticky feeling in your panties was only worsening.

No words were exchanged at all – and certainly no time wasted on teasing you – as the hand on your breast slid between you both and pulled the remnants of the mesh dress and the tight underdress down, both of you kicking it off to let it land in a pile at the bottom of the bed. His waist slotted neatly between your thighs and his hand cupped your sex, middle finger toying with the wet lace of the underwear you had on.

“Oh, Jungkook…” you whined, breathless and lost in the bliss of both his mouth working your breasts and his hand dipping past the lace to swirl around your throbbing clit. Hearing you whine his name was something he’d admit to only dreaming about in the past, his brain daring him to think of all the things he wanted to do with you, all the ways he could make you create that exact sound for him over and over again. It was music to his ears.

It only seemed to rile him up further, fingers moving faster and expertly toying with your clit just a little more, until he slid them down to circle your entrance and slowly push two inside you. The stretch felt magnificent, and by this stage you were already turned on enough to be able to take both with no issues.

Jungkook groaned against your breast, a wave of arousal pulsing through his veins at the way you felt on his fingers, imagining with absolute clarity just how you’d feel on his cock too. He curled his fingers and hit your g-spot with each downward stroke of his hand, having you thread your hands in his hair in desperation to grip onto something, anything.

“P-please, Kookie… Need you,” you panted, begging to feel him completely, to be totally immersed in the pleasure of him and him alone. How could he deny you of that?

He sat up on his knees immediately, pushing his jeans and boxers down to his knees and swivelling his hips to sit enough to push them off along with his black Chelsea boots. You kicked your shoes off as he did, shuffling yourself out of your panties and leaving you both totally exposed to each other.

He took a moment to turn his head back to you, to look into your eyes properly and just admire how you looked right now. Your hair was messed up, matted to your forehead with sweat much like his was. You had dark rims under your eyes where your make up had pooled from your tears and streaks in your foundation to match. Your neck was red and in places, a little bruised from his own handiwork. And he had never, ever thought you looked so beautiful.

His expression twisted into a smile, his eyes squinting and his bunny teeth gleaming in the low light of the street coming in through the window. It was all you could do to smile back, resting on your hands as he slowly crept up the bed towards you, the happiness exuding from both of you, the knowing relief you shared with each other. You parted your legs for him to slot between, letting him hover over you and slowly lean in for another deep kiss.

You lay back down, Jungkook following to never once break your connection. His hands roamed from your thighs up to your waist, holding onto you as your lips moving in perfect unison, slower than before but still incredibly heated. You’d never been kissed like this, never been held like this or touched like this. He was making every single touch count.

You rolled your hips up against him again – a sure signal that you were ready, you wanted him – and felt his rigid length brush against your folds. Reaching between you both, Jungkook gripped himself at the base and slowly, began to push inside you. Your kiss separated just barely for him to groan in absolute gratification, lips just barely grazing yours. He pressed his forehead with yours and shut his eyes, revelling in the way you felt.

There was no denying his girth, and yet still there was no pain or discomfort to be felt. He eased himself in slowly, gave you a chance to adjust, and as soon as you started to kiss him once again his hips began to rock.

His hair fell into his eyes, descending past his ears and doused in a light layer of sweat from the heat inside your small bedroom. The pendants and necklaces he had worn that night dangled above you, swaying backwards and forward with each thrust he made. His freshly healed tattoos were now on full display to you, and you could help but to reach out and touch them.

Each thrust just felt like it was meant to be, like he was supposed to fill you this way, you were supposed to fit together like pieces of a jigsaw. You reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear, showing more of his face to you. In the dim streetlight, he looked so perfect, so absolutely stunning as he clearly became consumed by nothing other than you. You placed a hand flat against his chest, wrapping the other around his neck and bringing his lips closer to you so you could reach up for them again.

As your bodies writhed against each other, moan after moan escaping you both and being muffled by intermittent kisses, you knew right then that this was exactly how it should be. You loved him. And he loved you.

“K-Kookie?” you stuttered your voice a higher pitch than usual. His thrusts were become more dynamic with every passing second, and yet never speeding past a pleasurable roll of his hips. He struggled to open his eyes and tear himself about from his paradise, but he did so, looking down into your eyes.

“Y-yeah, baby?” he huffed, his breath laboured and voice stifling another groan. He pressed his forehead to yours for stability, keeping his hazy eyes on yours.

“I… I love you, Kookie…” you cried against his lips, another tear escaping down the side of you face. He smiled then; an out of breath, exhausted and relieved kind of smile as he continued to roll his hips into you, having you whimpering as your bit down on your lip.

“I love you too, ____…” he grinned, his eyes fluttering closed, “Oh, fuck, I love you so much.”

You threaded your hands in his hair again, bringing his lips up to yours and colliding them in potentially the most passionate kiss of your damn life, moans and whimpers included. His hand slid between you, fingertips concentrating on coaxing a delightful and euphoric orgasm out of you with targeted strokes to your clit.

With a new level of ungodly satisfaction, you couldn’t control your lips anymore and broke the kiss, just holding him close to you with parted lips and moaning wantonly as your eyes rolled back. You’d never felt an orgasm approach so fast in all your life, never felt it hit you the way this did.

Your legs spasmed and shook in his grasp, hands tightening in his hair. Your moans caught in your throat, unable to move while every muscle contracted. You couldn’t be sure of it in the moment, but Jungkook sure noticed the way you clenched and gushed around him as you came. And with each contraction dragging against his length inside you and you finally delivering a loud and high pitched moan, you brought him to his edge too.

His hips slowed and stuttered as hot spurts of cum painted your walls, more than he ever had before. He tried to keep rolling his hips, to get every last bit of pleasure he could before exhaustion took over and he collapsed next to you, head buried in the crook of your neck and chest half laying on you.

Both of you were utterly drained of energy, breaths heavy and hot against the other’s bare skin. It felt incredible. It felt perfect. It felt just as it should.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours that passed by, both of you simply becoming comfortable laying in a heap of sweaty nudity – you simply didn’t care. You had Jungkook now, right here with you. And he loved you.

You weren’t sure of the time, nor did you mind, but the two of you fell asleep laid together that night. Jungkook had rolled onto his back, dragging you onto his chest and pulling the messy sheet up to cover you both. With one final drawn out kiss, the pair of you lay in peaceful contentment and drifted off.

*****

Next morning, you awoke to the sun streaming directly into your eyes; you hadn’t closed the drapes last night. Your groaned and turned away from it, stretching your limbs out onto the rest of the empty bed, and- wait, empty? No, no… Had you… had you dreamt your night with Jungkook? Had he left without a word? Did he regret what had happened?

You sat upright, clutching the sheets to your chest. You were still nude, your clothes still strewn about the place; but Jungkook’s were gone.

He must have just decided to leave.

A knock on your bedroom door drew your attention away from your sadness, and a rather smug looking Taehyung wondered in before you had the chance to turn him away. He sat at the end of your bed with his arms folded and a smile you grimaced at in disgust.

“Mooooooornin’,” he teased. You wanted to kick him off the bed.

“Shut up,” you groaned.

“See? Told you he liked you! Can’t tell me that that wasn’t Jungkook I saw you naked-cuddling with when I got in last night,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah, well I hope he had fun. He’s done a runner this morning,” you accused. Taehyung was about to object, when a key jingling by your front door sounded, the door opened and closed, and footsteps drew closer down the hallway. And then who should come into view, but none other than Jeon Jungkook sporting the outfit he had on last night and brandishing a brown paper bag with some rather ominous grease stains on, and two hot coffees in a holder. He must have stolen one of your hair ties, because most of his locks were back in a bun again save for the front pieces parted in the middle.

His face looked a picture; the deer in headlights cliché. His wide eyes darted between you and Tae, and all Tae did was smirk at you.

“Go away, Taehyung,” you flatlined, shooing him with a foot to his leg. He held his hands up in defeat and stood, walking past Jungkook and out into the hall.

Jungkook snapped out of his shock and confusion to put the coffees on your nightstand and the bag next to it. He sat down on the edge, turning slightly to face you.

“Hey, you,” he smiled, his eyes soft and adoring. He tucked a strand of your bed hair behind your ear, leaning forward to place a kiss to your forehead. You tucked your knees to your chest and smiled shyly.

“Thought you’d done a runner,” you joked.

“Could never do that to you. Just wanted to get you breakfast in bed; least I can do for making you think I was flirting with one of the sorority girls.”

“Oh, no it’s okay… I just…. Yeah, I don’t know,” you laughed at yourself, feeling pretty stupid for not even giving him a chance to push her away before you jumped to conclusions.

“Hey,” he said softly, shuffling closer to you. “I, uh… I haven’t even looked at another girl since I met you, _____. Never wanted to, I never noticed anyone but you…” he confessed, shyly looking down at a spec of fluff on your sheets.

“I can’t believe I had no idea… I didn’t even realise I liked you like that until Taehyung kinda let it slip…” you chuckled, fiddling with the ends of his hair dangling in his eyes.

“You’re welcome!” you heard Tae shout from the kitchen, clearly eavesdropping with your door still wide open. Jungkook stood up to shut it, just a little harder than average in response to Tae’s mischievous meddling and then came and sat back down beside you.

“Well, we have some lost time to make up for, then,” he smiled, leaning in for a gentle and purely loving kiss, lingering a few moments, just enjoying finally having each other. You pulled apart with a shy giggle. “But first, breakfast!” He leaned over to pick up the bag, unpacking the bagels and hash browns he’d picked up from the diner around the corner.

You watched him, just how cute and attentive he was being with you. He was the same Jungkook, always had been this way with you. But now, you knew why, and it all made sense. It all fit together.

“Yes, breakfast.”

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 3 years

Text

Adrien’s Room and Memorabilia: A Sequel Post

Well, I hinted at a similar arc for Adrien in this post, so let’s brainstorm.

CW: mentions of harassment

The major difference between Adrien and Marinette in this instance is that Mari’s room is about her working through her social anxieties and developing meaningful relationships. Adrien’s focus is on his lonely nature, as well as discovering and cultivating hobbies that he really enjoys, and aren’t just forced upon him by his father.

His room starts off with very few photos of his loved ones, namely his parents, Chloe and Felix. These photos are professional in nature, clean, crisp and very much lacking in color. Even Chloe and Felix are behaving for the sake of the photos. Notably, their photos show them when they are much younger, to indicate that Adrien hasn’t spent time with them lately.

There’s a large emphasis placed on the amount of stuff that Adrien has in his room. The video games, the TV, the climbing wall, etc. Everything is completely clean and dust free, because he spends a lot of time in his room, but he doesn’t have anything he’s particularly drawn toward, so whenever he’s done with something, he puts it away and grabs something else. His room is also likely clean due to his strict father demanding he keep up appearances.

The only exception to this are video games, but they are very specific ones: simulators. Particularly, ones that focus on dating and romance. Life simulators, farming simulators, RPGs that offer a romance subplot, etc. Even if the sim only offers the option to make friends, Adrien is fine with that. Stuff like Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons (the ones made by Marvelous), The Sims, Undertale and so forth are right up his valley. And again, lots of dating sims.

Following his mother’s “passing,” and at the start of the show, Adrien keeps a corner of his room dedicated to her. As more time goes by and Adrien gets closer to his new friends, this will shrink down to a photo of the two of them, and most of her memorabilia will be stored away. This will show that he’s open to the possibility of his father dating someone else, as was shown in “Felix”.

He will often turn to photos of his mother when he wants deeper, more worrying thoughts that he wants to voice and get off his chest, or if he needs advice about something and he doesn’t know who to turn to. S1 would focus more on friendship advice, because in this version, he would need to put in more time and care to make friends (Nino and him would still stay buds, Mari is still crushing on him but is hesitant to approach, and Alya is kind but cautious, with the rest of the class being wary because of his friendship with Chloe). Later on, he’s more likely to ask about plot-relevant stuff, his feelings for Ladybug and Kagami (and romance in general), his growing resentment towards his father, his meet-ups with his friends, and his discomfort with Chloe and Lila’s touchiness. Coupled with Felix’s harassment in “Felix,” this causes Adrien to realize his boundaries are being violated, and to also wonder if he has adopted similar behaviors. He goes to speak with either Sabine, Tomoe or Nino’s mom about the matter (maybe all three to get a variety of perspectives), and then with Ladybug. I would set this conversation sometime after “Frozer,” with him mentioning how he acted there, and apologizing for leaving her in the middle of battle (if the episode isn’t rewritten to include that there).

Overtime, he would start to depend less on talking to Emilie’s photo, and instead talk to whoever he asked for advice. Instead, he would talk to her prior to a larger battle or facing a bigger threat and had something he wanted to get off his chest.

At the beginning of their superhero career, Adrien is into collecting Ladybug merch - he’s likely to even have one of those “Do it for her” boards set up. He has some Chat Noir stuff as well, but it’s not as prominent. When other heroes arrive on the scene, he’ll have stuff of them too. He would even go so far as to recreate the heroes in his games (mostly in what Sims knock-off this universe would have), and roleplay scenarios with Ladybug. He doesn’t fully get rid of his merch over time, but he does likely downsize as he spends more time getting to know Ladybug and the team.

There’s also the obligatory Ladrien scene that I hinted at in Marinette’s post. To recap, Chat Noir, during an emotional moment with Marinette, mentions that he has Ladybug memorabilia in his room, and that he ought to downsize. Sometime later, Ladybug comes to check up on Adrien for plot-related reasons, and discovers that he “too” collects Ladybug merch. Adrien is notably embarrassed by this, but Ladybug replies by saying that she’s a fan of his as well. This will allow two sides of the ship to feel closer to each other and open up about certain things.

Similar to Marinette, Adrien will start picking up little things as mementos from previous episodes to decorate his room with (a class photo from “Reflekta,” a copy of the movie from “Horrificator,” his autographed Jagged Stone CD from “Guitar Villain,” etc). I also imagine him holding onto clothing items such as Nino’s hat or Kagami’s jacket, that get left behind after hanging out. Over time, he is eventually gifted a mannequin to display these items.

I remember seeing a post that called into question whether Adrien’s activities were something he genuinely enjoyed or if they were just foisted upon him by his father. I like the idea of a laid out arc that explores what Adrien might like to do in the future, by having him go through various hobbies (sort of like Daphne in “Be Cool, Scooby Doo”).

One hobby I’d give him from the start is tricking. (For those not familiar, tricking combines moves from martial arts and gymnastics, usually flips and kicks, and can be used to create super cool combos, yes I am biased about this). We often see him showing off stunts in battle and would fit Chat’s tendencies to be flashy. I could also see this becoming a hobby he shares with Nino and Kagami later on, maybe with the three of them sneaking out to meet other trickers at gatherings.

(For those who need visual reference.)

However, I also want to give Adrien a more traditionally feminine hobby. There’s a couple of ideas I had for this, including, again ones that he cycles through as he explores himself a bit more. After meeting Luka and noticing that he paints his nails, Adrien might tiptoe in nail art. I could also see Adrien getting really into writing romance, starting off as a fanfic writer and eventually writing his own novel or comic. Alternatively, he becomes a poet. Maybe he spends an episode learning to sew with Marinette so he can make his own cosplays. Or he starts a cottagecore aesthetic blog, and additionally starts taking care of some plants to give his room some needed greenery.

I think for the sake of irony, it would be interesting to see Adrien eventually take up baking as a hobby. I know there’s a couple of AUs involving this concept already (I forget who it was, though I’m tempted to say @lenoreofraven but correct me if I’m wrong), but I like this idea because it would give him something extra he and Marinette could bond over in the future, especially since he doesn’t want to do modelling long-term. It would also give him a good excuse to visit the Dupain-Cheng bakery, and grow closer to Sabine and Tom. Perhaps they take him up as an apprentice, or give him a delivery boy job alongside Luka (giving that relationship a chance to grow as well, as well as a Delivery Boy shenanigans episode).

When he’s either in between hobbies, in a tumultuous state, or growing distant from his father, his room will appear far messier. In the latter case, it may be an attempt to rebel against Gabriel, saying “it’s my room, I can do what I want!” If he’s not comfortable immediately speaking out against his father, he may rebel in more passive aggressive ways. I could also see him roleplaying scenarios in which he tells his father off or planning escape routes for hero patrol or tricking gatherings. I think he would also have padded mats stored somewhere in he case he can’t leave, and wants to practice, or have his own tricking gathering in the house.

As he collects more mementos, they start filling up the empty spaces in his room, so when his father prevents him from leaving the house, he doesn’t feel as lonely. He starts finding ways where, from the comfort of his room, he can hang out with friends (like in “Anansi” where he uses the facecam to see what everyone is up to). More friendly, casual photos give the room some life. These mementos may also cause him to start downsizing on the Ladybug and Friends merch.

He will only attempt to remove them altogether if his identity is revealed to Marinette, and she doesn’t seem to process it well (at least at first). Anything pertaining to her, as Ladybug or Marinette, he may attempt to remove, until he realizes just how present she is in his life. He would then consult his mother’s photo about what to do.

And similarly to Marinette at the end, when they start dating, he would start to incorporate couple’s photos. I think both of them would have those photo booth strips, but I could also see Adrien commissioning posters of his OTP, LadyNoir, and bringing back some of his merch (in a teasing, well-meaning way).

#ml salt #ml rewrite #ml plot bunny #i'm going to tentatively tag this as #adrien salt #bc i bring up an issue with adrien's character that i have #that i know as of late many people are debating over #however i also attempted to address this issue within this post #so i will also tentatively tag this as #adrien sugar

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demonwifey · 4 years

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Ok, so we know that beej is a limby boi (with the invisible reprise scene) so maybe a headcanon about just cuddling/spooning and the multiple legs and arms come to play? I thought that since a lot of us are quarantined we’re pretty touch starved (take whatever route you want with it 😊)

Hey guys! I had a lot of fun writing these headcanons. I also got inspired even more by this commission @beetlebitties did for me a while back (check out her Beetlejuice art, it’s amazing btw). Hope you guys enjoy!💜🖤💚

Beetlejuice x fem!reader + a small AMAB reader part as well

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW (18+) later on, mentions of heavy bruising

Word count: 2,129

SFW

Beetlejuice never hid the fact that he could sprout extra limbs from his body, and in different places as well. Whenever he was around, he would always use them to try and freak you out.

The first time was when you were cooking dinner. You went to open one of the cabinet doors in the kitchen when a black and white sleeved arm popped out and waved at you. You jump and yelp before hearing Beetlejuice laugh in the distance behind you. What a jerk, you thought.

But when Beej started to hang around on the regular, you got used to them. Even started using them for your own gain.

How many times had you asked Beej to use one of his extra arms to grab the remote after it slid too far to reach under the couch? A lot. There were even times when he’d watch you struggle to reach under the couch before offering to help.

