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enhyupn · 3 years

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the perfect date! four

masterlist | previous | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned, jealousy, arguments + there might be grammatical and spelling errors in this 😞

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i should really make a masterlist BUT!!! okay i’ll edit this properly soon my eyes aren’t working rn since i’m on the road also it’s taking a while to get to the actual date 😩 Bit so wait for that everyone

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush @penghoons @min-arya @sunooflowerss @badroseee @cha-raena @ghjasksdk @strawr @jaypen @nanachuu @nikisboxysmile @softkons @kisshoons-main @enha-woodzies

you had felt as if your feet were about to fall off by the time you had reached the gate of your well loved home. with heavy breaths you could see the outline of a figure standing almost a meter away from you. a scowl on your face when you saw the almost semi-permanent smirk placed on jay’s face as he stood proudly in front of your home. you let an exasperated sigh out as you lean against the cold metal gate, not able to find the energy to open it up. the lack of daylight surrounding you only really added to your draining energy. you roll your eyes before fixing your school blazer into it’s proper appearance and adjusting your school bag to fit comfortably on your shoulder. you look up once again, your eyes meeting the blonde dyed boy’s eyes. a smile placed in his eyes, something that showed you that had been waiting for you.

your mind couldn’t help but remind you that this was one of the few moments where you had really taken the time to look at jay’s face. your time in middle school didn’t really give you any opportunities due to the fact you were so shy and bashful in front of the boy that you couldn’t even properly look at him. you just so barely properly spoke to him and exchanged messages to even form some sort of connection. you never really questioned until then why he had a crush on you in middle school, a time in your life where you had thought you were going to be alone forever. as much as you wanted to question him you knew you’d accidentally expose your own past crush, something you desperately didn’t want to explain.

“are you gonna greet me or are you just gonna keep staring at my face?” he teased, letting out a hearty laugh. you shook your head, not approving of his statement. you unlock your gate as you send him another glare. the wind added to the already dramatic yet heart warming scene, loose cherry blossom petals from a nearby tree flying around you almost romantically.

“i was not” you murmured as you had gotten closer to him, the sound of the grass lightly flattening as you walked over it with care. you might of even stepped on a bug in the process, none of the surrounding light exposing itself onto the lawn meaning your vision was very little. “as if i’d willingly do that”. the boy only laughed in response as you leaned against the wall, very eerily close to him. you eyes dart to the small space in between the two of you, unexplainable heat rushing to your cheeks. the boy sends you a look with his eyebrow raised, unsure what the problem was. “anyways, what was that call even for?” you manage to shift the attention back into your words.

“hmmmm” he pretended to think, the joke only causing you to snort quietly to yourself. his head suddenly twists towards you, the previous view of your sad looking garden not doing him any justice in your conversation. from your point of view, your eyes only widened in surprise when you had realised just how close your faces were together. his nose was almost touching yours and, if you wanted to, you could of even touched foreheads together. “i don’t know”.

“what do you mean i don’t know?” you move your face back, jay not noticing the small movement from your sudden bashfulness. “who calls saying i’m at your house, come home quickly before i break in without a reason?” you continue, hands flying around you as you try and theatrically explain his excuse.

“maybe i do?” jay laughed in between his words. you roll your eyes at his playfulness, a small smile forming on your lips when you looked down at your feet. as much as you wanted an explanation, hearing jay finally for the first time in years joke around with you simply just felt better.

“veeerry funny jay” you spoke breathily, leaning further against the wall of your home. you knew your parents were waiting for your arrival, probably sitting in their room asking themselves when you’ll eat your dinner. however, you weren’t entirely really sure if they knew about jay’s sudden visit outside your door. with a quick sigh out you turn to him once again, the boy only mirroring your action with a grin spread across his face. “how did you know where i live? or remembered my number?”.

“jake, for both of your answers” you seem raise an eyebrow at the mention of your best friend’s name, suspicious on what had happened between the two of them.

“you two are buddy-buddy now?” you tease, your fingers wiggling in front of his face playfully as you let a squeaky laugh out. jay lightly swatted your hands away, a low chuckle escaping him mouth as he turned away from you to look at the bland scenery in front of him.

“not exactly, we just both relate to things i guess” he replied quietly, the sound of crickets chirping and wind slightly breezing through following the sound of his voice. your lips morph into a small smile when you had listened to his words.

“that’s nice to hear” you sigh out blissfully, your head nodded in agreement while turning to the front of you too to look at the same scenery his eyes were trained on. “no more fighting then, i suppose?”.

“can’t promise that one” jay awkwardly let out, his head replaying the memory of earlier that evening. he bit his lip in guilt, feeling yet again apologetic about the whole situation. “hey i’m sorry—”

“—it’s fine” you interrupt him abruptly. you had already predicted what he was about to say, knowing jay’s personality you knew he would feel incredibly guilty about it. you knew it wasn’t either of their faults, from every way you’ve looked at the situation you understood that the two of weren’t the best with handling any sort of feelings they felt. “you two were just emotional, plus i wasn’t giving you enough attention today too”.

“give me attention?” he laughed, a growing blush scattering across his face. his brain almost blew up at your slightly affectionate comment. “why would you say it like that?”.

“oh shut up” you nudge him lightly, biting your lip in slight embarrassment when you had realised what you had said. “you know what i mean! i haven’t seen you in forever and of course you would wanna catch up with me”. you glance at him while your feet tapped slightly, “right?”.

“how cocky of you to think i missed you” jay jokingly rolled his eyes. you could tell from his playful tone that he was just teasing you, although it didn’t stop you from lightly elbowing him in the side.

it felt nice, talking so freely with the boy you’ve probably spent a good chunk of your life thinking about and as well as even missing. the brain of middle school you would of never even thought this would of happened, with you thinking then that the two of you were on two completely different levels (with jay being on the significantly higher level, even during those middle school years). you wish you could of told your younger self that those times spent silently admiring your school crush wasn’t a one sided thing as much as you had thought.

“don’t go thinking i missed you either too then!” you pout. the action setting jay’s brain into haywire, you had such an affect on him but you were the only one who couldn’t realise it.

he abruptly swivels his head forward, not wanting you to catch his embarrassing slip up. your own action caused him to clear his head completely blank, not having any snarky comebacks for your reply.

“remember the jeju day trip in middle school?” jay changed the subject, it caused you to raise an eyebrow before taking a glimpse at him.

you didn’t really understand why he had brought it up, it wasn’t anything significant. you can vaguely even remember the day, the only real memory you had of that day was your aunt dressing you up for it. she had wanted you to look your best, you can’t really thank her for anything since that whole night was truly just unmemorable.

“no” you paused to rack your brain in hopes to find anything to add to his question. “why? was there something worth remembering?”, yet another pout formed on your face from his puzzling question.

“the plane ride there?” he mentioned, trying to jog your memory in hopes to find what he was trying to say. “do you seriously not remember?” he laughs unexpectedly, his voice only sending your heart beating rapidly.

“n-no” a stutter had caught up to your words. you had no idea why he was still giving you this affect. i mean you’ve gotten over him over the course of his absence, right?

“well, remember earlier today, what i told you in front of sunghoon and jake” he rambles on, completely ignoring your embarrassed state. you glance back at him, noticing he was awkwardly playing with his fingers with tinted red ears. you smile to yourself, the boy setting your cheeks on fire with small actions that you didn’t think would even affect you.

“yeah, what about it?”

“i said i had a crush on you” he continued, his words only sending butterflies to your stomach as you tried to put on a calm smile. you only nodded silently, unable to find the correct answer to reply to him with. “on the plan ride to jeju, we sat beside each other” you watched from his side his hands ran through his hair, “you were so talkative and just so bright— happy? something like that. i remember only wanting to talk to you that whole day after we got off the plane, my friends kept teasing me about it and wouldn’t stop asking why i kept glancing at you throughout our whole trip”.

“you’ve liked me since then?” you let out; quietly questioning his comment, your hands cupping your mouth in realisation at your slight mixup of words. “i mean— you started liking me then? up until whenever you’ve stopped liking me? you get what i’m trying to say—”.

“who said i stopped liking you?”

if words could kill, his would of definitely made you drop stone cold onto the ground. you open your mouth, and without surprise nothing came out due to your speechless state of mind. did he really just— was he being serious? that’s all you could think as you blankly stared at his face, eyes slightly widening as a small smirk laced through his lips. you would of comically checked your pulse in front of him as a way to ease this tension but you were too star struck to even move an inch. what was going on?

“h-huh?” only a noise came out of your mouth, desperately yelling at yourself to just even let out a single word. jay only seemed to find humour in this situation, chuckling at your frozen state as he straightened his back. with a step forward he looked back at you, his face being illuminated by the cheap porch light in front of your door. you could only gulp at his figure, somehow looking more like a pictorial pose than a casual pose regular people would normally do.

“you heard me” with his head whipping back to the front of him. he placed both of this hands behind his head, an audible yawn coming out of his mouth to express his drowsiness. “it’s getting late isn’t it?” he had professed quite randomly, a completely different choice of topic than your original one.

“well, yeah...” you replied, your words sounding confused. if someone had asked you what the two of you had been talking about that whole evening, you wouldn’t of been able to tell them anything.

“i should get going then” he stretched his arms gently, an action now raising your eyebrow in suspicion. with your arms crossed you watched as he took a step further away from you, his figure almost disappearing in the darkness of your garden.

“you’re just not gonna explain your last sentence?” you nervously informed the boy of his previous words. the boy only continued his walk down the small pathway in front of the two of you, a laugh being heard even with the distance.

“what do you mean explain?” he taunted, finally reaching the cold metal gate you had earlier made in contact with. the creak of the gate caused you to flinch in shock, you watched as he swiftly made his way past your gate, his feet stopping as he closed it again. staring back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “the explanation’s right there”.

“but—”

“see you tomorrow y/n” he put a stop to your attempt, a small smile dancing happily upon his face as he took off on his journey home. “sweet dreams!” you could faintly hear him as he made his way deeper down your street.

“what— what was that about...” you spoke hesitantly. your words coming out quietly unable to really understand what had happened, something that was happening far too often that day. you understood what he said definitely, but at the same time what did he say? he said the explanation was there but as much as you wanted your brain to believe his words, you couldn’t allow yourself.

you stood there for a good few minutes, your brain trying to come up with reasonable answers; ones that weren’t pointing towards the conclusion that jay park could possibly like you. as in like—like romantically! there was no way you were going to let yourself believe in something as unbelievable as that. letting out a loud sigh you finally make up your mind to go inside your house, not having the energy to even try and make up an excuse to your parents on why you were arriving home so late.

with your hand on the door handle you felt a surprising quick vibration coming from your right pocket. you sweat instantly on the spot, your brain instantly scattering the word jay in the blank spaces in your mind. cautiously, you dipped your hand into your pocket, bracing yourself for a very awkward message from the blond boy.

park sunghoon (3-A) added you to “booth @ festival”

you sighed happily at the notification, until you had realised the previously mentioned boy was also in this group chat. your eyes drifted at sunghoon’s contact name, the formality of it almost begging you to change it into something more casual.

sunghoon: Meeting tomorrow at 7:30AM sharp, please be there on time.

jakey: sure! no promises though

jakey: the bus run’s on it’s own time sometimes

sunghoon: I can excuse that.

jay: why do you type so stiff

you couldn’t help but agree at jay’s off topic tease, sunghoon’s way of typing seemed very formal for a group chat with your classmates. a quiet giggle escaped your mouth as you walked into your house, “i’m home!” you informed your family as you raised your voice one step into your home.

sunghoon: What do you mean?

jay: ok nvm

y/n: i’ll be there!! see you three tmr 🤍

with your hand forcefully taking your shoes off, you lazily typed your reply with one hand with little to no attention on your screen. you felt your heart race rapidly when you realised, out of habit, you send a white heart to the group of boys. cursing to yourself you threw your shoes onto your shoe rack, the position of them awkwardly almost falling off the shelf they were on. you swiftly typed out a reply, trying to explain your small accident without further embarrassing yourself.

y/n: i didn’t mean the heart .

jay: sureee you didn’t

y/n: shut up

jakey: this is like the third time you’ve done that

y/n: STOP IT PLEASE FOR MY OWN SAKE

sunghoon: I think we should stop embarrassing Y/N.

y/n: thank you sunghoon

y/n: ummmm anyways goodnight!

you groaned loudly, knowing it was more than likely that jake and jay would tease you about it the following morning. you felt yourself dramatically falling on your bed, your face being engulfed by your bed sheets as you ran your hands through your head in frustration. the only thing stopping you from screaming your embarrassment out was the fact someone in the room beside you scolded you for making noise so late in the night.

“sorry!” you replied back, your face warm from your burst of energy. “can’t wait for tomorrow” you sarcastically whispered to yourself, bringing yourself to sit properly at the edge of your bed.

in the whole course of a day, nothing had gone to plan. first jay showing up? jake confessing to you? sunghoon (kind of) walking you home? all of this just on day one, you couldn’t even imagine what day two was going to be like.

“cannot wait!”

#prism.nw #enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #enhypen fanfiction

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writingindulgence · 3 years

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Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few.

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired.

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door.

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be.

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed.

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students.

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man.

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him.

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured.

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”,

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold.

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down.

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death.

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking.

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish.

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows.

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”.

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold.

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you.

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours.

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before.

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand.

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what.

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails.

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another.

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention.

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating.

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm.

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure.

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown.

Sheer concentration.

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity.

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression.

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain.

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene.

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes.

Would you like to experience them? Definitely.

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”.

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you.

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face.

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him.

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work.

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first.

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting.

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something.

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off.

His disagreement comes soon after.

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails.

After that, you both fall silent again.

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary.

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides.

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving.

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain.

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words.

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours.

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them.

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.”

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express.

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then,

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you.

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails.

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji.

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over.

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern.

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo.

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me?

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek.

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour.

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #I like hands duh but if i went into more detail i would get high blood pressure

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bluebellwriting · 3 years

Text

Love Me Tender Part 5

Walking down the street is harder without your own personal Radio Demon parting the crowd for you, but you make do as you near your sister’s boutique. At first you wanted to be alone, but that’s kind of hard in the most crowded place in the universe, and as you continued on your mindless walk through the Pentagram you realized that being alone might not be the best thing. What you needed right now was a hug and someone to tell you that you deserved far more than whatever Alastor could give you. You couldn’t be alone with your thoughts right now.

The neon from Molly’s sign hurts your eyes from a block away, and like moths to a flame shoppers flock towards the pink light. Molly’s Miracles is the place for those in Hell with an eclectic style and a preference for the sexy. It’s very rare that you find yourself actually stopping by for a reason other than checking in on your sister, but that excuse will have to do for now.

Just like the sign, the amount of glossy white furniture and sequined clothing forces you to blink and adjust your eyes. There aren’t too many people inside, thankfully, just a moth demon posing for her friend in a red dress with the deepest v you’ve ever seen. Not your thing, but the friends cheer and squeal at the sight of it, so Molly must know her clientele quite well.

“(Y/N)?” Molly emerges from the back, her arms full of some green, glittery fabric. She all but drops them on the checkout counter so that she can properly engulf you in a hug. It’s scary how fast she can traverse a room with all those legs, but your desperation for a proper hug is too great to be startled right now.

“I didn’t know you were coming by today!”

“I just,” you sniff, “wanted to check up on my baby sister.”

“Aww that’s so sweet!” She squeals. “But I thought you were out with a certain you-know-who? Is he here?”

You shuffle out of her arms and embrace yourself with your own.

“Who told you that?”

“Angie did. Text me this morning that you too had a little date,” she coos.

Of course Angel would find a way to blindly inform your sister about your love life. Except that it wasn’t your love life. Just life. Normal, regular, loveless life.

“He just happened to have some business to attend to at Rosie’s at the same time as me.”

“But he walked you there.”

“Molly--”

“And he didn’t have to! But he did! That is so cute!”

“It’s really not, Molly,” you grumble and move deeper into the store. You trail your fingers through the silks and tulle, pretending to be interested in something from the wracks when you and Molly know there’s only ever one article in the store at a time that you would actually wear.

“You okay, hun?” She trails you through the store.

“I’m fine, Mol. Just fine. I made a great deal today, dad will be really happy. Things are going well at the hotel.” You turn to her with a sigh, hoping with expulsion of breath you will also rid you of the sobs bubbling up in your throat.

It works for a minute.

“I’m fine. I’m doing fine.” Your voice cracks at the end and Molly rushes you again, except this time you’re also being surrounded by the moth demon and her friends who apparently can’t mind their own business.

“Oh sweetie, did he hurt you?” The moth asks.

“Men are fucking pigs!” One of her friends -- a wolf -- cries.

As these complete strangers surround you with man-hating indignation, Molly rubs your back and strokes your hair.

“I-It’s okay. It’s just a guy,” you gasp.

“That’s right, it is just a guy. You don’t need him and his nasty ass.” Another friend -- a blowfish -- says as the rest of the friends and your sister release you from their grasp but remain in a circle around you like some Sisterhood Against the Radio Demon.

Oh, if only they knew that was the man they were bad mouthing right now. Actually, you kind of wish Alastor was here right now. You’d pay money to see his reaction to the Sisterhood calling his ass “nasty.” Probably confusion, mostly.

"You know what you need,” Molly chimes in. “A new outfit!”

The friends cheer and you really wish you could just melt into the clothing racks. They’re all sweet, impossibly so, for helping out a complete stranger just because of the universal experience known as “guy problems.” But the last thing you want is to be surrounded by eyes scrutinizing your body in new clothing. Your heart feels like it’s about to implode in on itself and if one person says anything about your love handles or your back fat you are definitely going to ignite this entire city block on fire.

“Molly, that really isn’t necessary--”

“I know the perfect thing! You just head back into the changing room,” she says, making her way to a shelf of silk blouses. Your eyes dart to the door, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Molly.

“Don’t. You Dare.” Her eyes flash a brief red, so you shuffle over to the changing rooms.

---

Alastor sits in Rosie’s office, well, it’s more like he’s lying down on her chez, moaning towards the ceiling, and clutching his gift to you tightly as if it were the last piece of you he had left.

Rosie watches him from her desk, looking wholy unimpressed by this display from the all-powerful Radio Demon.

“Why did I even--”

“I don’t know, Alastor.”

“I never should have--”

“No, you shouldn’t have. As intelligent as you are, dear Alastor, you can be exceptionally dumb.”

Letting out another long whine, he grips the gift box harder and rolls over onto his side. He’s an Overlord. He should not be debasing himself like this in polite company. Or anyone’s company for that matter. But this is Rosie, who was for so long the only person in the history of human existence who he could trust with his truest emotions. But even this exhibitionary indulgence is a new milestone in their relationship, one he wasn’t even ready to take right now. He can’t help it though. Not when his heart feels like it’s being gripped and twisted between two fists. Not when his stomach has taken on this horrible, aching feeling, as if he’s being repeatedly kicked there.

The worst part is the empty feeling that has been growing deeper and wider since you left him at Rosie’s. For so long now it’s been just this nagging little spot that formed when you first met, situated in the center of his chest, reminding him that he no longer owns the piece of himself that once filled it. You do. And as long as you were with him, close to him, that hole stayed the same, was comforted by its close proximity to its missing piece. But now you were gone, and the hole has become so gaping and so hollow without you, with the thought of truly losing you forever.

“You could always go find her,” Rosie implores, shoving away the paperwork she’s fruitlessly been trying to complete.

“She said she wanted to be alone,” he moans.

“And since when were you one to respect others’ personal space?” She doesn’t get a response. He just rubs his face deeper into her chez, ruining the fabric with his blubbering. Part of her wants to relish the sight of her egotistical, maniacal, normally heartless friend reduced to a weepling in front of her. But the bigger part of her just really wants to get back to her work and Alastor’s need for validation is in direct conflict of that.

“Alastor,” she sighs, “I know she wanted to be alone, but honestly, this might be an appropriate time for you to tell her how you feel. Or at least to try and remedy the situation a tad.”

Alastor sits up, shoulders hunched.

“Really?”

“Yes, you emotionally obtuse oaf. Go! Be romantic! Be spontaneous!” Get the Hell out of my office, she wants to add.

Rosie goes over to him and all but yanks him off the chez. She places a jovial arm around his shoulders but is shoving him quickly through her store, past her girls, and outside.

“Good luck, darling!” She calls as she pushes him onto the street. He whips around, eyes briefly flashing her his radio dials but her motherly wave quickly reminds him of the task at hand.

The dials disappear but he shoots her an uncharacteristic glare before he puts on his smile. He summons a shadow to traverse the Pentagram in search of you. As his shadow wiggles off, he begins his stroll through the streets roughly in the direction you were heading.

---

Molly brings you a red silk blouse and a red and black plaid pencil skirt. They seem modest enough but you dread the way the skirt will make your curves look, the lumps and thickness it will accentuate. The blouse is nice though, if not a bit tight around the stomach, but it makes your chest look amazing. You try looking for the flared skirt you came in with, but not so mysteriously, your clothes seem to be missing. Thanks, Molly.

You have two options now. Go out into the store in front of strangers and in front of the giant windows Molly has in the front, or squeeze into the skirt, suffer through it for five minutes, and then demand your clothes back.

Once you actually have the skirt on it’s not... that bad. It digs into your waist just a tad, making your back straighten to make breathing easier. The fabric is thick, wool-like, but soft to the touch. It comes to your knees, probably the only skirt in the store that does so, and much to your surprise, it smooths out every piece of pudge even without tights. You look at yourself in the mirror and you look... lovely. Elegant, with a hint of sexy that looks good on you for once.

Peaking your head out of the room, you see Molly and the group of friends -- Ramona, Hugh, Paul, and Chandler, you’ve since learned -- eagerly eyeing the dressing rooms. They’re all sitting on the pink, crushed velvet couch Molly has set up for shoppers, their knees bouncing with anticipation.

You move your body out inch by inch, as if to step out of the room too quickly would cause your body to burst into flames. The closer you get to the main room, the hotter your body burns with embarrassment, the harsher the feeling of invisible eyes feel on you. You know that Molly won’t tease you, that she is a constant purveyor of how naturally gorgeous you are. But somewhere in the back of your head, the harsh words of your mother hammer away. You can just imagine that Ramona and Hugh and Paul and Chandler and whoever peaks through Molly’s windows will have some awful things to say. It wouldn’t be anything new, you’ve heard it all. Doesn’t mean you want to keep hearing it.

Molly spots your hair poking out of the doorway and squeals. Your “new friends” squeal in response and then it’s just a chain reaction of everyone squealing and cheering at you. You creep further into the room and Molly pushes you the rest of the way onto the fitting pedestal.

“Do a twirl!” Molly yells and the rest of them start chanting until you do, in fact, twirl on the pedestal. More squealing. Their joy and support become infectious, and slowly you pull your arms away from their place shielding your stomach.

You look head on at the three full length mirrors set up opposite the couch, you don’t shy away. You’re loving how you look in this moment, you find it impossible to fixate on the lumps and bumps anymore. It feels as though you made to look like this, still so completely you and yet as beautiful as you always wished you felt. It’s perfect now.

“Go off, girl!” Chandler yells.

“Your man is going to wish he had you back,” Hugh cheers.

“If he bothers you again you call us and we’ll all beat his ass,” Ramona says and her friends whoop in agreement.

Behind you, you can hear the jingle of the bell hanging from the door. Raising your head to stare at the door through the mirror, (e/c) eyes meet glowing red ones, wide with shock. He has a sheepish smile, not all teeth like his “going out” smile, but just as wide. He has that damn box in his hands, his claws tapping the sides.

Everything goes quiet and you might as well have been the only two people in the room. Molly ushers Ramona and her friends into the back room before the terror can fully set in and you’re grateful. You don’t really want anyone nearby for whatever is about to happen.

Once everyone is out of the line of fire, you sigh and turn to face him, willing the confidence from your little fashion show to sustain you for just a little longer.

“Alastor.”

He doesn’t say anything back, eyes still trained on you, because what is he supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry for taking you to a cesspool of women thirsting after me?’ ‘I’m sorry I’m such a tainted, wretched soul who is so undeserving of you?’ ‘I’m sorry I’m too much of a coward to tell you I love you?’ He pulls the box closer to his chest.