He liked staring at your ass and listening to you curse while trying to reach the remote. Yes, he tried to deny it when you caught him staring.

“I was trying to get a far sighted view...for the remote.”

“Just shut up and help, Beetlejuice.”

He was always using his extra limbs to make you laugh too. Balancing different items on each hand, while simultaneously trying to walk around with 8 different legs. Even if he made a mess on your living room floor, you were still hunched over laughing. Didn’t matter if you had a bad day or not, he just wanted to be the one to make you smile.

Beetlejuice was a jokester but it became even more evident when you were playing video games or watching a movie together.

Video games: Beej would presumably have both hands on his own controller. But not even 10 minutes later you would feel a random hand messing with yours while you tried to play. Immediately looking down you saw the extra arm coming from his side. Just before you could yell at him to stop, the extra hand would start tickling your side. Unable to concentrate and play correctly, you immediately lost the round.

“Beej, you fucking cheater!” You tried to play angry but couldn’t as another arm grew on the cushion next to you and tickled your other side.

“What’s that, babes? I can’t hear you! You’re laughing too hard!” He mocks while laughing along with you.

Watching a movie: Obviously you’re an adult. You’ve watched plenty of movies with nudity and sex scenes in them. So now you’re watching a movie with Beej laying his head on your lap. All of a sudden two of the characters started to roughly yank each other’s clothes off. Just before the woman could unclasp her bra, you felt two hands suddenly cover your eyes. If they weren’t covered, you probably would’ve rolled them.

“Really, Beej?” You asked while throwing your hands up.

“Sorry, doll. Gotta protect your innocence.” You heard him snicker.

“Innocence? B, this is my fourth time watching this.” That’s when the hands quickly zipped away. Replacing them was Beetlejuice’s face only inches away from your own. His smirk was way too suggestive for your liking.

“Well, If you’ve seen it 4 times, maybe you could show me how this scene ends. Whaddya say, dollface?” You felt one of his regular hands gently rub your thigh. You gave him your own cheeky smile.

“Hmm, or maybe you can be a good boy and watch for yourself.” You got closer, making your noses practically touch before using a free hand to push his face away from yours. This caused the green haired demon to fall backwards onto the floor. A loud thud echoed through the house while he looked back up at you with a hint of annoyance on his face.

Cuddling was always a staple in your relationship with Beetlejuice, before and after you two made it official.

Although he would never admit it, Beetlejuice loves being the little spoon. You found this out after one night when he was practically buzzing in your arms while you held him from behind, rubbing his stomach in gentle circles.

“Hey, Beej...are you alright?”

“Y-yeah. Why do y-ou ask, babes?”

“Well, for one your whole body is, quite literally, steaming and it feels like you’re vibrating a little bit.”

He was trying to babble out an answer but once you actually noticed his hair was beaming hot pink, you caught on. You silenced him by giving him gentle kisses on his back while continuing the circles on his stomach.

It didn’t really matter to you. You loved holding Beej all the time. But Beetlejuice was always the one to return the favor.

Whenever you were holding him, you’d feel two extra arms wrap around you from behind. You only giggled, knowing Beetlejuice was just trying to be fair, even though he didn’t need to be. It soon became normal when you guys were cuddling for him to use his extra limbs on you. Almost like he was doing it out of habit.

You felt extra arms wrap around you. An extra leg sitting between yours so you could have something to wrap them around. Your favorite was when he’d have extra hands playing in your hair or fingers tracing circles on your body.

His favorite was when you held one of his extra hands. He’d be laying on top of you with his head resting on your chest. Both of his arms would be wrapped around you but his extra limbs would still appear out of his back. Without even needing to be told, you would reach up to grab one of the hands and use your thumb to rub it gently.

The moan he let out when you did this didn’t go unnoticed.

Getting out of bed was never easy with his extra arms. You would be laying on top of him and as soon as you tried to get up, an extra arm would snake around your back and hold you down. Even if you laughed and tried to wiggle out of it, two more would come to hold you down again.

“B, come on. I gotta pee.” You’d plead. You only feel two more arms grip your thighs. “Ugh, Beeeeeej.”

Being the little shit he is, he only chuckled and gave your ass a light tap before cozying up back into your chest.

NSFW

There were days when cuddling with Beej was innocent, and then there were days when it wasn’t.

One time you both were laid out on the couch. You sat up slightly with your back on the arm rest. Beetlejuice was laying with his back on the couch and his head on your stomach. Your legs were wrapped a little around his sides. You were gently combing your fingers through his hair while his hands were rubbing up and down your thighs.

It was pretty peaceful to the point when you were almost dozing off. That’s when you saw an extra arm come out at the side of you. Finally it reached the hem of your shirt slyly making its way under. You didn’t get a chance to register the cold temperature of his palm before his fingers started squeezing your nipple.

You can’t help the soft moan that comes out. The little shit then moves his head back to look up at you, a flirty smile taking over his face.

“You starting something, Beej?” You asked while letting one of your hands run down to undo the first button of this shirt.

“Only if you promise to finish it, doll.” You felt the extra hand under your shirt pull a little harder. Stopped and actually thought for a second, before leaning your head against the side of the couch.

“Well, I would but I’m kinda tired. You might have to do all the work.” Not even a second later was he sitting up in front of you. His hair practically lit up the room as it started flashing and fading into different shades of pink. The look of arousal on his face was both turning you on and scaring you.

“Oh, babycakes. You know how much I love it when you let me take control.” He said, practically growling from his own arousal. He quickly scooped you up bridal style and rushed to your bedroom. And he said take control, he really meant it.

You were used to Beej using his extra limbs during sex but this time he went all out. You didn’t even have to lift a finger. When he took off your clothes, two hands lifted your shirt up and two more pulled your shorts down. He leans down to give you a deep kiss when you feel two hands holding your cheeks and running through your hair. Then a different pair of hands started feeling and squeezing your breasts gently. You couldn’t help but let out a moan at the contact mixed with the feel of his tongue making its way in your mouth.

You started losing count of how many hands and arms were wrapped around you as he finally pounding into you. The most noticeable hand was slowly rubbing up and down on your clit.

That combined with his hands everywhere else? Were you on the peak of over stimulation? Practically.

“Beej~ Oh~ Slow down or I’m gonna be cumming, ah~, in no time.” Trying to find any one of his arms to grip on. Without warning, you felt two of his hands reach down to grip your thighs and push them up. Basically having you on full display.

Was he drooling? Yes. The beautiful sight of his favorite breather being wrapped in his, never ending, arms and on the edge of cumming around his dick. How could he not drool?

“Babes, no need to worry. This is far from over.” He chuckled. You only moaned louder as some of his drool fell on top of your clit and he pushed in deeper.

So now you couldn’t help it. Beetlejuice got you hooked on his extra limbs during sex. It wasn’t your fault. He was just too good at using them. And when he caught on to how much you liked them, he never gave you a break. Ever.

You’d be in the shower and suddenly there was a random arm coming out of the wall in front of you. You didn’t have a chance to get scared as reached down to start fingering you.

(for my AMAB readers) Imagine you're on the couch, minding your business. When suddenly you feel a hand palming at the crotch of your pants. You didn’t argue as you felt it slip its way under your pants and underwear to pull your dick out. You’re squirming and moaning as the hand pumps you slowly.

“How’s that feel, babes?” You almost jump as Beej’s voice creeps from behind you, but are quickly distracted as his thumb runs over your tip. You can’t even answer as he’s got you too caught up in your own pleasure.

“Fuck~ Beej. Yeah~, just like that.” You moan out.

Everything involving Beej’s extra limbs makes him 100 times more excited. He’d never got to use his supernatural powers on a breather if he wasn’t scaring them. And here you were almost loving it more than him. Almost.

His favorite time to use them is when you were riding him.

You’re on top and he’s got arms around your back holding you firmly while he bounds into you. Two hands are on your chest and more gripping your thighs and ass.

So bruises and marks were already bad with Beej. But now with quadruple hands gripping you all over, it looked like your body had been run over by a truck. Not that you minded.

Half the time you would catch Beej starting while you changed clothes. He had a habit of doing so anyway, but now he was eager to see the marks he left all over you. All you hear is a long whistle coming from your bed.

“Have I told you how breathtakingly sexy you look, doll?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes, only 100 times a day. Sheesh, I look like I’ve gone through 10 rounds in a boxing ring.” You said while looking at the red marks around your hips and thighs. Beetlejuice quickly stood up and wrapped him around you. The smirk on his face was nothing but mischievous.

“Well, if you want. We can go 10 more rounds right now.” He whispered while planting kisses on your shoulder. You didn’t even get to answer before he started nibbling on one of the bruises causing you to let out a slight gasp.

Thanks so much for reading!💜🖤💚

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice headcanons #beetlejuice fanfiction #Beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice muscial

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just-a-creep-babe · 3 years

Text

Matchup!

Commissioned by @1that-one-person1 Thank you so much bby 😘❣️

Requests are closed

Masterlist: x

I match you with: Stephanie

SFW

Steph has been through a lot

Her world has been shrouded by fear, paranoia, hatred and misery for as long as she can remember

Which is why she’s almost immediately attracted to your calm & quiet demeanor

You seem like such a soft & welcoming safe-haven from the stress that she usually has to deal with

It makes her wanna stick around your side from day one—even if part of her is afraid of dragging you into the mess that is her life

She just can’t resist wanting to be around you tbh

And the more time she spends with you, the more she notices the little things—like how you tend to keep to yourself & you seem a bit shy

But she also notices the way your eyes light up when someone mentions a thing you like

And it’s just so dang endearing; it makes her wanna get to know you a lot better :>

She isn’t exactly super extroverted herself, but she tries her best to chat you up whenever she gets the chance

She specifically tries learning about the nerdy stuff you’re into so that she has something to talk to you with

And she‘s sort of a huge nerd herself, so her interest is pretty genuine ^^

Once she starts getting to know you better, she absolutely adores how kind & funny you are

You go from being this cute ray of sunshine to her best friend that never fails to make her laugh

Her day always seems to get better when you’re around <3

And the little crush she has soon turns into a full-blown I-think-I’m-in-love-with-you-but-I-don’t-want-to-ruin-our-friendship-or-make-you-uncomfortable situation

She becomes terrified that you find out she’s in love with you because she doesn’t wanna lose what y’all have

And the fact that you tend to be naïve sometimes only makes things so much worse because she’s scared of deceiving you

It’s only when one of the guys prolly Jeff talks to her that she finally manages to build up the courage to confess

And she’s so relieved when you reciprocate her affection ^^

She’s also hella nervous too because now she‘s gotta open up & be vulnerable with you

She’s not completely jaded to the world, but like I said, she’s pretty traumatized, so normal things like intimacy up can be a bit difficult sometimes

It helps that you’re so kind & caring though uwu

Homegirl really, really likes you, and she wants to make your first date special, but she isn’t exactly good at that sort of thing

It kinda freaks her out a bit ngl

So Jeff helps her out again

He’s honestly a great wingman lmao

With his support, she sets up plans for a cute movie night with some good food, fairy lights, scented candles & lots of blankets & snacks

By the end of the date, y’all end up stuffed with junk food, listening to music together with your pinkies linked 😚😚

Speaking of, she fucking LOVES music, and because she’s a bit shy at first, she’ll express how she feels through the different songs she shows you

It becomes the way you communicate deeper feelings sometimes, and it’s honestly so cute 🥺🥰

While she is terrified of intimacy at first, she’s also a hopeless romantic

So she gradually becomes more comfortable with the whole dating thing over time

She sets up the cutest activities for you to do together

Including, but not limited to; stargazing, going to planetariums, petting zoos, aquariums, museums, art galleries & a BUNCH of other places

She likes art as well, so whenever you get the urge to doodle, she’s right there with ya ;)

You end up working together on bigger pieces and they look ✨bomb af✨

She can’t animate, but watching you work your magic makes her wanna try it out

She’ll be eternally grateful if you teach her, and she’s a great student, too—she’s a super fast learner :D

She’s also dabbled a bit in cosplay, but she’s a bit shy about it

So seeing you so open & enthusiastic about it is sUch a confidence boost :>

She’ll shyly try it out with you again—and she gets all cute & flustered when you compliment her outfit, it’s super adorable 💞💕

Still, she tends to prefer sticking to the sidelines & helping you out with your costume though

And she’s a relatively good seamstress, too, so she can take care of any outfit modifications needed uwu

Because she’s sort of a dork, she’ll go with you to conventions too—no doubt about it ;)

~Loves~ buying art & cute trinkets as souvenirs, so expect to come back w lots of merch lmao

And she almost always ends up buying you some kind of cute plushie, just cause she can 😌💖

She thinks you’re an amazing person with a heart of gold—which is why she hates it when anyone makes fun of you or tries to roast you

She’s not super confrontational, so she won’t jump in & snap at them, but she’ll definitely give em “a look” & be super passive-aggressive with them

She’ll get you out of any uncomfortable situations as fast as she can, and then she’ll do anything to reassure you and/or distract you

Because of everything that’s happened in her life, she hates hospitals, but she’ll still go with you to appointments/check-ups because she wants to give you her full support

And she also does her best to keep up with any medical info she might need—so if some kind of emergency happens, she’ll know what to do

She’s on & off medication, so if you have to take some as well, you’ll always end up reminding one another to take 👏them 👏meds👏

Honestly, while she does still have her bad days, having you by her side makes everything so much better

She’s eternally grateful to have met you <3

NSFW

Homegirl isn’t the most dominant person in bed tbh

She’s sort of a switch, leaning towards bottoming or being a power bottom

So the first few times you’re together, it ends up being that meme

You know the one… yeah, that one

But just like how she learns to be more vulnerable over time, she also learns to enjoy topping a lot more~

You just look so cute & endearing beneath her, how could she not want to take control & make you feel good, y’know?

She’s relatively vanilla, but also down to try some BDSM stuff

Wouldn’t mind tying you up & teasing you until you just can’t take any more~

Like, despite being vanilla, if there’s one thing this girl loves, it’s being a tease

She adores how desperate you grow under her touch while beg because you’re just so needy

She’s a bit iffy when it comes to degrading you, but she’ll definitely praise you a whole lot

Loves worshipping your curves with her hands & mouth while murmuring how soft & sweet & perfect you are

Overall, she really just wants to make ya feel good

Sex is how she enjoys showing her love & dedication to you, so she always tries to make it as enjoyable as she can

Things always end up super steamy & sensual

But she also likes being goofy sometimes, so there‘s never too much pressure or anything ^^

On special occasions (or just when she’s feeling a lil frisky ;)) she’ll dress up in cute lingerie

And she’ll absolutely love it if you do too~

Definitely be ready for a bunch of compliments—especially if you get flustered easily ;3

She enjoys being a bit risqué when it comes to teasing you in public 👀

And if she’s not there to do it in person, she’ll send nudes instead ;)

She sends some lewd ass pics when she knows you’re in the middle of something or surrounded by other people, just to get you all riled up :p

It’s not fair—and she knows & loves it~ >:)

She always wants you to be happy & comfortable though, so she won’t do it if you tell her not to

Your comfort has ultimate priority over anything else

Which also means y’all have a bunch of established safewords—just in case

Overall?

Loving & caring gf

You’re at the center of her attention during sex; she does whatever it takes for you to have an enjoyable experiences

Please cherish her & return her affection cause she’s been through a lot & deserves it too :”)

#everymanhybrid #emh #everymanhybrid matchup #everymanhybrid x reader #matchup #slenderverse

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astraeal · 3 years

Text

Commission for @aciddial! I had a lot of fun writing this; hope you enjoy! Read on AO3 here.

Stardew Valley, and all characters therein, belongs to concernedape.

Leah’s washing her freshly picked blackberries when the birdsong falls silent. Her days are measured by the ebbing and flowing of flora, fauna, and the babbles of the river, and though it’s growing darker, the birds should still be singing. She flicks the water off her hands, drying them against her shirt as she goes to the window.

The sky is darker than it should be for an autumn evening, but rain is common as the seasons begin to change in the valley; less than the thunderstorms of summer, but still something worth celebrating. Perhaps the rain will push out a couple more mushrooms and berries before winter’s chill sets in; that, Leah can get behind.

Rough sketches, surplus canvases and paints, inventory sheets of supplies, and scattered, dulled tools, resting between miniature scale replicas of future projects cover her only table. She’d rather sit and eat than have to wade back into her workspace. Then again, her cabin is so small, the whole structure could be considered her workspace. She likes to think that she keeps her bed free from her work, but even then she makes exceptions to sketch her dreams from time to time, so.

Perhaps not.

She finishes cleaning the berries, setting some aside in the jars the Farmer had kindly given to her, the rest sprinkling on her evening salad. She perches on her stool, the plate held aloft in her hand as she begins her dinner. As she chews over the fall fresh berries, her mind wanders through the pathway of small cabins and creatives who live inside them, and naturally, she begins to think about Elliott.

He insists that he’s fine down in his little beachside shack, but that doesn’t stop her from offering for him to stay with her every autumn and winter. There are some comforts the forest offers that the beach does not, just as there are comforts her cabin offers that Elliott does not. He treats his piano with better care than he treats himself, despite Leah’s best efforts to improve her friend’s state of living.

Sure, Willy doesn’t mind allowing Elliott’s use the bait & tackle shop’s outhouse, and his electricity bill is nonexistent because there’s simply no lights in the shack. But when Leah points out that maybe those things aren’t exactly good, Elliott refuses to see reason. It’s a point of independence and pride, she knows; they both were running away from naysayers when they each came to Pelican Town.

She still feels that relief whenever she sees him walk into the saloon, that balm of finding another artistic spirit in a place of salt-of-the-earth folk. Of course, there are dreamers elsewhere, but aside from Sebastian and Abigail’s infrequent character art commissions, Elliott is the only person with whom she can talk about her craft.

And right now, she’s in her cozy woodland cabin, eating a foraged salad by the fire, and he’s probably freezing his ass off in his drafty shack. She’s talked with Harvey; she knows Elliott goes to the clinic more often than not in the colder months, and beer doesn’t keep a cold away like mead, according to Willy.

She presses a blackberry to the roof of her mouth with her tongue, feeling it slowly crack apart and turn to sweet, seedy mush. Tomorrow, she resolves; tomorrow she’ll talk to him and make him seriously consider moving in for this winter. Even the community center is well under way; perhaps he could temporarily move in there, and take advantage of a proper fireplace instead of a firepit.

Leah clears her plate to the sink, already planning where she could unroll her extra cot if need be. If she did the work ahead of time, maybe Elliott would take advantage of what she was offering. Maybe, just maybe, she could make him dinner, bring him up to the cottage and have him coincidentally stay while the storm rages on.