“You look stunning,” is all he can muster. Not horrible, probably not the best thing either, though.

“I know,” you say back, keeping your face stern.

His smile grows wider but remains sheepish, maybe even bashful, which is impossible because when has Alastor ever been bashful?

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he murmurs.

“I’m really fine, Alastor,” you lie. “You don’t have as much of an effect on people as you think.” Another lie.

“There are millions of dead souls who would beg to differ but--”

You send him the most seething glare you can muster and he pulls back. He looks back down to the gift, eyeing it as if it has all the answers, the map to getting back what’s been lost between you.

“I apologize if you were uncomfortable. That was not my intention.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you seethe. “I wasn’t anything except tired and overcome with a desire to see my sister.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he says as he starts to roam around the store while remaining a safe distance from you. In the mirror, you catch the red glint in your eyes and blink to force it away.

Words start to pour from your mouth, recklessly and unhinged, “And you don’t owe me anything. I don’t need you following me around town after I explicitly told you not to follow me. I don’t need you to “escort” me to meetings just so you can see your girl toys. I’m not an excuse, I’m not a guise. I can take care of myself, lord knows I’ve done so for decades without you.”

“I know.” You were expecting the room to burst into flames and for the sound of radio static to overwhelm you, not for him to remain smiling down at the floor, albeit with a hint of melancholy.

“You know?”

“I know.” He starts to take small steps towards you. “I know you don’t need me, you proved that today. You are more than brilliant and poised and powerful in your own right. I know that. But I’m afraid that what has happened is rather the opposite.”

He makes it to the pedestal and even with the extra inches you are barely as tall as him. But he has never seemed so small to you in this moment.

He is not a man who cowers, he does not beg, that shows weakness and he learned from a young age that you cannot afford weakness. Don’t show your neck, don’t bow your head, stand as tall as you can and bare your teeth. He can’t do that, though, not with you. What you need is openness and vulnerability from him, signs that you bring out something that no one else can.

“My dear, you do not need me,” he whispers and holds out the box to you. Somehow you tear your eyes away to focus on unraveling the bow and peel back the packing paper. There, glittering on a small slice of foam, are two necklaces: one a heart with a keyhole cut out, the other, the matching key.

Alastor dips two claws into the package and takes with him the heart-shaped lock, and to your surprise, he clasps it to his own neck.

“But I, dearly and desperately, need you.” He plucks the key from the box and holds it out to you in the palm of his hand.

“Alastor...”

“You can say no. You can throw this in my face and I won’t stop you,” he smiles sadly. “But you will always, in a way, have it. You will always have me.”

You’re not an impulsive person, not really, and not compared to your siblings and friends. Now that you think about it, you’ve never actually had an urge like that. Until now. Until the feeling of something glowing and bright moving up from the pit of your stomach, through your throat and your vessels until they reached your chest.

You surge forward, pull him down by his lapels, and kiss him. He tenses initially, and you hear the familiar pop of a radio cutting in and out, before he melts against you. One arm encircles your waist and the other goes into your hair, keeping you securely against him. The kiss itself is a little sloppy on his part, inexperienced and cautious, which makes sense considering his aversion to intimate activities. But there’s a relief in the inexperience, in knowing that you’re one of, if not the, first one to do this with him. It doesn’t go any further than passionate lip-locking, but the way he clings to you and you to him, like two cogs sliding together, is more than enough for you both.

When you pull away he chases after you and his arms tighten. He’s not quite ready for you to be any less than a few centimeters from him. You release a giddy giggle and lean your forehead against his own, noses nuzzling, heartbeats sharing. You feel cool metal against your neck and look down, spotting your half of the necklace resting against your chest.

“We should go,” you whisper.

“Mm, go where?” He asks as he begins to sway your entangled bodies back and forth.

“Somewhere far away from the eager ears of my sister.”

Alastor’s ears perk up and his eyes dart to the back room, where he can just catch a retreating shadow, presumably belonging to Molly.

“You might be right about that, dearest.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x Chubby!reader #x chubby reader #x chubby!reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #they say write the stories you want to see

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keepmeinthedark · 3 years

Text

To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter Two: You Gotta Not

Read here on A03

So Lily Evans brought a big asset to the band?

Only if you consider Remus Lupin to be a big asset, which I do.

Did Lily introduce them?

In time.

What happened in the meantime?

Before Remus joined the band there was just James, Sirius, and Frank. They lived together in this house called Maxwells house. It belonged to these twins Fabian and Gideon and they opened it up to anyone who needed a home.

And what was Remus doing? What were you doing?

I was in Germany at the time, Remus was at university. But he had been friends with Lily since they were young and even though he was staying in a student accommodation he wasn't too far away for their friendship to change in any way.

Lily and Remus had spent New Year's Eve together. One of Remus' classmates held a party which they attended and stayed until the clock struck midnight. By the time they had made it back to his accommodation, it was three in the morning. They had both slept in Remus' bed without bothering to change their clothes or even take their make-up off, which then lead to one of the worst mornings in both of their lives.

It was eight in the morning when Remus's phone went off. He groaned when he saw his twin brother's name appear on the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Re, where are you?"

"What do you mean?" he paused. "Am I supposed to be somewhere?"

He could practically feel Rom rolling his eyes. "You and Lily both promised Mum that you'd help with the fate. Remember? The fate? The one that Mum has been stressing over for weeks?"

Shit.

"Ohhh yeah, yeah I completely remember god who do you take me for? Yeah me and Lils are on our way now, well be like five minutes tops I promise." and with that, he quickly hung up.

Shit Shit Shit Shit.

"Lily come on, we have to go," Remus said quickly as he shook his best friend awake.

Lily only groaned as she lifted her head off the pillow, she watched Remus rush around the room to grab the makeup wipes and cleaned off the smudged eyeliner he still had on.

Lily didn't wait for an explanation, she just got out of the bed and found her way towards the nearest hairbrush. It wasn't until they were waiting for the bus that Lily had asked where they were going.

"My mum's thing, remember? We said we would help."

Lily didn't look like she remembered but she nodded anyway.

"How long do you think we'll be?"

Remus shrugged, "No idea. Why? Got somewhere to be?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Got a hangover to cure is more like it."

They had gotten to the fate twenty minutes later and immediately regretted not faking a sickness to get out of it.

Hope Lupin was a powerhouse and an amazing mum, she was loving and caring, and gentle. But she was a single mum who had raised three boys and was in the middle of raising another, which made her incredibly scary when she was stressed.

"There you two are!" she exclaimed when she saw Remus and Lily making their way down the field where the fate was being held. "I was about to send Petunia off after you guys, honestly why are you so late?"

Remus panicked, "Headache," he said.

Hope placed her hands to her hips and raised an eyebrow, "Is headache code for a hangover?"

They both nodded.

Hope sighed, "There's coke, bananas, and water in that tent over there. Go and tip half of the water out of a bottle, fill the rest with coke, drink that, and eat a banana. I don't have time for this." she told them, quickly adding, "Its a hangover remedy," after seeing their confused faces.

"Where was this remedy all the other times we've been hungover?" Lily asked, acting offended.

Hope shrugged, "You never asked."

"Still could've been useful."

"How am I supposed to know that you're hungover if you never tell me!?" Hope exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and turning her back on them in order to do other things.

"You're Mum!" Remus yelled back. "You know everything!"

"Two minutes! Get a move on!" was all that Hope yelled back.

As Hope had promised the flat coke and bananas had helped their hangovers but unfortunately didn't make them any more prepared for the long day ahead of them. Remus' parents had divorced three years ago when Lyall had admitted that he had fallen for someone else. Remus doubts that his parents have ever been in love. They had his older brother, Lycus when they were in their twenties and before they were married. They did get married not long after he was born and three years after that they had Romulus and Remus, the twins also weren't planned. Neither was Macca, Remus' younger brother who was only 2 years old at the time of the divorce.

His father's new girlfriend didn't last very long and got intimidated by the fact that he had four sons. Romulus has always said that he was certain that there was no girl, to begin with, they had never met her and their dad wasn't exactly someone who had luck when it came to romance. Romulus swears that he made her up to use as an excuse to get a divorce. Lycus believes him. Remus doesn't.

Hope and Lyall still remained close friends and the boys are allowed to stay with either one of them as much as they like, but they spend the majority of their time with Hope, or at least Lycus, Romulus, and Remus do. Macca, who is now five, spends Monday to Thursday with Hope and Friday to Sunday with Lyall in hopes that he will grow up to have a close relationship with both parents.

Remus had nothing against his father, he was a good dad and never failed to make Remus feel loved. But he wasn't yet out to his dad yet and wasn't sure if it would go well if he did come out to him. He likes to think that his dad would try to be supportive but still doesn't want anything to change between them. Not only that but he preferred his mum's cooking.

Lyall worked as a teacher for a primary school near where he lived and Hope owned her own florist in town but would always pop into the other shops there to see if they needed any help when she had the time, which is what led to her helping out with the local coffee shops fate in order to help raise money for cancer research. This wasn't the first time Hope had dragged her children out of their usual routines to stand in a field in the middle of winter and most certainly won't be the last. But they always came, Remus would never admit it but he quite enjoyed these things. Hope had always wanted to help with certain school and church events and Remus was proud to have a mum who was so loved in the community, even if she was scary when she got into her boss mode.

By the time Remus had finished their drinks and properly woke up, there was already a crowd of people going around each stall, Remus had seen Romulus surrounded by little kids. He called them over when he saw them.

"Remus! Lily! You two are captains get over here!"

"Oh bloody hell," Remus said under his breath, noticing the football that he had in his hands.

Sirius felt like his figures were going to fall off. It was January 1st, who set up an outdoor event on January 1st.

They had only just got there and he already wanted to desperately go home, he didn't dream his parents irrelevant and leave his whole family behind at the age of 22 just to play in the freezing cold, but James had insisted that this would be worth it and he seemed so excited for every gig Sirius could never say no.

It was during their first set that Sirius had seen her.

She had been all that James had talked about since their gig at the pub on Christmas eve, he could recite her description by memory.

Dark red hair that reached her chest.

Emerald green eyes.

Plus size

A smile that glows.

Exactly a head smaller than James.

Two piercings in her ear lobe and one in her cartilage.

A tattoo of a small tattoo of a wolf behind her ear.

And she was wearing white Doc Martens.

Yep, that was her. It had to be, she ticked every box (apart from the tattoo as she was too far away for Sirius to get a proper look. But she looked like a girl that would have one.)

Sirius' heart leaped. James was going to be so excited, all he could talk about throughout Christmas was how much he regretted not asking for her Instagram. He had to tell him.

He was going to tell him.

He had it all planned. He was going to give James that smile that only James got, the one that said "I know something you don't know," James always got so excited at good news.

Then he was going to ask James once more how Lily Evans looked, and James would go on a ramble, giving out as much information about this girl that he could remember. Then he would spin James around and point her out and knowing James he would probably scream. Sirius couldn't wait, he was a hopeless romantic after all.

As they went through each song he couldn't take his eyes off her, he had to make sure that he knew where she was when he told James. And he was going to tell him, he was certain of it.

That is, he was certain of it until he saw him.

Now that's a sight that he will never be able to get out of his head.

Short blond curly hair.

Tall.

Thin, yet still had a bit of muscle.

Crooked nose.

Amber eyes.

And a large scar going across his face, from his right eye down through his nose and ending just before his lips.

God his lips!

As they played on Sirius began to notice more and more about this mystery boy. He seemed to be friendly with Lily, they were playing football with a group of kids and it was obvious that he was pretending to not be good for their sake. There was another boy with them who had similar features. Must be a brother, Sirius thought.

The boy was dressed in a Queen t-shirt, a white one with a long-sleeved black shirt underneath, and his jeans were ripped. He wore eyeliner, his nails were painted black and he had multiple rings on his figures.

Sirius had never been more turned on until he saw him take a five-minute break to smoke a cigarette.

Sirius could never date a smoker. James was enough trouble, Sirius had lost count on how many times he had told him that he ought to quit but he never listens. Smoking kills everyone knows this so why did some people think that by some miracle they could be the exception.

Sirius was about to give it all up then and there, make his eyes go back to following Lily around, or maybe even have his brain focus on what he was actually supposed to be going. But once the boy had put out his cigarette and rejoined the group of kids one of them had fallen over and hurt their knee. The boy crouched down to their level and talked to the boy until he laughed while Lily got a wet paper towel and a plaster.

Damit, Sirius thought. Why do guys with kids always have to be so damn attractive?

For the rest of their set, the only thing Sirius could see was him.

He had forgotten all about Lily Evans until they had finished. When they had gotten off the stage James had been bouncing up and down. His smile was the widest he had ever seen it.

"It's her," he said quickly.

"Whos her?" Frank asked, looking at the crowd confused.

"Her, her. That girl I met a the pub last week. She's here."

"Go talk to her then." And while you're at it get me her mate's number?

James began to pale, "I can't just go up and talk to her," he told them shaking his head. "What if she hates me?"

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Why would she hate you, I thought you hit it off?"

"We did!"

"So go talk to her!"

James looked at Lily and then back at Sirius and Frank. He had now started picking at his figure nails, slowly picking one off and throwing it onto the ground.

"What do I say?" He asked, desperately.

Frank seemed very confident. "Mate, you've just played for the entire day she surly noticed that it was you at one point. She's probably begging for you to go and talk to her."

James looked confused, "Then why hasn't she come up to me?" His eyes suddenly widened. "What if she really isn't interested? I mean I know I didn't ask for her Snapchat or anything but she didn't ask for mine either!" he said in one breath. Sirius was sure he may faint if he thought anymore.

Both James and Sirius looked at Frank who rolled his eyes. "She's the girl. You're supposed to be the one to ask her out and make the first move. Most girls are scared to ask out guys cause guys suck." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "Just take a deep breath, channel your confidence, and swipe her off her feet. You've got this."

James took a breath and nodded before making his way towards Lily who was having a conversation with a much taller boy. He looked a bit like Sirius' mystery boy but older, taller, and with darker hair and no scar. Maybe another brother.

Sirius and Frank both watched James approached Lily in silence. They watched him ask to talk to her, Sirius didn't miss the smile that appeared across her face. Unfortunately said smile began to slowly disappear once James began talking and before anyone could realize that this was indeed a bad idea, Lily had slapped James across the face and had begun to walk in the other direction.

James all but stomped back towards Sirius and Frank, his glasses had fallen to the tip of his nose and his face had gone nearly bright red, though Sirius couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.

He mumbled a "Let's go" and grabbed all of his belongings before making his way towards the van. All Sirius and Frank could do was stare at each other in disbelief.

"This is why we don't leave him alone unsupervised," Sirius mumbled.

#the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #wolfstar #jily #dorlene #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #emmeline vance

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Bedding

Medieval!Kylo x Reader (Set in the All My Stars universe)

2k ; N S F W :)

--------

You are radiant, he thinks, as they disrobe you. Your ladies in waiting slide an outer robe of velvet away from your shoulders, leaving you in only your smock and veil – for now that you are a wedded woman, you dare not show your hair to the crowd which fills the room.

He is next, and his squires remove his fur coat in much the same manner, leaving him in a smock of his own, and you appraise him, look him up and down, smile at him with so much adoration that Kylo wishes he could marry you all over again.

As Kylo stands across from you in your bed chambers, a thrill runs through him, for this will be the first time he lays beside you as man and wife, King and Queen.

You sit atop the bed primly, properly, and Kylo follows, sitting on his side stiff as a board. He wants nothing more than to embrace you, wants nothing more than to hold you so tight, so close, so sweetly. But first you must be blessed, and then the drapes of the canopy must close, and only then can he lift the fabric from your body which conceals you to him, your body which he has seen so many times by now.

Each and every time, you are magnificent in his eyes, perhaps even more so, with each glance at your curves.

The Bishop, Lord Luke stands at the foot of the bed, crosses the air with his hand and recites some Latin. Everyone in the room bows when he finishes, the blessing over. There are nearly twenty people there, all members of your family, your friends, the royal court.

It is a privilege to be able to witness the consummation of a royal marriage, but Kylo can’t help thinking how strange it is, that they’re going to listen to the sounds of you getting fucked.

If previous experience were anything to go by, they’d be in for quite the evening.

You must be thinking the same thing, because as the squires close the drapes of the canopy, thick velvet things which block out the romantic candlelight, you give him a knowing look. Still, he can see the hint of apprehension in your eyes, and Kylo immediately frowns.

“You’re nervous.” He says, because it is not an expression he sees you wear often, not something he is familiar with, with you.

He worries, worries that perhaps you have changed your mind, perhaps you don’t want to be his wife any longer, but you only glance at the crowd, give them a lingering look even when the drapes fully close, and they all turn their backs to you, some semblance of respect.

“It’s just strange having people here.” You whisper, and Kylo’s temper flares, that they would dare make you so uncomfortable with their petty traditions.

With the drapes now closed fully, they cannot see him pull you towards him, cannot see the way his strong hands loop underneath your arms to hug you close.

“Leave us at once.” He orders, startling the crowd outside the fabric walls.

“But, but your Majesty – ” Luke begins, and there is a deathly silence as they all try to figure out what to do.

“Your Queen commands privacy.” Kylo insists, but you’re grabbing for his face in the dark, shaking your head.

“Just kiss me, I’ll be alright.” You stop him, for you know how important this ceremony is.

“Are you sure?” Kylo asks, “I will not have you do something you do not wish.”

“I am.” You reassure him, guiding his face to yours in the velvety blackness, whispering against his cheek, his chin, his lips, “Please, just kiss me.”

Kylo needs not be told again, and his big warm hands undo your veil, removing the pins and tossing them off of the bed so that you do not accidentally poke yourself throughout the night. With your hair freed, he runs his fingers through the locks, detangling it and twining it around his fingers for a moment.

Someone coughs, and you both awkwardly grimace at one another before dissolving into a fit of silent giggles, Kylo finally pulling your smock away. You give him the same treatment, and he lays you down on the downy pillows, kisses you to get you to relax for him.

And relax for him you do, as your sighs fill the enclosed space of the canopy bed while his deft fingers work in and out of you. He knows you, knows what your body likes, knows the right way to touch you to ensure you’re prepared for him.

You’re wet for him, as always, like your body seemingly never stops, never runs out of slick to coat your cunt, never not ready to take whatever he gives you. He fingers you like this only for a few moments, until you’re moaning softly, your legs fallen apart entirely. He smiles into your neck as he has to press your hips down with his other hand, for they keep rising of their own accord.

You tug on his ear, and that’s a sign that you’re ready – or at the very least, you’re impatient, and he swallows hard around the lump in his throat as he settles on top of you, withdraws his fingers and replaces them instead with his hard cock.

“Kylo -- !” You clamp a hand over your mouth in a gasp, and this time when your hips rise he lets them, for it allows him to slide in deeper, allows him to bury himself to the hilt.

The two of you fuck so often that now it takes little time for your body to adjust to his huge size, and you grin at the feeling, grin at the deviancy, for if the Church knew you had fucked before marriage, well then perhaps this wedding wouldn’t be such a joyous one.

It matters not, Kylo thinks, for it was he you fucked, and it was now he you had wed, so in the end, it all balances out.

“Pretend as though they’re not here.” He whispers in your ear, “You need not quiet yourself now, not that we are finally wed.”

With those words of encouragement, your hand drops from your mouth, and he can see the pretty ‘o’ of your lips as your jaw hangs down. He rolls his hips against yours, bodies flush together, and it drags a loud moan out of you that is sure to make the crowd uncomfortable, hot in their robes.

“Oh, yes!” You throw your head back as the roll of his hips give way to proper thrusts, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Kylo can only grunt in his own pleasure, his own eyes closed as he grabs hold of your thighs, yanks them down and around his waist so he might fuck you deeper.

You are heaven around him, the hot wet clench of your cunt on his cock has him groaning, the slap of his skin against yours has his head dizzy. All of you makes him dizzy, and he can only bury his face between your breasts, nose at the underside of your chest, can only suck dark cherry red marks into the skin there to keep himself from growling too dramatically.

But oh how he wishes to be dramatic, for you stir such feelings in him. Every time he is graced with railing your pussy he is drowned in pleasure, all of his nerves on fire, so consumed by you, by your hands on his body, your legs around him, your mouth on him. You are slippery and slick from the combination of spit and sweat, drool and pre-come, and the sounds are practically sinful.

“Kylo – harder, harder please.” You beg, moan, whine for him, and he would rather die than disobey.

He fists his hand in your hair and pulls hard, hard enough that you yelp from it, tugs your head to the side so you might bare your neck for him. He sucks hard on your throat as his powerful thighs and hips use all their strength to ram his cock into you.

He knows just where that special spot inside you is, the one that’s right along your front wall that makes you babble for him, and he finds it with ease as he shoves you up and up and up the bed, each punch into your throbbing pulsing pussy punctuated by a sharp gasp or moan.

“Oh please, right there – right there!” You encourage him, loudly, so loudly that pride fills him as you arch your back and tremble for him.

He releases your hair so that his free hand can grope one of your breasts, pinching hard at the nipple. He tugs on it, tweaks it enough for your knees to clamp down hard around him, and he can tell your orgasm is going to be creeping up on you soon.

You exchange sloppy kisses, the smack of your lips and your cries of pleasure almost drowning out the sound of his balls slapping your ass, until your moans grow higher and higher, rising in octave until you’re clawing at his back, toes curling in bliss as he licks his thumb and uses the saliva to lubricate your clit, zig-zagging his finger back and forth over it, making you come on his cock.

You always did come loudly, he thinks with a possessive pride, proud that he did that, that he was the only one who ever got to do that to you.

But he still isn’t done, and you whine as he fucks you through your orgasm, drops his head into the crook of your neck as his cock continues to split you in two. He is so far inside you that he can feel your cervix, can feel the resistance when he has filled your cunt fully, and that makes him groan, makes him grunt through gritted teeth because it’s just so good, so right, that you were made exactly to take him.

You’re oversensitive and he knows this, can tell by the way you’re squirming, gasping, pawing at his sides. You’re pliant and malleable in his hands, and he adjusts your legs, throws one over his shoulder so that he might hit at a different angle, one that hasn’t made you so raw.

Kylo shouts out a loud, “Fuck!” When he comes, hips going still against you.

He rolls his hips against yours once again, just as he had in the beginning, pushing all of his come as far into you as it will go, and though it is dark he swears he sees white, swears he sees you grinning up at him. You both take a few panting breaths, deep gulps of air as your limbs fall away from his body, completely blissed out and floaty, as if you were laying on a cloud.

But you are very much not laying on a cloud, the two of you are metaphorically brought back to earth when there is applause coming from just beyond the drapes of the canopy, and you both go bright red in the dark, having completely forgotten all about the crowd that has been eavesdropping on the entire affair.

The applause is not polite either, it is filled with wolf-whistles, and Kylo wonders how many of them are hard, how many are wet and clenching their thighs together? He himself is nearly hard again just from still being inside you.

“Well done, your Majesties.” Luke says, and he sounds impressed, very impressed, with the way the evening has gone.

Virgins did not sound this way, and the applause only makes you and Kylo grin into each other’s arms, hands covered over your mouths to try and stifle the laughs which seek to escape you.

The crowd files out in two neat lines, the members of the wedding party no doubt desperate to get themselves off. Left alone at last, Kylo rolls over onto his back and pulls you with him so you may tuck yourself against his chest, and the two of you chuckle in a post-sex glow for the rest of the night.

He is elated, as he closes his eyes, thrilled that this is only the beginning, only the first night of the rest of his life, with you beside him, his wife.

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As always tagging some medieval pals lol <3 @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @autumnlovesadam @solotriplets @driverficarchive @kylo-renne @formerly-anonhamster @thepilotanon @joannapenguin @whiskey-bumblebee @passengereve @venusianmaiden @callmehopeless @sarcasticallyhateful @ilikebritsandbands @tinyplanet-explorers @kittyofalltrades @princessofpow @softcrybabykid @inkstaineddaughter @wonderneverland562 @magikevalynn @ellie-emb

#reader inset #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo x reader #kylo/reader #medieval au #kylo ren imagine #my writing #medieval knight #knight kylo

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callumsmitchells · 4 years

Text

i can’t get over the way (you love me like you do) - chapter four

read the chapter on ao3

Ben’s sitting on the sofa, though that’s not entirely accurate of what he's actually doing. His legs are hanging over the arm of the sofa and dangling down. If Callum wasn’t sorting out takeaway leaflets that he’s had hidden away in a drawer since the day he moved in, he would probably hit his legs and tell him to sit properly. As it is, his mind is elsewhere. It's been playing on his mind all week, ever since Lola first mentioned the words 'double date'. Of course, Ben hadn't exactly helped matters much when he decided to announce that they were already planning a date - one that Callum had no idea about, and he's certain Ben didn't either, until he said it - and that Jay and Lola should join them.

“Are you actually going to help me choose films, or have you just come over early to wind me up?” Callum asks, watching as Ben makes himself comfortably at home, flicking through the television channels, all the different voices merging into one.

Ben huffs out a laugh, and spins around so that he's sitting normally, for once. "Why can't we just use Netflix, or something?" He asks, looking at the collection of DVD's that Callum's spread out across the floor. "Who still has DVD's?"

"I do!" Callum says, and yeah, he's offended. Ever since he was little, he's loved the act of collecting DVD's. "It's nice to have something physical."

Ben rolls his eyes, but there's a smile that's threatening to bubble its way across his lips. He leans over Callum, to get a closer look at the packages in front of them on the floor. His lips are next to Callum's left ear, breath hot and heavy against Callum's skin, little bumps appearing on his skin with the shiver that tingles its way down his spine. "Those." He says, not really taking much notice of what he's actually picking because he doesn't care, not really. He'll watch any film without a fuss. He leans his body even further over Callum, chest pressing against his back as he stretches out to push a couple of films to the side.

Callum nods, and takes a deep breath the second that Ben pulls away from his body. He puts the films that Ben's chosen on the coffee table, and puts the rest away, inside an ottoman next to the television. When he turns back around, he notices that Ben's resumed his first position, feet dangling over the edge of the sofa again. He doesn't have it in him to complain about it, so he just lets it happen, knowing that once Jay and Lola arrive, he will have to move because there's barely enough room for them all to sit normally.

"Ben." Callum says, speaking the name out into the abyss. "How do we show we're meant to be together? It's just watching a film together, we've done that loads before now."

Ben laughs, but it's cut short when he sees the worry on Callum's face. He's genuinely worrying about the situation, and Ben laughing probably makes it worse. "Cuddle me." He states. "Just act like you would in a proper relationship."

It's like a kick in the teeth, Ben saying that, because part of Callum wishes that this was a proper relationship.

Dusk is falling, the whole of the sky attempting to cling onto the last remnants of the sun, bright and beaming in the sky, its orange glow harsh on the eyes when looking directly at it, but it's beautiful. It's half hidden behind the buildings just opposite the window, and there's a glow on the wall inside, all orange and warm. The darkness is quickly cascading, falling closer and closer to the sky line, threatening to encapsulate the sun in its grasp in lieu of the moon. Other houses are merely silhouettes now, the trees suddenly now not their natural brown and green, but black, hidden in a shadow. It's late, but peaceful. There's somewhat of a calmness to the world, with everyone and everything suddenly slowing down. There's the odd car passing by, but slow and without the horrible burst of a revving engine. There's the odd shout of someone from across the Square, the words unsurprisingly undistinguishable considering there's a large distance between where it's coming from and where they are, but other than that - serenity.

They're all in Callum's house again. Callum, Ben, Jay and Lola. But this time, there's a striking difference. This time, Callum isn't a bundle of nerves, worrying about how clean everything looks, constantly being on edge that something he's cooking is being burnt, or it's undercooked. No. This time, he's calm. This time, all he has to worry about is keeping up the pretence that he and Ben are dating. It seems to be going well so far. There's no suspicion otherwise. It's almost shocking really, how they're managing to pull this off, especially in front of their two friends, two of the closest people to them. At least, it would be a shock if he didn't keep replaying Lola's words around in his head, thinking constantly about how she thought they had been together for weeks now. It's scary, because it's true - looking back he can see how Lola could think that, in odd moments he remembers, the occasional looks between them and how they could potentially be perceived in a romantic way.

There's pizza boxes on the table in front of them, with just scraps of leftover pizza left scattered in them now. Ben's sitting next to him, his head resting against Callum's shoulder, focusing on the film playing on the television. As much as Callum wants to get into it, because he loves nothing more than a night in front of the television, he struggles. Ben's head is a weight upon Callum, heavy and endearing. It makes his heart thump at the sheer thought of how close Ben is to him, and instead of focusing on the plot of the Robin Williams film they're watching, he can't help but focus on his breathing, trying to bring it under control and not hitch every single time that Ben moves.

Sitting next to Ben, is Lola, who is leaning into Jay on the other side of her. It's a push to get all four of them onto the sofa, but with Ben practically half on top of Callum, and Lola replicating that too, they manage to make it work so it's at least somewhat comfortable. Jay's got the popcorn sitting in his lap, being protected by him and he keeps swatting Lola's hand away each time she makes an attempt to get some. He narrows his eyes at her, and mouths mine, and Callum huffs out a quiet chuckle that only Ben is able to hear. He looks up at Callum, questioning him silently at first, wondering what he's laughing at because there wasn't a funny moment in the film just now, but then he smiles softly and moves to get even closer to Callum, if that's even possible. He rests his hand against Callum's chest, and before long, Callum can feel Ben's pointer finger tapping against his shirt lightly, to the beat of Callum's heart. He looks down at Ben, and notices that he has eyes on him. Six of them to be precise, because both Jay and Lola tear their eyes away from the screen when Ben speaks.

"I can feel your heart." He says, and Callum knows those words are meant just for him but Ben doesn't seem to have the ability of speaking quietly.

Callum smiles softly, and nudges Ben's head down, whispering out a soft, "Shut up." Ben's head is against Callum's chest now, and heat is palpable between the two of them. A laugh stumbles out of Ben's mouth, both heavy and light in equal quantities. For a moment, just for a split second, Callum thinks he can get used to this. He can grow to love having Ben being this close to him, he can grow to want Ben to be around him always. But then there's a loud sound coming from the television and it tears Callum away from those thoughts. Because this isn't reality, nor is it ever likely to be. It's just a joke, a laugh. Nothing more than that, nor is it nothing less.

Moments pass, and Callum remembers the film. He's got a vague memory in the back of his brain telling him he's seen it before, and that it should probably be finishing soon. It's their third one of the night, and probably the last. He moves his head slightly to the left, and notices that Lola is now falling asleep on Jay's shoulder, with Jay threading his fingers through her peroxide blonde hair, right from the root down to the ends, letting it fall against her shoulders in a waterfall like motion until he starts it all again. He watches, and watches and Jay doesn't even notice. He looks calm. He doesn't look like his heart is beating a million miles per hour. He just looks like this is natural, like he does this often enough for it to be normal for him. Callum's never seen it, but then again, why would he? He's never seen Lola fall asleep before. There's a warmth bubbling away inside him, realising that if Jay and Lola act like that, and they're a real couple, then Lola's definitely right, because he probably feels the same way that Jay feels around Lola, that he does around Ben. The credits start to roll, countless names on a list running down the screen, and Jay stirs. Lola's body follows his, unwittingly, and it wakes her up, though she's hardly completely conscious. Her eyes are glossing over, eyelids heavy and there's a pink tinge to her cheeks to suggest she's been asleep.

"Reckon we'll head back now lads." Jay announces, shuffling his shoes onto his feet. "Before she falls asleep on me again."

Lola's slow in her movements, but she manages to put her shoes on too, and wraps her jacket around her shoulders. Jay stands, and Lola's clinging onto him in a childlike manner, not wanting to let go.

"Callum, cheers for having us over." Jay appreciates, clasping his hand around Callum and pulling him in as best he could with Ben in the way. He pulls away, and then taps onto Ben's head, knocking his head back to have him look up at Jay. "You don't do anything I wouldn't, yeah? I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm a good boy, Jay." Ben insists, and both Jay and Callum share a look because that's hypocrisy at it's finest.

With that, they leave, Lola by his side, arms wrapping around his body.

But Ben doesn't move. He has no intention of moving. Instead, he sits even closer to Callum, one leg trapping Callum's thigh, half on top of Callum. His head is on his chest, and it's comforting. The television is silent, the film long since over and now it's merely just a black screen. Outside, the moon is hanging in the sky, stars dotting about like flecks of white paint on a black canvas. Street lamps litter the streets, illuminating the pavement below them, white orbs circling the tall lights, guiding the way home. Callum's arms are around Ben's body, holding him. It's nice. His fingers slip under Ben's shirt, only two of them, and being able to feel Ben's skin suddenly grounds him. Everything is heightened now, somehow. The late hour brings around relaxation, and Callum craves it. He knows it's nearing midnight now. He doesn't need to look at the clock to tell that, because his body clock is screaming out at him, telling him that he needs to fall asleep soon, because he's doing the early shift tomorrow morning. He's exhausted, but Ben being there makes it all worth it.

"Didn't get any popcorn." Ben whispers out into the night, his voice soft and his body rumbles with a laugh.

It nearly melts Callum, being able to feel Ben's warmth against him, feeling each individual movement from his body. "Don't think anyone did." He chuckles, voice equally as low. There's no need to be quiet, nobody is there aside from the two of them. But there's something about sharing words barely above a whisper between. It's like they've been forbidden to talk, but they're finally breaking the rules to enjoy each others' company. "Apart from Jay."

Ben laughs, and his head rolls further and further into Callum's chest. A hand rests against his thigh, and Callum runs his thumb over the material there. It's soothing, for the both of them.

Callum yawns, his body telling him that it's time now, he definitely has to pull himself back to reality and tear himself away from this perfect, small world he and Ben seem to create whenever they're together. "I'll need to go to bed soon." Callum hushes out and he wants to retract the words the second they leave his lips and drip off into the atmosphere. In an instant, it's all over. The perfection is shattered, like glass onto concrete.

Ben nods, short and sweet, and pulls himself away from Callum, freeing the both of them.

It's nice for Callum to have the ability to move freely again, but the second Ben detatches himself from Callum, it's as though he's missing half of himself.

Ben clears his throat, and stands up. "I'll just nip to the toilet and then I'll get out of your way." He says, fuck, Callum's really messed this one up.

Callum watches as Ben walks to the bathroom, the darkness hiding his body the further away he walks. He busies himself, trying to not make it obvious that he's longing after Ben, missing him when he's not near. He puts the scraps of pizza in the bin, and leaves the boxes on the side, ready to go out in the rubbish bin in the morning. There's a clatter as he puts cups in the sink and runs the water, and the noise is an unwelcome clash as his head aches suddenly, his mind racing as he regrets ever saying anything to Ben. He would rather still be sitting on the sofa, cuddling each other, even if it lasted the entire night, than spending all that time alone, regretting the fact he made Ben leave. He sighs, and walks into his bedroom, his body aching. All he wants now, is to sleep. Ben knows his way out, and he'll probably shout out that he's leaving in a couple of moments. He strips off, down to just his boxers, just as he usually would to sleep. He grabs a hold of the sheets, pushing them back to make way for him getting comfortable in the bed, and then he realises.

Ben's there.

Ben's in Callum's bed, curling in on himself under the sheets. He's sleeping already, by the looks of it, his chest expanding and then falling again with every breath. He's on his side, and Callum's overwhelmed. He can't kick him out, not when he's already sleeping. There's a soft smile growing on Callum's face, like sunflowers when they face the daylight. He crouches down and falls onto his bed. There's room enough for the both of them, so it's not too bad. It's warm, enticing, and Callum's never felt this at home in his own bed. He turns so that he's on his side, facing Ben, though all he can see is the expanse of his back and the faint hairs that are at the nape of his neck. They aren't touching, not even their legs skimming each other. Ben's like a personal radiator, heat radiating off of his body, and something in him just pulls Callum closer and closer to him - until his lips press against the dip in Ben's spine, warmth from Callum's barely open mouth on Ben's shirt. He pulls away as quickly as he presses there, regretting it instantly, but he's grateful for the fact Ben's asleep and definitely didn't feel it. He's at the edge of the bed - his own bed - trying to stay as far away from Ben as possible, a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach bubbling away, and he recognises it. No. He thinks, repressing the thought. He's my friend. That's all.

There's a silence in the room, deafening, exhausting. There's a ringing in Callum's ears, and he can feel his heart beating, to the point he's surprised he can't see it beating out of his body. And then there's a noise. A shuffle, the familiar sheets rustling under movements and Ben's facing Callum now, his eyes open and bright in the opaqueness of the room. There's a breath, and it whistles out into obscurity, far beyond Callum's reach. "I felt that." Ben whispers out, and there's a crack in his voice.

Callum turns his head, and watches as Ben visibly cringes, contorting his face in the dead of the night. There's a flush to his cheeks, and Callum can feel his cheeks burning too. "We can stop this." He says, and there's a wobble to his voice, threatening to expose him. "If that's what you want?"

He watches, and Ben's silent, staring up at the ceiling as if there's something interesting up there, and then he closes his eyes. "No." He says, and then he's turning his head so that he's facing Callum, both of them looking at each other, concentration in their eyes as they look as though they're attempting to read the others mind. Callum's about to question him, ask if he's sure, when Ben speaks once more. "I'm going to do something, but tell me if it's too much. Please?"

Callum nods, and there's the pressure of a gulp in his throat, trying desperately to escape. Ben shuffles closer to Callum, their shoulders touching, but only just. A hand presses against Callum's cheek, forcing Callum to look in Ben's direction without pulling away. Then it happens. Ben presses his lips to Callum's, soft and gentle and at the opposite end of the spectrum to their previous kisses, No, this one isn't rushed. It isn't in the heat of the moment, trying to prove something to others. This is sickly sweet, and causes tingles in Callum's fingertips and toes. Ben pulls away, and Callum instantly follows, wanting more but Ben's hand stops him in his tracks, thumb running over Callum's chin, the tip just faintly touching his bottom lip. "Was that okay?" Ben asks, and he's shy now, eyes hooded with his eyelids, not wanting to look Callum in the eye.

Callum doesn't speak, not at first. He just leans forward, invading Ben's space, begging for more. "Perfect." He whispers out as his lips touch Ben's again, and his hand makes its way to Ben's waist.

He wants more, they both do. It's obvious in the way that they touch, even more so in the way that they kiss. It's lust, tinged with something more. Ben moves, his thumb repeatedly running over Callum's cheek, and then he's lifting himself up, so that he's hovering over Callum's body, the sheets falling off of him, exposing his body. He's nervous, they both are. Callum's hands set out on their travel of Ben's body, large and hot and Ben never wants them to leave his skin. It's grounding, having Callum touch him. His thighs are at either side of Callum's waist, and he's leaning primarily on one arm, his muscles twitching under the pressure. There's a tingle to his lips, and Ben smiles, pulling back to watch Callum.

His lips are cherry red and plump, his eyes have a darker shade of blue casting over them, and his fingers are still red hot against Ben's skin, hooking under his shirt. Callum holds the cloth with his pointer finger and thumb, and pulls at it lightly, hoping that Ben takes the hint. He does, thankfully, and Ben swoops down to embrace Callum in yet another kiss, unwilling to be apart. He starts it off, lifting his shirt over his head from his shoulders, and then Callum continues, exposing Ben's body completely and throwing it onto the floor.

"Are you sure?" Callum asks, his voice low with Ben's lips against his neck, nipping at his skin.

Ben pulls back, and looks at Callum. "Course I am." He says, a smile on his face and Callum knows it's real. "Do you want to do this?" He asks, and Callum's heart beats even faster, he's sure of it.

He nods, slowly at first, and then he speaks. "More than anything."

Ben leans back down, and kisses Callum softly.

Callum's hands drop from Ben's waist to the band of his boxers, hanging low and enticing. They dip into the heat of his boxers, only his knuckles dipping into that almost forbidden area, and Ben lets out a low hiss. It's hot, and Callum has to pinch himself to believe for just one second that he is the one that has the ability to make Ben sound like that.

They've got time. There's no rush in anything they do. But this, tonight? It's perfect. For once, Callum knows that it's real. He knows that the feelings he has, are prominent in Ben too. This is for nobody but themselves, and they're going to enjoy it.

#ballum #ben x callum #ben mitchell x callum highway #ben mitchell #callum highway #myfic

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allthelovelywriting · 4 years

Text

Champagne Society

Rating: Explicit

Words: 4859

Author’s Note: Look you take Arthur to a bar then fuck him that’s it send tweet. And Arthur has a praise kink don’t @ me. And a breeding kink but we been knew. Trying something new out. 4K words of poorly written smut lets go.

cross-posted to ao3

Summary: Your smile is far more dubious, and you hope he accepts your offer: “Camp is a long way back from here. Maybe we could grab a room?”

The question is out, the intention is clear, the choice is his. Arthur has been respectful the entire time you’ve been together— though hesitantly nervous may be a better description. But you’re ready now; while you may sit among them here, you’re not like the “society gals” that need a ring on their finger to show their love. And that is what you feel. You’ve known it for a while now, even if you haven’t been with him that long.

The streets of Saint Denis weren’t empty, per say, but there was a certain feeling to the town as night rolled in. A sense of freedom, of secrets blanketed with the slight chill of later hours.

It was here you found yourself, pulling Arthur along as you got closer and closer to the saloon. It was one of the few places in the “civilized world” he felt anything close to comfortable, and after all he’d done for you today, you thought it nice to pay him back.

You told him so over a glass of whiskey, to which he smiled and said, “Figured it was ‘bout time to have a proper outing, you an’ me.”

You smiled too, leaning a bit closer to him. “It’s a nice change of pace, all in all.”

Arthur nods and drinks his whiskey. Not too much, just enough to calm down. You place your hand on his arm, just resting there. He tenses— tenses and then hates himself for it, but you move your thumb in calming circles. “It’s okay,” you remind him with the movement. “I understand.”

Casual touch isn’t something he’s used to, not something he’s explored too much. Introduced by you a few months prior, when you had toed the line of friends and something more, then reinforced a little after, when you crossed that line with a day-long fishing trip that ended with a kiss. A soft kiss, hesitant and soft, but caring.

Not unlike the one that you press against his cheek now, though this is less hesitant, more teasing. Flirting.

The richer folk of Saint Denis pay little mind to the two of you and maybe that’s the reason he feels confident enough to take the hand you haven’t moved to his lips, kissing the back of it in an imitation of a scene in the moving picture you saw that day.

You giggle at the gesture and Arthur’s blue eyes seem to shine at the sound. When you pull away and Arthur orders another drink, you look down at your lap.

The dress that adorns you is a pretty one, lace and frills and a large change of pace from your normal camp clothes. When you had mentioned, offhand, to Arthur the marvel of moving pictures being shown in the big cities, where it was far nicer than the theater in Valentine, and how you’d love to see one, you never thought you actually would. You’d almost forgotten you’d mentioned it, it’s been so long ago.

But Arthur hadn’t, and you suspected that journal of his had something to do with it. Early this morning, he had approached you, smiled bashfully, and offered a day away from camp. Before the show that evening, he’d taken you to get a new dress, then a fancy lunch, and finally the event you had waited for.

“Thank you so much for today,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. “I had so much fun. I know how much you dislike the city; it was so considerate of you to do this for me.”

You punctuate the compliment with a kind smile, knowing he’ll deny it, refuse it, but you’ll gladly give him more praise. You figure his self-doubt cannot be a bottomless pit, but it does run as deep as an ocean. Still, you’ll freely offer up as much caring as it takes until he agrees: he’s wonderful.

And it starts now, as he looks away and says something about it not being that big of a deal. You silence him with a kiss— not on the lips, but rather right below his ear, where his jaw meets his neck. The sensitive spot quiets him immediately, a large hand of his coming to rest upon yours, tightening briefly. You smile, teasing tongue there, before pulling back.

Your smile is far more dubious, and you hope he accepts your offer: “Camp is a long way back from here. Maybe we could grab a room?”

Maybe that’s what you see in Arthur’s eyes as he nods, pronounces “Sure” in that way that drags out the u into an o and distances him further from the champagne society around you.

You’re filled with something akin to giddiness— though that seems too immature— a healthy dose of arousal and, when Arthur takes your hand in his— initiates that basic contact he’d been denied so long— a deep feeling of adoration.

The stairs up to the room are cleaner than Valentine, but not as appealing as Strawberry. The room isn’t too large, but, you note with something that may actually be giddiness, the bed is.

When you turn to Arthur, you already know it’s going to be an uphill battle to get him to give himself completely to you. Not for lack of trust, no, but because the deep-rooted doubt (or hate, as you hesitate to call it— how could someone like him despise himself?) that festers in him. You can almost feel it when he reaches for you, wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. Feel it in the way he tries to distract you, get you too worked up to undress him properly and keep himself hidden from you.

But you stop that as soon as it starts. You slow the kiss into something more romantic, more caring. You trace along his jaw to his collarbones— another sensitive spot— and allow yourselves a chance to take comfort in how familiar this is.

When Arthur’s hold is more relaxed, you pull away. He looks down at you, gaze adoring but lust-filled. “You’re so beautiful,” you say. Then, quoting the earlier show, you add, “my darling.” The term of endearment had been spoken to one spouse to another, but you figured it could work well for you both too. Unlike earlier, when Arthur had mimicked the romantic action, your words held a serious kind of weight to them, one he didn’t seem to miss.

“May I?” You ask, fingers poised on the top button of his dress shirt, bought specifically for this day. You move from one course of action from another, not giving him time to deny your compliment, but still slow enough not to scare him.

“Darlin’,” he starts, voice deep in a way that sends pangs of heat downwards. “We don’t— ya don’t wanna see me.”

“Arthur,” you look straight into his eyes, make sure he’s paying attention to you, “there is nothing I’ve thought of more than how you look in these past two months. I’d love to see you, if you let me.”

He mustn’t of been expecting such an honest response. When he nods again, you brush your lips against his in a sort of thanks, then undo the first few buttons. Enough to see part of his union suit. When you’re done with that, you step back, admiring your handiwork. Arthur follows, almost instinctively, then stops.

You move your hands behind you, finding the fastening of your dress. “I’m wearing so much more than you, I’m sure it’d take double the time to get undressed.” It the truth, but only part of it. You didn’t want him becoming too uncomfortable if you undressed him too fast. It’s always been about an equal exchange with Arthur, from chores and hunting to personal lives. It’s what makes him comfortable, and you see no reason to not utilize it now.

“Need some help?” He asks, and you’re surprised but not unaccepting. You turn, moving your hair out of the way. He steps in close, warm hands staring where you left off.

“This really is a beautiful dress. You have excellent taste,” you say as the feeling of him moving down your back sends shivers up your spine. “I can’t wait to wear it again.”

“Those kinda chances don’t come to often. Not in our lives.” He sounds almost sad, apologetic, and you're quick to try and remedy that.

“You think I can’t wear this around camp? I think if I look pretty enough, Ms. Grimshaw will be too taken by my beauty to yell at me.”

He huffs a laugh behind you, and his fingers finish their work. You almost wished he hadn’t; the movement had been so intimate that it had almost let you pretend you weren’t in a temporary room, but rather a house of your own, somewhere free. But the moment’s over, and your much more taken with what is about to happen.

You turn back to Arthur. With your attention back on him, he seems more hesitant. Now that won’t do at all. You guide him to the bed, sit him down. He looks up at you, so trusting and open, that your heart melts. You’re quick to follow, move to his lap and calm him. Something familiar, again.

You’re pleasantly surprised when he reaches for you on his own accord, and you encourage it with a moan, pressed tightly against his lips. Maybe, if he were a less mature man, he would have bucked his hips up at that. Instead, his hands, one on the curve of your back and the other cupping your face, draw you closer. You oblige readily, greedily, willing to give him anything he asks. You push your hips forward, testing, and move against the growing hardness in his pants.

You do it again, then once more, relishing in the sound it pulls from the man under you. A groan, so deep you almost can’t hear it, that starts in the back of his throat and ends in yours and tells you how much this is appreciated. How much he needs this.

Your hands undo more of his shirt, and don’t stop until it’s completely undone. You pull away from him again, stoping your rocking motions. He still holds you as close as he can though. “Is this alright?”

He looks at you, and you still yourself for the denial you’re sure is coming. He says nothing, just stares at you until a big smile breaks across his face. It’s contagious. “Yeah,” he says, voice rough in a way that’s so appealing. “Yeah.”