Yeah; that’ll be what she does.

♢♢♢

She wakes up to a loud cracking sound outside her cabin, and the sound of something large crashing to the ground. Then, the white noise rushing in her ears registers as rain, the ominous rumble of thunder coming from somewhere to the north. Her cabin is dark, save for the firelight, but even that has dwindled down.

Leah swings herself out of bed, first tending to the fire to coax it back up to full brightness, feeding more logs into the heat. As the cabin glows warmer and brighter, she turns to look around. Nothing seems out of place inside, so she goes to the window, pressing her nose to the glass and looking into the darkness.

Two pine trees closer to the river bank have been struck by lightning, split down the middle, still slightly steaming in the rain. She knows she’s lucky they hadn’t caught fire; the forest could have gone up in flames and she could have been stuck in her very flammable, very toxic-if-lit-ablaze cabin full of art supplies and paint. Still, those weren’t small trees, and while she mourns the loss of two of the older companions she’d had since moving to Pelican Town, she also recognizes the severity of the storm. To be able to strike down such trees, old and strong as they were, required no shortage of lightning and chance.

Again, her thoughts drift to Elliott, in his own drafty, cold cabin, surrounded by much flimsier palm trees. If one of them was struck, the tree could easily fall onto his cabin – or worse, fall onto Elliott himself.

She grabs her galoshes and stuffs her braid into a knit hat, dressing quickly. She doesn’t know what time it is, but if the storm woke her up, then it must’ve woken Elliott. He’s a light sleeper, always has been, and she mentally kicks herself for not heading to the Saloon the night prior, not being able to check in with him.

Before she leaves, she pulls out two thick knit sweaters and sweatpants, as warm and neutral as she can. Much of her and Elliott’s personal taste in fashion overlaps, a fact she’s grateful for, but he can be particular regarding loungewear. Better to be safe than sorry.

Armed with a flashlight and a long waterproof jacket, Leah heads out into the storm. Marnie’s cows are all boarded up in the barn, and the path to town is clear of any debris, though Leah’s footsteps squelch deep into the mud. She moves quickly, running parallel to Willow Lane, skirting between the fence line of the sewer entrance and the trees. The river swells with rain water, and she slips a couple times but never completely falls.

The street lamps at the entrance to the beach have halos around them, the light smeared across the buckets of rain pouring down. She jogs into the soaked sand, and from there on every step becomes twice as difficult. She’s has to be particular with how she moves, taking it one step at a time, fighting towards the door of Elliott’s cabin.

His windows are dark, and she feels horrible for letting him continually choose this version of his independence. The stone pathway does little to give her reprieve from the muddy sand, but it gives her just enough to get to the doorway and knock. A loud crack of thunder sounds from over the ocean, the sky briefly bathing her in white light.

She knocks loudly, even as she opens the door, announcing herself. “Elliott! It’s Leah!”

She shines the flashlight around the cabin. Her cubist artwork still hangs on the wall above the piano. But the table that usually resides in the corner has been pulled into the center of the cabin, with a bucket in the corner catching a rather impressive stream of water. The bed itself has been pulled away from the wall, towards the front of the cabin, and huddled in that bed is where Elliott sits, a book held to his chest.

“Leah darling! What are you doing here?”

Leah closes the door, leaning against it. The movement drags the spotlight of the flashlight across the floor, and it’s then that she sees water bubbling up between the panels. “Elliott, your house is filling with water.” Her voice is somehow calm, despite the freezing rain she had to run through to get here, and the predicament her friend keeps putting himself in. “Your house is filling with water and you’re not even at the Saloon?”

“It’s 2am, I left there hours ago.” He at least manages to look a little ashamed. “I didn’t think the storm was going to be as bad as it was.”

“The Farmer told us the weather was going to be getting worse.”

“The Farmer lives between the forest and the mountains, it’s a completely different biome than here on the coast.” Elliott presents his words with a flick of his hand, yet the ambivalence is undermined by the congestion in his nose and the slight tremble in his fingers.

“Oh, did Demetrius tell you that?” Leah rhetorically asks as she walks over, bringing Elliott’s boots from where they had been discarded by the front door. “Come on; you’re spending the night at my place.”

Elliott blinks in surprise. “Leah, that’s…you really don’t have to do that. I’m quite fine here on my own. And I can’t leave without my manuscript.”

“El,” Leah murmurs, holding the boots out to him. She aims the flashlight at the ceiling, the light cascading down around the both of them, giving them enough to see in the pale white light. “You have the story in your mind. You can bring it with you, if you really need to, but I’m not leaving you here, alone, with–”

Her words are covered by the loud crack of thunder. Pointedly, she gestures around the leaky cabin.

She sees a bit of that classic Elliott pride in his eyes, the squaring of his shoulders. He’s older than her, yet she consistently takes on the leading role, the more grounded approach, because she can’t fully lose herself in make believe worlds. Her work is in reality, and the reality of this situation is that she can’t walk away and leave him here alone.

But the next rumble of thunder in the distance lets them both know that this storm isn’t going to pass overnight; it will likely be here until tomorrow, leaving them in much the same predicament. Leah gives him another withering look, and two minutes later the duo make their way back to the forest.

As they pass over the bridge, Leah can hear the water sucking at the lower side of the stone structure. She watches as it spills over, and can hear the soft wheeze with each of Elliott’s breaths as they walk back to the forest. It’s slight for now, but she can only imagine it’ll get worse with time. Harvey will have something to say about it, that’s for sure.

Together, the two arrive, rain soaked and nearly blinded by the darkness, to Leah’s cabin. She pushes the door open, ushering Elliott inside first, then following herself. “Take whatever you want from the bed,” she says, tiredly gesturing to the bed, flinging some water off her hand in the process.

The two kick their boots off and lay their jackets on the coat rack. Leah watches as Elliott carefully spreads the manuscript pages – only slightly crumpled – onto the darkened WIP table. She peels off her wet jeans and socks, casting them in front of the fire to dry out little by little, picking her way to the bed. She takes her hair out of its soaked braid, her hat also needing to dry.

“If you’re hungry, I can whip us up some tea with elderberry syrup,” she offers, brushing her hair out.

Elliott comes over, clumsily putting his hair up into a bun and taking the softer, baggier pair of joggers from the bed. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice a little hoarse.

Leah politely looks away when Elliott takes his shirt off, but she is relieved to see a bare back, meaning his binder isn’t on. He tends to keep it on far past the guidelines for expected use, but that’s an argument she’s too tired to have right now. When they’re both dressed in warmer, dry clothes, she pulls back the sheets on her bed and gestures for Elliott to get in.

“What? I can’t possibly put you out of your own bed.”

She points more emphatically at the sheets. “I have a cot I can use, but you need a warm bed. In.”

He throws a pout at her, but which she returns by sticking her tongue out. She feels better – better that he’s good enough to be teasing her, and better that he’s getting in the bed and following her directions with minimal complaining. She goes to the small array of kitchen appliances she has tucked against the wall, and begins to prepare some elderberry syrup tea. Something to warm them both, and she notes the soft sniffles Elliott keeps giving off.

“Do you want something to eat?” she softly asks, the sound of the rain cocooning them in relative safety. Thunder booms every so often, but it’s not as close now, perhaps moving more towards the mountains, or simply a break in the storm.

There’s no response.

She turns to look, and sees him curled up on his side, the blankets pulled so only his eyes are visible, watching her. She furrows her brows a little, though she smiles in response, and softly prompts, “El?”

He hums a little, and she can tell he’s smiling from below the blankets. “Uh huh?”

“I asked if you wanted something to eat. I have some tom kha soup, if you want. With crab.” She watches as his brows furrow a little – now he’s confused.

“I thought you didn’t eat meat.” Leah’s vegetarian, but that doesn’t mean she can’t stock her friend’s favorites.

She simply shrugs. “Yeah, but you do.” At his resulting silence, she blushes a little more, turning back to stir the heating syrup. “What?”

Elliott remains silent, but she hears the soft rustle of sheets. “That’s really very kind of you, Leah. Thank you.”

She feels her cheeks flame a little, then reaches down into the basket of jars. She pulls out the jar of soup and a pot, clicking the flame on the stove and pouring the soup inside to heat up. “Y-yeah, anytime.”

It’s now that she remembers exactly why it would be so difficult for her to have Elliott permanently in her space. If not for their quite different versions of productivity and rhythms of living, there’s also the unmitigated crush that had blossomed over the course of their friendship. She knows he’s aware of her rocky foundations with romance, especially as it intersects with her art career – she’s told Elliott the story of Kel more than once, sometimes after one too many beers at the Saloon. But Elliott was never anything but supportive, and he always made sure to respect her boundaries when it came to romance.

She knows that he’s currently working on some romance novel, though, and that part of that had to do with the Farmer’s influence. Then again, she’s currently working on pieces for the town art show, also at the Farmer’s influence. Maybe they’re all a little starstruck with the newcomer, or maybe the Farmer just makes for good inspiration. Muses come in all shapes and sizes, and the Farmer’s never been anything but helpful.

They’re the reason Leah has leftover tom kha soup in the first place.

She has a spoon in each hand, stirring the pots in circles, before the syrup reveals itself as ready. Her electric kettle has the water primed and ready, and she drizzles the syrup at the bottom of the cups before tossing in some mint tea and pouring the water over it. The rest, she’ll cool to keep on hand as actual syrup, but the freshly made syrup – or sauce, as it really is in this form – is good to go now.

Taking the cups over to the bed, she hands one to the newly resurfaced Elliott. He looks much softer and safer here, tucked in her bed, the sweater a little tight on his arms but still comfortable nonetheless. He takes the cup with gentle, ink stained fingers, green eyes watching her with something she can’t quite name.

“Drink that and tell me how you feel in the morning,” she says, feeling her words slip quietly out of her mouth.

He nods, and she sees his soft freckles across the bridge of his nose, usually long dormant as the shorter days come about in the colder months of the year. “I have some inkling.” The words seem to puzzle him, and Leah tilts her head a little as he hurriedly takes a sip.

What could that mean?

“Let me get the soup. I’ll be the one eating it, it’s the least I can do.” There’s a darkened splotch on his upper lip, leftover from some elderberry syrup. She wants to reach up and wipe the syrup away, but she instead takes a sip of her own tea, nodding in gratefulness. Her legs ache from the struggle through mud and sand, and she hasn’t sat down since they arrived back home.

Isn’t that a thought? To call this a home in regards to them both.

She sits on the bed next to him, watching the fire dance in the brick enclosure. “You could move in here full time,” she offers, her mouth working without full permission from her brain. “Thoreau ran off to the woods for two years, two months, and two days. Think of the beach cabin as a summer home.”

“Thoreau wasn’t writing what I want to write. But I appreciate the comparison.” He laughs a little into his cup, fidgeting with his earring with one hand.

“Just, please think about it. I mean, what is the cabin going to look like when this storm ends? And winter’s coming, all of that’s going to freeze over, and you’re far enough from Harvey’s that going to an appointment is a whole ordeal, and…Look, Elliott, I just don’t feel comfortable letting you stay there.”

Elliott sighs. “…I’ll stay for the next couple days. At least until I can get the water out of my house.”

“And fix it so that the water stops coming into your house. I mean, do you know how unsafe that is?” Leah is aware that she’s perhaps ranting a little, but she feels it’s deserved.

“Yes, darling, I know. It’s all I can afford though, since no one in this town is moving out anytime soon.” He hops out of the bed, going over to address the soup. Wordlessly, she follows, handing him the only bowl she has in her possession. Enough living materials for one, not two, but she would be willing to make the choices to purchase more for him. She’d be willing to make that space in her life and fill it with Elliott, if only he would let her.

Once his soup is poured, she joins him back on the bed, sitting cross legged and clutching her tea. “You pay nothing to live there; I’m sure there’s gotta be room somewhere. Maybe there’s some apartments above Pierre’s? You know he’d love another way to make a quick buck.”

Elliott laughs, sipping the soup directly from the bowl. “Maybe, darling.” He sounds a little cleared up, and Leah hopes that trend continues. Nothing against Elliott, but she knows he can be a bit of a baby when he’s sick. Not that she finds it endearing or anything, or appointed herself Pelican Town’s resident Sick-Elliott-Caretaker despite knowing this. Nothing like that.

“I just, you know. If you don’t want to come here. I know that my sculpting can be kind of loud, and I know you need quiet to work, and there’s not a whole lot of places in town.” She tugs a little at the sweater by her wrist, suddenly shy.

“I…wouldn’t mind living with you, Leah. I’m sure we could come up with an arrangement to suit both of our styles of work.” He’s also blushing, but Leah attributes that to the heat in the cabin. Surely, that just means the warm soup is working its magic.

She nods, and the conversation quietly dies. Rain continues to pummel the roof and siding of the house, but thankfully no more trees fall. They finish their tea, and Elliott finishes his soup, and they’re faced with the exhausting prospect of pulling out a cot and making it with pillows.

“Or you could just sleep in here,” Elliott offers, patting the sheets next to him. “I would sleep better knowing I’ve not displaced you for longer than this storm required.”

Leah rubs her eye, looking at the warm inviting sheets – and man within them – and the empty space where she knows her cot could go. “Would…you be comfortable with that?”

Elliott nods. “I trust you.”

That alone makes Leah’s heart race a double time, and she heads over to the bed. She slips between the sheets, nose to nose with her closest friend, feeling safe in the rain. Just in case he catches anything, she knows she shouldn’t be so close to him. But it’s comfortable, and the moment he slings an arm over her waist she’s out like a light, exhaustion finally catching up with her.

♢♢♢

She wakes with Elliott’s arm still around her, her back pressed to his front, and the rain continuing down. It’s less now than it was in the middle of the night, and she hopes that means the damage to the town is going to be less than the forest. Still, she can hear the rushing of the river, still overly full of rain water, and she knows it’s going to be a while before she feels safe taking her sketching supplies to the pier to draw lake life.

Leah yawns, stretching out a little, feeling her muscles yelling at her for having the audacity to go for a midnight sprint through the rain. Elliott tugs her closer, and she remembers that he hasn’t actually left the bed, nor her house, nor her person. She freezes, eyes wide, staring across her cabin at the whorls in the wood.

Elliott is still asleep, breaths deep and even. She knows that there’s a possibility that he wakes up, shy and embarrassed, about them being so pressed together. Even still, there’s only one bed, and it’s a small bed at that, so maybe they can both be forgiven this moment of weakness. She closes her eyes, resting again in this warm embrace.

She’s unsure of how long passes before she wakes up again, this time because Elliott himself is waking up. He rolls away from her, his shoulder hitting the wall if the dull thud is anything to go by, resulting in a sleepy grumble.

Staying still, Leah waits to see how Elliott responds to their morning position. True to the romantic man he is, he reaches over and resumes holding her closer to him. She feels him sigh, his breath moving over her hair, followed by a soft, “Good morning, darling.”

“Good morning,” she replies, wondering how he knew she was awake. His resulting startle tells her that he did not, in fact, know she was awake. Which meant he wasn’t saying that for her benefit at all.

Interesting.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, still holding her close to him.

“Good; how about you?”

“Oh, wonderful, thanks. Haven’t been this warm since before the Moonlight Jellies arrived.” She can feel his smile through the words, and it makes her laugh a little bit to herself.

“Well, stick around here and you’ll be as toasty as you like.”

There’s a moment of quiet, and then a soft response. “I’d like that.”

Leah blushes, biting her lower lip. “I can get us some breakfast, if you’d like. It’s not too late, I don’t think.”

“That would be nice.” Elliott turns with a stretch, back cracking a little. “I suppose I should see what the damage is at home.”

The dip in his tone makes Leah feel guilty. Of course her first priority was to get Elliott to a safe place, but after that, what of what he had to leave behind? He claimed to do well in his self-imposed minimalist lifestyle, but to Leah, that meant what little he had was very important. It was something he couldn’t deal without, if he’s to be believed.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “Why don’t we –”

A sneeze interrupts her, and she starts, hopping out of bed. The movement makes her muscles protest, and she winces a little, rubbing a hand down her thighs. “We’ll go to Harvey’s first. Then breakfast, and then…the beach? It’s still raining, so it might not be…done.”

It referring to the slow damage done to the beachside shack. She doesn’t want to be impolite, but she doesn’t want to sugarcoat how bad it could be. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get the image of water bubbling up between the floorboards out of her head.

“Sure,” Elliott says, his breathing a little raspier than before. He clears his throat, brows furrowed, the magic of the morning seeming to fade away. “Yeah, let’s see what he has to say.”

Harvey, of course, was happy to see them both, then contrite at his happiness as if they’d accuse him of being pleased with their misfortune. Luckily, Elliott didn’t seem to have anything serious, besides a growing cold. He sent them home with some medicine, tucked away in a little waxy paper bag folded over, and prescription for rest and hydration. Nothing to do but wait it out, he’d said, and Leah had bitten the inside of her cheek.

Of course.

“Well that sucks,” Elliott mutters as they leave the clinic. The Saloon isn’t open yet, and Leah doesn’t feel great bringing Elliott to a bar first thing in the morning.

“Yeah. Sorry about the sickness, but it could have been worse if you’d stayed.”

Elliott shakes his head. “Not that, darling. That I could have gotten you sick is the real drawback here. I do my best work when left to my own devices, but I know how you like to travel around Pelican Town, gaining inspiration from whatever you can find. I’d hate to be in the way of that.”

Leah frowns a little, biting her lower lip. “Well…thank you.” It’s still strange to have someone care for her when she’s so used to doing the caring for others. It’s not that Elliott is immature, far from; it’s just that he has grand, romantic notions that often leave him far from reality, and that means he acts a little less like one would expect. Then again, only Harvey and Shane seem to be in Elliott’s same age bracket, and each of them is so different from the other, Leah doesn’t know how they begin to compare.

“Here, why don’t we do this? You head home, and I’ll restock on some groceries and healthy stuff. When you’re feeling better, we’ll handle the, uh, Beach Situation.” She gives him a warm, crooked smile, and she’s not imagining the way his face flushes a little, independent of the low grade fever he’s running.

“That could take days, though. Leah, I don’t want to –”

“Please.” She puts her hand on his forearm, ignoring the little look Jodi gives her as she and Sam walk towards Joja Mart. “For me? You’re not going anywhere else for the time being, I won’t let you.”

Elliott raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you won’t let me?”

“Yeah, I won’t let you.” The challenge comes with a bit of familiar sass, and she raises a brow in turn. “There’s nowhere else to go, El, please.”