You push the fabric off his shoulders, throwing it to the same chair your dress was moved to. You ask for permission once more as you grasp onto his belt. He gives his consent with a hushed whisper, face tucked into the right side of your neck, seemingly intent on leaving a mark. Your fumble with his pants until the red of his undergarments peaks through. When that’s done, you test the waters by pushing him back, gently. He complies readily, and you apply a bit more pressure: “Stay.” And he does stay, laying back on the bed and looking like pure sin.

Laying on his back, chest rising and falling heavily to replenish the breath that you’d taken from him. His cheeks are flushed, color high and warm on his face. His eyes, darken by pure want, look back at you when you meet them, intent and longing.

You could admire him forever, and the breath you inhale to tell him of that reminds you that your corset is uncomfortable and you are far too dressed. Still, you speak up: “You’re gorgeous.”

You stand, undoing your underthings as quickly as you can. Arthur watches you, and you let him. Let your fingers trail from your hair to the right fastenings that push up your breasts presenting yourself in a way you know must be alluring to him.

“I’ve thought about this night so much,” you tell him. “I’ve thought of the way you’d look at me, the way you’d look. My imagination could never do it justice.”

It’s true; the way his pants are pushed open just enough that the significant bulge pushes through, taunting and teasing you is better than any image you could of conjured in your head on many a lonely night.

When the ties binding your corset are set free, you breathe in deep. Your ribs thank you and you let the tight fabric fall away. All you’re left in now is a loose undershirt and the skirt that had poofed your skirt. Your hands find the waistband of it and push it down, little by little until it reaches your mid-thigh.

“Darlin’,” Arthur says from the bed. Your teasing has only been half-intentional, unused to the fastenings of the fancy dresses. But you’ve relished in the fact that he hasn’t taken his eyes off you and watches, intently, as you let gravity take the fabric away, the chamise pooling at your feet. The shirt has kept your modesty, but you could be quick to remedy that.

Could be, but choose not to be. Instead, your hands go to the pins in your hair, letting your arms wind up and pull the shirt with it, tantalizing up, up, up until you see Arthur’s hands ball into the sheets of the bed. How far could you push the teasing on this first night together? Not too much longer, you promise yourself. And Arthur too as his Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, so desperate to see all of you.

You promise him too, in a voice that’s earnest, not condescending. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good, handsome.”

Finally, your hair is free, and you take to pulling the shirt over your head. Not slow, but not hurried either. You slow just as it reaches the bottom of your breasts, just to tease that little bit more.

At last, when your last article of clothing is thrown to the floor, you climb upon him again. Kneel over him and meet him for another kiss. One so unlike any others before, more heated and begging. His hands move to where your knees are bent at his sides and, when not told to stop, moves up your thighs and traces up your curves.

You bring your hips against him again, grinding hard and fast. You’re able to brush your clit against his hard cock in a way that almost makes you wonder if you could get off just like this.

“Shit,” he hisses, hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him. This time, his hips do buck up, searching for purchase against you and, yeah, you figure you probably could. “Darl’ I can feel you.”

Your wetness coats the front of his union suit, the fabric a darker shade of maroon. Any embarrassment you would have felt is wiped away by the way Arthur looks at you, desperate out of his mind. “It’s all for you, baby.”

He curses again, some word lost in the way he goes back to the crook of your neck. It’s almost cute, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it. Instead, you force yourself to stand again, almost tempted not to when he makes an attempt to pull you back.

He seems to mind less when you start to pull down his pants. There’s no hesitation this time, no resistance. He raises his hips to help you, then sits up at your beckoning. Sitting again, he almost seems like he should be taking on the commanding role, and intimidating as he is. And then he looks at you, blue eyes almost drowned in a sea of lust that threatens to spill over and encompass you too, and you’re reminded that he wants to give up control.

You gladly take it and his union suit off of him, throwing the red fabric to the side. You guide him with a steady hand to the headboard, laying propped up by pillows. You know he’ll give as good as he gets, but you wonder what it would be like to just let him relax and take care of him.

You’ve no time to dwell on it as you move to straddle him once more. Before you continue moving upward, you take in the sight of him, just once more.

His cock exposed to you dribbles our precum in steady amounts, trickles down his thick shaft until it pools on his balls, begging to be licked. You want to, but you want him in you more. Feel him stretching you out, a perfect for you know he’ll provide. You look back at his face, still burning red.

“We still good?” You ask. He nods. Doesn’t respond more than that, so you reach forward and cup his face. “Arthur?”

“Been a while, that’s all,” he says it like it’s something to be shameful of. You tell him it’s not. “Just... don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me. Just being with you is enough.” You make sure to put emphasis on the word; it didn’t matter if it was with him here, now, or every day, when he makes you much happier than you’ve been in a long time. “I— I care about you so much.”

He smiled in a way that’s almost too sweet for the situation, then pulls you into a kiss that’s even sweeter. When you pull away you wait till he’s verbally said to continue before doing so.

You cup his face again, letting your thumb run across his lips. You wonder if he’ll get the hint or you should pull away when he opens his mouth, taking the digit between his lips. His warm tongue encompasses it, the flicks the tip slowly, once, twice, until you can imagine the same movements on your clit.

Your watch his mouth move for a second more until you decide you’ve missed his blush and move your other hand down to his cock. It’s thick, and you can’t wrap your hand around it entirely, but you pump him anyways.

Momentarily, his eyes lose focus, and you think you hear something that sounds like your name moaned around your thumb. But it’s not enough, not yet.

“Besides, your cock’s so big, I don’t think you could disappoint even if you tried.”

His eyes widen in shock, cheeks blazing a beautiful red. You smile at that and continue stroking him. A languid place that must be teasing with how hard he is, but you don’t dare go any faster, lest this night end too soon. You’re sure he would return in kind if that did happen, but you know he’d be so upset in himself.

His tongue continues, long strikes you can image elsewhere until you dip your hand a little lower, cupping his balls and feeling him up. He relaxes, eyes fluttering and it’s equal parts alluring and cute. He groans something you can’t quite understand. You free his mouth; “What was that, baby?”

“Please,” he murmurs in a way that makes it seem like the most shameful thing he’s said all night. You keep your hand in the same place, pleasuring him and relishing in the whimper he lets out.

You nod, even though he has his eyes closed. The bed creaks underneath you as you shift your weight, raising yourself over him, swallowing, then gripping him to steady him as you lowered down.

You inhale sharply as he enters you, almost too big, and Arthur holds your hips, preventing you from going any further. “Are you okay? D’ya need to stop?”

You shake your head. No. Maybe if you hadn’t been thinking about this since his first shot of whiskey, watching him swallow it down then sigh heavily, contently, and so easy to imagine in a different situation, or even earlier, when his steady hand met your waist and guided you through town— maybe then you would need more prep. But you don’t. You want to continue.

“I’m fine.” You push in further. He spears you apart in a way that would be painful, should be painful considering, but just makes you feel complete. “You feel so good. So perfect.”

He whines at your praise, fingers gripping harder, sure to leave bruises he’ll apologize for, but you love them. Love the way he loses controls for just a second, pulls you down closer. A second is all it takes for you to be sitting on him, him completely filling you up. You call his name, just to say it, to hear it in your voice that’s broken and wanting and so needy. Arthur responds in kind, calling back to you like some kind of imitation of the film earlier when the same thing had happened. In much a more pure situation, sure, but it’s because calling your lover’s name is the most natural thing there is.

You call for him again when you see his face, brow scrunched in concentration, mouth slightly agape. He looks at you, and you keep his eye and you raise your hips and fall once more. He pushes forward to kiss you as his hands help you find a rhythm.

Fast and hard seems to fulfill both of your desires. His hands drop to your ass like he’s wanted to all night and can’t find the will to resist now. He moans out shortly after you reach a hand down to find your clit.

He watches for a moment, seemingly taken with the way you please yourself, seeking your own pleasure. His chest rises and falls again, and lets out a cry of pleasure as you land particularly rough. His teeth catch his lip, seemingly embarrassed by the way he does.

“Don’t,” you gasp out. He looks up at you, charming eyes seemingly shocked by the reprimand. “I want— I’d love to hear you.”

He doesn’t hold his lip anymore, lets his breathing become audible and ragged. Sweet moans and breathy grunts come together to form something that promises his enjoyment. When he inhales sharply, you think you can make out your name. Arthur repeated it, clearer, a growl at the back of his throat.

“You feel so good,” you find yourself saying. “I always knew you’d feel so good.”

His head falls back, leaving his neck bare for you to make some marks of your own. You do happily, biting and sucking the skin you find. Arthur, maybe emboldened by this, or too gone to care, starts speaking.

“I was thinking ‘bout you too. Whenever you’d go down to the river and pull your skirt up to go in the water. Took everything I had not to take you right there.” He doesn’t stop bringing you up and down with his hands. The fast pace makes your thighs burn, unused the wide position you have to be in, but it’s worth it.

“You shouldn’t of held back,” you find yourself saying. “I did it so you would see.”

He groans at that, raising his hips to fuck further into you. “You tempt me in ways that are dangerous. Make me want things I shouldn’t.”

“Careful now,” you tease. You catch his lips again, a quick nip before you continue. “Keep talking like that and you’ll start sounding like a good man. And we both know how much you’d hate that.”

He doesn’t give you much of a response other than a huff of a laugh and a kiss that makes you think he might just love you too.

“You deserve everything I can give you,” you whisper to him, more serious. You push more of your weight on to him, making him lay back. The change of position takes the strain off your thighs and moves it to your knees, but it’s better. Arthur lays before you, face impassive but eyes begging for you to finish your thought, desperate for that validation. You give it to him tenfold. Pushing his hands flat against the bed near his head, you slide your fingers over his forearms, across his palms. Searching for something to hold onto. Until finally, your fingers are interlaced and you’re staring deeply into his eyes. Your pace has slowed, which makes him pay more attention to your words.

“You are a good man, Arthur Morgan. And so deserving of every kindness. And you’re— you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He surges forward and kisses you. Holds you against him deeply as he nears his end. One hand untangles itself from its spot at your back and moves to your front, fingers finding your clit. You both let out an appreciative sound—you, as your orgasm draws ever closer, and him, at the way your walls contract ever tighter.

His eyes flutter closed, breath ragged and you know he’s close. Right on that precipice and you so desperately want to push him over. “Arthur, my love,” you murmur, sugar-sweet. “Please cum inside me.”

And he does, hips canting upward to bury himself deep inside of you. The warm that seems to spread upwards is enough to push you over the edge too.

Your walls flutter around him, twice in natural response, a few more times intentionally to watch his shoulders cave, coming to bury his face into your neck. “Yer gon’ be the death of me, sweetheart.”

“There are worse ways to go, I suppose,” you breathe out. You allow yourself to lay like that, awkwardly half on the bed, but numb enough not to care, for just a little while longer. Long enough for Arthur to find your mouth, meet it in a kiss that was sloppy, slow, and tired.

“Meant our first time to be a bit nicer,” you said as you removed yourself from atop him. The juices that flowed from you were less attractive in your post-orgasm clarity. You grab the nearest thing you have—the undershirt that had somehow landed near the bed—to clean up. It needed to be washed anyway, and you aren’t planning on wearing it anytime soon. “There’s always next time, I suppose.”

Arthur nods. He looks different, now. More relaxed then you’ve seen him in weeks, months even. Cute enough—dare you say—to warrant you leaning over and kissing him. A soft bite to his lip for good measure.

“Next time might have to wait,” he mumbles against your mouth when you pull away, eyes still closed. “‘M not as young as you used to be, remember.”

You smile, nod. The soft linen of your shirt cleans his thick cock, tracing downwards. Your fingers brush against his skin, pushing the cloth along, gentle to be an accident if he were naive enough to believe it.

“Darlin’,” he warns, voice a low growl.

You pull away. “The morning, then.”

With both of you as clean as you’re going to get without taking a bath, you reach for the next nearest item of clothing to keep you someway decent. Arthur’s shirt. It a bit rough, not meant to be slept in, but it smells like him. You only do up a few of the middle buttons, just to tease him a little. Then you take your spot at the head of the bed, looking to your lover to join you.

“Keep acting like that,” Arthur warns, taking his spot next to you, “and we ain’t gonna make it till morning.”

You smile, welcoming him into your arms. He pulls you against him, shifts the covers around until your both warm and wrapped in each other’s arms.

And yet, you’re not content. Not yet, not with a secret on your lips, and a burden on your chest. “Arthur—“ you start, a bit breathless as you force yourself to talk with any forethought. “I love you.”

He stiffens beside you. You can feel his arms tense, his heartbeat quicken. Stays like that for a moment before he responds; “Couldn’ta been that good.”

He tries to pass it off with humor, self-deprecation, but you know what he really means. Do you mean it?

“If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. But I wanted to tell you. So you know that I really do care. And everything I said before—I meant it. I really do think you’re wonderful. Beautiful, even. And I don’t care what you’ve been through, or how bad you think you are, because I’ll love you all the same.”

Through your ramble, he’s stayed quiet. And stays quiet still as a moment passes, then another. Give and take, that’s what this relationship is built on. You’ve given—

And he tugs you closer to him, pressed you thought against him in a hug that’s so warm you know his answer before he says it. But the way his deep timber, quiet, whispered against you, but still so sincere responds, with a gruff but honest, “I love you too.”

— it lets you know he’s ready to give it back too.

The streets of Saint Denis weren’t empty; per day, but here, content with the man you loved, they might as well be.

#xr: arthur morgan #wr: arthur morgan #arthur morgan #[ tagged: my writing ]#[ mw: arthur morgan ]#nsft: arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #imagine #arthur morgan smut

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not-safe-for-bts · 4 years

Text

Terms and Conditions of Friendship {JHS}

I wish I had it in me to apologise for this disgusting smut, but I just don’t. I just... don’t. Also I wrote so much I had to split it into two halves bc tumblr hates long posts sorry

Warnings: swearing (it’s me), fuckboy!BTS, sexual tension with like all of the members, a road trip with 7 rowdy men, slight exhibitionism, teensy bit of masturbation,smallest mention of thigh riding, intentional (but not obvious) orgasm denial, Jung Hoseok being rude aF, fratboy Bangtan shenanigans as per

Summary: 13 has always been an unlucky number. Always. It’s just... written into the laws of nature at this point. So it’s no surprise that when you hit the 13th month of your - ahem - dry spell, you do the one thing you swore you’d never do.

Part 2 || Masterlist

~^*^~

Just as you think you’ve successfully made it through the hallway, a voice calls your name and you audibly sigh and turn to the owner of said voice. Jungkook has his head peering around the door from, looking at you.

“Where ya going?” He inquires.

“To the bathroom...” you trail off, hoping that he doesn’t catch on to the very obvious need in your voice.

“Why did you sneak off?”

“Because I didn’t want to interrupt you guys. Enough interrogation I need to go.”

You ignore any more words coming from his mouth, as you’re already practically sprinting to the bathroom. Fuck Min Yoongi. God, you’d like to. Why he chose on having you sit on his lap during the movie, why he had to keep flexing his fucking thigh every time he so much as shuffled, why he had to keep a grip on your waist was beyond you and now you were all riled up. Well... technically, you’d been riled up for the last nine days and you were nearing insanity. You know that it was around the time that you are ovulating, so of course your body is craving a little more than usual but... this is a lot more than usual. This is tons more than usual. And hanging out with the Bangtan Fraternity is not helping your case.

No, it never helped your case. Because all seven members are hot. Yesterday, Namjoon had appeared in the kitchen shirtless and he’s been working out for the last five months and he’s got some real nice pecs and a faint but still obvious set of abs and- you inhaled your orange juice through your nose and Taehyung had a fit. He couldn’t stop laughing and you made Namjoon smirk because that fucker knew he’d struck a cord by coming in shirtless. Way to boost his ego.

A few days before that incident, you had slept over after a party and Seokjin had been getting it on with one of the sorority girls (you think her nae was Rose or something like that) and holy shit, hearing his grunts and moans sent you into a frenzy. You’d never really had a thing for Seokjin but it was hard to face him the next morning, that’s for sure.

Right now, though, you are close to calling a male prostitute or doing something because holy shit you hadn’t had sex in thirteen whole months. Your last rendezvous had been with Jackson Wang, your then boyfriend who had promptly dumped you just two days after. Something about needing space. Clearly he needed space to fuck that stupid Taeyeon or whatever her name is. Whatever. You’re totally over it.

Except you really miss sex. You really miss sex. To the point that you’re currently on your way to the bathroom to maybe get one orgasm out of the way so that you can focus on the rest of the movie. Of course, that doesn’t happen.

“Ey, [First], hurry up, I need to pee after.”

“Hoseok, there is a bathroom upstairs.” You grit your teeth, turning your head as you near the bathroom door.

“Yeah, exactly. This one is closer. So hurry up.”

He’s in a pair of grey material shorts and a black t-shirt and somehow he looks better than models on a runway. He’s looking at you with an accusatory gaze. Why are you being so feisty?

“Wait are you going for a shit-“

“No-“ you cut him off, “I’m not!”

“Good well hurry.”

So, you slam the bathroom door shut and stand there for a moment. You stare at yourself in the mirror and mutter to yourself in an attempt to cool your ever growing body temperature. Your eyes are blown wide and there’s a rosey hue to your cheeks. You look exactly how you feel and you know at least one of the members has caught on to what’s bothering you.

As you run a hand through your hair, the door knocks.

“Come on!”

Fucking Hoseok.

You tear the door open, giving him a glare.

“You didn’t flush.” He points out with a disgusted look.

“I didn’t do anything. You put me off.” Technically it isn’t a lie. Hoseok gives you a weird look and tugs you out of the room so that he can go in. He doesn’t even shut the door properly. Disgusting.

Why are you even friends with these disgusting frat boys? You do have to wonder. Your legs are starting to shake a little. You decide to sit down in the kitchen, opting you stay away from the room full of guys for a moment. You need to catch your breath. You hear the bathroom door shut and Hoseok whistles as he makes his way back to the living room. With him gone, you could totally just go back to the bathroom...

You’re seriously debating it. It’s so tempting and Yoongi’s actions have caused a horrible burn in the pit of your stomach. Your guts are doing summersalts and your fingers are itching to relieve yourself.

You could totally-

“Oh, there you are!” A boxy grin greets you and it takes every ounce of will power to not scream.

What the hell has gotten into you? Since when were you so horned up? You seriously need to cool it.

“Yes, here I am.” You mask over the frustration in your voice and give Taehyung as much of a smile as you can.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah...” you turn your attention to the fruit bowl, turning an apple with your index finger.

“Everything doesn’t seem alright. You jumped off of Yoongi Hyung like he was hot.”

“Yoongi is hot.” You roll your eyes.

“You know what I meant.”

“Everything’s okay, Tae, I promise.” You look back up at him and give him another smile.

He takes one proper look at your face and it takes a lot to not call you out. He knows that if you wanted help, you would definitely ask and you were obviously trying to ignore your whole situation. Your lips are bruising a little from how badly you’ve been biting them, your eyes are clouded and blown wide, your cheeks are gently flushed and so if the expanse of your chest from what he can make out of the skin peeking out of your shirt. You’re horny.

You suddenly feel as though Tae is eye-fucking you and you cross your arms over your chest, awkwardly turning away from him. Both of you have grown comfortable with one another. You usually send for Tae in your times of need (aka wanting someone to platonically cuddle with) because he has expressed no romantic interest in you. There’s no chance it could ever possible happen. So, you feel comfortable with him.

But right now, seeing only just a fraction of how you’d look being completely ruined, Tae can’t help but kind of okay really want to bend you over the counter and help you out.

He clears his throat.

“Okay well... if you say so.”

You hum in response and then turn to him again.

“The movie is kinda boring so I’m gonna chill out in here instead.” You announce, voice suddenly weak.

“Okay...” he barely manages a whisper and turns away immediately.

What the fuck was that?!

Did you just get eye-fucked by Kim Taehyung?

You slip into one of the cool bar stools and immediately there’s a burning cold running up and down your exposed legs. The plastic nips into your hot flesh and you sigh.

The clock is ticking behind you and you can barely make out the sound of people outside. There’s a good 30-40ft of distance between the frat house next door and so you don’t have to worry too much about their noise. It’s mostly quiet and the sun isn’t on this side of the house. The room is still bright, though.

Another sigh leaves your lips after a moment passes. Maybe it’s the coolness of the seat, but you’re finally feeling a little better. You definitely need to invest in finding more female friends.

~^*^~

“Psst.”

You ignore it. Just ignore it. Maybe he’ll stop.

“Pssst.”

Again, you pretend not to hear, jotting down another note.

“Pssssst!” A finger jabs into your side and you finally cave, head snapping to your right.

You come face to face with some coffee coloured orbs which are a little wide and sparkling in mischief (albeit a little regret after your angry face turns to him), he’s got mousy hair and plump-ish lips and holy shit he’s kind of cute. You don’t let your face falter, though. This is the first lecture of the year and he’s already interrupting and talking?

“Could I borrow a pen?” He whispers sheepishly, “I left my pencil case back home...”

You huff, not uttering a single word to him as you open your case and practically throw a pen at him.

“Thanks...” he whispers and now he feels bad. It was a genuine mistake, though! He got a little busy with Jimin and the PlayStation and before he knew it, he had like 20 minutes to get ready and get to class and it’s a seven minute walk from the frat house to this lecture hall so he only had 13 minutes to get ready and- he kind of left his pencil case on the kitchen counter, “...I’m Jungkook by the way.”

You don’t respond. He doesn’t say anything else until the lecture ends and he’s watching you throw things into your rucksack. It’s very cliche - and trust, he knows this - but you are the first girl who’s not melted at the look of him and he kind of likes that? He likes that you haven’t given in so easily.

“I’m sorry about all that,” he begins once people start to up and leave. You turn to him.

“It’s fine. Keep the pen.”

And you’re gone.

Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about you and he feels so guilty. It was the first day! How could he forget one of the two things that are going to carry him through his university. You can’t have paper without pen! Okay, that makes no sense but, he still feels really bad. So he goes out and buys this lowkey expensive pen as an apology and he’s super early the next day. He catches you outside and tugs you away from the doors.

“I hope you don’t want another pen-“ you snap at him.

“No, listen, I just wanted to apologise for yesterday. It was totally my fault and I’m sorry for making such a bad impression of myself. Here.” Jungkook has never done the whole gift-to-a-girl thing before so he just kind of thrusts you an unwrapped box. It’s a pretty pen. A muted metallic rose gold. It also comes with refills.

Oh. That was sweet. But you immediately realise how much this must’ve cost him and you decide-

“I can’t accept this, Jungkook.” You offer politely, reaching out to give it him back.

“Please, I really want you to have it. I felt awful after you looked at me like you wanted to bite my head off.” He rubs the back of his neck, unable to look at you for a moment. You ponder. This is a really sweet gesture.

“Alright,” you sigh, “but you’re not giving me a lot of choice. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“You’re welcome...” he trails off so that you can fill in your name.

“[First]. I’m [First].” You give him a smile.

Before you know where you are, you’re being pushed through the cafeteria by Jungkook and he’s screaming out “Hyung!” And then six different guys are all staring at you. Jungkook introduces you to them, sits you down next to the one called Taehyung and takes the biggest bite you’ve ever seen out of Namjoon’s sandwich. This happens for the next few days until you start to willingly accompany Jungkook.

~^*^~

Three years have passed since then and you are now sitting in their kitchen trying not to jump the bones of the next one that walks through the door.

You think about Jungkook back then. He’s always had a little bit of a baby face, but back then he was still a little lanky so it was more obvious. He had a pretty weak build. Obviously, since then, he’s been going to the gym like twice (sometimes thrice) a day because he’s earnt the nickname muscle pig. Somehow you also know that he’s gotten stronger because he can “hold an entire girl up with ease without needing any support” (it was also the worst sex he ever had, so he’d not done it since). Great. Now you’re thinking about Jungkook holding you up and-

No. No, you are not going to think about Jungkook like that. It’s bad enough you’re sitting in here avoiding the seven of them like the plague because you know that if you have to sit on Yoongi’s lap again you’ll end up riding his thigh like your life depends on it.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Jimin’s voice rips you out of your thoughts about Yoongi’s thighs and you look up at him. He’s recently dyed his hair black and holy shit he is the epitome of sex on legs. He walks across the kitchen to grab a glass and turns to you for a minute.

“Hello? Am I talking to the wall?”

“Sorry,” you find yourself finally finding words, “bored.”

“There’s a whole Fast and Furious in the living room-“

“Yeah but it’s boring.”

“Tokyo Drift is not boring.”

“Yes it is. And the main character isn’t even hot so it’s not worth it.”

Jimin blows his teeth out at your response. Of course you wouldn’t want to watch a movie because the main character isn’t hot. He fills his glass with water and takes a swig.

“Well sorry he’s not Leonardo Di-whatever his name is.”

“First of all, rude, second of all I didn’t realise you guys missed my company so.”

“It’s nice having female company.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’re disgusting, Park.”

“Not as disgusting as the girl who blatantly tried to ride Yoongi hyung’s thigh like ten minutes ago.”

He throws the words over his shoulder as he leaves the room and your face explodes in red. Shit. Okay. You need to leave right now if you want to save face. You pray to god that only Jimin saw because you cannot emotionally handle the guys making fun of you right now. You need to go home, get your vib and go to town for a couple of hours. You’ll feel better.

You almost jump off of the stool in your anticipation to leave. Part of you wants to go and say goodbye to the boys, but you know you’ll end up coerced into staying if you do. They’ll text if they worry about you.

Your feet are moving towards the front door and you pause just before you walk past the living room. The door is wide open (typical Jimin) and there is no way they won’t spot you. Round the back it is.

Who would’ve thought you of all people would be sneaking out of the frat house?

It’s not under the same circumstances as the other girls but, you’re still sneaking out and you still kind of feel like James Bond so it totally counts. The back door (as expected) is unlocked and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that the pool is actually covered. The boys have finally taken heed after two and a half years of you giving them shit for not covering it over.

You’re so close to leaving when you realise your fatal misstep in this whole mission. Your phone. It’s still on the sofa next to Yoongi. Fuck.

Maybe if you found a way to distract the guys and lure them outside, you could just rush back in and-

“What are you doing?”

The sass in the voice alerts you to who it is immediately. You literally don’t know how to answer him bevause your standing at the side of the house, looking out at the street that’s so close but so far away, nervously biting at your cuticles.

“I’m, uh, getting some fresh air.”

“Yeah, right. You can’t just leave, [First]!” Seokjin scolds and he’s pulling you back towards the back door.

“But I’m bored!” You whine.

“You let Jungkook choose the movie.”

“Yeah but he gave me his puppy eyes and an extra mini-cookie.”

The movie apparently just finished because Hoseok, Yoongi and Namjoon are standing in the kitchen. You can hear Jungkook and Jimin squabbling in the kitchen and you’re kind of a little too embarrassed to see Tae right now. None of them pay much attention to Seokjin or yourself as he scolds you for trying to leave without saying goodbye. You apologise to him before excusing yourself to grab your phone. You pass Jungkook in the hall and he grins at you.

“Hi baby,” he blows a kiss.

“Suck it, Jeon.” You playfully scowl and make your way to your precious phone.

You clutch it up and look at your notifications. Just a couple of snaps from Hyuna. Nothing out of the ordinary. Jimin is lolling on the sofa watching you. He knows he was the only member that saw what you were doing, and Yoongi probably didn’t even realise what was happening until you’d leapt from his grasp.

“[First],” he calls out.

“Hm?” You’re trying to act nonchalant.

“What the hell was that? With Yoongi Hyung.” His voice is a whisper and you draw yourself close to him.

“You don’t think anyone else saw, do you?” For a moment your mind flashes to Hoseok. God you hope Hoseok didn’t see.

It may have been pointed out by Jimin that you have a phat (with a capital PH) crush on Hoseok. Whilst that is certainly not true, it’s also not not true. You definitely have a thing for Hoseok but it’s not a crush, per se. There’s the obvious, first, that the man is fucking gorgeous in every sense of the word. He must’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves because no one should have a jawline that sharp, or a nose that perfectly sloping and pointed. And definitely not lips like that. Plump to just the right size and form the shape of a heart whenever he smiles. Also, the rest of him, his arms (which you notice he’s been working on lately. He came back after dance practise wearing a vest and you almost creamed right there - Jimin didn’t shut up for like a week), his hands, his fluffy hair, his legs, that slab of chocolate-shaped abs that you want to run your damn tongue over-

Okay you have a thing for Hoseok. But it’s only physical. Anyone would be crazy to not crush on him. He’s gorgeous. He’s a an absolute beauty of a man and with being a dancer, you can only imagine how much stamina he has.

But he’s also the most good-hearted person you’ve ever met in your life. He laughs so loudly, he smiles so brightly and it’s all so genuine. He’s always been there for the other frat members and for you whenever you’ve needed him. He’s gotten up at 3am to console a sobbing Namjoon after his girlfriend broke up with him. He’s gone to the gym to help a small and fragile Jungkook work on his personal goals. He’s sat with you for hours helping you revise for exams. He goofs off a lot and doesn’t care woo looks, but he’s not afraid to cry in front of his frat members and you. He finds the dumbest things funny and he’s also the biggest scaredy-cat you’ve ever met and he’s just so... so Jung Hoseok. Everything about him is so inviting from his raspy laugh to his sparking eyes. He makes you feel secure in being yourself because he’s definitely not going to judge. Hell, if someone can go to all of their lectures for a day wearing just a mankini because they lost a bet to the maknaes, they’re definitely not going to judge you for dancing on the kitchen counter to a little bit of the Rolling Stones.

He, of course, is a fuckboy, yes. He brings home a lot of girls. You’ve been over at the house when you’ve heard “oh god-! Hoseok! Oh~!” and felt that pang of whatever the fuck that feeling is whenever he brings a girl home. But you’d never ever go that far with him yourself. Hoseok doesn’t want a full-time relationship. He doesn’t have the time for it. At least, that’s what he’s told you when you randomly asked why he doesn’t date. And you don’t want to be just a fling to him. You want to be able to hold his hand and show him off because he’s the best guy in the world. You want to sit on his lap while he studies and run your hands through his hair and reassure him that everything is going to be ok when he’s stressing over the smallest things. You want to go with him to Hope World (his personal studio for his Producing class) and sit on that little couch with the flower plushy and watch him tack tack tack away as he works hard. You want to go places with him and just him and have him all to yourself always. But you definitely don’t have a crush on him.

“[First] did you hear a word of what I just said?”

“Huh?”

“What the hell are you thinking about?” Jimin launches a pillow at you and you manage to catch it.

“Nothing, what were you saying?”

“I was answering your question. I was the only one that saw you trying to get yourself off on Yoongi and I’m fairly sure he didn’t even realise himself but - why the fuck were you trying to get off on Yoongi?”

Hoseok is laughing at something Yoongi has just said when he remembers that he was in the middle of texting that cute girl from the club a few nights ago. He reaches into his left pocket and then his right and finds... well nothing. Where’s his phone?

He looks around on the counter and sees only Namjoon’s phone and Seokjin’s keys and shit he must’ve left them in the living room. He can hear Taehyung upstairs listening to his classical music. He’s probably studying or jerking off. Jungkook is no longer making a ruckus in the living room so he’s guessing it’s empty.

He excuses himself from the conversation and slowly makes his way back to grab his phone. Hopefully there will be another lacy surprise waiting for him.

“[First] did you hear a word of what I just said?” Jimin’s voice is hushed and low. Clearly he doesn’t want to be heard. Hoseok stops in his tracks. He pressed his back against the wall, standing right next to the arch where the door is. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop but he also doesn’t want to interrupt.

“Huh?” The confusion in your voice is evidence that you didn’t.

“What the hell are you thinking about?” There’s a sound. A soft ‘puft’ kind of sound. It reminds him of a pillow.

“Nothing, what were you saying?” Hosoek knows you well enough that he catches the breath of a lie twisting your words. You were thinking about something.

Woah - back up. You were trying to get off on Yoongi?! During the movie?! Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat. He didn’t see you- yes he did. You were perched on Yoongi’s lap.... oh.

“Okay, look,” you sigh, defeated, “you can’t tell anyone this, alright?” Your voice lowers to a hush but Hoseok can still just about make out the words.

“Alright.” Jimin whispers.

For some reason, Hoseok feels really dirty. Maybe he shouldn’t be listening to this-

“I haven’t...” your voice trails off to a mumble.

“Huh?” It seems Jimin didn’t catch your words, either.

“I... I haven’t had...” again you trail away.

“Seriously, stop mumbling.” Jimin is growing a little irked.

“I haven’t had sex in over a year!” You hiss and Hoseok’s jaw literally drops.

“WHAT?!” Jimin leaps up and you smack your hand over his mouth. His eyes are swimming with genuine shock and your about to cry now that he’s alerted the entire street.

“Jimin!” You whine, “shut up!”

“Sorry-“ his mouth is muffled against your hand and it takes a strip of his tongue over your hand for you to pull away, “hope that didn’t turn you on more. If it’s even possible.”

“Oh shut up, Jimin.” You hiss, “it’s no big deal, obviously. It’s just getting to me a little. I’ll be alright. I just need to go home and have some... you know...” you look down at your feet. Oh god, this is awkward.

“I can always help.” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows.

“Help with what?”

You freeze up and Jimin looks like the heavens have just opened for him. His eyes light up and you’ve never seen anyone try to hold back such a huge, shit-eating grin.

Hoseok steps into the room like he wasn’t just listening to you confess you’ve experiencing the longest dry-spell of your life.

“[First] has a bit of a problem. Actually it’s a huge problem,” Jimin starts and your sending him a look of warning. But Jimin knows you’re so whipped for Hoseok so maybe if he just hints a little, he can get you some dick and some Jung dick at that, “it’s a real burning blunder. It’s a hot, hot issue, let me tell ya Hyung.”

“Park Jimin.” You warm quietly through gritted teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok’s grabbed his phone now and he’s looking between you and Jimin. You’re standing really close to one another and you instinctively step away. Hoseok wants to say that he knows what your problem is and looking at your face, he doesn’t know how it wasn’t given away much earlier. Fuck, you look hot with the need swimming in your eyes.

“Yeah. It’s a real peak of an issue, wouldnt you say? I bet it’ll be a pretty orgasmic feeling when you solve it.”

Never in your life have you considered murder. But right now? Yeah, right now you could smash Jimin’s coy smirk right into the fucking wall.

Hoseok wants to burst out laughing. He knows Jimin is teasing you and he can see the anger flooding your face. He pins that Jimin is trying to get him to catch on to your problem but he already knows. He figures he’ll have a little fun.

“Oh, by the way, [First], we’re going on a spontaneous trip tomorrow. Wanna come?” He’s smiling at you.

Oh god. Hoseok’s asking you on a trip? Technically it’s wil the others but your heart just skipped a beat and Jimin is certain that you’re going to cry out of happiness.

“I, uh, I don’t know I-“

“She’d love to!” Jimin answers for you, “you don’t have any plans whatsoever do you?”

You’re giving him such an evil eye that’s screaming ‘you know I have plans you evil fucking leprechaun-ass looking motherfucker’ and he’s giving you a look back that’s screaming ‘a date with your vibrator isn’t plans’.

“Great!” Hoseok is showing some serious enthusiasm, “you might as well stay the night, then. You have clothes here, right?” You nod in response, “cool. Well, now that I’ve got this,” he waves his phone about, “I’m gonna go jerk off or something.” He stalks out. Hoseok... jerking off... in the same house as you...

You now and swolloy a dry lump. Jimin has just sealed you in for at least another 24 hours of absolute no relief whatsoever. And now Hoseok’s gone and said that! You could kill Jimin.

So now you’re lying in the middle of Hoseok’a bed with Hoseok to your right and Jungkook to your left. Back to the Future is playing on the TV but only Jungkook is really paying any attention. It’s dark and the light illuminating from Hoseok’s phone is beginning to hurt your vision. You keep looking at his hands. They wrap around his phone easily and you wonder what he did earlier. If he did... you know. There’s a burning right at the pit of your stomach and the room is hot and you’ve got two of the hottest guys you know laying on either side of you.

Jungkook’s biceps are hard and his flesh is a little clammy and hot. His pecs are pushing against the material of his shirt and his basketball shorts leave very little to the imagination.

“Yeah but I saw it on a... rerun...” you can hear Marty McFly talking in the background but the blood is pumping through your ears.

Hoseok takes a look at you. Your face is red and you’re biting your lips. You’re drawing circles on your leg with your fingertips. Oh. You’re nervous. Hoseok turns, making a point to make a small little groan as he does so and you shift next to him. He’s facing you now but his phone is still in his hands. He’s tapping away furiously and you wonder who’s on the receiving end.

It’s most certainly a girl. It has to be. The only time Hoseok types so damn much on his phone is when he’s scolding one of the frat members for something and as Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi have gone to another frat party and Seokjin and Namjoon have already gone to bed, you know that it’s not that. You eye him, careful not to out yourself. He smirks just a little. The light from his phone illuminated his face. How are his pores so small? And his eyebrows are so neatly kept. And his lips look so soft.

His eyes snap up to you and you are fast to look away. He smirks. God, you must be going batshit crazy right now. Hoseok isn’t narcissistic. He isn’t in love with himself like other people he knows coughjincough but he knows that he’s attractive. And he knows that Jungkook is attractive, too. And he knows that you haven’t had sex in over a year. He knows how hot the room is. He knows how little you all have on. He knows how easy it would be to touch you right now bevause Jungkook is way too busy watching the move.

But then he wonders if you’d make a noise. Probably given how blown out your pupils are right now. He can practically see steam coming off of your skin. He wonders how loud you could be. Would you scream out? Would you cry? What did you like?

Great. Now he’s getting hard.

‘Way to go, asswipe.’ He thinks to himself and lies back on to his back.

The last thing he wants is to press his cock into your side. You might just combust and he likes this bed. You peer over at Hoseok as he moves and hOLY SHIT HE’S HARD. You gulp hard and Jungkook actually notices.

“I’m gonna-“

You’re quick to push up and you clamber over Jungkook. Hoseok sees a damp spot on your shorts. Fuck. He’s getting harder and now he’s alone in a bed with Jungkook. This is really fucking weird.

“Jungkook can’t you fuck off? I wanna sleep.” Hoseok rolls to face away from Jungkook, placing his phone down on the nightstand. Whatever that Sara, Stacey, Sue - whatever her fucking name is - is saying is definitely going to be nowhere near as hot as what he’s just seen between your damn legs. You’re so fucking wet - how are you staying so composed?

“Can’t I watch the rest of this?”

“No.” Hoseok grumbles, “go sleep we’re taking a long drive tomorrow.”

Jungkook huffs loduly in protest but he gets up anyway and leaves the room.

You stand in the bathroom looking at yourself in the mirror. Your chest is rising and falling and you can feel your slick between your legs. It’s like a damn pool down there. What the he’ll is wrong with you?! Hoseok and Jungkook are your friends!

A few moments pass and you don’t return. Hoseok begins to think that maybe you aren’t coming back. Maybe you don’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with him but it’s getting cooler and he doesn’t like the chill biting at his back. He pulls himself up and he is straining against his shorts. Fuck. He makes his way out into the hallway. Silence except for the whir of the fan in the bathroom. The fan automatically comes on with the light so you must be in there. He moved towards the door. Maybe you’re feeling a little sick?

Hoseok nears the door and that’s when he hears it. Even the sound of the fan can’t drown out those small whimpers. Jesus. He presses his ear against the door.

“Oh my god.” You whisper. He thanks god for not fucking with his hearing. Your breathing is growing and your whimpers are slowly growing to be whines, “fuck,” Hoseok is biting his lip as he listens. He’s sure he’s rock hard until, “Hosoek,” you gasp.

Holy mother fucking shit.

Did you just-?

His name?

wHAT?

And now he feels 10x harder and he’s sure he’s never felt this hard in his life. Not even when that hot substitute in 10th grade had her blouse pop open because her breasts were just too big to not bust it open. Fuck. Shit fuck.

But then an idea pops into his head. He likes the game. He likes the chase and he wants to see how desperate you’ll get. Even when you were with Jackson, you were still kind of reserved when it came to sex. You’ve always been that way. Maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked any of the guys yet. And Hoseok kind of doesn’t want you to now that he’s heard you. He kind of wants you all to himself.

And so he knocks.

The noises stop immediately and your heart is thundering. You were so close! Just another couple seconds and you would have easily came. You freeze. Did they hear you? The pleasure isn’t really ebbing away. It’s just sitting there in your core, waiting to snap.

“Um, [First]?” Your face flushed a deep crimson. Why Hoseok?! Did he hear you?

“Y-yeah?” You try to sound normal, like your voice isn’t cracking, like you don’t want to burst into tears because you need to come so badly.

“Everything alright?” No. Absolutely not. You want to come. You kind of want him to come in and make you come. Over his cock.

“Yeah, everything’s peachy. I’ll be out in a mo’.”

“Alright.”

He stands there. He doesn’t know what to do now. He decides he’ll go in after you and maybe try to calm himself down after that. When the door eventually cracks open, you step out. Your vest is a little twisted and he realises he’s never seen you so exposed. Your chest is bigger than he originally thought. Why do you wear such tight clothes - you’re so hot! Your legs are long and gleaming. He wonders how they’ll feel wrapped around him. Your face is deeply blushed and your lips are really swollen now. How badly have you been biting them? Your eyes are sparkling with tears - just a little but Hoseok sees them. God, how pent up are you?

You look over Hoseok and the images that were in your head aren’t subsiding. He’s rock hard against his shorts. You think that’s he thinks because it’s dark you can’t see but Jesus Chris when it’s that big it’s hard to miss. You quickly look away and Hoseok coughs before stepping into the bathroom.

Anger is one emotion flooding your veins. You just need something. Anything. You don’t know when this is going to stop because you don’t know how long the boys plan on staying wherever you’re going. You should have left your dam phone here at the house and gone a night without it. It’s not like your laptop doesn’t have a link to your phone contacts anyway. God damn.

You clamber back into Hoseok’s bed and don’t bother pulling the covers up. Hoseok is gone for a while and you don’t know what’s taking him so long. What if he heard you? What if he’s gone to sleep downstairs? Dear god. Well that’s your friendship fucked with him. Oh lord.

If only you knew. His knuckles gripping the edge of the sink, his other hand being the reason for such an intense wave of pleasure coursing his veins. Thinking of the way his name rolled off of your tongue as you gasped for breath. Did you think about his tongue, or his fingers, or his cock? God he doesn’t care. Any of them will do to make you sound like that again.

And then there’s white coating the sink and dripping down and fuck. Hoseok’s never done that to the thought of you before. Now he has to get back into bed with you and act like that didn’t just happen.

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been until he pass back into the room. You’re facing the other side of the room but fuck. Your shorts have ridden up a little, your ass is exposed - since when did you have such a nice ass? Your curves are on full display since you’re lying on your side and when Hoseok moves around the bed to get into his side, your practically spilling out of your vest. Your lips are parted, brows a little furrowed but you look peaceful. All hints of the utter torture you’ve been enduring are wiped from your face and you look kind of cute.

You? Cute? Ew, no. You’re [First]. The dorky girl Jungkook brought to lunch a few days after he first started at the uni. You’re the sweet little thing that scolded Jungkook for eating half of Namjoon’a sandwiches in one bite. You’re [First] who always brings cupcakes on a Thursday and you always give each cake icing which is the favourite colour intended for its recipient. You’re the girl who brings extra pens just in case Jungkook forgets his again, and who dances with Jimin when he’s drunk and you just want him to not fall over again, and who reads to Namjoon when he’s sleepy. You’re [First] who somehow gets along with Yoongi really well and makes him laugh all the time, who sits with Jin and is the only one who sings “yummy, yummy, yummy I’ve got food in my tummy” with him when he’s cooking.

You’re [First] who showed up one day holding hands with a senior guy and who looked so in love Hoseok thought his heart was going to burst right there. You’re [First] who always brought Hoseok water and food to his dance practice, who visited him at Hope World to remind him to take a break. You’re [First] who once broke the coffee machine and went out the same day and spent all your wages on a brand new one because you felt so bad. You’re [First] who came crying to Hoseok first when Jackson broke your heart, who called him at 2am and just asked him to speak to you because you needed to hear someone’s voice and you always liked his for some reason. You’re...

You’re extraordinary.

Hoseok doesn’t realise that his hand is caressing your cheek until you melt into his touch. He pulls away as if you’re hot to the touch. What is he doing?

The next morning, you’re not there when Hoseok wakes up and he feels a little... deflated. It’s only about 7am and he decides to get up despite a little lack of sleep. He feels groggy. He feels a little ache-y. He’s quiet as he manuvers down the stairs. He knows that Seokjin is driving today and he doesn’t feel like waking him up early and getting a lecture.

There’s a smell coming from the kitchen and Hoseok quite literally almost has a stroke when he sees you pottering around the kitchen in his hoodie and your shorts (which the hoodie is covering so it looks like you’re wearing nothing but his hoodie). You’re making pancakes and there’s all sorts of toppings already lined up on the counter. When you turn, you give Hoseok a smile.

“Morning, Hobi!”

His heart flutters in his chest. All he wants right now is to kiss you. You look so good in his clothes... You’re smiling at him and the sun is bursting through the windows. You’re glowing. He can still see that subtle hint in your eyes where you’re burning up but it seems you’re pushing it back for the time being. Maybe you relieved yourself before he woke up?

“Morning...” he has to be honest, he’s a little... taken back. You’re not usually a morning person. He knows this because one time you slept over and you had an 8:30am lecture the next morning. It took him, Jungkook and Jimin to get you out of bed and then for some reason you decided to temporarily bond with him for the morning. He had to drop you off at class and you had a toothpaste mark on the corner of your lip, your hair was just pulled into a messy ponytail and you’d thrown an outfit together. You were glaring at anyone and anything that came within a 1m radius of you except for Hoseok. So seeing you standing there smiling with a spatula in your hand at 7am is most likely the most shocking thing he’s ever seen.

“I made pancakes.” You hummed, turning back to the stove.

“I can see...” he’s still a little tired and his voice is so husky. He looks so good right now with a little bit of a bed head and his eyes not quite as bright as they usually are. You pretend the heat on your face is from the heat of the stove and you laugh it off quietly. This is fine. You’re fine. Fine.

“Would you like one?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Hoseok is sure he’s never tasted anything this good in his life. You tell him that it’s your grandmother’s recipe and he makes a mental note to meet the woman who taught you how to cook so well. Right now, you’re seeming like the full package. Until Hoseok reminds himself that he doesn’t do relationships. It’s too hard. But then again, it’s you. He’s looking at you again and you’re not looking at him. You’re currently overloading your pancake with syrup and he doesn’t know how you can intake so much sugar so early in the morning. He doesn’t understand why his heart is threatening to burst open his chest but he scoffs down his packcake so that you’ll make him another. It’s not long before the other members start to wake.

~^*^~

“-WHEN I’M WITH YOU ALL I GET IS WILD THOUGHTS!” The chanting around you has you shrinking further into your seat. Not that it did anything, you have Taehyung on your left and Namjoon on your right. Hoseok is sitting right in front of you with Jimin on his right and Jungkook on his left. Yoongi is in the passenger seat and Seokjin is driving.

Taehyung is trying to get you to dance with him in the very limited space and you’re trying to become invisible. Hoseok is laughing and you swear your heart is leaping into your throat. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, right, you didn’t. You’re burning a nice hole in the back of Jimin’s leg when your phone makes a noise.

From: Jimin ‘stop glaring at me’

To: Jimin ‘I wasn’t’

From: Jimin ‘I can literally see you in the mirror’

To: Jimin ‘in that case it’s just my face’

From: Jimin ‘no it’s not. Especially when you’re looking at Hosoek it ISNT’

To: Jimin: shut it Park

Jimin turns and gives you a flash of his smile and if you were close enough you would have hit him. Taehyung gives you a curious look and you bat him off.

“White girl wasted on brown liquor! I probably shouldn't be around you! 'Cause you get wild, wild, wild! You looking like there's nothing that you won't do!” The boys are still belting out the lyrics, but Hoseok’s head turning to lock eyes with you makes you nearly whimper. Fuck. He knows.