He sighs. “Fine, fine. You win.” And then a warm smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

♢♢♢

Elliott remains with Leah for four days. It takes two before he starts personally feeling better, but it takes another day before the beach is dry enough for either of them to consider going through the sand. Elliott’s important belongings are salvageable, though bigger pieces like the bed and tables need severe rebuilding to make them serviceable again. The mold and rot creeping up the piano’s legs, however, nearly drives Elliott to tears.

Leah comforts him, passing along contact information she had from when she still lived with Kel in the city and had debated a career in music. It would take a couple months, but the piano could be good as new in no time.

On the fourth day, Elliott and Leah sit in the cozy woodland cabin, each quietly working. Elliott had crafted a space for himself at the table, back to the open windows, writing whatever additional scenes had come together in his feverish state. Leah stations herself at the easel, broad strokes bringing to life a vivid autumnal woodland scene. These quiet moments shared together have the opportunity to become something more profound.

Leah finishes putting the touch on the sunlight coming through the young buck’s antlers before she finally pulls back. “El? Do you wanna go to the fair?” she asks, stretching back and feeling her body thank her after so long of remaining in one position.

Elliott grunts in response, and she looks over her shoulder, seeing him clearly still in the midst of working. She sets her brush down on the paper towel, getting up and going over to him. “Elliott.”

“Huh?” He looks up, brows furrowed, flyaways swaying with the movement of his head. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“The fair. It’s starting soon. Do you want to go?” She comes up beside him, one hand in her pocket of her paint splattered jeans, the other on the table.

“Oh. I’d like that, sure.” He gives her a warm smile, hastily grouping the pages back together. “Sorry about not hearing you. I had a new idea for a story.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes; it takes place in an enchanted forest, where the weather is broken. Snow comes up from the ground, lakes and rivers collect at the bottom of tree branches – very Dalí meets Escher. But there’s one woman who moves forward through time, while the rest of the world moves backwards, and she meets a man who moves only through space but not through time. So everything happens at the same time for him, though he can go to different places to experience other perspectives. And they have to work together to put the forest back to rights, but they each have to rely on the other because while she can see the future, he can see the immediate changes and ripple effects, and they have to communicate that with the other while being completely unable to see what the other can. It’s an exercise in communication, trust, and romance.”

This is the farthest from her understanding as an artist, though she does understand the artistic references. “Wow. That sounds…interesting.”

He gives her a look as he laces his boots up. “…Yeah.” The look on his face is somewhat confused. Or maybe something else.

“What?”

He blushes. “Nothing. Let’s go?”

“No, hey, wait.” She steps between him and the door, looking up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that it’s a bad premise or anything. I think it’s really cool, it’s just…what are you calling it so far?”

“Sunken Shores,” he murmurs, and she has a small realization, that’s more of an altering of her perspective. Something that was always just slightly to the left, just slightly out of reach, now slotting into the proper place.

“…Really?” That’s not what she means to say, and she watches how his expression shutters. “I mean – Elliott, is that inspired by, uh…”

The pain in his expression shifts a little. “You really didn’t know?”

“I…” There’s no way that she’s going to be able to duck out of this conversation. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Get your hopes up,” he repeats in a whisper, as if completely unsure that she actually means that. “Why…you..oh.”

She blushes. “Yeah, oh.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to! But then you were here, and then you were sick, and I didn’t want to make things weird while you were houseless. And you really seemed to like living here, and I didn’t want to say something and make you uncomfortable. You’re my best friend, El. I didn’t want to ruin that.” She starts out defiant, voice raised a little in a panic, but it falls to a whisper by the end of it.

“Oh.” He rolls his lips, green eyes looking askance, before searching her face. “I mean, I’ve liked you for quite a while. I knew how things ended with Kel, though, and I didn’t want to press where you were, you know…still healing.”

She winces a little at the mention of her ex. “Yeah…she did a number on me, huh?” A beat, and then, “I’m better. Than I was. And I appreciate that, and…I…do you, um, want to…?”

Elliott blinks for a moment. “Do I want to what?”

Leah’s face flushes, her entire body heating. “Do you want to go out? Maybe?”

He tilts his head, giving her a warm smile. “What do you think going to the fair is?”

“Oh!” The noise is involuntary, a mere vocalization of a series of exclamation points. She’s flustered, and it only gets worse when Elliott takes another step, further into her personal space. He puts his fingertips beneath her chin, delicately tipping her chin upwards so they can lock eyes.

“A gentleman has no reason to withhold his love from the public,” he murmurs, “yet he should also never kiss and tell. So I find myself at odds, with how to proceed.’

This can’t be happening to her. The most romantic man in Pelican Town can’t be asking her in his roundabout way if she wants to kiss. She nods, barely adding pressure to the fingertips at her jaw, not breaking away from his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind,” she whispers.

Despite his obvious charm, Leah knows he’s never really been with anyone for a long period of time. Part of that was due to his discomfort with his perception before coming out, even to himself; once that veil had been lifted, and Elliott established a new relationship with himself, his confidence grew, and with it, his attractiveness. But he’s still new to all of this, and Leah wants to gently push him along, but all of those thoughts of remaining careful melt away the moment his lips touch hers.

She feels herself wrap her arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, going up on her tiptoes and humming into the kiss. It feels electric, like the storm that had forced the two of them together, yet by some miracle they’re able to keep it semi-chaste. When they part, their gazes remain on the other’s mouth, as if waiting for permission for a second kiss. It comes easily, Leah softly pressed against the wood of the doorway, Elliott now cradling her face between his large, writer’s hands, softly tasting the morning coffee from each other’s mouths.

When Elliott pulls back for the second time, Leah realizes they’re both panting. “Maybe…that was overdue,” she says softly, and Elliott laughs.

“One could say that.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and gives her a fond look that is familiar – one he gave her from between her sheets on the night of the storm. “Come. Let’s go get some of Gus’ specialty barbecue. And, perhaps, some of Farmer’s wine for the lady.”

Leah hugs him, pressing her face to his chest. They have so much more to talk about – the logistics of Elliott’s winter move, affording the piano repair, how Elliott will work in the cabin when Leah does her winter sculpting, when they should make the relationship public, among other things – but for right now she’s content to be here, in her cabin, much less lonely than either of them had been before.

“Sure. Let’s hit up the fair.” And so they do.

#commissions #stardew valley commission #stardew valley #sdv #sdv elliott #sdv leah #elliot/leah #aciddial #thank you for commissioning me!! this was a lot of fun

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frostsinth · 4 years

Text

Royal Flush - Pt. 7

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art

I am both sorry and not sorry. I really wanted to post this part because I think everyone will like it a lot. I hope you guys enjoy it. Of course... I will assure you that the next part is well underway, so you don’t perhaps try to murder me in my sleep when you reach the end.

Like what you see? Check out my MasterList above for more stories! Feel free to BuyMeACoffee for a starving artist, and if you’re interested, DM me for commission prices/details. As always, much love and appreciation for each and every one of you!

Enjoy!

The next few days passed by in such a blur, I hardly even registered them. My mornings would start with a training spar session with Damjan, who peppered in goblinese vulgarities and unsolicited relationship advice, much to my chagrin. Usually this was followed by an hour or two where I was left to my own devices. I had utilized my new charmed eyes and Seoc’s willing company to explore the top levels of the castle, but had promptly decided this was not the best use of my freedom the third time Seoc had to take the lead to bring me back to my quarters. It was during one of these excursions that we brooched the subject of my need for more clothes (Seoc politely alluded to it, for which I was extremely grateful) and it was arranged for a tailor to be commissioned for a few new outfits similar to the ones I had brought. The first was ready within a day, and I found it lovely despite the slight over embellishments of gold thread at the sleeves and collars on even the tunic and trousers as well as the vest and (thankfully) matching jacket. It seemed the tailor couldn’t completely resist their decadent nature (it probably seemed a horribly dull project to them considering their usual customers).

Before noon each day the King would appear, usually still in a sour mood, and we would share a quick meal before he took me along with him to complete his daily tasks. Most of his day to day responsibilities were things like managing disputes, discussing the use of Royal funds, monitoring progress on plans, and receiving reports from various ends of the kingdom. This was accomplished by meeting with various diplomats and members of court. I attended, but did not participate for the most part. They were kind enough to conduct most of the meetings in Common, but occasionally would slip back into goblinese. It turned out the kingdom was much larger than I had ever been led to believe; the portion of the goblin realm that rested under the same mountain as the castle was only its capital city. There were many other smaller cities and hamlets spread out far and wide beneath the mountain range.

By mid to late afternoon, everyone had been seen, and Grier would retire us to his study if he had paperwork to complete with Hibik. It was there that I began my lessons with a stout little old goblin named Sir Ludde. He spoke softly, and I often had to struggle to hear him. But he was very patient and seemed to have a solid grasp of the relationship between Common and goblinese. Our dinner would be brought to us there, and we would eat while we worked. Occasionally, Grier was needed elsewhere in the castle, and would leave me alone to my lessons. Usually he would return just as I finished and escort me back to my rooms for the evening.

I found I enjoyed our time alone. It was not often; the demands of the court kept the King quite busy (more so than usual, I was assured, due to the new Treaty happening to correspond with the harvest). Sometimes even when we found time to ourselves, we still had more work to do. I with my assignments from Ludde, which were difficult and required almost all of my concentration, and him with his paperwork. On these occasions, I would often look up to find him near me; spread out on the sofa next to me, sitting on the ground by the marble table at my feet. And, as if he could sense my eyes, he would look up and smile. And I would blush profusely and pretend to go back to whatever I had been working on. When we weren’t distracted by something else, he would sit close to me. And talk endlessly about this, that, or the other thing. The subject of our wedding came up more than once, and I tried hard not to squirm too much during the discussions. Although I didn’t share much during these moments, I was surprised to find myself growing accustomed to his presence... which of course, had been the intent.

The next time his responsibilities took him away from the study, I finished up with Ludde alone. I worked on the assignments he left me and penned a new letter to Morgana for Seoc to send out the next day, glancing at the door every few minutes. Those minutes ticked by into hours, and I began to grow restless with an ache forming in my neck.

I sighed, leaning back and blinking a few times. The words on the page had started to blur together; I just wasn’t understanding any of it anymore. I glanced at the door for the millionth time that hour, but same as all the previous, it remained closed. I shifted in the arm chair, glancing over to the dying fire. Wondering just how late it really was. Judging by my pounding head, I was guessing it was pretty late into the night by now.

Even if the hour hadn’t been so deep into the evening, between the clutter of Grier’s study and the strenuous labor of my latest assignment I was surprised I was still awake at all. I looked about quietly, considering the odds and ends and trinkets spread across the room. It wasn’t the first time the thought came to my mind asking if perhaps he had forgotten he had told me to wait here for him… It was seeming more likely with each passing hour.

Perhaps I should leave, and try to navigate back to my rooms. It wasn’t a super appealing thought considering my skill at getting lost. I sighed again, rubbing at my face with one hand. It was no use, I told myself. I wasn’t about to fall asleep on the couch here. I couldn’t stand the idea of being woken like a child to be led back to my chambers. Better that I at least make an attempt. Perhaps I could find a goblin to assist me. Seoc had already retired for the evening as both of us had been under the assumption the King would be returning to escort me back himself. I shifted and looked around one more time. But there would surely be others, despite the hour.

I shuffled my papers and left them in a neat pile on the marble table and blew out the candles I had been reading by. I had done what I could for the rest of the room; organizing and piling and stacking. My goblinese was still limited to the alphabet and a few simple words, so I didn’t dare sort papers too much. But at least there weren’t scarves strewn about haphazardly, nor inkwells and quills all over the place. I had returned books to shelves or otherwise neatly stacked them, had straightened trinkets and moved the candlesticks into a pattern. Tall silver, short gold, short silver, tall gold, and so on. More intentional. It looked better, if I was being honest, despite the explosion of colors and the amount of clutter that remained… I only hoped Grier would agree. I wrung my hands anxiously at the thought he would be irritated that I had changed his private study to meet my own standards… but then, argued an angry little voice, if he hadn’t wanted you to touch anything, he shouldn’t have forgotten you here. He only had himself to blame, I agreed with the voice.

I made my way over to the door, hesitantly tugging it open and peering out into the hallway beyond. Unfortunately, there was not a soul in sight. I would have to venture further to find assistance. I pulled the door closed behind me as quietly as possible. But which way? I glanced both directions, wracking my brain and trying to at least recall the general direction we took whenever we had left his study previously. Right, I supposed, though I wasn’t certain. I sighed tiredly, glancing around one last time before making my way down the hallway in that direction.

I wandered for far too long, until I had a hard time picking up my tired legs. Originally I followed the hall, listening for sounds and hoping to come upon a friendly goblin face. But the castle was quiet, almost eerily so. I grumbled to myself after the fifth empty passage. There should really be guards posted more frequently; I would bring it up later. I decided it was a mistake to leave the study, and turned to try and make my way back. And ended up in an entirely different part of the castle. Or at least, I was pretty sure I had. The statues and decorations were just as eclectic and scattered down these halls, but nothing looked familiar. Had I taken a wrong turn somewhere? I was pretty sure I had only retraced my footsteps… Maybe it was supposed to be a right at the fork behind me. I must have turned left initially.

I suddenly heard footsteps that weren’t mine, and eagerly tilted my head. Relief washing through me. Around the next corner I came upon their source; a narrow shouldered goblin who seemed to be carrying a crate of supplies. They seemed to be struggling actually, balancing two boxes on top of each other.

“Excuse me!” I called lightly, forcing myself to walk over calmly so as not to startle them.

They turned, and scarlet eyes widened in surprise. She (as I could see now that she turned around) quickly put the crates down and dipped her head respectfully. Her dark brown hair was cropped short on one side and braided on the other, and it fell neatly about long flat ears. She had a small nose with a wide base, and when she chanced a peek up at me, I saw dark green speckles on her round cheeks.

“Apologies, forgive me!” I told her. “I… I seem to be a bit lost. Can you direct me to my quarters? Or perhaps back to the King’s study?”

She straightened a little at my words, and her head tilted to the side. “Eto ochen, mo Onsa.” She replied, and her tone sounded apologetic. I felt my cheeks flush a little as she shook her head. “Non tuig shibalon…”

“Ah.. yes, I see.” I tried not to mumble, and carefully kept my disappointment out of my voice. I recognized ‘eto ochen’. ‘I’m sorry’. And I was certain she had said ‘shiba’, though perhaps I was pulling sounds where there were none. I dug through the rest of my limited reserves of goblinese. “Ah… Korol Grier, ah…” I gestured around, then swallowed hard and dropped my hand. “Eto ochen, cara…”

She giggled, then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. Bowing low and stammering something quickly. I held up my hands, patting the air before me.

“It’s alright, my fault entirely,” I assured her, and she looked up at me shyly. I tried to soften my look, but wasn’t sure if I succeeded, “I wish I knew a little more… I don’t suppose you can help me?”

The woman tapped her fingers to her lips, a gesture I had come to recognize as the universal sign of a goblin thinking. I waited patiently, hands tucked neatly behind me.

“Tha thu nomerak so’un Korol?” She offered, patting her chest and pointing to me then around the hall. I got the impression she was signing a guiding motion.

I nodded. “Erm, yes… I think. Korol… Grier.” Maybe she knew where he was and could bring me straight to him? Either way, she had said something about the King. And that was better than wandering the halls lost.

She smiled widely, nodding and bounding eagerly on her toes. She glanced over at the crates, patting them and tilting her head to the side. She asked something, gesturing to the crates again, then down the hall.

“Ah, you are… bringing these somewhere? I don’t mind, of course.” I nodded to the crates. “Thank you.”

She glanced at me, then moved to pick up the crates again. I quickly stepped over to help as she staggered under their weight, and took the top one for her. Her eyes went a little wide, and she looked me up and down. Then she smiled, seeming genuinely grateful and wholly awed. I decided that it was a good thing goblins didn’t hide their emotions so well; even if I couldn’t speak with her, I could easily tell what she was thinking.

“Ni pasi, mo Onsa.”

I returned her nod, recognizing her thanks. “Ussta bez.” I replied, and her smile widened. It brought a twinkle to her scarlet eyes.

She jerked her head and led the way down the hall. I followed behind, and our pace was much quicker now that she wasn’t struggling to carry something nearly her own weight. Not far away we came to a short, narrow door, half tucked behind a thick curtain. She waved me to stop, speaking softly, and shouldered it open. It seemed to be a small storage closet, and she walked in, dropping her crate amid some others at the back. She came over and I bent low, passing her mine, which she promptly brought to place with the rest.

She ushered me out, smiling and bobbing excitedly. As the door clicked closed behind her, she nodded and jerked her head. Speaking quickly and happily. She pointed to me, spoke something where the only words I made out again was ‘King’, then led the way down the hall. I followed her, hoping she was actually leading me to Grier, or perhaps his study. I also hoped I had remembered the word for ‘King’ correctly… I wondered if there were any similar words. But she seemed confident, and I was simply grateful not to be wandering alone anymore. The cluttered hallways were a bit ominous by oneself.

“I didn’t get your name,” I told her, keeping my stride short to avoid stepping on her ankles, “Ah...nazain, cara?”

She grinned over her shoulder at me, and spat out a long goblinese sentence. I blinked at her. She chewed her lip, her eyes dancing. “Hausa, mo Onsa.” She amended.

“Hausa?” I echoed, and she nodded excitedly. “That’s a very pretty name… Ni pasi, Hausa… Nazai Nikostratus.”

“Feos, ta non ussta, ussta bez, mo Onsa.” She replied. She stopped, apparently having reached our intended destination, and pointed to a grand doorway beside us. I glanced at it, but it was completely foreign to me. She smiled and nodded. “Nomerak so’un Korol.”

Crap… This was not Grier’s study. Nor, certainly, was it my own rooms. I was positive I had never been to this place before. I looked around, but there was no one else about. No other guards, no servants. Certainly not Hibik or Seoc.

“... Korol Grier?” I asked her tentatively, pointing to the door.

She nodded, grinning. I resisted the urge to chew at the inside of my cheek. Debating what to do. But she seemed so happy, I couldn’t quite bring myself to try and communicate the fact that… I still had no idea where I was. I tried to keep the embarrassment out of my face.

“Ah, Ni pasi, Hausa.” I told her again, careful to keep my tone polite. Dipping my head to her.

She bounced again, her dark hair bobbing on one side. “Non ussta bez, Onsa… Nee-koh-straw-tus.” She sounded out my name carefully, then giggled, bowing so low the ends of her hair brushed the carpeted floor. She gave me a little friendly wave, then darted off.