You don’t know how, it’s not even that logical that he would know about 1) your fat crush on him 2) your current horniness levels being through the roof 3) your want to ease your horniness with your big fat crush - so why are you panicking?! Jimin wouldn’t have told him. Jimin is an asshole, but he knows when to stop. He wouldn’t tell Hoseok. You hope.

When you pull up to this gorgeous summerhouse, you’re blown away by the scenery that surrounds it and well, the house itself. So much so that Taehyung has to pull you out of the car.

“This is technically Seokjin’s parents’ but they only use it for like two weeks in July so it’s ours for the rest of the year.” Jungkook explains and you nod at his words. You look around and Hoseok, despite being in a conversation with Seokjin and Jimin, is staring right at you. You look away.

“We could totally skinny dip.” Taehyung muses.

“You seven are more than welcome to engage in said sausage fest. I don’t feel like getting algae in my vagina.” You roll your eyes.

“Strictly speaking, you can’t really get algae in your pus-“ Namjoon is stepping over now.

“Why are you guys talking about [First]’s pussy?” Oh, there’s Hoseok, too. Great.

Please, lord, just let a small [First]-sized sink hole open up right under your feet and KILL YOU.

All seven members are now debating on if you can actually get algae in a vagina and you’ve literally never felt more uncomfortable. Hoseok is laughing at the chaos he’s had a hand in causing and your heart constricts alongside the bubbling, angry pit in your stomach. A pair of ripped denim shorts, a huge oversized white t-shirt (so large that he has to tuck it in to the front of the shorts so that it doesn’t look like a dress), an orange cap and matching vans. He looks... hot. As usual, in line with every other Jung Hoseok ™ look, he is so fucking hot.

Instead of standing around with the boys, you venture inside for a while. The house is very spacious but there’s only four bedrooms which means that everyone is going to have to bunk up. Apparently Seokjin normally gets a room to himself so he’s a little disgruntled at having to share a bed with Yoongi. Jimin is quick to pick Taehyung to bunk with and Jungkook decides he wants Namjoon because “Namjoonie Hyung sucks at switch games” which means... you’re bunking with Hoseok.

Holy shit you’re bunking with Hosoek.

You honeslty don’t know why you’re freaking out because you’ve slept (not like that) with Hoseok before. You guys like to cuddle every now and then and sometimes you’ve just straight up told Hoseok you’re sleeping in his bed because it’s really comfy (he has a memory foam mattress). Many times you’ve woken with his arms around your waist, nose pressed into the crook of your neck. But right now, something feels different. It feels like... like something has shifted monumentally between you and Hoseok. You’re starting to think that he really did hear you last night. You’re starting to think he knows you have a crush on him and you feel so stupid. There’s no way he likes you back so now you’re stuck with having to share a bed with him.

The first day is quick to pass as you get to the house at like 2pm. Seokjin whips up lunch and you guys sit out the back, looking at the large pond/small lake that sits at the back of the house. It’s a relatively warm day and it goes by pretty quickly. Before you know where you are, you’re lying in a bed next to Hoseok. It’s dark and your shoulder is touching Hoseok’s because somehow you also got stuck with the small double. Apparently it’s “too sexual” for two guys to share a bed and be that close but you know it’s bullshit because Jungkook and Taehyung literally compared dick sizes by whipping them out and holding them side-by-side. How is that- you know, you don’t even want to venture into that anymore.

You don’t know if Hoseok is asleep next to you. His chest is rising and falling but his breathing is a little too fast for someone who’s sleeping. He also keeps fumbling with his hands just a little and you’ve slept next to him enough to know that he stills when he’s officially asleep. Even so, you refuse to call out to him. But... he’s so close. And you’re beginning to burn up again. Oh god why now? Why next to Hoseok? Which reminds you, you need to smack Jimin when you see him tomorrow. Making you lie in this small-ass bed with Hoseok of all people, fully knowing how physically pent up you are. You find yourself rolling over, turning away from Hosoek and gulping in a breath. You are t h r o b b i n g. Since when had you become so hot? Before you know where you are, your fingers are over the material of your pyjama shorts and you’re biting into the pillow so that you don’t make a sound.

Fuck. This is so wrong. This is so so wrong. But you can’t help yourself. 13 months you been in this hell-like state. 13 months you’ve suffered. Your body can’t handle it any longer. You know how wrong this is. Getting yourself off with Hoseok lying beside you. Your friend Hoseok. Heavens above, you know he’s a sex god. You’ve heard more than your fair share of his sexcapades and you know girls don’t cry out like that if the sex isn’t great. You have a great mind to just roll over and beg him to fuck you. But you can’t. Because it. is. Hoseok. Because you know you’ll never live it down and you’ll definitely end up crushing on him more if he fucks you good. Your fingers are working at your bundle of nerves and oh, Lord, you’re close already. Can you come like this? Is this as needy as you’ve gotten? You’re willing to come for the first time in like four days sleeping next to one of your best friends/crush?

You don’t get the chance. Hoseok rolls over, grunting a little as he does. His arm tangled around your waist and he pulls himself close. He hums in your ear. You freeze. Your fingers are digging down into your core. Your eyes are wide open now and your heart is beating so quickly. Hoseok doesn’t make any further movement. He’s sleeping.

Except he’s not. He knows exactly what you’re up to and you are not about to come right next to him like that. Even with the pillow muffling you, you’re still a little loud and whiney. He’s smirking as he listens to your racing heart and your rugged breath. He’s pinning your arm against you and he knows you won’t move now. You’re trapped like this until he really does fall sleep. You’re trapped with your fingers on your cunt, so close to coming and nothing gives Hoseok bigger pleasure than knowing you’re shut down again. How much further will you need to be pushed before you crack?

The next day, you wake after Hoseok. He’s already up and you find him outside bending open the open bonnet of a red car. It’s a Golf R and you’re not entirely sure where it came from but Hoseok seems pretty busy so you sit down on the porch steps and wait for him to notice you. He’s gone with some ripped jeans today and a white tank top. His muscles flex every time his arms dip in and out of the metal and you’re flushing already. Get a grip, girl, it’s only 8:45! Hoseok turns after a while and flashes you a smile. Then, he’s calling you over. You don’t think that you can stand but you push yourself up and make your way towards him. {Part 2}

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bangtan smut #jhope #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope smut #hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x you #jung hoseok smut

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years

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Love After Exile - Rejection

Summary: Virgil loved Remus and Deceit long before they fell out. Now he’s dating Logan after beginning to recognise similar feelings. Roman works on matchmaking and finally talks to Remus about it all, and Dukeceit try to make their move for Logan and Virgil

Authors Note: Yeah it’s been forever since I updated, but the main thing I want to add is there’s almost a chapter worth of writing I’ve cut out of this where Virgil and Patton bake together. It didn’t really fit the story given how little a role Pat has in the story so I just summarised it.

Formatting: There’s a shifting POV, anytime you see Bold starts of a paragraph then there’s been a perspective shift.

Pairings: Analogical from the start, eventual Analoceitmus

Warnings for this part: suggestive talk, some sex references (Remus being Remus)

/\/\/\/\/\ Part One /\/\/\/\ Part Two /\/\/\/\/\ Part Three /\/\/\/\/\/\Part Four

Virgil knew change like it was a scent in the air. He could sense it was coming closer and closer currently, but nothing had been said that suggested what it was. Instead of speaking up about it,he worried; worried over if it was change in Thomas or change for himself, worried about how his family would react to the changes, simply worried about change disrupting his relationship with Logan or his tentative friendship now growing with Remus and Deceit once more. Above all of that he worried that Patton would fight whatever changes were happening.

He'd felt the echoes of concern coming from Morality when the other sides first heard Remus talking about His people. Everyone knew of Patton's distaste for the Deceitful side, even though they'd proven that he could tell the truth easily and often did. Virgil just didn't want that friendship to break down once more, not with how closely the emotional aspects of their roles had proven to be.

After the discussion of polyamory, a few days had passed with no appearance from either of the hidden sides, not that that meant they wouldn't pop in whenever it took their whims. Virgil decided to use the time to catch up with Patton, leaving Logan engrossed in rereading something that Roman had to have written given the cover.

After their afternoon baking and chatting Virgil knew that Patton would have a lot more thinking and introspection to do. He had hope some of the hostility to the others would reduce. It might not be enough to avoid another questioning of roles if something actually ended up happening with Deceit and Remus, but it was a start.

Thomas had been in a bit of a creative block this week, or at least that was Roman's excuse if any questioned why he was heading into the hidden commons to visit his brother. Of course Deceit would see in an instant that was a lie, and Remus would probably know fairly easily, but Patton and Logan would accept the excuse.

He actually wanted to find out where Remus was in regards to Virgil's feelings now. It had become clear that the pair were more focused on understanding Virgil since the day Roman learnt about his feelings, but their intentions were harder to discern. That's what brought him to knocking on Remus's door and decidedly trying not to think about the scratches and stains over it.

“Princey! What brings you to the forbidden side? Looking for a proper fight tonight?” Remus cheered as he opened the door, ushering Roman through while grabbing his morning star.

“Or perhaps some inspiration from unexpected places.” Roman rolled his eyes, easily batting the weapon back down.

The scoff that received was entirely expected. “Yeah, the other one has a cockring on it, much more fun to play with than whatever you're trying to pull.”

“You're just as polyamorous as I am but where is your attraction falling currently?” Roman easily switched subjects as soon as the door was shut, ignoring his brothers comments, and squaring his shoulders.

Remus froze at the abrupt subject change. He really had been expecting it to involve fighting as Roman's visits usually did, either him having an injury or just wanting to fight someone he didn't control for a while.

“Trust me, feeding into the urge to matchmake just ends up in arguments and losing friends, Ro. Don't try it with me.” He warned, suddenly serious in a way the others often forgot he could do.

“How do you think Mr I-Don't-Have-Feelings and Trust-No-Comfort got together? Thomas having accepted his attraction makes the attempts to matchmake a lot easier I would believe.” Just the subject would of course touch on the one thing the brothers avoided talking about, but Remus hadn't expected the role of looking after Thomas's attractions to change as much as the words he heard implied it had.

He shook the thoughts off with a wriggle. “Still misses out all the juicy stuff. Ya need me for the fun times.”

“I have my own methods for the fun times and definitely don't need you for them. I do however need you to answer my question. Who are you attracted to, trash panda?” Roman crossed his arms at the attempt to divert the conversation. Remus could see the urge to fight already growing behind his eyes, the chaos and lack of order frustrating the accepted creativity almost as much as the opposite made him antsy.

“You know you can't just trap me with them Roro. That's not how we work, and much as I like seeing people tied up, all that would make me do is cause a spectacle. Blood can be a wonderful paint you know.” He was trying to suggest things that would cause Roman to reveal whatever his intentions were without acknowledging who either was talking about. At least until there was a way to ask who Roman had in mind. “Just who are you suggesting I like anyway, Brother Dearest?”

Well, there goes subtlety, Remus always was bad at it, but at least Roman was now spluttering, somewhere between admitting who and vehemently denying he had anyone in mind. “NOBODY! Well, of course there's somebody or I wouldn't have decided on asking you instead of picking someone that doesn't constantly attack me, but Nobody.”

Deceit had seen Roman come in, heard the beginning of their chat and felt the lies resonating in him. He knew whatever the brothers were talking about had to seem important, at least to the prince, just as much as that Remus would want a way to recognise the truth.

Neither had decided on a good way to approach Virgil or Logan even now they knew most of the sides were polyamorous, and perhaps the romantic side could help with that. The shutting of Remus's door indicated a wish for privacy though, rather than an open invitation.

All the dark sides respected those signs, at least amongst themselves. Deceit still decided to use his role to help his partner, leaning against the wall of Remus's room, drawing lines with his nails as lies shuddered down his spine from things said within. Quietly enough that only people who knew this method would hear the sound as anything meaningful, but clearly an indication, he carried on doing the sign for ten minutes before any feeling of lies coming from within ceased.

Roman only glanced at him for a moment as he left, about half an hour since any lie had been told although Deceit was still curled up on a cushion he'd summoned to sit on while leaning there. He just smirked at the curious glance, waving the light side goodbye or rather in an obvious hint that he should leave more rapidly.

He still waited for a moment before joining Remus in the room, hearing a few snickers breaking out. “Dee-dee. He wants to matchmake for us.” Remus was crowing, rolling on his bed that had definitely been made by the prince given the sheets were now being methodically messed up once more.

“With who? Does he suppose us to be novices in the fields of love because he controls Thomas's romantic desires?” Dee sighed, letting the arms reaching for him become an embrace.

“Logan and Virgil of course.”

Logan had assumed that Roman would try matchmaking soon after he realised that Virgil loved Deceit and Remus. He had assumed that if the pair figured that out themselves they would soon be approaching Virgil. He had assumed a lot of things about love and romance incorrectly, especially regarding the other sides reactions to it.

Three weeks had passed since the start of all the chatter and still there was no change to the relationships of Thomas's mind-space except perhaps, Remus and Deceit properly getting together. Logan was content with that. It meant he could continue the comforting relationship with Virgil for longer and hopefully predict when it would be brought to an end by the pair Virgil loved.

He couldn't see that Remus claiming him as one of His People would particularly alter what would occur. So when Roman came asking for some grounding for an idea he was struggling with bringing into a possibility for a video of course Logan would agree, following him into the imagination. Virgil getting invited along too just made it all the more likely they would succeed in assisting.

Remus and Deceit already being present in the idea room was mildly concerning. Too much creativity could inhibit an ideas effectiveness and Deceit would be more likely to comfort them over issues than suggest real solutions.

“What idea needs both sides of creativity to form it?” Logan had to ask, immediately honing his gaze on Roman as he shifted uncomfortably.

He noted the glance and nod shared between Remus and Roman, as well as the dismissive wave Remus gave. “One that's actually mine but we don't want Patton to veto from the start. He's going to go fight the dragon witch or something while we talk it through.” Remus explained then, pulling about 20 loose sheets of paper from somewhere.

“You hate when I give input so why don't I just go with Roman?” Virgil's hesitance stopped the exit Roman was clearly trying not to make obvious now, but Logan understood. He'd heard about how Remus used to work through ideas when they got together.

The reaction wasn't expected. When talking about what they wanted to say and how Roman had suggested asking Virgil and Logan to join their relationship Deceit forgot to consider how they'd previously acted together.

A glance showed that both Creativities were lost over how to react in such a way that Virgil might stay and Logic was simply considering something so Deceit reacted instead. “Remus is ever reluctant to listen to amendments to his ideas, but we're working on it. I had hoped you'd be able to aid me in the attempts. If you're too scared of his madness though, by all means, go with Roman.”

There were a lot of things you simply shouldn't say to anxiety if you class him as an ally or friend, that sometimes made him easy to manipulate. Thankfully bringing up fear always did make him determined to face whatever he was wary about and the steel rearing in Virgil's gaze confirmed it had worked again.

“Show us the stupid idea and lets get this over with then!” Virgil growled out, already reaching to take the papers from Remus.

Letting one of the pair see what they'd actually written was not part of the plan but as Deceit watched Remus happily handed them over. “I do love it when you get all controlling Thunderclap, just makes me all tingly and excited.” Suppressing the sigh that came from Remus giving into his impulses was difficult now.

Deceit had double checked to make sure at least 2 of the pages were actually about an idea they might feasibly want Thomas to see that Remus had thought up but the majority were actually about their emotions, and reactions leading them to want this relationship. Now he would have to delay Virgil getting to those pages until Roman actually was out of the area.

“While that's all well and good, Dear, perhaps you'd like to tell Virgil and Logan about your idea? An actual battle to defend our ideas definitely needs some work to make it feasible.” He began, bringing their focus back from whatever thoughts Logan and Virgil were trying not to react to.

“Just because of editing. I don't see why we can't do it. It's not like any of us are actually going to get hurt. Thomas just acts all our roles out and he's already done me attacking Roman so why not an extra step further.” Remus was interested in the reactions he was getting now.

Virgil had looked taken aback at the innuendo and just what he'd suggested before Deceit brought their cover idea up. Logan had tilted his head, analysing something although whether that was the words or looking for any intent behind them wasn't for Remus to figure out. Deceit was the one in charge of that bit between them.

“Come on guys, there could be bloodshed, and Logan can finally get out all that pent up anger in a way other than throwing things at people. We can all be screaming and have warnings not to watch with headphones in.” He could ramble for ages about the fight idea, even the things they could use it to settle arguments about which was basically everything, and glancing to the edge of their gathering Roman had already disappeared.

Now he was just rambling, occasionally letting Logan interject with a thought over what opposition their team might have to trying to do a video like it and the technical difficulties they could face, eyes actually honed into the pages in Virgil's hand. The first page had already been passed over to Logan to look at and as soon as that second page was moved Remus was going to change the conversation on a 180degree turn. Perhaps he could literally do that with his head?

“This is definitely not your battle scenario.” Damnit Remus, getting lost in weird thoughts meant you missed the page being handed to Logan. Virgil was now staring, almost fearfully at the page which focused on Logan's many gorgeous attributes.

“But isn't it so much more interesting, Vi-vi? Just imagine what the four of us could be together! How much pleasure could be brought to you by three sets of hands instead of just one?” Sex always worked to get people to date you, even Logan had mentioned in in the valentines episode so that must be how you normally get a boyfriend.

Judging by Deceit's amused cough and Logan's raised eyebrows it might not be.

This was finally happening and Logan was shocked that he was being included in the proposition.

“Can I have some clarity? Are you asking for both of us to join your relationship or just suggesting Virgil dates the two of you in one relationship and myself separately to that?” He had to speak up, unclear over how he was included in the situation.

His inclusion could all be there for the open and healthy communication they'd discussed in regards to polyamorous relationships.

“We want to date both of you. All of us together.” Deceit confirmed, inclining his head. “How could we not with your intellect and Virgil's sharp wit. You both have us entranced although I wouldn't mind Virgil being a little less silent over his feelings now.”

That was when Virgil started a reaction Logan would never have predicted. Given all the emotions he'd been told about regarding the pair it was easy to believe Anxiety's function wasn't affecting him as much now as it had before he left.

Except the pages were being scrunched up and thrown on the floor even as Remus began speaking again. “Yes! Yes, logie, teacher, Mr Sir, Please, pretty please, ice cream covered pork chops please will you and Virgil date us?” The words lost no energy as everyone registered the reaction but Logan could see everyone's growing confusion and focus centring on Virgil.

Virgil glared at the question that had been asked and everything written on the pages he'd been holding. He took in the confused blinks from everyone including Logan. “I've already been through the pain of screwing up too much for you before. Why the hell should I open myself up to it all over again?”

He was vehement about protecting himself now. Logan had confirmed and reaffirmed that he'd always wait for Virgil to be ready to talk even before they got together. Deceit and Remus had done the opposite the day they tried to force him to speak and he couldn't take that again.

Of course he loved them, so fiercely and strongly that it was a battle to just reject them but not again, he couldn't go through that pain a second time.

Virgil saw Remus about to speak, and Deceit clearly thinking over what he could say to rectify the situation and couldn't take that either. He turned and walked out of the castle, past the boundary Roman usually made it difficult to sink out from behind and back to where he could curl up under all his blankets in his room, or maybe Patton's or Roman's someone he could get away with not wanting to talk about emotions immediately after going through them.

Silence fell as Virgil left, and not even a stray thought was in Remus's mind. His Person had just rejected possibly everything.

/\/\/\ Part 6 /\/\/\ Part Seven /\/\/\ Part Eight /\/\/\ Part Nine /\/\/\/\

#Analogical #analoceitmus #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides fics

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jukeboxjulian · 4 years

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( TOM HOLLAND / CIS MALE / TWENTY FOUR / HE/HIM/HIS ) i always seem to run into JULIAN EVANS at jukebox records. i’ve heard that if the REGULAR CUSTOMER had to choose one go-to record, it’d be SAVES THE WORLD by MUNA and that they can be CARING but also kind of SHY. for some reason, they always make me think of FINGERS CALLUSED FROM GUITAR STRINGS, TOO MANY SCARS TO COUNT, and THE TOO GOOD TOO PURE FOR THIS WORLD CINNAMON ROLL MEME. — ( alyssa, 27, pst, she/her/hers )

hi everyone!! I’m alyssa and I am super super new to tumblr rp... as in, this is my first time ever roleplaying on here in a group (eek)! I’ve been roleplaying for over 15 years now (seriously) and am usually used to forums and 1x1, so I’m excited to try something new :) I tend to write a LOT - as in if you don’t shut me up, I will give you thousands and thousands of words for replies hehe. anywho, julian is one of my favorite muses ever and I’m so excited to bring him here!! without further ado, here is my sweet baby angel precious baby panda, julian!

TW: child abuse, domestic violence, and alcoholism.

background | past & present

julian was born julian tyler evans on march 28, 1996, in santa barbara, california, to claire evans and dylan porter. if you ask him, he’ll tell you he has one parent - his biggest inspiration and his role model, claire. julian inherited all his best traits from claire: his kindness, his determination, his passion, and his ability to care for everyone and anyone. as a pediatric nurse, claire worked long hours throughout the majority of julian’s childhood, but still managed to stay exceptionally present in her son’s life and parent him through a tumultuous relationship.

dylan is out of the picture. julian has a few happy memories with his dad prior to the age of six, but the majority of their relationship is mired in trauma. dylan always had problems with alcohol, even prior to having julian, but those issues worsened when he lost his job in the early 2000s. seemingly overnight, the dad that julian once knew vanished. what started as a loving father-son relationship turned into a twisted game of cat and mouse, and julian found himself walking on eggshells in his own home. more often than not, julian spent his nights covering the bruises and scratches dylan gave him earlier in the day. julian and claire quickly became ER regulars, and he learned to sew his own stitches before his fourteenth birthday.

the abuse julian endured forced him to turn his pain and doubts inward. the overly happy and energetic child version of julian disappeared, replaced by a cautious and quiet boy who didn’t dare rock the boat for fear of retaliation. throughout his difficult childhood, julian found solace in one thing - music. as the son of two musicians, julian learned guitar and piano before he learned to form proper sentences. a natural knack for the craft led julian to pick up bass, drums, and production at an early age (though guitar and piano are still his first loves). the majority of julian’s high school years were spent locked in his room, perfecting one beat for several hours or layering vocals late into the night.

his best friend, danny, is perhaps the only thing that kept julian’s head above water throughout his childhood. julian and danny met in the orchestra room in middle school when neither of them had friends to sit with at lunch. the two boys became best friends instantly and helped each other through their childhood struggles - danny helped julian survive his dad’s abuse and julian provided danny with a safe space after coming out to his homophobic parents.

julian and danny moved to san francisco for college. it was there that they met zoe and kevin through an on-campus a cappella group. the four bonded immediately through a cappella and now play together in a band (and live together as roommates). you can catch them playing gigs around town, and you’ll probably catch julian outside the venue two hours later having in-depth conversations with every person who showed up for their show. the stage is the one place where julian comes alive - he’s a natural performer and sheds his shy persona easily when he’s in his element.

outside of the band, julian works as a second grade teacher, and occasionally works in the stacks at the local library during the summers to make extra money. he adores children and spends most of his free time coming up with lesson plans and songs to teach his kids in an engaging way. adorable elementary school teacher by day, hot musician by night: the julian evans story.

personality

julian is the definition of the “beautiful cinnamon roll, too good, too pure for this world” meme. he cares deeply and intensely about the people he loves, and he’s the most loyal friend you’ll ever have. julian is the friend who will hold your hair back while you puke. he leaves granola bars in his roommates’ cars when he knows they’re not eating enough. he goes out of his way to care for everyone he meets without expecting anything in return.

with that being said, julian is a bit of a doormat. this largely stems from his history of abuse - he’s used to thinking that things are his fault, and that it’s easiest to accept the blame and not rock the boat, even when he’s in the right. he’s the guy who won’t mention that the waiter got his order wrong at a restaurant because he doesn’t want to make them uncomfortable. you could shoot julian in the heart and he would apologize for bleeding on your clothes.

julian prefers lyrics to discussions. he’s a producer and a songwriter above all else, and he finds it much easier to express his feelings through music than through conversation. when his back’s against the wall - when he’s experiencing intense ptsd or anxiety or sadness or anger - he locks himself in his room and writes music.

as someone who craves deep, lasting connections, he isn’t one to have lots of acquaintances or fair-weather friends. he can count the number of close friends he has on one hand and he likes it that way. it’s hard for julian to open up to people initially, but once you get through his quiet exterior, he’ll let his guard down and stick with you no matter what.

in terms of romantic relationships, julian is tragically heterosexual. like in his friendships, julian is the type of person who wants a long-term, stable relationship. since his childhood, julian has always been a hopeless romantic, constantly searching for the girl who will finally make him understand the love songs he’s listened to his whole life. he’s painfully shy, which means he has a hard time approaching girls he’s interested in, and most girls don’t take the time to crack through his quiet exterior. with that being said, the girl who does end up with him for the long haul is in for a very loving relationship.

headcanons

around his friends, julian is the quintessential chaotic aries. he WILL set the kitchen on fire because he moves too quickly while cooking and will try to do backflips in the living room just to prove he can.

julian is a fantastic cook and a terrible baker, because he gets too distracted to properly follow directions. he’s also been a vegetarian since he was 13. his favorite food is his mom’s eggplant parmesan.

he has a small garden on the balcony of his apartment, where he’s trying to grow vegetables and flowers. he says hi to the bees that show up every morning and has names for all of them, even though he can’t tell them apart.

julian loves his music more than anything and tries to form deep, lasting connections with the fans of his band. he remembers every person he’s met and always tries to connect with people, even though it’s a bit draining for him as an introvert. he’s terrible at social media and has no idea how to work instagram live, but tries to do it anyway to connect with the fans.

julian will listen to anything and everything - kpop, death metal, folk, rap, the works. he drives his roommates up the wall by blaring music at all hours of the day.

he has a pit bull named belle that he adopted from the shelter. she’s his best friend. he also has four aunts, and was basically raised in an intersectionally feminist sex-positive witch coven. yep.

producing is julian’s biggest passion, followed closely by songwriting. he produces all of his band’s songs and enjoys collaborating with others on production. it’s the one area where he feels confident enough to be himself.

for someone so shy, julian is super comfortable with his sexuality and won’t stand for toxic masculinity. he and danny used to do drag, but he hasn’t had a ton of time for it recently. he is also very confident in the bedroom, which surprises a lot of people. hehe.

julian is a boxer. what stemmed from a need to defend himself turned into a genuine passion - it’s easy for him to turn his brain off and focus when he’s working out. that being said, you’ll only find him at the gym in the wee hours of the morning, when he doesn’t have to be around too many people. he is an introvert, after all :)

julian is dyslexic and has pretty terrible vision, so he needs glasses. he usually wears contacts, but the first girl to tell him she thinks he looks cute in his glasses will steal his heart.