I waited for her to disappear around the corner before I released a heavy sigh. Well… Hausa had insisted that this door had something to do with Grier… so I supposed it would be alright to attempt to check beyond. Maybe she had meant he was in a meeting here? I strained my ears, trying to see if I could hear anything beyond the intricately carved oak doors. I reached out one hand and touched the pattern, scoffing slightly at the inlaid gold and silver. This door certainly seemed like the door that might lead to Grier; it screamed of his overly flamboyant style. I almost laughed at that thought.

I built up my courage and balled my hand into a fist, knocking lightly. There was no answer, and after a few moments, I tried again. Still no answer. Curiously, I tried the handle, and found it gave readily under my touch, unlocked. The door popped open easily despite its size, and I jumped. Before I could catch it, it slowly swung out of my reach. Revealing the room beyond.

It was large, and lavishly decorated. At first I thought it might be a library, or perhaps a visiting sitting room. The walls were almost entirely shelves, filled with books and scrolls and tomes. They seemed to be spilling off the shelves, along scarves, necklaces, and other long string like things that had been stuffed in the crevices between books. A large couch took up the majority of one side of the room, facing a stone fireplace that filled one wall. The couch was short and deep set, and ridiculously plush. There was also a set of armchairs around a small card table, a long narrow table along the back of the couch, and little round pedestals and tables lining the arms. Of course, nothing matched anything else, and again I was grateful that my charmed eyes did not see the color as lavishly in the dark as in candle light. The floor had at least three different carpets piled on it, and everything everywhere was absolutely covered or filled to bursting with stuff. Globes, bowls, vases, chests, jewelry boxes, glass jars, models, maps, parchment, quills, inkwells, jewels, rings, what I was pretty sure was a crown, sextants, astrolabes, and a whole manner of other things I didn’t have a name for nor the time to properly sort from the rest of the clutter. It spilled over the tables and dripped to the floor into piles at their bases, not dirty or filthy but certainly not organized. There was even an armchair filled with discarded clothing, or at least that was what I assumed it was based upon the errant sleeve, pant leg, or collar I could make out amid the jumble.

Despite this, it was not the overwhelming amount of clutter in the room that had me suddenly frozen in place. It was the smell. As soon as the door swung open, it hit me in a wave and made my heart spin in my chest. The soft scent of parchment and candlewax. The lingering tint of woodsmoke. But overlaying everything else, stronger than I had ever smelled it before (save for perhaps one other source) was the scent of sage and Myrrh. And whatever the indiscernible natural scent of his body that I had come to associate with Grier.

“H-Hello?” I called timidly, then quickly cleared my throat and straightened. Walking a more affirmative step forward. “Hello?” I tried again, more formally. “Is anyone here?”

I half expected the King to burst from behind one of the other doors that lead away from the room. I took a few more steps in, looking around slowly. The door swung on its hinges, rolling towards its frame as soon as I had cleared its arch. It moved on its own, and before I could react, it clunked closed. I wondered if it was enchanted. Based upon the other charms and such I had seen so far in the castle, as well as having seen more of Grier’s forgetful nature over the last few days, it didn’t seem far-fetched. I turned, looking around the room again and giving another quiet call. It seemed this was his foyer, though it was larger than mine, the layout was much the same. Just like the door, I could see his personality abound in each collected bobble and scrap of clutter. The realization that Hausa had assumed when I was looking for the King this was what I meant had me blushing at the edges of my collar. I pulled at my tunic, clearing my throat and looking around carefully. Brushing the thought aside.

I felt strange, standing there, surrounded by not only his things, but the overbearing scent of him. It made my tired head dizzy, as well as other things I briskly ignored, and I shook it quickly. I couldn’t stay here, now that I was certain the rooms were empty. And besides, what if Grier did go back to the study to look for me? If I wasn’t there, would he go to check that I had made it back to my rooms? And when he found those empty as well? I broke into a cold sweat at the thought of alarm bells sounding and a full sweep of the palace and city being conducted for me. I was certain his personal chambers would be one of the last places they checked. And I would be mortified to have caused such a fuss in the first place.

I had made up my mind to leave, and if not wait in the hallway, then to try and find another goblin (perhaps one that spoke Common) when the clunk of the door’s latch dropping had me jumping out of my skin. I spun, eyes shooting wide, flush filling my face.

Relief flooded over top my surprise as I recognized the goblin who stumbled in noisily, and I almost breathed his name out loud. Grier. I started to take a step forward, then stopped. The King hadn’t noticed me, and was staggering about. He knocked over the small side table by the door in his effort to walk over to the assorted pile of clothes on the armchair, and I didn’t need to speak goblinese to know he was heavily cursing in response. My eyebrows shot up as he quickly undid the buttons on his tunic, then loosened the ties and pulled it up over his head. Chucking it to the side.

I took a step back in shock at the sudden sight of his bare torso. His soft, grey-green skin was pulled taut with a healthy vigor over his muscular shoulders and back. I watched it ripple as he moved, digging around the pile of discarded clothes, and my mouth suddenly went quite dry and my pulse ricocheted. My retreat had me bumping into the card table, and I scrambled clumsily to try and catch the candlestick before it toppled over, without success. It crashed to the floor, and Grier spun at the sound.

I thought his eyes might just pop out of his sockets, and he nearly lost his balance entirely at the sight of me. I was certain there would be steam rising from my face, my blood was rushing through it so fast. I straightened so fast my spine protested, squaring my shoulders and trying to look more intentional and confident. And less guilty.

“H-how...H-how??” He finally managed after his mouth flapped uselessly a few times. The goblin tried to cross over to me, but his feet got tangled amid themselves and he barely caught himself on the couch.

I moved without thinking when I saw him stumble. With two quick strides, I was at his side, reaching out as if to catch him. I stopped short, straightening again and rubbing the back of my neck. I realized I was staring a moment later and quickly cleared my throat. Darting my eyes first to the left. Then to the right. Then circumventive around the room. Anywhere but on the shirtless goblin staring up at me with eyes falling out of his head.

“I-I apologize, Your Majesty, I didn’t-”

“Alright, I must have hit my head somewhere.” He mumbled, then slowly straightened himself, swaying slightly. “I lost my balance and passed out. And now I’m dreaming.”

I watched his eyes appraise me unabashed from head to toe. “A-ah, I… I didn’t mean t-to-”

“Or I’m hallucinating.” He amended at my stuttering response. “I felt guilty not going back to get you sooner, and now my conscience has conjured you up in the flesh.”

I didn’t think I could run any hotter. The heat of my cheeks would put a dragon to shame and my ears burned painfully. “N-no, Your Majesty, I’m-”

His hand came out, reaching for mine as if to ascertain the truth of the matter. I jerked away, startled by his movement and nearly squeaked as Grier suddenly toppled forward from over extending himself. I barely had time to react, jumping back towards him as suddenly as I had pulled away and putting my arms out to catch him before he hit the floor. He fell into my chest, and I just barely kept us both upright in my surprise.

We froze like that, and scarlet eyes met mine as Grier slowly craned his neck to look up at me. His fall had him leaning heavily against me, one hand on each arm, his upper torso against my abdomen, his legs haphazardly skewed beneath him. My heart raced a mile a minute in my breast, and I held my breath captive in my throat. Trying not to think too much about the warmth of the skin on the small of his back beneath my palm.

“So…” He breathed. “You really are here…” I watched him blink slowly a few times, confounded. He glanced around, as if not entirely certain where he was, then turned his attention back to me. “What… how did you get here?”

I swallowed hard. “I-I… I was trying to find my way back to my rooms-”

“These are my rooms.” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. Then he looked around again. “Aren’t they?”

“Y-yes! But, you see, I got lost…” I stammered, then suddenly realized I was still holding him against me. I carefully tried to right him, seeking to put space between us once more to allow my thoughts to have a remote chance of functioning more normally.

“In my rooms?”

“Yes! I-I mean, I mean n-no, I was… I, there was a… a servant. She didn’t speak Common-” He swayed again, but steadied himself with a hand on the back of the couch. I stared at the ground at our feet, trying to completely disregard the wave of intense heat washing through not only my face but the rest of my body as well. “She- ah… there was some… miscommunication I think-”

He laughed, then hiccuped, and I lifted my gaze to look at him in surprise. “Ah well, serendipit-dious then… I was on my way back to you, but I spilled something on my shirt, you see-” He moved to gesture to his torso, then seemed to realize he was in fact shirtless. He blinked stupidly, then looked around. “Ah… I… I meant to change-”

“A-are you alright?” I asked dubiously, somehow managing to get my tongue to work properly in my mouth. I had been so caught up in my own embarrassment I hadn’t realized how much his words were slurred. Not to mention his strange lack of balance.

“Mm?” He was rubbing at the back of his neck, which made his chest muscles flex in a way that had a shiver running down my spine. “Mmm. Oh, ah. Yes, that. This, rather.” He shuffled his feet, then barely caught himself again. “I was… I am afraid I partook in a fair share of liquor with our dear General Damjan…” He laughed lightly again. “The man can drink like a horse, I tell you!”

I stiffened, suddenly praying that perhaps this whole misadventure might be forgotten tomorrow. If only I could make my escape now. “I-I apologize, I would have-”

“Non, halshen Osna mo!” He cried, then stopped, blinking a few times. I stared at him, wide eyed. He gave me a sheepish grin. “Ah… The fault is mine, Nisostraw… Nickosta… My young Prince.” He started to spin quickly on his heel, extending one hand out. “But come! I shall rectify it and escort you to your rooms-”

I had to leap forward to catch him again, hooking my arm under his. I gritted my teeth even as my cheeks throbbed from the blood rushing beneath them. “You are certainly in no state to be going anywhere, Your Majesty.”

He scoffed at me, letting me settle him back on his feet. “Stop calling me that, you handsome fool,” He demanded, trying to push my hands away and nearly losing his balance again in the process, “I am perfectly capable of escorting you to your rooms.”

He began to stride towards the door, purposefully and carefully placing each step before him. “Ah.. Your Majesty-”

“I’m not answering to that!” He called over his shoulder, halfway to the door now.

“Y-your Majesty…” He continued to ignore me. “Grier!” I cried exasperatedly.

Finally he stopped, turning and swaying slightly. A cocky grin on his lips. “Yes, my young Prince?”

I pursed my lips, straightening slowly and fixing my composure as I tucked my hands behind my back. “... You’re still not wearing a shirt.”

“Eh?” He looked down, and his complexion became a little darker. The goblin cleared his throat, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. “... Perhaps you have a point.”

“... It’s alright, I-I’ll figure out the way back.” I reassured him.

He nodded, looking a little disappointed. I moved to walk towards the door, trying to decide exactly what I could do, and not fancying a night wandering the halls. Grier turned to address me as I drew closer, and started to topple to the side once more. I just managed to catch him again, my arm scooping out. Our eyes met, and his mischievous grin returned.

“I seem to keep falling for you, my young Prince.” He murmured teasingly.

My breath caught in my throat and my face burned, but I shook my head to hide it. “...I can’t believe you just said that.”

He laughed, his hand lingering on my arm as I got his feet beneath him once again. “I couldn’t resist, it was too perfect.”

I sighed, glancing at the door, then back to him. “I suppose I-I should get you... settled first. Elsewise you might end up spending the night on the floor.”

His grin turned to a small scowl. “I most certainly would not! I am quite capable of taking care of myself!”

I raised one brow at him. “Say my name, then.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Nikostrawn… Nack-we.. Neekohstran…”

I took up his elbow, steering him towards the rear chambers. “Nope. Let’s go.”

I ignored his continued protests as well as his still very distracting bare top half as I led him through the sitting room, then towards the door which corresponded to my own bedroom in my quarters. I opened it experimentally, and was pleased to find it was in fact the sleeping chambers. A large bed overflowing with numerous thick, colorful blankets sat in the middle of the back wall. It had a tall canopy overhead, and long draping curtains sloppily tied to the posts. The rest of the room was equally disheveled and I resisted the urge to sigh as we picked our way across the scattered items spilling from pedestals, tables, and shelves onto the floor.

I let him fall face first onto the bed when we reached it, and heard a muffled groan as he did. I placed my hands on my hips, looking around before noticing a pitcher set nearby with a copper chalice beside it. I picked my way over and raised it to my nose. Sloshing it about and sniffing at it experimentally. I poured a bit into the chalice, turning and making my way back over to him. Confident that while I had no idea how long it had been sitting out, this was at least water of some form or another that had at one point been intended for drinking.

I dodged as a boot whizzed past me, and turned with a small scowl forming on my lips. Grier smirked, shrugging, and seeming pleased to have managed to sit right-side up amid the voluminous sheets and wiggling his now bare toes. He took the offered glass, drinking deeply and peering up at me through pale lashes.

“... If you’re settled now?” I pressed, refilling his cup then setting the pitcher on his nightstand. I briskly turned to make my escape.

“Wait!” He caught my arm, kneeling on the mattress precariously to be nearly at my eye level. I stared at his hand, then studied his face. “My head is still spinning… keep me company a while longer?”

His hand was surprisingly strong despite the amount of alcohol I amassed was swirling through his veins, and he tugged on me insistently. I sighed, shaking my head but too tired to resist and allowed him to pull me a little closer. My flush returned, and my heart thundered in my ears as he settled onto his bottom again and patted the edge of the bed beside him. I considered him one last time, then slowly lowered myself to sit in the indicated space. He pulled one knee up, leaning over it and sipping at his water again.

“You are very kind, my young Prince,” He said, smiling at me coyly, “Especially since I left you waiting… it wasn’t my intent.”

I nodded, looking down at my hands on my lap. “What kept you?”

Grier sighed deeply. “Well, first it was a meeting with Lord Notah, who always wants me to try his latest imports. Then I ran into Damjan, who insisted on playing a card game with me and plying me with copious amounts of alcohol.” He chuckled sheepishly. “I lost track of time.”

I frowned slightly, thinking it over. “Understandable, I’m sure. If I had a better head for the castle, it wouldn’t have been an issue… I wouldn’t need to be led about like a child.” I tried not to sound too bitter about it, but wasn’t sure if I succeeded.

He shook his head. “I think it worked out for the better though, no?” He cleared his throat, thumbing his chalice. “Certainly makes for a story.”

Noticing it was nearly empty, I reached for the pitcher, refilling his cup. I belatedly realized as I returned it that the motion had me reaching across his lap, bringing our bodies perilously close together. I blushed, leaning back and rubbing the back of my neck. Grier took a slow sip of the newly refilled water, eyeing me with a look I couldn’t quite place but that had my stomach flipping.

“... Perhaps we can use this time to speak some more?”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “How do you mean?” I asked dryly, stiffening my jaw warily.

He shifted, chuckling into his cup. “I always have questions about you… how are you finding goblins?” He peered up at me. “Are we very strange to you?”

I thought about that for a moment, rubbing the palm of my hand. “In some ways...”

“What ways are those?” He pressed.

“Ah…” I swallowed hard, hesitant. “... You are very… friendly.”

He laughed. “Friendly? Are humans so cold?”

I shook my head. “Not ‘cold’ per say just… more reserved. More.. subdued.”

“I see. We certainly don’t abide by reserved-ness.” He mused, nodding.

“I-I apologize-”

He waved away my words. “I completely agree. And I find humans equally strange.”

I glanced at him curiously despite myself. “We are?”

He nodded. “Yes! You are an absolute enigma, everything you do is a mystery to me.” He cocked his head to the side. “You also always stand like there is a lance strapped to your spine. Is it so wrong to see that you are actually feeling something?”

I almost laughed, but settled for an embarrassingly casual shrug of my shoulders. “It… I’m not sure…” I looked off to the side. “It was always… frowned upon. Showing emotion… Especially as a Prince…” I stopped, hesitating.

“Why? What’s wrong with having emotions?” I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Just your thoughts.” He reminded me. “No filter. Just speak. Even if you don’t think it makes sense.”

I chewed that over for a minute, frowning slightly. “It’s… it’s seen as a weakness… A lack of control…” I paused again, struggling to understand my life through the eyes of an outsider. I glanced at him, then back down at my hands. “It’s just how it’s always been. You don’t question it…” I rubbed at my palm again. “H-how do goblins see it?”

“Emotions are a part of life,” He replied, leaning over his knee and taking a long sip of his water. “Trying to fight one's emotions would be like trying to control the sea. Sure, during fair weather you might appear be able to, but come the first storm?” He sighed. “Why would humans try to deny such a large part of themselves?”

“It’s... it’s just how it’s always been... We’re not so good at accepting changes…” I mumbled honestly, “Especially things deemed unusual or … different...”

There was silence for a long moment. My neck itched to look up at him, but I couldn’t quite manage. I sighed deeply after a while, straightening and shaking my head.

“It is late. I should be going-”

I stopped short as his hand caught my arm again. “You can hardly be expected to find your rooms on your own. And it’s clear I can’t bring you...” He pointed out, and I stared down at the way his green skin seemed all the more vibrant against my pale sleeve. “Why not just… stay? Besides, I feel like I never get to see you anymore.” He quickly changed the subject as I started to stiffen at his suggestion.

“See me?” I echoed, surprised. “We’ve hardly been apart.”

“Well, yes, but… not alone like this.” He fumbled with his drink, then gave me a lopsided smile. “I had hoped to charm another kiss out of you tonight.”

I swallowed hard, and my eyes dropped back to my lap. “O-Oh….”

My common sense told me to leave. To say good evening and make my way out. What did it matter how late it was, or how unlikely it was that I would ever find my rooms on my own? I couldn’t help the old voice at the back of my mind screaming about how improper it was to be sitting alone with him in his bed… Another part of me… a quieter part, becoming louder by the minute… wanted to see what would happen if I did stay. Perhaps if I hadn’t already been so tired, my will to resist that second voice would have been stronger. Perhaps if I hadn’t felt myself in a heavy fog made of exhaustion and embarrassment, my lifetime of proper etiquette might have won out… As it was...

“... Perhaps I might tell you how handsome you are again,” Grier continued tentatively, when I made no further move to leave, “... And how I can’t stop thinking about the way you kissed me outside your rooms…” I blushed profusely and shifted restlessly. “.... Or maybe I could… perhaps recite you some goblinese poetry? If that’s something you’d like.” He offered, and I felt him roll his thumb up and down my arm. “... And talk about how I dream of the day I won’t have to ask... I will just know exactly what I need to do or say to make you smile.”

I looked at his hand again. As my eyes fell on it, he gently squeezed my arm, then ran it down the length to my own hand. I didn’t even think; my wrist rotated, and he slid his palm over mine. I swallowed hard, trying to force my heart out of my throat and back into my chest where it belonged.

“... Is it working yet?”

“A-ah...I… I-I should…” I stammered uselessly.

I could hear his grin lacing his next words. “Well, I’ve gotten you flustered… That’s a start.” He traced his thin fingers up and down the lines of my palm. “... Can I ask you something?” I nodded numbly. “... Are you scared of me?”

I started slightly, my eyes jumping to his face in confusion. I met his ruby reds, watching me hesitantly. But his question seemed sincere, not teasing. I thought about it for a moment, then looked back at our hands.

“... No. Not… Well… Not of you...” I stopped, swallowing hard again. “I suppose… I am a little afraid of… umm…” He slowly continued to stroke up and down my palm soothingly. “I-I… I am… I am scared of… of… “ I sucked in a tight breath, and found that my hands shook. Grier’s fingers quickly wrapped themselves between mine, squeezing gently. “... Of getting hurt again…”

“... Again?” He breathed. But I pursed my lips, shaking my head. I couldn’t… I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t even think about it. He brought our hands to his chest, pressing the back of mine against his heart. “... I won’t hurt you… I can’t hurt you…” I managed to bring my eyes back to his. “Gods above, I-I can’t even begin to express…” His other hand came up, trailing along the collar of my tunic, skimming along the soft underside of my neck. “You are… so wonderfully... wonderful…” He laughed. “I think I got the better end of our bargain.” I shook my head, trying to look away, but he caught my cheek against his palm. “... Stay with me?”

My breath hitched. “... You’re drunk…”

He shrugged. “And if you try to leave now who knows where you’ll end up…. So just stay… stay here safe with me.”

I glanced over. “Perhaps the couch-”

“Here with me.” He said firmly, then quickly added; “Just to sleep.” After his promise his mischievous grin returned. “I’m far too besotted to try anything untoward… your virtue is safe, my young Prince.”

I choked on a laugh in my throat and shook my head. “I-it’s not exactly appropriate-”

He scoffed, squeezing my hand gently, still clasped to his bare chest. “I am King! I decide what’s ‘appropriate’.” His grin grew. “Besides, it’s not like we’d be crowded.”

I glanced over our shoulders at it, my heart thrumming in my ears, my breath quivering in my throat. “... I’m not sure why you have such a large bed… when you are so small.” I replied dryly.

Grier laughed loudly, rolling to his knees. The motion brought him precariously close, and my eyes widened as he kneeled on the bed next to me. I even had to tilt my head back slightly to look up at him. He skimmed the fingertips of his free hand along the edge of my jaw, the other still trapped against his breast, and I saw his scarlet eyes grow dangerously hot. I felt my blood rush, and tried to reconcile with the face that my tongue was suddenly far too large for my mouth.

“I can assure you... I am anything but small.”

I nearly knocked him off the bed as I jumped out of it, yanking my hand back from him and stumbling over my own feet as I scrambled to get them beneath me. I spun, facing him as if he might lunge after me, my hands raised defensively. I scrambled back a few steps and nearly fell over one of his boots. The goblin himself barely managed to catch himself at the edge of the bed, and stared at me in surprise as my face lit on fire and my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.

“Y-you...I-I-I don’t, We-ah, y-you, I-I mean uh, I mean-th-that’s not-” I tried unsuccessfully half a dozen times to form a sentence, and found my lips wholly inept for the task. Not to mention my mouth felt drier than a desert, and there was a frustrating large lump in my throat in the shape of my heart. My stomach flipped and twisted and a cold sweat broke out at the back of my neck.

Grier swung his legs out, staggering from the bed himself. Hands up, apologetic crooked smile in place. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to ah… startle you so…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I got a bit carried away with the banter.”

I clamped my mouth shut, cringing and clasping my hands behind my back. Berating myself for my lost composure over a few simple words, but my head spun. I shook it, trying to level myself, yet felt my mind absolutely rioting with the notion. I felt my lips move, felt my tongue form shapes. But as my jaw refused to open, the sounds were chopped off at the source and I merely stood with my eyes darting wildly about. Looking for anything else to focus on other than the goblin standing in front of me.

“Well, while we are on the subject...” He began, putting his hands on his hips and looking me up and down. “What is it with humans and sex?” I nearly squeaked at the word. “Why are you so skittish about even hinting at it?”

I stammered and sputtered, then clamped my mouth shut again. It was no use. My lips and tongue just could not seem to coordinate with each other. I shook my head vehemently, opening my mouth then promptly closing it. Grier looked more amused than annoyed, and his fingers drummed on his hips. It seemed he wasn’t meaning to tease though, and was genuinely asking. I tried to take comfort in that, but found it not particularly possible.

“... Is it because you consider it… unclean perhaps?” He offered, and I swallowed hard. “Or do humans not find the same pleasure in it?” He frowned thoughtfully at that. “I would hope that is not the case.”

I shook my head, felt my mouth drop back open. A few sounds came out, and I cleared my throat. “I-it… it’s just… umm” I shifted and dropped my gaze to the floor. “I-it’s just… n-not… not talked about.”

“But why?” He pressed, taking a few steps closer.

I swallowed hard again, then cleared my throat. Stiffening as he swayed another pace. “We… I … Umm…” I shuffled again, eyes darting about, “It’s … I suppose we… ah… it’s… shameful… I guess…”

“Shameful?” He echoed, sounding confused. “Why?”

“Ah… um… Well, because… ah…” I was almost shaking, but somehow managed to remain on my feet. “It’s… vulgar and… personal… and… because it…. Umm… Feels good…” I dropped into barely above a whisper at the end.

One slender brow raised. “You don’t talk about sex… because it’s shameful to do so… and it’s shameful… because it feels good?” His smile returned. “That makes no sense! What’s wrong with feeling good?”

It was a valid point, and I tried to focus on the philosophy of his question rather than the subject. Even as my mind provided copious amounts of related but very distracting thoughts on the matter. My eyes still darted about, and seeing this he had stopped his approach with a safe few strides still between us. Letting me calm myself once more.

“I-I’m… I’m not sure… Maybe… Maybe because… ah…” I dropped off and reached a shaking hand to rub at the back of my neck. “Well… we make ourselves feel guilty for… for enjoying ourselves… For indulging in… ”

He gave a deep ‘hmmm’ as I dropped off, rubbing at his face. His head tilted to the side, his hair falling wildly about him. “I suppose it would go along with how you never seem willing to be even remotely self-indulgent, and constantly feel the need to apologize for yourself.” I must have flinched because he quickly raised his hands. “It’s ok! I don’t mind… I just hope you realize you don’t have anything to apologize for… Especially if it makes you happy...”

I gave a small nod, settling my eyes off to the side again. We stood quietly for a moment, the tension trailing heavy fingers between us. I didn’t dare check to see if he was staring at me, in case our eyes accidentally met. My face was still flushed hot, and my collar itched from sweat.

“It’s late. I can barely stand anymore…” He said finally, his voice gentle, “If you want to sleep on the couch… I don’t mind… I want you to be comfortable... But…” He hesitated, “I would be happier if you felt safe enough to join me in my bed.” When I glanced at him out the corner of my eye, he gave me a small, wry grin. “I promise I’ll behave myself.”

I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck again, still twitchy. It was late, and I was teetering on the edge of collapse myself. Not to mention the spasms in my chest from our conversation.

“... I’m not sure you’re capable of behaving yourself…” I muttered, perhaps a little grumpier than I intended, shuffling yet again.

His laugh was warming, and I felt a little tension ease with the sound of it. I peeked at him again, and his sharp toothed grin had my heart rate spiking. “Well, if you’d rather, perhaps I should sleep on the couch,” His lips twitched, “... Since I’m smaller.”

A soft, nervous laugh petered from my own lips, shaking and brief. But it made his grin grow even wider. I stiffened, glancing around again. Trying to sort through my own thoughts.

“...That wouldn’t be fair to kick you out of your own bed…” I mumbled.

“So does this mean I’ve convinced you?” He asked, playing for innocence. I lifted my eyes, watching him take a few ungraceful steps back and sit on the edge of the bed again.

“... I should probably just go back to my own rooms…” I replied, though my resolve sounded weak even to my own ears.

His chin bobbed lightly. “Should. Maybe. .. But will you?”

I hesitated again, and he slid back further into the bed, gesturing gently with one hand. I studied it, shifting from foot to foot. He waited patiently. I looked over his shoulder at the bed, and suddenly felt so very heavy and tired. My back ached, and my legs quivered beneath my weight. I blinked, remembering how good it felt to sleep.

My feet moved of their own accord, slowly, haltingly. Carrying me over to the side of the bed. Grier watched quietly as I slipped off my boots and slowly sat on the edge of the mattress. The hair on the back of my neck tingled, feeling his eyes. My fingers felt numb as I clumsily undid the buttons of my vest, then let it slide off.

When I turned, he was sliding back to the head of the far side of the bed. Pushing aside the blankets and shuffling down into them. I swallowed my nerves, scooching back myself and slowly pulling my legs up. I hesitated, my hand pulling at the starch collar of my tunic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me without my shirt before, a small part of me reasoned. And while my trousers were comfortable enough to sleep in, I would be hard pressed to find a comfortable position with the tunic... My hands came up while my boldness lingered, reaching over my shoulders and tugging the fabric over my head. Goosebumps trailed over my skin as I gently folded the tunic and placed it on the bedside stand. I quietly lay down with my back to him, stiff as a board.

I felt the mattress shift, and turned my head slightly to see him sliding closer out of the corner of my eye just before his hands slowly rolled over the bare skin of my shoulders. I froze, my breath faltering as his warm palms traced lightly down my back, then up. Gently, his hands came up, cupping into the curve of my shoulder and giving a light tug. I obediently rolled to my back, letting out a shuddering sigh as my shoulders hit the soft blankets. Grier’s head was on the pillow next to mine, and I watched him quietly. His hand came to my chin, skimming his fingertips with a feather soft touch along my jaw. Lightly turning it to face him properly as he trailed them over its length, then following the curve of my neck. His fingers rose and fell with the lump in my throat as I swallowed nervously.

I watched his face, even as his scarlet eyes seemed to be tracing over the rest of mine. I watched his attention move down the length of my neck, his fingers mirroring his gaze, then across my collarbone. Coming to a rest on my sternum. His eyes flicked up to meet mine then, and I searched them hesitantly. They were filled with warmth, and a tenderness that made my heart skip. I wondered if he could feel the missed beat beneath his fingertips. He shifted a little closer, and sighed deeply. I could see him slowly relaxing, and somehow… the sight had me relaxing too.

Grier traced his index finger up and down first my sternum, then my collarbone. It was entrancing, and I felt myself relax incrementally more with his soothing touch. His lids drooped lazily, but his eyes remained stubbornly open. Moving from my face to watch my chest rise and fall with whisperingly shy little breaths. I was stuck watching those scarlet eyes, the way he blinked languidly every few minutes, each one a little heavier than the last. I memorized the way his wild strands of wheat hued locks fell haphazardly across his forehead and heavy brow, with a few long strands trickling past his ear and down his neck. I considered the shape of the edge of his jaw, and the relaxed curl of his lips.

I didn’t realize I was staring with my mouth slightly parted until his hand came back up, cupping my chin. I closed my lips, but couldn’t keep my gaze from flicking to his. I turned, rolling onto my side to better face him. He closed the gap left by my movement, leaving only a ghost of space between us. Whenever he breathed his skin brushed against mine, and I shivered at the sensation. His hand trailed back down, over my shoulder, and I moved my arm beneath his touch. Flexing the muscles so that as his hand skimmed its length to mine, I could turn it and feel the pads of his fingers whisper against my own. He glanced down at our hands, then rebounded and traced his way back up my arm to my shoulder. My own hand lingered where he had left it between us, then slowly reached out. Flattening against his own shoulder.

He was so warm… And his skin was firm, with a texture as if almost beveled, but barely discernible. I brushed my palm over the crook of his neck, lingering for a moment with my thumb on the apple of his throat. His eyes closed fully as I continued up, cupping the sharp edge of his jaw against my palm. I stared for a moment, the way his grey-green skin seemed more vibrant against mine, the way my own color seemed warmer… I slid closer, leaning over and running my hand back to bury my fingers in the thick mess of hair at the base of his skull.

He parted his lips slightly as I pressed mine to them, and I relished the faint hint of liquor lingering there. I felt his breath flutter against me, and felt my own eyes droop shut. His hand lingered on my chest, his thumb tracing thoughtfully small circles. I felt his mouth open against mine, and responded in turn, reaching out tentatively with my tongue to dance around the tip of his. I could almost hear the click in his jaw as he opened it more, straining closer, and deeper. I welcomed his tongue, feeling it trace around the inside of my mouth. It was longer than mine, which could barely reach the edge of his front teeth. I lightly flicked it at the points of his incisors, curious, but felt heat growing in my core as his tongue skimmed my molars and the side of my cheeks.

Grier pulled away a little then, his tongue slipping back. I was surprised to find myself following him, unwilling to part yet. Wanting to keep the taste of him longer. His sharp teeth pricked my bottom lip as he bit it gently to still my pursuit and a breathy gasp escaped me before I could catch it. He sprung forward at the sound, like a predator unable to resist the fleeing prey, locking our mouths back together. His hand slid up my chest, scooping the back of my neck and pressing me fervently against him. Suddenly tasting less of liquor and more of hunger, hot and burning in my mouth. And I drank deep of his craving, feeding my own as I slid closer, pressing our bodies together. His arm pinned against the bed came up to catch my neck and hold me against him, freeing his other to roam down to my waist. I could feel the muscles of his arm flex against me as his fingers gripped at my side, then grabbed at the small of my back. His own smaller body writhing against mine.

All too suddenly, he pulled us apart again, shaking himself. I found myself winded and breathy, my eyes reluctantly opening and releasing me from whatever spell I had fallen under.

“I promised I would behave myself.” He breathed, and I nearly leaned in to catch those words directly from his lips with my own.

A shiver ran down my spine as his scarlet eyes flicked up to meet mine. “.... I don’t think you’re doing a good job proving that...”

He laughed lightly, pressing his hand firmly into the small of my back. I barely managed to keep my breath from shuddering with that, and was glad when he rolled it back to the relative safety of my shoulder.

“You can hardly plead innocence.” He murmured, his thumb coming across my lips. “I swear… your lips are like a drug…”

I would have turned away to hide from the implication of his words, but held still beneath his touch for a moment. Letting him trace back and forth over the features of my face. I let my hand trail from the thicket of his hair to his ear, thumbing the gems piercing the cartilage there.

“... Since I’m misbehaving already…” He mused, then straightened, propping himself on one elbow to look down at me. I eyed him warily. “...I’m dying to know. Then I swear I’ll leave you alone for the night.... Have you ever…?”

He let the question hang, and I felt the blood quickly rush to my face as I realized his intent. I shifted, letting my hand slide down to rest on his collarbone. Swallowing hard.

“.... Once.” I mumbled uncomfortably.

He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “...With another man?” I nodded, not meeting his gaze. “... I thought humans…?”

I shook my head. “No… not… not openly.” A shaky sigh evaded my defenses, and I felt him lean a little closer, rubbing his thumb against me gently. “It was… I had thought…”

I dropped off, my voice broken, and he didn’t pry. I felt his lips against my temple, and my eyelids drooped. Feeling strangely comforted by the touch, especially as his hand came up to caress my cheek. I turned into his palm, and breathed in the scent of him. Not that I had lost it once since I had come to his chambers… the place was heavy with his presence. I let myself be completely enveloped in it, closing my eyes again.

“... I’ve had many lovers,” He confessed softly against my ear, “Men and women.”

I nodded slowly. “I know.”

Grier pulled away and I felt him settle back onto the pillow beside me. “... Does it bother you?”

“No.” I didn’t even have to pause to think about that, opening my eyes to meet his.

He studied me for a moment, and saw his lips twitch. “I’m… a little surprised. I thought you might be … off put. Being that I have lain with both...”

“... Would you want to take a... a lover?”

I felt his hand at my cheek tighten, and he vehemently shook his head. “No. Not anymore…” His touch gentled, and his eyes grew softer. “Just you…”

“Then it doesn’t bother me.”

He smiled, running his hand down to trace his thumb along my lips. I watched his scarlet eyes study them for a moment. “... Would you?”

I shook my head, feeling his hand move with it. “... Just you.”

He nodded, his smile growing. “That… makes me very happy…” He shifted, glancing away. “I’ve never… well… I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face… And I’m not the type to just…” He glanced back at me sheepishly, “Suffice it to say, I had those who were willing stay and keep me company for some time. And I enjoyed each relationship… But…” He shifted again, hiding beneath his wild hair. “They’ve never… I have never…” The goblin hesitated, and I waited patiently, curious despite myself. “... This feels different.” He stared at my chest, running his fingertips slowly over the edges of my muscles. “This feels… better.”

I tucked my fingers back into the deep locks of his hair. My head swirled and felt thick with exhaustion. But I nodded back sleepily. “...It does.”

Grier shifted closer, tucking his face against my neck. I would have stiffened in surprise, but could already feel sleep tugging insistently at my senses. And gods, he was just so wonderfully warm…

…..

The knocking roused me. I would have sat bolt upright, but was weighed down by the goblin who had apparently entangled himself with me. His arms wrapped as far around me as they could reach, his legs folded and half tucked between mine. Curled to bury his head deep into my torso. I stared at him in shock, trying to get my bearings, then jumped as the knocking sounded again.

“Your- ah…. G-Grier,” I hissed softly, not quite sure what to do with my hands now that I was awake and letting them extend awkwardly out in front of me. The knock came again, and I craned my neck as if I would be able to see who was at the door. “Grier!” I said, more insistently.

A grumble answered me, and to my horror the King merely burrowed deeper against my bare chest. I almost sighed exasperatedly, but jumped in a near panic as the knock came again. Sounding much more urgent this time. My face burned at the thought of being discovered like this; entangled in the bedsheets with … well, he was my betrothed. By human standards, it would be outright scandalous. But… I wasn’t sure if the goblins would care… or if I did anymore, for that matter...

At the fifth knock, louder than the previous, I could stand it no more. I untangled myself from Grier, pushing his hands away as he tried to wrap himself back around me. Like prickle vines, where you free yourself from one and find another attached. As soon as I managed to mostly free myself though, he gave another grumbling sound and rolled back over. Embedding his face into the pillows. I shook my head, scrambling to my feet and over to the foyer. Nearly tripping over his clutter as I did. I scowled at it, glancing back over my shoulder. But the King seemed unperturbed by the final knock, nor by my escape from his clutches. Blissfully unaware and happily burrowed into his bed.

I hesitated momentarily with my hand on the door. Debated simply hiding somewhere and hoping whomever was on the other side knew the King well enough to either give up or just enter. And then hopefully I would remain unnoticed and be able to sneak back to my chambers… I sighed, shaking my head. Yanking the door open before I could lose my nerve.

If Hibik was surprised that I was the one who answered the door, he did a good job of hiding it. He gave me a quick polite bow, and I carefully kept my torso screened by the door.