#jukeboxintro #( intro )#sorry I wrote so much there is SO MUCH to julian u guys will see #eeeeep

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messedupessy · 4 years

Note

oh thats a good point actually - do your Boys all have different set romantic/sexual orientations or do you have them change depending on the scenario they're appearing in? :>

Ohh yees this is a very, very excellent question Ethan ohhh :>c

I do not have their sexualities change depending on the scenario they appear in, but most of my boys overall are pretty much completely pansexual, with some small leanings here and there but overall so are they hella pan, or bi.

As I headcanon in monster culture that, unlike humans, so is there no definite sexualities inmonster society, they haven’t needed any names for their sexualities.

Since there is no stigma whatsoever if you love someone of the samegender or is not interested at all etc, thanks to all monsters been so overly diverse and that there have never been any so called stigma thanks to religion etc, to change that.

They love whoever they want to, or don’t it’s all up to each individual monsters, so pretty much all monsterkind is pretty much pansexual or bisexual, with some few who are not.

For example, Undyne who is a whole ass lesbian, and Mettaton who is asexual, in my headcanon at least. But while it’s a bit strange to only be interested in one gender or not been interested at all, so is there absolutely no stigma or hate happening.

With that explained, let’s return to the boys.

Most of them are completely pan, or bi, they don’t really care or have a preference when it comes to gender overall.

Though some do have some small things they prefer when it comes to appearance and stuff, some leans a little bit more towards one specific gender a tiny bit. But overall none of them cares what you got in them pants, if they like you they like you, simple as that.

But some of them aren’t only pan/bi tho, for example, Stretch; he is also demisexual, it takes a bit for him to grow romantic feelings for someone, he needs a proper friendship connection before romance starts. He is also poly, up for having more than one partner at a time.

Though I almost forgot tho, my G snas boi Gans, he is completely aro/ace. And is the only one out of my boys to be so.

Technically though, I don’t have proper or set sexualities overall for most of the boys, as they don’t fully need it anyway thanks to my headcanon about monster sexualities overall, they will fall in love no matter what the person identifies as or got in them pants.

And while some, like Stretch above, do have some small preferences, so is this post already getting so long, so if you want to know more like proper specifics then send in another ask ye.

The only exception to the whole sexualities and this ask tho; are my pirate boys.

Since they all were originally humans before dying and becoming cursed skeletons, so is it only right that they all got properly named sexualities. Since they have not grown up in proper monster culture and are not originally monsters, unlike my other boys.

So Boney; he is a gay demi bisexual, it takes a bit for him to fall properly in love but this more out of trauma and fear of actually falling in love, but he does lean a bit more towards men overall. This is why I say he identifies as a gay bisexual, easier for him to get interested in a man, or someone who is more masculine overall, but he can still fall for someone who is a woman or nonbinary etc.

Pass on the other hand is completely pansexual, he literally has no preference like at all, if he likes you he likes you and that’s that. He is also very poly, but it is something he technically doesn’t fully need, as he adapts himself to his partner, if they aren’t okay with adding more people into their relationship so is he completely okay with that.

Then there is my Seafell pap boy Crow, who is completely and utterly gay. Men is the only way he rolls, the gayest ex pirate there ever was.

I haven’t properly thought out the rest of my other pirate boys, but I do have my female versions of Boney and Pass, aka Bon and Nessie. Though Nessie is like pretty much the exact same as Pass though so I’mma skip her.

Bon tho, she is very much a lesbian. A complete and utter lesbian.

And that’s all ya get for now yeah.

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forever-rogue · 5 years

Text

The Edge of Thirty - Part 5

Summary: Everyone seems to be getting married, having babies, or “growing up.” Except Y/N. Suddenly at almost thirty, reality seems to be crashing down on her – and hard. Nothing seemed as daunting as turning thirty…until she met Gwilym Lee anyway.

A/N: Hiya guys! Thanks for much all the support on this series, I really appreciate it and every single of you guys! I hope you enjoy! xx

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: some more foreshadowing (oof), very light smut

MASTERLIST

"And that my little love bugs is why recycling -" Y/N stopped mid-sentence as a knock came at her door. She turned to look at her students, giving them a wide eyed grin, before putting a finger to her lips, and heading to the door. She had a feeling she knew exactly who it was. She calmed herself for a moment, smoothing her dress before opening the door and coming face to face with a stout, mustached man who immediately gave her the once over.

"Miss L/N?" so much for a good morning or any sort of proper greeting. Trying to hide her discontent, Y/N plastered on a big smile while she bobbed her head up and down in confirmation. The man gave her a disdainful look that spoke volumes: he was already predisposed to not liking her. Clearing his throat he mustered out, "my name is Victor Redson, I'm here to sit in on your class. I believe Headmaster Crickle informed you that I was coming?"

"Of course, please do come in Mr. Redson," she would have loved nothing more than to smack him across the face, but stayed her hand. Otherwise she'd probably never find another job anywhere in England. Instead, she pulled the door wide open and allowed him in, "class, this is Mr. Redson, he's going to be joining us today. What do we say to visitors?"

"Good morning, Mr. Redson," they chorused at the man, curious looks on their little faces, as he clambered in and took a seat in the back of the room. A few of them giggled eagerly, trying to get a better look at their intruder, but Y/N tried to avoid his piercing gaze. All she had to do was keep herself calm and composed and she would be fine. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, she reminded herself. She was a good teacher after all, she just needed him to realize that.

"Miss L/N," he took out a notepad and pen and leaned back in the chair. He had an air about him that she didn't quite like. A sort of superior air that suggested he clearly thought he was superior to her. There was something about him that she couldn't quite place. She didn't like him already, that much she knew, "please carry on and conduct your class as your normally would. Pretend I'm not here."

"Of course," she gave him a smile, before turning to sit on the edge of her desk. Part of her felt like she should change her ways for the day, basically embody the picture of perfection, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd never allow herself to change for anyone, including an old man bent on bring her down. It was going to her way or no way.

She reached for the book and she had started reading with them and beckoned for them to do the same. The sound of all her little students pulling out their own copies was like music to her ears, "now. Turn to where we left off...I believe page three hundred ninety four."

Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch. It was as if something in the universe had gone right and the fates were in her favor. Her students must have sensed that she was nervous, or something odd was up because they behaved much better than they ever had before. Not that they were a particularly rowdy bunch in the first place, but they were just extra sweet today. Especially her little group of favourites - Jenny, Brian, and Johnnie.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, she was sure she was safe and even Crickle would be impressed. It seemed like it was easier to breathe suddenly, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. For once, things finally seemed to be going right - she and Ben had made up, she felt confident at work, and she had that blissful newness that was Gwil.

It had only been a few weeks since they had first met, but those few weeks had been, to put it simply, amazing. Gwil had turned out to be the epitome of the perfect man and she often wondered if he was actually real and not just a figment of her imagination.

Packing up her things for the day, Jenny was going on about how excited she was that her Uncle Gwil was picking her up again. He'd, very sneakily, made it a point to start picking her up whenever his schedule had allowed, claiming it was all to spend to time with his favorite niece and to help his brother out.

A very doting uncle indeed she had told him, but she knew he enjoyed the added benefits of getting to her almost everyday. If he was feeling really confident, he’d even sneak her a few flowers, which she kept displayed in a vase on her desk.

"Hey Jenny," he said as he leaned in the doorway, beaming down at the little girl who immediately ran over to hug him. He picked her up and gave her a big kiss, as she giggled in his arms, “did you have a good day? Where you good for Y/N - I mean Miss L/N?”

“Yes, Uncle Gwil,” she promised him, “we had a visitor today so were all on our best behavior!”

“Good girl,” he smiled as he set her back down. Y/N looked at him with a smirk as she mouth nice save at him. Needless to say, they hadn’t told Jenny they had been seeing each other. Not that they were trying to hide it necessarily, but they didn’t need her telling everyone and having a certain someone find out. That was more drama that was not needed, “Jenny, why don’t you say goodbye to your friends, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”

“Okay, Uncle Gwil,” she grabbed her backpack and lunchbox before running out of the room to meet her friends on the playground. She paused when she got to the door, stopping to wave at Y/N, “bye Miss L/N, have a great day!”

“Bye, love bug!” she waved at her as Gwil walked over to her, making sure Jenny was out of sight before leaning down and kissing Y/N gently. She smiled into the kiss, reaching up and putting her hands on his shoulders, “hello to you too tree boy, someone’s eager for a kiss this afternoon.”

“Missed you,” he said as he snuck in a quick peck before leaning against the desk next to her. She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and snort, as she often did when she was completely comfortable around someone. It had quickly become one of his favourite sounds.

“Gwil, you saw me last night,” she joked as she nudged him gently in the ribs, “and this morning when I left your place for work. It’s been like...maybe ten hours.”

“I don’t care,” he insisted, as she moved in front of him, stepping into the space between his legs as he wrapped his long arms around her, “still missed you, love.”

“You’re too much of a romantic to be real,” she whispered as she nuzzled her face into his chest, the now familiar smell invading her senses. He always smelled so good - clean and fresh, mixed with his natural musk, “are you just gonna hug me, or are you gonna kiss me properly? We’ve only got a few minutes before Jenny will get suspicious.”

“I guess I’ll kiss you properly, just to give you a little something to remember me by,” he put his hands on the sides of her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone. She smiled at him as she studied his brilliant cerulean eyes, as he gently pressed his lips onto hers, the kiss soft but meaningful.

She didn’t know if it had been thirty seconds or thirty minutes since Gwil had started kissing her, but they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on her door frame, followed by a throat clear. Y/N almost jumped back from Gwil, cursing herself for not remembering to close and lock her door. Turning to face the intruder, her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw Redson, flanked by Crickle standing there, staring at the two of them.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Miss L/N,” Crickle commented dryly, looking back and forth between the two of them. She could feel that her cheeks were red hot, but did her best to remain composed, “I can come back another time?”

“No, sir, of course. He was just umm, leaving,” Y/N hastily pushed him towards the door, refusing to make eye contact or prolonging the awkward interaction any longer. This was bad, this was real bad.

“Mr. Lee, was it? You’re Jenny’s uncle, aren’t?” of course Crickle wouldn’t just let him get away. Of course he knew exactly who he was. Just as quickly as the fates had decided to be kind to her, it all got ripped out from under her feet. Gwil stopped in his tracks, giving him a tight lipped smile and wondered whether he should lie or not. Instead he gave him a slight nod.

“Indeed,” he said shortly, trying his best to shimmy out the door, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going, have my own class to teach soon.”

“Good day, Mr. Lee,” he raised an eyebrow at him, refused to say anything else, zoning back in on Y/N. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste the metallic flavor of blood, “Ms. L/N, I was on my way to give you a bit of a congratulations. It appears Mr. Redson here was quite impressed by how you handled your class.”

“Thank you, sir, it means a lot-”

“But I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship with an immediate family member of one of your students,” he peered down his glasses at her, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her worst fears seemed to be coming true.

“I’m not,” she lied hoping to be at least somewhat convincing. The look he gave her suggested that he in no way believed her. She had to be quick on her toes and stay one step ahead of him, otherwise it could all come crashing down around her.

“Oh, was that not what we happened upon-”

“No, it was nothing. A few moments of indiscretion, I assure you, Headmaster,” lying through gritted teeth, she realized how much she hated those words. But right now, she wasn’t about to lose her job over a quick make out session gone wrong because neither of them had thought to shut the door, “I apologize for the...scene I seem to have caused, but I assure you it’ll never happen again. I take my job more seriously than to put it in jeopardy over a mistake. It was a temporary loss of reason, please forgive me.”

Gwil stood in the hallway, listening to their exchange with baited breath. He wasn’t sure what he had expected her to say, but the words still stung a little bit. Hearing her deny their relationship made it feel sneaky and inappropriate, when it reality it was neither -they weren’t some sort of love-struck teenagers running around behind their parents’ backs after all. He also knew that she was under strict scrutiny at the moment, but her snappy response and calling it a mistake still felt him feeling uneasy.

Sighing to himself, he stepped away to round up Jenny and drop her off at home before going to teach his late afternoon class. It was his last class of the week, and Friday had come at last at the end of another long week and right now he wanted nothing more than a good drink and a quiet night in.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Crickle furrowed his brows at her, as Y/N gave him a thankful nod, “I’ll go over your assessment in more depth in the following week, and then we can discuss it one on one. Keep your afternoons clear next week, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, Headmaster,” trying her best to maintain a smile as the two men left, she quickly closed the door behind them and locked it. Letting a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, she yanked her phone out of her desk drawer and typed out a message to Gwil.

Sorry about all that. Guess we need to be more careful from now on!

It was an agonizing few minutes as she anticipated his response. When it finally came it was short, and rather out of character for him.

No worries. See you tomorrow.

Frowning at her phone, namely his response, she decided not to text him back just yet, and put her phone in her bag, getting ready to head home for the day. At least she had dinner with Ben, Becca, and Lucy to look forward. It had been a long week, and she was more excited than anything to see her friends again. It would be just the four of them, no significant others included. Just like the olden days.

“Can you believe it’s only ten more days until your wedding?!” Becca asked excitedly, gripping onto Lucy’s arm. The look on Lucy’s face suggested she was anything but excited, nervous more like, a worried expression in her soft eyes. In all honesty, Y/N had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and life lately that she had almost forgotten about the wedding. She made a mental note to triple check to confirm that it was on her calendar. She wouldn’t survive the day if she missed her best friend’s wedding, and she was not willing to take chances.

“Is it too late to get cold feet?” she laughed, glancing anxiously at her best friends. Ben and Y/N exchanged amused looks with their eyebrows raised before shaking their heads at her. She groaned lightly and reached for her wine glass, downing the rest of it in one big gulp.

“Jesus, Luce, slow down or we’re going to have to carry you home!” Y/N knew Lucy was a lightweight and it didn’t take much to get her drunk, and although she was a hysterical drunk, now probably wasn’t the time, “I doubt Rami wants to babysit tonight, isn’t he out with Joe and Tessa?”

“I’m just so...I don’t even know how to describe the feeling,” she stated, flailing her arms in the air in search of the right words to use, “I love Rami, so much, truly, but the whole planning and actually getting married is scarier than I thought! But it’ll be worth it though, I know it. Y/N...did you feel similar when you and James-”

“Yes,” she cut her off quickly, averting her eyes to the floor. The question had caught her so off guard and left her feeling sad and vulnerable, her eyes almost immediately stinging with tears. She knew Lucy hadn’t meant any harm by her simple question, but it had become a bit of an unspoken rule to not discuss such matters. The subject of James was supposed to remain off limits. Ben reached over and squeezed her leg reassuringly, and she just rested her hand on top of his.

“Y/N,” he interjected before Lucy could continue on, Becca looking away awkwardly as she remained oblivious, “is your new boyfriend, who you’ve kept hidden from us, going to be your plus one to the wedding?”

“Umm,” Y/N almost choked on the bite she was halfway through chewing as all eyes were suddenly on her. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind - she had been so wrapped up in Gwil that she forgot about everything else. It was all so fresh and new that introducing him to everyone was at the back of her mind. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not your boyfriend? We’ve seen to be quite taken with this Gwilym for someone who’s not your boyfriend,” Ben raised an eyebrow suspiciously at her and she just shrugged, “you’ve spent a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged wishing everyone would just go back to eating and focusing their attention their meals instead of grilling her, “it’s been fun, but I’m not going to call it anything it isn’t.”

“Does he know you feel this way?” Becca asked gently, trying not to push Y/N too far, knowing that her dating life was sometimes a volatile conversation. Looking over at her briefly, she opened and closed her a mouth a few times, trying to find the right words, “I’m not trying to be mean, love, and don’t take it that way. I just want to make sure you’re the on the same page. It seems like he’s pretty smitten with you.”

“We’re both adults, I’m sure he knows I feel. It’s not like we made some sort of promise to be exclusive or anything, besides we’re allowed to have a little fun,” she was quick to play off her friends’ concerns, knowing she sounded like she always had. It was just fun - nothing serious, just like every fling past James.

“Babe, you...just make sure he knows how you really feel,” Ben said quietly, and she just nodded at him, “because if he cares about you how much you seem to care about him, then he wants to be serious with you.”

“Look, I appreciate all your concern guys, I really do, but I’m sure he knows what we are. We aren’t official or anything, and I’m sure he knows that. We started off as a one night stand, did either of us expect it to really work out?” Y/N mused out loud, more for herself than the others.

She really, really did like Gwil. There was no doubt about it that he made her heart go pitter-patter and she was also so whipped for him - but where did that leave them? Were they actually going to do this and be serious with one another? She tried to picture herself waking up everyday next to Gwil; it was an easy answer - yes. But in her heart of hearts she knew she was scared, terrified even, of anything more serious than the occasional fling. The idea of more heartbreak and possibly going through another major loss was almost too much to bear, and it seemed safer to keep people at a distance. Walls up meant you were safe, walls down left you defenseless and vulnerable.

But what about Gwil? Where did that leave him. She cared him about, more than just in a he’s hot and amazing in bed sort of way.

“It’s okay to let people in, Y/N,” Lucy said gently, reaching across the table and giving her hand a gentle pat, “besides, it seems to have been going well. Don’t push him away just because it’s a little scary.”

“I won’t mess this one up, you guys,” she played them off with a light smile and a chuckle that sounded just a little too forced, “if something’s meant to be with Gwil and myself will happen. I swear it.”

“Soooo, he’ll be your plus one?” Becca teased, nudging her foot gently with her own, bringing a real smile to her face. Not matter how much they argued or disagreed on things, her friends always had her back. It didn’t always feel like it, but she knew it was true. Almost twenty years of friendship wasn’t something that just went down on the drain.

“You lot are the worst, just so you all know,” Y/N grabbed her wine glass and raised it in a mock salute, “but yes, I’ll ask him if he’ll be my date and then you can all meet him and have him heading for the hills!”

“We would never,” Becca swore, “we love a tall, sexy English literature professor. We could always use some more eye candy - no offense to you or the guys, Benny.”

“None taken,” he jokingly pouted, causing them all to laugh, “we’ll just have to see exactly how good looking he is.”

“Really, guys?” Y/N sighed lightly, shaking her head with an amused grin on her face, “the absolute worst!”

Trying to catch her breath as she leaned down to press a kiss to Gwil’s lips, she noticed he seemed slightly off. Normally he’d touch her face, whispering all sorts of sweet nothings in her ear, showering her in kisses. Not tonight though, he remained stagnant, no visible signs of emotion on his face. Y/N let out a tiny sigh, sliding off of him and heading to bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean herself off. Normally Gwil would take that duty, making sure she was properly looked after they both reached their highs.

“Gwil?” she asked quietly, sliding back into her bed and lying next to him, keeping a small distance between their warm bodies. He made a noncommittal sound, but didn’t roll over to look at her, staring at the ceiling instead, “what’s wrong, bub? Are you even here with me?”

“I’m here,” he responded after a few tense moments of silence. A small sense of relief flooded her veins as she rolled over to study his profile. Even in the pale moonlight, he was more handsome than anyone should have been allowed to be. His eyes were wide open, and unflinching, his chest rising and falling slowly. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as a million thoughts seemed to race through his mind.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” she asked, resting her head on the pillow and reaching over, tracing aimless shapes over his bare chest. He reached over and grabbed her hand, putting a stop to her actions, rolling over slowly to look at her. She would be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt her feelings a little bit, “Gwil?”

“Have you thought I was a mistake this whole time?” he asked suddenly, and a look of confusion crossed her face. She didn’t know where he had even gotten the notion from; it wasn’t like he was there during dinner with her friends, “I heard you talking to the Headmaster yesterday. A mistake and a moment of indiscretion, I believe you called it.”

“Oh...I didn’t know you were listening,” she cringed lightly, realizing what she had said was pretty damning. He looked at her, a concerned look on his handsome face, “Gwil, no, bub, please that didn’t mean anything. It was all just talk.”

“Oh?” he echoed her earlier words, seemingly unconvinced by her words, “because I’m not going to waste my time if you don’t want me. I’m too old for that, and I don’t care for it. I want to be with you, Y/N, and entails telling people we’re dating, going out and living our life as a normal couple.”

“You do?” she asked in a small voice as he nodded at her, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. There it was, her insecurities peeking through again, making her want to run away and hide. That was a commitment, a serious commitment, “I just I told Crickle that because I don’t need him to have another reason to fire me. I’m on thin enough ice as it is, and it’s barely beginning to thaw. I need to keep him on my good side.”

“I know...” he realized she was right, her job was important to her, “I understand, it was just...a bit harsh to hear. Perhaps my ego’s too soft.”

“Trust me, Gwilym Lee, I really care for you,” she confessed, her heart starting to thump wildly in her chest. It made her nervous to say the words out, like he could so easily just reject her, but he didn’t. He was choosing her, “I’m not going to lie and say this isn’t scary for me, but...just be patient with me, yeah?”

“I will. love,” he reached over and stroked her cheek gently, “I’ll have you know, I care very deeply for you too. But, that does lead me to my next question - will you be my girlfriend? Officially? So we can go on and be a normal couple?”

“Yes,” the word rolled off her tongue more easily than she had originally anticipated. It was easy, so easy saying yes to him and having no reservations. Calling the tall lanky tree that was Gwilym Lee her boyfriend seemed pretty good to her, “I’ll be your girlfriend, you big dork. But I have a question for you too...”

“Wow, things really are getting serious, aren’t they?” he joked, letting his hand drift down her bare body, pushing the covers back as he ghosted his fingers over her supple flesh, “look at us, in bed, discussing serious things. Just like a real couple.”