“Your Highness, there are visitors waiting on the main floor.”

I blinked, a bit confused. “For Gri-Ah, I mean, the King?”

He shook his head, glancing nervously about. “For both of you… They are emissaries of the human court.”

I stiffened, my mind suddenly racing. Emissaries? Here? I had received no word… It was highly unorthodox for us to send people unannounced. Unless.. unless there was some sort of emergency, where there was no time to send word ahead...

“Did they say why?”

He shook his head. “No, Your Highness. They would speak only with you and the King.”

Dread filled my chest, and I nodded to him in a daze. My head spun like a top and numbness was tingling at the ends of my extremities. I glanced over my shoulder. Debating if I had time to go back to my chambers. It pained me that the first thought was not to run to speak with them, but to compose myself. Lest my people think less of me. I was forced to make myself presentable before I could deal with whatever urgent business they had. I gritted my teeth at the ridiculousness of it, my stomach somersaulting as the possibilities raced through my head.

“Send Seoc with some fresh clothes for me, if you please, then see to our guests,” I told him, my voice tight, “I’ll… try to wake the King.”

Hibik gave me a sympathetic look. “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.” He bowed his head, then darted off.

I closed the door behind him, a cloud settling around my head and nerves wrapping tighter around my stomach. After a delayed moment, I turned and picked my way back to the bedroom.

“...Your Majesty?” I called, lingering in the doorway. Suddenly almost afraid to pass the threshold. But he didn’t answer. “... Grier.” I tried, a little louder.

A grunt this time. I waited, thinking there would be more. When nothing followed, I gritted my teeth, and forced myself across the room. Still in a haze. I stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at his bare back, half buried in the blankets.

“Y-....G-Grier.” I said again. When he didn’t answer, I even went so far as to reach out and touch his shoulder lightly. “Grier… There are emissaries here to see us.”

He shifted, and I stepped back, thinking he was about to sit up. But he just rolled a little, then heaved a sigh and settled into the mattress again. I pushed his shoulder more forcefully, starting to get a little frustrated. And more than a little apprehensive. My thoughts still racing, my heart thundering in my ears. He grunted, and even swatted my hand away.

“Gr-”

“I don’t care. Tell them to come back later.” His grumpy voice was thick with sleep and muffled beneath the pillows.

My hands were shaking now, and I shoved him again. “Grier!” I demanded, and cut myself short when I choked over the end of his name.

Red eyes emerged sharply from somewhere amid the blankets at the break in my voice, eyebrows arched above. I must have forgotten to clear the emotion threatening to swallow me from my face, because whatever he saw there had him quickly sitting up. My mouth opened to speak, but even before I could he was before me. Kneeling at the edge of the bed and cupping my face in his palms.

“What’s the matter??”

The surprise and alarm in his voice hurt, breaking my composure even more, and I brought shaking hands up to catch his wrists. If I had thought to pull his hands away, I would have struggled; he kept his grip like iron, though somehow still gentle. I found I didn’t have the strength to remove them anyways; emotionally or physically. I would have shook my head, but he held me still. My lips flapped uselessly for a second and I looked everywhere but his face.

“... The emissaries are from the human court.” I told him, and knew more than a little of my distress leaked into my tone. I swallowed hard and clenched my jaw. I looked down, trying to shake my head again but captured by his strong hands. “... They didn’t send word… Something… Something must be wrong-”

“Ok. It’s ok.” He ran his thumbs under my eyes, and I finally dared to look up at him. The sight of his scarlet eyes, warm and comforting, soothed me, and I managed to take a shuddering breath. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Ok? We’ll be alright.”

I was beginning to shake in my rising panic. “... Do you think... What if something… “ My voice broke again. My lips moved, trying to find the words I didn’t have the strength to speak.

Grier rested his forehead against mine, and I felt his breath splash against my cheeks. “Morgana is fine.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to swallow my heart before it choked me. “I’m sure of it. Everything will be fine.”

“I should have kept her with me.” I snapped, anger mixing with my fear. “I should have brought her here, damn that bloody…” I stopped, letting out a sharp breath. “I swear… if anything happened to her…”

He shook his head. “We’ll bring her here.” He promised. “We’ll keep her safe. But this may not be about her.” He rubbed his palm gently against my jaw. “Let’s see why they are here. Then we’ll go from there, ok?”

I hesitated, then nodded slowly. Feeling my panic begin to subside. “Y-you’re right… I’m sorry I-I-”

“Don’t apologize.” He ordered, sitting back on his ankles. “I’m here for you. In whatever capacity you need me.” A teasing smile split his lips. “Even if it is too damn early.”

I was too anxious to laugh, but felt a little better for his words. I jumped at the light knock at the door. “That’ll be Seoc; I sent for some fresh clothes.”

Grier nodded. “Let me get dressed too. Then we’ll go see what they want.”

I returned his nod, composing myself and striding quickly over to the door. Within the half hour, we were both dressed and following Seoc down to the lower levels. I fretted with the hem of my vest, tugging it straight more than once as we moved. Impatient and anxious but carefully building up the steel mask and stiff shoulders. I noticed Grier shooting me looks out the corners of his eyes, but couldn’t bear to return one. One emotional upheaval at a time, I reasoned. I felt numb, as if I was walking through a dizzying fog, and none of this was real. Dread dug cold fingers into my spine, dragging me down.

Hibik was waiting, and opened the door ahead of us, bowing low as we passed then pulling it closed. I stiffened as the latch clunked, resisting the urge to scowl at the sight that greeted me in the small private side room off the main hall. It certainly didn’t lessen the tension in my spine.

“Sir Gareth.” I greeted him flatly as he turned to face me, a small scowl on his own face. And was for once pleased that formalities required a cold edge. “And by whose authority do you dare come unannounced-”

“By mine.” Came another voice, deep and powerful, from the second occupant of the room who had his cowl pulled low to obscure his face where he sat by the fire.

I almost took a step back, barely managing to keep my eyes from widening in surprise at the familiar voice as the man stood. He swept his hood back, revealing fair skin and neatly short-cropped gold-blonde hair set atop a squared face. His gaze flicked to Grier briefly before meeting mine. And it was my own eyes that stared back at me, or more… our father’s eyes.

“Crown Prince Valerianus...” I breathed, forgetting myself for a moment in my shock.

My older brother nodded to me tightly. “Prince Nikostratus.” His brow became dark, and he squared his shoulders, tucking his hands behind his back. “... We need to talk.”

....

UPDATE: Part eight is HERE

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pennylanefics · 4 years

Text

Soft Alphabet - Walter Hartright

a/n: so tumblr fucked me over again. i posted this an hour ago and everything but the title disappeared. yeah. fuck this app

•••

A - Affection (how do they show affection)

his words, 100%. walter can speak so eloquently and speak his mind whenever. his expressions of affection are always so sweet and loving, he uses metaphors, all that kind of stuff. after he’s done, you are so much more in love and can’t help but tear up and kiss him deeply. that’s how you show your affection for him, with kisses since you’re not as good with words as he is.

B - Balance (how do they balance you, work/school/life?)

obviously, when he’s living with your family, you two see each other every day. there is a balance between him working on your dad’s collection and him spending time with you, though, and it’s a pretty equal balance. far into your relationship, your dad finds out about you two, and thankfully, he’s super understanding and happy to know that you like someone as amazing and talented as walter. so, he gives walter days off if he’s seen that he’s worked hard, just so he can have more time to spend with you.

C - Cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling? what positions?)

he enjoys cuddles a lot. especially when you two go out to the garden. you will lean up against the gazebo, either inside or outside, and you will read whatever book you’re on and he’ll sketch out something he wants to draw; most of the time, it’s you. if you are his subject, he’ll ask you to sit in between his legs, against his chest. his sketch pad is beside him as he stares down at you. but if he doesn’t feel like drawing, he’ll lay on his back with you beside him, playing with your hair or rubbing your back.

D - Date (what was your first date?)

since he meets you while restoring your father’s paintings at your castle, your first date is simply tea in the garden. he chooses to do it on a cloudy day, so neither of you are sweating just sitting there, and you’re able to enjoy a nice cool breeze. you two sit and chat, enjoying your drinks and getting to know one another even more. walter is so sweet and kind and he flirts with you so much; he likes making you shy away and hide your smile from him, it only encourages him to tell you that he loves your smile and to not hide it.

E - Excited (how excited do they get when they see you/are with you?)

walter is SO DAMN SOFT WHEN HE SEES YOU. he blushes, he smiles softly, his eyes are filled with adoration and love and he reaches for you like a little kid. and when he pulls you close, he always nuzzles his face against yours, or in your hair. like he just wants to feel you with him and caress you because he loves you so much. the smile on his face, though? the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. it’s so bright and full of happiness.

F - Fighting (what happens when you fight)

he’s not a typically angry person, but when all the stuff with the woman in white was going on, fights broke out a lot more frequently. he was extremely stressed and overwhelmed so everything got to him. and you trying to help, was really no help. he only saw you as a threat and he would take his anger out on you. that didn’t make you too happy, and you usually got his mother to set him straight.

G - Gorgeous (pet names. what do they like to call you? what do they like to be called?)

he sticks to the sweeter nicknames. ‘honey’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘love’, ‘darling’. and he always uses the softest and cutest tone with you. he sounds so cute and innocent, even in more passionate times. he manages to make you smile every single time he uses one of these, no matter the situation and no matter the time of day. you could be half awake and he’ll call you one of those names, and you’ll shy away, hiding your face in his neck.

H - Hi (first time meeting)

he is commissioned to restore your father’s art collection, so you two meet when he is introduced. and right away, he is taken with you. he can’t help but flirt with you any chance he gets, away from your father of course, and you two spend a lot of time together, talking about his works and going through his many drawings. he’s so very sweet every day and that’s what makes you fall for him.

I - Intimacy (how romantic they are)

walter is very romantic. insanely romantic. when you two meet, he always lights candles and makes sure the room is cozy and comfortable. he also picks you roses, or any kind of flower, from any garden he can find and gives you them, sometimes putting a broken one behind your ear. he wants you to feel loved all the time, and making the room as romantic and sensual as possible is his favorite thing to do.

J - Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they react to you being jealous)

at times, he can get very jealous. though you rarely have contact with the town that much, since you are in your own little castle far from the actual city, there are times where he sees you chatting with a garden boy or a stable boy and he can’t help but feel a hint of jealousy. but then he remembers that you basically grew up with some of these people and he knows that you won’t leave him, based on what you’ve told him. but he’ll come up to you and whatever guy you’re talking with, and just wrap his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and telling you that your father needs you. that always makes the guy leave, knowing that he won’t keep his ‘employers’ daughter waiting. and every time, you smack walter’s chest for lying, but he makes up for it with kisses.

K - Kisses (where do they like to kiss you/how often?)

everywhere. if walter has the chance, he kisses all over your body. during more sexual moments, it’s something he does as foreplay. starting at your forehead, he peppers kisses all over your face, then neck and shoulders, moving down to your breasts, stomach, hips, and especially your thighs. he also loves to tease you with kisses leading up to your center, feeling you shiver under his touch. teasing you with kisses is his favorite.

L - Love (when was the first time they said i love you or realized it?)

he knows it right away. from the moment he met you, he knew you were special and important to him. but as to not creep you out, he waits to tell you until you say it. when you finally do, months into your relationship, that’s when he admits that he’s love you since the first day you met, and that he’s known in his heart from that moment you were the one. he of course makes you cry from happiness.

M - Moving in (when do you decide to move in together)

i mean, walter basically moves in with you when he comes to work for your father. so in a way, you’ve lived together since the beginning. but once he left, and you went with him, that’s when your lives together started. with the money he received from your family, and a lot more that he saved up, he bought a nice little house in the prairie, away from the town, with a nice lake and huge backyard. sure, you both are rarely there, having to travel here and there with walter when he does commissions, but when you do, it’s always a nice and relaxing time.

N - Newborn (their reaction to starting a family)

when you tell walter you’re pregnant, he is ecstatic. it’s not planned, of course, but he’s so excited to be a dad and have a family. you’re the one that’s terrified and scared, and he is so quick to assure you that things will be just fine. his mother helps agrees to help out when your baby comes, and you can’t be more thankful. he is so very loving and sweet during your pregnancy. he is constantly caressing your bump and getting you anything you need, anytime during the nine months. and when your daughter arrives, walter is even more in love and honestly the best dad around.

O - Open (how open you are with one another)

walter is very open, honestly. except for the stuff with the woman and having talks with marian. that’s what upsets you the most, that he’s not open with you about that stuff, leading you to believe that he was hiding an affair or something. after that whole incident, though, he promises to tell you things and let you in to his feelings and thoughts when they’re bothering him.

P - Photos (what kind of photos you take of them/they take of you)

since this is a time before cameras, the only way to capture something was to draw or paint. and boy did walter love doing this. you were his model all the time, even when you weren’t paying attention. he would draw you as you read in the garden, or as you lay in bed asleep. you’ve definitely modeled nude for him; it’s his personal favorite tbh.

Q - Quirks (what random habits do you have that they love or hate/vice versa)

you have a habit of biting the ends of his paint brushes while working. he started teaching you how to paint, and when you got the hang of it, you started doing it on your own, without his help. but when walter checks up on you, wherever you are, he always finds you chewing on the wooden brushes, concentrating on the canvas, trying to figure out what to do. he can’t help but smile and tease you about it; he finds it so cute and adorable.

R - Recovery (how you help them after an injury/vice versa)

he is so extremely sweet and caring when you’re injured. if you somehow hurt your ankle doing something, he orders you for bed rest, pressing a cool cloth to the area as gentle as ever as to not hurt you more. he wipes your forehead of the sweat and your cheeks of the tears you shed, and whispers that you’ll be okay. he’s just as worried as you, but he tries to stay strong for the sake of your anxieties.

S - Solution (how they resolve fights)

your way of resolving fights is to talk things out. but sometimes, walter’s not in the right headspace for that. so he cools off by drawing or painting. after a certain amount of time passes, you go into his drawing room and quietly try to fix things, and thankfully, walter is much more calm and collected, so he is able to talk things out rationally. also, lots of cuddles come afterwards.

T- Touch (when they need/want your touch, what will they do? how often?)

when he’s stressed out, he needs to be near you. any touch of your hand on him will do. you can simply hold his hand and stroke the back of it with your fingertips, or you can pull him in for a bear hug and just hold him for however long he needs. most times, it’s quick since he just needs a small reassurance and the simplest of touches is enough to make him feel better. but other times, you cuddle him for hours and talk about life and what’s stressed him out.

U - Up ( waking up with them)

mornings with walter? absolute heaven. he is so soft and sweet and looks like a literal angel. his blonde hair strewn all over the pillow, the sun shining on his face. when he opens his eyes, the sun makes his green eyes even more beautiful. the smile he has on his face when he sees you, even if you’re awake or asleep, he always smiles. he’ll also run his fingertips over your body and face, just caressing you and admiring you in the early hours or the morning.

V - Vacation (where they travel with you)

sometimes, when he has the chance, he takes you with him to the places he’s commissioned to paint. most of the time it’s castles, so you get to stay in really nice rooms and explore beautiful gardens. most of the time, you rarely see walter because you’re roaming around the property by yourself, finding nice spots to spend some alone time in. at the end of the day, you tell walter everything you saw and promise to show him what you found.

W - Wedding (how they propose/where you get married/honeymoon)

your wedding with walter is super super romantic and intimate. your parents were kind enough to allow you to have it in the garden of the castle you grew up in. walter’s proposal was laid back, there wasn’t exactly a ring or some grand gesture; he just flat out told you that he wants to marry you and spend the rest of his life with you. and you of course say yes. the wedding is in the gazebo that you two so frequently visited together, with your family, walter’s mom, and professor pesca, since he was the reason walter got the commission from your father. you don’t really take a honeymoon, since your home is away from everyone and a perfectly romantic place to spend alone.

X - X-factor (what about you captivated them?)

your love for art. being a painter, obviously this similarity is something that’s big for him. the fact that you love paintings made him fall for you more. when he showed you his personal collection, you gave compliments to each one, something different every time. that’s when he knew that you were the one for him, really. you were always so excited when he started something new and you were definitely a subject for him many many times.

Y - Yawning (how they act when they’re tired)

he gets very clingy when he’s tired. he’ll slouch against your shoulder, his hands playing with your own hand or your hair, or anything of his that he can reach. if you’re not doing something, you’ll just lay there and talk about your day, if it was spent apart. walter will close his eyes in content as he listens to your voice. sometimes, he can’t help but fall asleep sometimes; your voice soothes him and allows him to relax after a long day.

Z - Zzzz (how you fall asleep together)

walter loves falling asleep face to face. he enjoys watching you slowly close your eyes and fall into a deep sleep, so peaceful and innocent. once you’re fast asleep, though, he pulls you into his arms and cuddles with you, resting his arms around your waist. he’ll also play with your hair to relax himself, and eventually, he’s out like a light too.

#walter hartright #walter hartright imagines #walter hartright imagine #walter hartright x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #the woman in white #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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randombtsprincessa · 4 years

Text

Bold

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Kim Seokjin

Words: 4.1k

Genre/Rating: Smut/fluff (NC - 17)

Prompt: 2seok with bad boy Jin (think tattoos, motorbikes, intimidating af but rescues kittens type) and model student shy and sweet Hoseok.

Warning: Clubbing, social drinking, mentions of drunken sex, tattoed blond Jin, flirting, LGBTQ+ fic, MxM fic, bad father, bad childhood mentions, volunteering work, kissing, blowjob in a garage, unprotected oral (male receiving) [be safe folks].

A/N: The following work is a part of @ficswithluv ‘s amazing project Change With Luv. It was commissioned by the lovely Ducky ( @diedinwarofhormones ) Thank you for the commission and let’s hope the donation helps bring about some really needed reforms! It is my very first mxm fic so please be a little lenient in judgement and I kept the smut not very explicit just in case (also because I exceeded the word limit shhh) so yeah. I hope you enjoy! Please do check out the project to help bring some change to the world and art to the world!

Now, do welcome the gif that brought together the last scene of the fic!

In life, there are three sets of people who go hand in hand.

There are the people who are completely alike, do everything together, share hobbies and end up being the ‘goals’ that are usually portrayed on every hyped up couples instagram.

There are people who seem to just mesh well, go about in their personal bubbles as things either go well or not.

And then…there are the people who are nothing alike. They are poles apart, one league away from each other.

Yet, they are brought closer and closer to each other and gel together in a manner that astounds the people surrounding them.

Or so Jung Hoseok had read somewhere; in a book, maybe in his adolescence, in those past teen years that seem like a dream.

He was grown up now, in college and while he had kept on the rosy tint in his cheeks, he had shed off most of his earlier romantic notions.

After all, college was a step forward towards the future he craved desperately. And he worked hard for it, to graduate and then carry on further into a blissful, stress free life.

So, when he came in touch with the circle in which Kim Seokjin moved, well…

All those ideals and notions came back like a sucker punch.

To be very honest, a club scene where there was too much light but nothing could be seen, where a bass thumped that irritatingly made you feel like you had a second heartbeat, too many sweaty bodies that merged, collided to a rambling beat and alcohol that cost half a days’ worth income – even on a campus ground, was not to Hoseok’s taste.

However, his best friend Namjoon had dragged him out of his room this time, screaming, wailing, and crawling – for once to pry Hoseok away from those chemistry books that still had equations pounding in his cranium.

Many minutes after arriving at the party, Namjoon had disappeared.

Hoseok had no idea where; if there was someone who was more shy, nerdy or awkward than him…it was Kim Namjoon.

He hoped he was getting laid somewhere, that way he’d be much less annoyed when Hoseok inevitably left to go home.

He turned his torso around to the crowd, and although he could see absolutely nothing clearly, he tried, he really did.

He reached up, straightened onto the bar stool so he could look over the multiple heads. Most of the flashing lights glinted against his glasses, blinding him and he sighed. Slumping back, he admitted defeat, looking along the length of the bar.

Maybe he should order another drink?

It wasn’t midnight just yet. He could make it till 12 and then slip away. After all, if Namjoon was around and…not otherwise occupied, he would come over so they could both go back to the dorm.

They both had early and lengthy classes for god’s sake.

As he stretched out a hand, to attract the bartender’s attention, he saw him.

The angle the man sat at made it impossible for him to get a clear look at his face. However, it was easy to discern the hunch of his shoulders, too wide, clad in a smooth leather jacket that exploded rainbows whenever a streak of light bounced off of the man.

Deep blond hair ruffled on top of the head and he could barely make out the hints of a neck tattoo.

The bartender soon came over to take his order and after refilling the drink, Hoseok decided that he could stay a bit more, just to see what the stranger looked like maybe.

“Buddy, take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

Hoseok started, the rim of the glass jolting against his teeth at the move as the man turned his head to look at him head on, one dark eyebrow quirked.

Suffice it to say, the man was breathtaking.

The soft blond hair accentuated the poufy lips of the man, glistening wet from the alcohol. The leather jacket showed off a swimmer’s body, a silver clasp at his thin waist.

Hoseok was tempted to think that this man put his last boyfriend to shame.

“I’m sorry; I must’ve just stared at you. I was zoning out.” Hoseok excused himself.

“Don’t worry about it.” The man grinned, leaning forward so he would be audible. “You here with someone?”

“My roommate…he’s disappeared.”

The stranger nodded, taking a swig from his glass. “Yeah, that happens around here. If you wanna zone out a bit more, feel free but only cause you’re cute.”

Hoseok’s mouth fell open at the flirting, gaping like a fish as the man grinned yet again, this time feral.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it, pretty boy.”

The man was taking the final gulp, placing the glass next to Hoseok, along with a couple bills under the glass. “Buy yourself a drink from me, would you?”

Hoseok could only stare at the glass and money, still shocked at the bold advance of a complete stranger.

“Oh and hey pretty boy,”

Hoseok turned to look at the exiting male.

“Next time, I’m gonna start charging.”

He turned after that, not hindered by any of the swirling bodies in his path, leaving Hoseok to wonder if maybe he should’ve gotten the name of the man, or at least given his own.

“You’re, like, not even listening to me.” Namjoon snapped Hoseok’s attention towards himself, a pen tapping insistently against his notebook.

“Yes I am,” Hoseok immediately defended but it was too late.

Namjoon had already shoved the study materials that were strewn across the table to one side, both arms coming up to cradle his head. “Go on, purge.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, I swear.” Hoseok could hear the defensiveness in his own voice and while it was partly true, he knew he would have to cave in the face of his best friend.

“Fine…I met this guy at the club party a couple nights ago.”

Namjoon stared.

“The one you left me alone at.”

That seemed to jog his memory, causing a delicate sheen of plum to spread along his cheeks. “I said I was sorry, I mean...I saw Taehyung and he looked like –,”

“A dream, yes, I got that.” Hoseok stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the slightly…enormous crush that Namjoon harbored towards the popular junior.

“You didn’t tell me about this guy though,” Namjoon continued.

What was there to tell? Yes, he’d conversed briefly with an absolute stranger for not more than five minutes. Yes, he had never felt this wildly attracted to anyone before. At least, not so much that warranted mooning over him for more than a day. He also knew that there was a good chance that he would never run into him again.

He didn’t even know his name. There was nothing tying the both of them.

Unless he wanted to end up like Namjoon, in a puppy love with a guy he was too scared to talk to, he’d have to move on.

After all; Hoseok thought back to the sleek black lines that ran along the man’s skin, the tight leather that clung to him, smelling of liquor that was alluring in its own right; he was someone Hoseok would not usually find himself associated with.

He was probably a patented bad boy, and Hoseok well…he was model student.

“You just flaked on me again, bro.” Namjoon poked his arm.

“Sorry, so, you didn’t get laid that night then? Why didn’t you come find me?”

“I kind of did; but I don’t know if you can call it that. The chick and I both were pretty smashed and all I could think about was Taehyung’s --,”

“No thanks, I don’t need that imagery in my head.” Hoseok interrupted with a sharp flutter of his hands, raising them to cover his ears.

Namjoon broke out laughing, before shaking his head. “So, do you know anything about this mysterious man of yours?”

“No, but I do know, we have a test tomorrow, so let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Yes, he did know one thing. It was to never hold true to ideals about anything. Somehow they always got smashed to pieces.

Hoseok had been right to let go of past ideals as he grew up.

He was sitting in the café, books open as he checked the answers to his test. A smooth cream latte sat near his hand with a plate of the café bakery’s special made chocolate chip cookies. Hoseok and Namjoon being regulars meant the staff knew their preferences and it was a god send when the both of them would stumble in, bleary and hazy from their workload to a ready steaming cup and some desperately needed sugar.

He had attempted to put away thoughts of any blonde men that may have crossed his path to solely worry about how chemistry worked in anatomy and it had somewhat paid off, if only all his answers mirrored the ones in his notes.

So, when he heard that same voice, calling out from the wide open door that had haunted him for the past few days, he had to look up.

In the daylight, if possible The Stranger looked much more beautiful than what the club lights paid homage to. He was awfully tall and broad, the same leather jacket and belt still wrapped around him, only this time, he had a helmet clasped under an arm and his hair was mussed from probably being trapped under it.

Big boots thudded, as Hoseok watched the man make his way to the counter, a hard smile ready for the counter worker who clearly stuttered in talking with him, while boxing up a few things.

Must be another regular; Hoseok thought back if he had ever seen him around but glossed over him. Nothing came to mind, even as the man slid over his payment before grabbing the handles of the bag, laughing at something the barista said.

Sensing that he was about to turn about, Hoseok looked down quickly, nearly burying his face behind the book.

He prayed; eyes closed that he hadn’t been caught. While he had hoped for another sight of his stranger, Hoseok hadn’t accounted for what he would do if it did happen. All the times, he’d imagined meeting up in his daydreams, they always stopped short when it came to a response on his part.

“…hey, it’s you.”

Hoseok gulped, wondering why he wasn’t invisible as he looked up, caught in the dark gaze of The Stranger again.

“It is you. Remember me?” The man tilted his head, shifting the helmet in his arms.

“Oh…yeah, in the club, of course,” Hoseok’s voice shook, hands dropping the book to the table as he worked hard to form coherent sentences.

The man’s eyes flashed to the books, grinning with those teeth flashing. “You’re a student.”

There was no room to deny it even as Hoseok chuckled. “Yeah, what about you?”

“Oh I’m done. I just hang about now.” He lowered his voice as if admitting to a mock crime and after a deep breath, Hoseok let out a much more relaxed grin.

In the light, it was easier to tell how different they really were. He was leather-clad, motorcycle helmet laden. Hoseok was wearing a knit sweater and simple jeans and sneakers, a school bag at his feet and his books strewn about a table.

Worlds apart…

Hoseok was someone easy to approach, to talk to, while this man was obviously not someone who anyone would go to first. However, even with the dark aura that hung about him, the way he talked, to ease Hoseok up, revealed something much softer beneath him.

“Speaking of which, I need to go. I will see you around I guess.” The man said.

Your name - give him your damn name, Hobi.

“My name is Hoseok. I forgot to mention it last time.” He said quickly.

The man paused in opening the door, a quirk to his lips. “I’ll remember that.”

And he was gone, with Hoseok watching his walk to a Harley parked nearby, straddling it as he put on the helmet. The Stranger hadn’t afforded Hoseok his own name…

Maybe they were too different. And maybe Hoseok wasn’t the only one who was aware of that fact.

Even if - Hoseok thought as he stared at the boy sitting opposite him - he wasn’t the only one who knew how different their lives were, neither seemed too intent on cutting their losses just at the moment.

Hoseok hadn’t timed himself, he swore up and down that the reason he was frequenting the café more and more was the increased need for coffee and not the need to catch an elusive Seokjin, whose name he’d caught only accidentally when the barista called for his order.

However, now here they were sitting across from each other.

He was still just as intimidating at first glance, a cold tilt to his head at anyone who he didn’t favor approaching him. A light scoff followed whenever he overheard something particularly obnoxious and rough looking fingers that Hoseok couldn’t help but want to touch.

He was in too deep, he figured. His mind had compartmentalized the raging crush he harbored for the new and exciting addition to his world but he knew that amidst his straight As and glowing recommendations, Jin would not only not sit well, but also appear…unsavory.

And Hoseok absolutely, blissfully, just didn’t care.

He had had a bad childhood, Seokjin had told him. A rich father, who had abandoned his family to ‘fuck about’ as he put it, with packets of money deposited for their upkeep but Jin didn’t touch it.

His mother had paid through the money in a trust after he had graduated in business but instead of putting his degree to use, he’d started working in a garage, now partner in it.

That explained the motorcycle, Hoseok had joked while Jin had only shrugged.

“I also volunteer a lot of my free time. My mom, well, I love her but she’s got her own life now…and she puts all of my father’s money in the trust still so I don’t have to bother her about anything. I don’t think she enjoys having a reminder of my dad around anyway.”

All Hoseok could do was nod his head sadly at him.

So when Seokjin offered to show Hoseok about the volunteering he did, he jumped at the opportunity. He had a chance to see what the man really was like under the façade of the cool bravado and Hoseok could feel intrigue tingling at his fingertips.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Seokjin took him to an animal shelter first, filled with puppies with big eyes, kittens that purred and curled up under their chins, bigger dogs and cats that were soft to touch and clearly abandoned and starved for loved. There were birds too, brightly colored and some wild and a couple of pigs and horses. Each animal that Jin visited seemed to love him, curling under his touch, molding them to him.

The next place they visited was a children’s library. A large group of toddlers shrieked when they saw him, swarming up to him and begging for a story. Hoseok watched with a bemused smile for an hour as Jin made animal and vehicle noises to entertain the spellbound kids.

When finally, they visited a retirement home, it was then that Hoseok saw the brief haunted look behind Seokjin’s eyes. It was just a glance, as he wiped an old woman’s mouth as she chuckled motherly at him, the rice that clung to her chin not fazing Jin in the slightest.

“It’s like having a family of my own.” He whispered as Hoseok put a hand to his shoulder, still hesitant.

“You miss them.”

“I do, but I would rather do this than let them be burdened by my presence again.”

“Maybe, they don’t feel that way.”

Seokjin didn’t reply to that, instead standing with a lovable smile to the lady who waved goodbye. “I’ll drop you off at your dorm.” He said.

His voice scared Hoseok. There was an air of finality there, as if he knew he’d shown Hoseok much more than was necessary. More than he needed to, to a guy who he probably wouldn’t see much of in the future.

“I’m not ready to go just yet.”

Hoseok knew he sounded desperate but there was nothing he could do. He had to accept his reality.

Seokjin turned with a curious look, puzzled at the heaviness in Hoseok’s voice before smirking. “Then there’s one more place I can show you. Let’s grab some dinner first.”

“This is amazing.” Hoseok whispered, awed as Jin flicked on light switches.

When Jin had said he was going to take him to his garage, Hoseok expected something like a shed, greased and metal barred. This was, this was sleek, all black steel and huge lights swinging from the ceiling.

“I spent a good deal of dad’s money on this. Hence, why I got the partnership, I saved the place from sinking. The upscale décor brings in some solid clients so, I guess you could say my sense of style did the job.” Jin kicked at a few strewn crates, turning to throw a wink at Hoseok.

Hoseok looked down at the remnants burger in his hand, biting the piece down into his mouth so as to not answer.

He watched, surreptitiously as Jin undid the jacket, removing his arms from the leather sleeves to reveal an extremely thin white tank top that sent a swoop down Hoseok’s throat, settling somewhere in his gut.

Jin turned; pausing Hoseok’s ogling at his muscled back as he stretched out his arms over his head, a thin strip of his stomach showing.

Hoseok swallowed loudly, the bite of burger going the wrong path and he broke out in coughs.

“Hey, what…” Seokjin laughed, pulling out a water bottle from a mini fridge to pass it to the wheezing boy. “Calm down, pretty boy. I know the burger’s good but eat slowly.”

Hoseok pulled the bottle away, eyes still watering.

This was too much; here he was, Hoseok, a nice kid who tried to steer clear from all sorts of ‘trouble’ and he was here with Kim Seokjin, someone who people would say embodied trouble.

And what was he doing?

Why, all he wanted was Seokjin to ram against him on the surface of one of the cars of course.

He was worse than Namjoon.

“I think…I should go.” Hoseok stuttered, casting his eyes down. This was it, the final time he put himself in the path of such temptations. Jin would never look twice at someone like him. He was in way over his head.

“Hey pretty boy,”

Hoseok looked up at Seokjin, who now stood too close to his face, blond hair hanging in his eyes, lips pulled into his teeth.

“Tell me something, why are you so scared of me?” Jin asked.

Hoseok blinked, all previous concerns evaporating. “Wait, what…? I’m not scared of you.” He said, conviction strengthening his voice.

“Really,” Jin moved in, eyes dropping to the way Hoseok chewed on his bottom lip. “So, why do you keep pulling away? You stare at me, flirt with me, hold on to me on the bike, but when I bring you here and when we’re alone for too long you withdraw.”

Hoseok thudded back against something and Jin took advantage, lifting his hands and putting them on either side of his body, caging him in.

“I’m…I’m not scared of you.” Hoseok sighed, giving in. “I’m scared of well, my feelings, as cliché as it seems.”

“Why?” Seokjin asked smoothly.

“Because we’re so different; I mean you’re a rich kid who acts like a bad boy but is so kind and sweet under all that toughness and I’m…I’m a good sweet boy who would never - never be able to keep up with someone like you. I’m putting myself up for disappointment when you realize it too.”

Seokjin stared at Hoseok, hard and deep. He looked almost angry – dangerous...gorgeous.

“You know what I realized actually?” He asked. There was a pleasant lilt to his tone but Hoseok could feel the undercurrents of a threat to it.

He leaned in, making Hoseok press himself to the wall, his body almost vibrating from the proximity.

“I realized that you’re exactly the kind of person who can keep up with me. I realized that it doesn’t matter if we belong to different circles. I realized that I should probably kiss you right now because you might be a grade-A kid but baby, you’re fucking stupid.

Hoseok had no time to even draw a full breath. Jin had reared back and then slammed Hoseok back again. The hands that Hoseok had dreamed of touching now gripped his cheeks, Jin’s mouth fully on his, swallowing the surprised squeaks he embarrassingly let out.

Seokjin chuckled against his lips, pulling back just enough to nip at his chin. “Fuck, I should’ve done that in the club.”

Hoseok reached forward to tug Jin back, taking over the kiss this time as he delved into the older boy’s mouth, tasting the soda on his tongue.

“Not a complete good boy, then.” Jin commented, reaching back to tug off the tank.

Hoseok lounged against the wall, idly tracing over the tattoos that ran over Jin’s exquisite body. “What do they mean?” He asked as Jin tugged off Hoseok’s shirt too.

Jin paused, glancing down at his torso.

“This,” he raised his arm. “A compass to point me in the right direction,” He moved to his shoulder. “The lion to keep me strong and brave,” he smirked suddenly, grabbing Hoseok’s hand and placing it against the burning skin of his chest. “The tree keeps me kind and nurturing.”

Hoseok met Jin’s gaze, running his hand down to his belt, fiddling with the clasp.

“Wait,” Jin stopped him, shoving his hand away. “This is about you. Let me take care of you tonight.”

“What do you mean, oh,” Hoseok’s voice pitched higher as Jin fluidly sank to his knees in front of him. Deft, nimble fingers undid the buttons and zipper on his jeans, pulling the band and the underwear down to free his gorged shaft.

“Fuck,” Jin and Hoseok both let out as Jin swept his hands against the soft skin. He was hard, Hoseok marveled, hard enough to drip over Jin’s palms which he smeared back onto his skin to make the slide easier.

A loud moan escaped Hoseok’s parted lips when Jin engulfed him, first the tip and then most of his length. He jolted, head falling back as his hips pushed forward on their own volition.

Jin kept his eyes on him, a smirk straining his lips at the vulnerable stance of the lithe man. While he would usually be on the receiving end of this, there was something so sexy, so erotic about watching a man lose it over head as he throated as much as he could.

Hoseok meanwhile fumbled with his hands, alternating between fisting his own hair and tugging at Jin’s to further lower himself into the heat of his cavern. If he knew this was what he would be missing out, there would’ve been no way he would have agonized over it for this long.

Seokjin continued moving, squelching sounds echoing throughout the empty garage that sounded so wonderfully taboo, Hoseok nearly came right there. The thrill of it; the way someone could walk right in, catch them with Seokjin sucking him deep into his mouth caused his eyes to roll back.

“That’s it, pretty boy. Come for me.” Jin coaxed from below and before he could catch his breath, his throat closed up, his body hunching when Jin pulled him back, and the tip of his cock brushing the back of his throat, deeper still.

With an almost pornographic groan, Hoseok unloaded himself into Jin’s throat, his lover keeping him in till he was fully empty.

Jin pulled away from him, color flaming high in Hoseok’s cheeks at the wet sound that echoed through the near empty garage.

All he could do was fall into the surprisingly sweet kiss that Jin pressed to lips, the taste of him mingling in his own mouth. Jin handed him his shirt with an impish grin.

“Next time,” he pulled Hoseok in by the waist. “I’m going to make you pay for ‘zoning out’ in the club.”

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