“I don’t know how serious my question actually is,” she laughed lightly, the way he was studying her was not lost on her. He smirked at her, one eyebrow cocked, “Lucy and Rami’s wedding is next weekend. Will you be my date?”

“Isn’t that kind of assumed?” he teased, slowly pulling her closer to him, soon leaving a bit of space between their bodies, “besides I want to meet your friends. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of good stories to tell. And I’ve got a new suit to break in.”

“They’re dying to meet you,” she agreed, the idea of him in a new suit caused tingles to shoot through her body. She wondered who gave him the right to look that good in a suit, casual tshirt and jeans, and naked. It simply wasn’t fair. But for some reason, he had chosen her, and she wasn’t about to argue with that, “they probably think I’m making you up.”

“I can assure, love, I’m real,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers, pressing a few lazily kisses to her face as his hand drifted lower and lower before settling just above her hips, “I’m sorry for acting like an arse.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said as she placed a hand on his chest, “‘s okay. We’re here now, together, and that’s what matters.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said in a suggestive manner and she almost moaned at the tone of his voice. It was so smooth, so perfect, and lusty, “you did all the work earlier. Let me take care of you properly.”

“Gwil,” she breathed out as he pulled back from her, sliding down the bed and slowly spreading her legs. She bit her lip, trying to hold back her whimpers as he kissed along her thighs, stopping when he reached their apex, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted, shooting her a wink, “let me love you, Y/N. Let me be the one to take care of you.”

“Okay,” was all she managed to squeak out before his disappeared between her legs, her hands balling up in the sheets almost immediately. She tried to keep her mind quiet and to enjoy the pleasure, but, of course, it wasn’t meant to be. A slight sense of panic set in - she had just agreed to be someone’s girlfriend. It was scary, she knew, she hadn’t been anyone’s girlfriend in years, and for good reason.

But here she was, lying in bed with the most handsome of men between her legs telling her he wanted to her. And she was having second thoughts, all because of her own trepidation. If only life was as easy as the movies made it appear.

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dingoat · 4 years

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Character Interview

Tagged by @askshivanulegacy and @cinlat !! TY for tagging, I do get there eventually! Pretty sure most folk in my regular have been tagged already? @greencrusader13 have you done this for any of yours?

► Name ➔ Ahuska Crow of Clan Crow, allies of Motir’Ang and Kot, member of the Free People’s Army. You don’t get to call me Puppy!

► Are you single ➔ "Hell no! And don’t you dare fethin’ start with that ‘oh but if you were...’ talk.”

► Are you happy ➔ “Yes. I mean, mostly. Got some osik to sort out before I can properly relax and say I’m content, y’know? But I like where I’m at, like... personally, if that’s what you mean.”

► Are you angry ➔ “I mean I do get angry sometimes? Sure?”

► Are your parents still married ➔ “They would be, if Santha wasn’t marching very far away. I’m not sure Jinn could give her heart to anyone else.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ "Best guess is Ruweln. But home is Dxun.”

► Hair Color ➔ “Blonde? Like really really blonde? Is this what they call ‘platinum’ on Coruscant? I dunno. I mean it’s not quite white.”

► Eye Color ➔ “Blue. Like the sky near the horizon in the middle of the day on Tatooine.”

► Birthday ➔ “Aaaahahaha I mean sure I was born on a specific date but who the feth knows what that was. I kinda pick a different day every year that I feel like celebrating the fact that I’m a little older than I was before. ‘Oh, have I had a birthday yet this year? No? Let’s have it in a week.’ That sorta thing.”

► Mood ➔ "What like... right now? Kinda happy, kinda anxious. Like I said, got osik to do and Imps at my back. Enjoying the moments I can but, stars, always got to keep an eye over my shoulder.”

► Gender ➔ “Female? Is this important?”

► Summer or winter ➔ “Out of the two? Winter. But every season’s got it’s strong points. You ever had a ripe peach? Damn, I’ll forgive every drip of gross summer sweat for the fact that it comes with peaches.”

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “ALL DAY EVERY DAY.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “Not even a question. Head over fethin’ heels.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I mean... yeah.”

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “That bastard did. Can’t believe I let him waste my time the way he did. If I ever see his bastard face again...!”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ "Uhhh. I meeean.” Side-eyes toward Kovar. “That doesn’t really count, does it? He knew I loved someone else the whole time. He never had a chance.”

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “I guess not?”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Every goddamn night and plenty times in between.”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “Not that I’ve ever... been made aware of? Though sometimes I wonder, after Crow showed me all those news pieces across the holonet. Might be cute, hey? So long as they don’t go all creepy stalker over it?”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “I know this is about my love life. But... there’ve been times I’ve taken in an animal that I knew, deep down, wouldn’t make it. Didn’t stop me trying. Couldn’t stop the inevitable. That’s what happens when you love animals, yeah? Little lives that are almost always destined to play out before yours does.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Oh, both. Love is all the time, lust is in the moment, and both are fethin’ excellent.”

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “How about caf or a strawberry milkshake you heathen.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Both. And birds, and reptiles, and reptomammals, and cetaceans, insectoids, mustelids... want me to keep going...??”

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “....hmm. I guess I keep my circle of real close people... pretty small. I’m trying to get to know more folk, though. Yeah... yeah I’ve got a good few out there who mightn’t know everything about me, but I could still call on to get me out of a pinch. That’s friendship enough, right?”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Yes.”

► Day or night ➔ “Both. Your sleep cycle kinda becomes arbitrary when you planet hop as much as we’ve been lately, ‘lek? See plenty of both and I wouldn’t trade one for the other, though... there’s something to be said for stars.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “I’ve definitely been caught sneaking.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Oh probably. Buir used to say I went through a phase where I just kinda rolled everywhere.”

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Oh, stars. Yes.”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “.....” The pause is very lengthy, the answer very quiet. “Yeah.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Oh my stars, don’t make me choose. I suppose I usually notice eyes first on a person, but when it came to Crow...”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “No preference. When you grow up with buire as different in height as mine were, hah, anything seems acceptable.”

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Attraction, but it’s gotta be on... all levels, yeah? Physical’s important but you need that personality click, too.”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Yeah. Always loved them. And now that buir’s back to me proper, there’s nothing but love there.”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Nah. I had a... pretty fethin’ blessed upbringing, honestly. Stars knows what it was like before I was adopted, and sure some of the osik I been through the last couple years has been a little... ahhh... not great... I’d still say overall my life’s been a good one.”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ "Not really. Couple times as a kid I’d go on ‘adventure trips’ sorta without properly warning m’ buire but I don’t think that’s the same thing?”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ "Nah.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ "....look. There has been hate, yeah. But it was never secret. And there might still be things to work through. But anyone I hate completely isn’t a friend.”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Nah. Definitely a few good folk I know but only as casual acquaintences. People I don’t mind being around, but wouldn’t expect to stick their neck out for me, ‘lek?”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Crow. Hands down. Sometimes... sometimes I feel like... if Nines ever actually properly let down her guard... ahh, I dunno. In another world, maybe.”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “Crow is the only one I voluntarily share every part of myself with. But I don’t doubt Nines knows everything that could possibly be scrounged up about me, whether I want her to or not.”

#character asks #ask meme #ty ty for the tag!!

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hard-on-harry-blog · 5 years

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Tonight Love

This one is a smutty, angsty lil number based around Valentine’s Day. It involves unprotected sex with a stranger, but please wrap those willies up kiddos! And please don’t read this if you aren’t 18+ <3

Thank you to my girlfriend @for-fucks-sake-h for always being my go-to girl. I love you. :)

3k+ words!

PLEASE let me know if you enjoy this! I’d really appreciate it. :)

(Not properly edited - I was too excited to post something longer on here!)

The pub was just beginning to empty out as snow began to fall outside, but Harry decided to stay warm inside and sip on whisky, not wanting to go back home and face the quiet just yet. He’d just gotten out of the longest relationship he’d ever had, just over a year, and he felt himself drowning in sorrow. Although he was the one who initiated the break-up, he had truly experienced deeper feelings for her than he’d felt for anyone before, and it made him sad to see it end. Not to mention, the loneliness that he always felt was just that much stronger.

The crease between his brows was deep as he sat at the bar, allowing himself to wallow in his own melancholy, brave enough to finally feel what he’d been putting off. He felt comfortable letting himself feel sad when he was surrounded by strangers, sure that there had to be someone in a worse off spot than he was.

And there was.

There was a girl at the other end of the bar, allowing the burn from the shots down her throat to distract her from the fact that she’d finally left an over 5 year relationship that she’d wanted to leave for as long as she could remember, but she felt so lonely because she was used to having someone around. Her legs were dangling off of the barstool, unable to reach the floor from where she sat, and she felt like it was the perfect metaphor. She felt small. Fragile.

Harry glanced down at her and saw a single tear rolling down her face. He could almost feel her sorrow drowning out his own. It was fucking Valentine’s Day and she looked stunning, maybe she’d been stood up, he couldn’t be sure. She at least deserved to have someone buying her drinks for her, even if her heart was broken and probably impossible to be fixed much like his own.

“Excuse me, sir? D’you know if the woman down there is here alone? The one in the pink dress.”

The bartender turned his head down the bar, nodding, “Think so. She’s been here for an hour and a half and hasn’t moved from that spot.”

“What’s she drinking?”

“Flaming lemon drops.”

“No idea what that is but send her one on my tab, please. Looks like she could use a smile.”

The bartender nodded and poured another for the girl down the bar. He handed it to her, letting her know where the shot was coming from and she looked at Harry, a sad smile on her face. She held it up, mouthed a ‘thank you’, and downed it within a moment.

Her eyes clenched shut as the burn hit her throat again, not feeling quite as strong as the first few, but still ever present. She needed to stop feeling, she couldn’t handle feeling so lonely. She wasn’t used to it. She hadn’t spent a Valentine’s Day alone since she was a teenager and she didn’t know what the do with herself.

He ordered himself another shot of whisky, allowing the burn to warm his insides once more. He glanced back over to her and saw that she was actually bobbing her head along to the music in the background, a sure sign that the alcohol was finally doing it’s job and she was beginning to let loose, and maybe not feel quite so sad.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to feel a buzz either. He’d never had a high tolerance and being a few shots in was doing him in more than he’d like to admit, but he welcomed the sensations. Anything was better than sadness, than loneliness.

He ordered each of them another round, which they did whilst maintaining eye contact. Neither of them felt so alone anymore, thankful that there was someone there that was experiencing something similar. It was Harry that decided to close the gap between them, making his way down the bar next to her, sitting on the stool to her right.

“I’m Harry,” he held his hand out, sounding raspier than usual, he was almost surprised at the depth of his own voice. He hadn’t talked too much in the last hour and the alcohol coating his throat certainly wasn’t helping.

She shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Thank you for the drinks, that was really nice of you.”

“No sense in both of us being here, buying our own drinks, and being a couple of emotional recluses. Saw you were crying, didn’t want your Valentine’s Day to be as shitty as mine.”

She let out a chuckle, “Think that’s too late, but it’s a sweet thought. What’s gotten you so sad?”

“Broke up with m’girlfriend. Longest I’ve ever been with someone, proper sort of throwing me for a loop. What about you?”

“Broke up with my boyfriend as well. I’m not really used to being alone anymore, especially not on a day like today. Always been a big sop, being alone on Valentine’s Day feels like a bad dream.”

He nodded, being able to relate completely. Harry was a hopeless romantic and the day of love was deemed that for a reason - you were meant to remind the ones you love how much you loved them. He was feeling very unloved and was very much craving to feel loved again. Or at least to feel something outside of the crippling loneliness he was feeling

“Well, I probably sound like a fuckin' nutter but let’s spend tonight together. Neither of us wants to be alone. Clearly you’re stunning and ‘m not so bad myself, even if a bit narcissistic. Think I can manage to pretend to love ya for a night if you feel up for the challenge too.”

She nodded, “I think I can manage that as well. Do you want to dance, Harry?”

He stood up and held his hand out, “I’d love to, Y/N.”

They made their way to the nearly empty dance floor, holding each other close as though they’d known one another forever. The way that her back was rubbing against his front was making his mind feel hazy, almost forgetting that she was actually a stranger. Her touch against him felt familiar and he welcomed the familiarity, clinging onto it for all that it was worth.

They allowed themselves to get lost in those feelings for four songs in a row, feeling closer every sway. Both of their own respective loneliness didn’t feel quite as heavy, although it was still there. As much as they were enjoying the feel of having someone nearby and some sense of familiarity, it wasn’t the person whose presence they were truly used to, but it would do for tonight.

They made their way back to the counter, the last two in the building. They ordered another round of shots, doing them together, allowing themselves to forget their sorrows for a while and find refuge in the laughter of their “tonight love” as Harry called it.

Before too long, the bartender notified the pair that the pub was closing and they’d unfortunately need to leave. Neither of them knew what to do but the idea of being completely alone all night felt like it was out of the question, just the thought of it once again drowning them in the overwhelming loneliness they’d finally fought off.

Soon after, they were stood out in the bitter cold, each having ordered a separate Uber, but Harry broke the silence. He had tears in his eyes and he wasn’t sure where the emotion was coming from, probably a mixture of a few things, and his voice was barely above a whisper, but laced with sheer desperation.

“I know this is fake and you’re not actually in love with me, but please… It’s been s’long since anyone’s made love to me and I need it.. So bad.”

Her eyes flickered over to his, the streetlamps casting a glow over her face and causing her to appear even more beautiful than she had inside of the dimly lit pub. They hadn’t even so much as shared a kiss yet and he was proposing that they made love? It would probably sound crazy to any random passerby but the ache between her legs and in her chest made it clear that she needed it just as much as he did. The emptiness competing with the loneliness and if they could help each other out, shouldn’t they?

She nodded, pressing cancel on her Uber.

“Okay. Let’s get a room somewhere.”

One of the tears escaped his eye, sliding down his slightly flushed cheeks. He quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath, surprised and thankful that she’d said yes. Harry loved intimacy, he craved it all the time, but on a day that was always filled with so much love from him, the idea of going home completely alone was enough to wreck him. He was grateful for Y/N and her willingness to be his for the night. He needed this. Needed her.

He pressed cancel on his own Uber before pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Y’have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, love.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his midsection, “Need it just as bad as you do.”

Moments later, they pulled apart and he held his hand out to her to hold, to which she quickly obliged. The air was quickly growing even colder but their bodies still felt warm. They found a cheap hotel fairly quickly, going inside and getting a room. They stepped into the lift together, moving in more closely together. Both of them knew that this was probably a poor coping mechanism but in a twisted way, neither of them cared. They needed each other.

The room was almost stale when they finally walked in, a trace of cigarette smoke wafting through the thick air. The bed wasn’t huge and had a pattern on the covers that looked almost tacky. There was a random photo of a cow in a field above the bed which caused Harry to furrow his brows for a moment, wondering why the hell that was there… But they didn’t come for luxury.

Harry hardly even realised when Y/N stood in front of him, unbuttoning the rest of his white button down shirt. She was moving slowly, tantalisingly, and it was driving Harry crazy. He loved a good tease, but he just needed to feel her, taste her, be close to her.

He finished the job, quickly discarding shirt on the table beside them. He kicked his shoes off and it wasn’t long before his floral trousers were hung over the scratchy green desk chair and he was clad in only his underwear. He positioned himself behind Y/N, unzipping the back of the form-fitting, pale pink dress that clung to her body in all of the right places. It fell to the floor on it’s own and she stepped out of the pool of fabric that surrounded her feet, discarding of her heels in the same movement.

She turned back around to face Harry again, arms reaching around his neck, pulling him in close to her. One of her hands moved so she could play with the wispy curls at the nape of his neck that were ever so slightly still damp from the warmth of the pub and their dancing. She pressed her lips against his own, taking control of the situation. She could feel her wetness up against the fabric of her panties and she didn’t want to waste time.

She backed him up against the bed, causing him to land on his bum on the firm mattress. He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her even closer until she straddled his lap, legs resting bent on either side of him on the bed. One of his hands made its way to her face, holding onto it, deepening the kiss.

His other hand made its way to her bottom where he gave her a light squeeze, fingers gently leaving a trail as he moved toward her covered center. Once he reached her panties he could already feel the wetness seeping through and he let out a soft moan into her mouth, “So wet already, angel. ‘S all this f’me?”

His accent thickened in his heated haze, inhibitions falling away, and all he could focus on was her. He was so used to his ex but this new woman was so intriguing to him, her lips tasting so sweet yet the taste of lemon strong on her tongue from the drinks she’d had at the pub. Her skin was so soft against his own, he wanted to cover every inch of himself up with every inch of her and stay there forever, he thought.

But this wasn’t actually real. It was fleeting.

In between sloppy kisses against his mouth she told him, “Don’t wanna waste time, Harry. I need to feel you.”

He nodded, shifting so he could lay her on the bed, hovering over her frame. His forearms propped him up on either side of her head before he kissed her again, a desperation laced on his lips that hadn’t been so prevalent before. Their need for each other was becoming too strong, foreplay was out of the question, he just needed to be inside of her.

“Don’ think I have a condom, Y/N.”

“I’m on birth control, I’m clean. Are you?’

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Then I’m not worried about it. Just want you to make love to me.”

He kissed her neck, hands moving down her body like they’d touched her so many times before. He reached the waistband of her panties and tugged them down before slipping one finger into her heat and letting out a sharp breath. She felt so warm, wet, and tight around just his finger and he had no idea how he’d ever last when it was his cock inside of her instead.

She clumsily tried pulling his underwear off of him before he took over and removed them himself, not wanting to waste any more time. He was throbbing, precum leaking out of his raspberry tip, and it was almost making his head pound how needy he felt.

He removed his finger, lifting it and placing it against her tongue, watching as her cheeks hollowed around it and her eyes rolled back in pleasure. If it had been under any other circumstance that they were together, that would have been enough for him to fucking ruin her, but he wanted to make love to her. He wanted to be slow, passionate, caring.

He aligned himself with her entrance and pushed all the way in with one swift motion. She let out a few breathy moans, feeling her tightness stretch to make room for him. He kissed her softly, whispering in her ear how incredible she felt around him and how good he was gonna make sure she felt.

He thrusted his hips in and out of her, slowly but more deeply than she’d ever felt someone. She arched her back, body experiencing pure ecstasy. She could barely remember how to talk, only able to repeat his name over and over again. His face was nuzzled into her neck, heavy but short breaths falling from between his lips, pressing kisses against the soft skin every now and then when he could manage to.

“Jesus Christ, I love you.”

She nodded in response, trying hard to find the words to say back, “I… fuck, Harry, I love you too.”

As soon as the words fell from her mouth, her orgasm hit her hard and she began to clench around his cock. Her legs were shaky as wave after wave rolled through her body. She grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him, desperate to feel as intimate and connected with him as she possibly could.

That was enough to tip Harry over the edge as he met his release, spurting against her walls, her cunt still greedily squeezing out every drop that it could muster out of him. His body dropped on top of hers, but he was still careful not to give her his deadweight. He hadn’t felt so spent in ages and he didn’t want to do anything but snuggle up to this girl that just loved him in all of the ways he needed to be loved, wanting to radiate the warmth she’d given him back to her.

He rolled beside her, pulling her tight against him.

“Thank you. Wanna hold you for a while, ‘s that okay? Wanna end this properly. Might never feel this way again.”

She nodded, giving him a soft kiss, “You read my mind.”

They stayed cuddled up together, wrapped in blankets and afraid of what emotions would hit them full force when they finally said goodbye. They were exactly what the other person needed but they couldn’t rely on each other forever, they’d eventually have to deal with it head on, alone.

They fell asleep, wrapped up in one another. When morning hit, Harry got up to take a shower and get dressed, already feeling despair racking through his body. The clock beside the bed read that it was just after ten in the morning and they had to be out by eleven.

“Y/N? We’ve gotta leave soon…”

His voice was gentle as he nudged her shoulder carefully. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him, nodding in acknowledgement before she got out of the bed.

“‘M gonna take a shower. I’ll hurry so that you can too.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

He walked into the bathroom, still naked from the night before. He stepped under the hot streams of water, allowing them to wash over his body and distract his mind for a last few moments of peace. He wasn’t ready to face the day alone, didn’t feel ready to say goodbye to his last night love, and had no idea where he’d go from here, or what he’d do.

Y/N felt the same way, but the pain was too much for her to bear. She quickly got herself dressed, leaving him a note to find once he was out of the shower. Tears filled her eyes as she walked out the door and made her way back to her empty flat.

Both of them were broken, thankful that they had at least one night where they could feel whole, even if it made the following days feel that much harder.

Once Harry was done showering and found the note, he stared at it for so long he lost track of time.

Sorry but I had to go. You’re incredible. Thank you for everything. I hope you find your peace. Love you. Xx

As he walked out of the front doors of the hotel he whispered, “Love you.”

Maybe they’d never love again but at least they always had last night to hold onto.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #226

“i couldn't take my eyes off her, but that's not what i took off that night.”

So, how are you doing today? I'm mostly fine, I guess. I'm sooooo sleep-deprived from these damn night terrors, so it has me pretty moody. Then I'm bummed as all fuckhell that Sara and I can't be together on our anniversary. What is the last song that you had on repeat? I think it waaaas... "Idiosyncrasy" (it took me five million attempts to spell that right) by Korn. Are you a hedonist/masochist/in between? Neither. The best musical performance you’ve been to? I've only ever seen Alice Cooper, but it was WICKED. He did his signature decapitation illusion (how the fuck does that even work??), and the last song (it was a fucking amazing cover of "Another Brick In The Wall") had INCREDIBLE theatrics. I loved it. Who is your favorite drummer? *shrugs* Your favorite guitarist? Idk, really. Maybe Zakk Wylde. A vocalist with the best voice? Freddie Mercury's voice is so versatile and chill-inducing, Amy Lee is an obvious answer, Patrick Stump's voice is just so goddamn sexy, as is Brendon Urie's, as well as wide in vocal range. Do you have a band yourself? Maaaan, that'd be dope. But no. Do you write poetry or song lyrics? I used to write poems aaaaaall the time (y'know, the "I'm 14 and this is deep" kind), and I've actually really wanted to for a while now, but idk about what. Plus my word-weaving capability has drastically declined, so all I'd do is get mad. Your best memories: Meeting Sara, SARA'S FUCKING FACE WHEN SHE SAW ME IN HER BEDROOM ON HER LAST BIRTHDAY OH MY FUCKING GOD, a novel of things with Jason, seeing meerkats at the zoo for the first time, THE DAY GOD NOTICED ME THROUGH A GIF I WORKED WAY TOO HARD ON (I couldn't sleep for three days, and I wish I was kidding), uhhhh. A lot. Your worst memories: The night of the breakup, absolutely and entirely. Nothing compares. It was a slow, paralyzing trauma (don't get pissy about me using that word "as an exaggeration," it was diagnosed as such years ago) that entirely put me into an actual state of shock. I wish that night on absolutely nobody. No one. Funniest thing you've ever seen an animal do? Maaaaan, I could tell you a lot. Probably inarguably the funniest was Ginger (ex's beagle) WITHOUT FAIL losing her shit with jealousy or SOMETHING whenever she noticed Jason and I were doing anything that involved affection without her. That dog would LOSE IT with barking, tail wagging, and climbing all over him, and it was never not funny to see this fatass little dog turn into a living cockblock lmfao. OH YEAH then our late boxer Cali could be baited into howling if you did it sometimes. It was so, so cute. She'd always look so confused but do it anyway. I'm sure there're others; I've grown up with pets my whole life, but those are the only two that come to me now. What is on your mind? I wanna see Sara. Could you ever cheat on your significant other? I physically couldn't stand myself if I ever did. No. Ever been so disgraced that you had homicidal thoughts? Wow no. If so, whom did you wish to assassin? I mean I've talked about Ashley (not my sister) before, but they weren't seriously "homicidal." I wasn't going to actually do anything. If you wish to be famous, what would you want to be famous for? I don't wish it, but let's say I was. Some form of artist. ... Wait, I do want that. Errrmmm OH! A serious wildlife conservator. Do you think humanity is going downhill? Duh. What was the last thing you threw at someone? I have no clue. Do you ever want to be prom queen/king? I didn't care. Have you ever ran from the police? I'd prefer to stay out of jail. Are you afraid of clowns? No. Have you ever written on someone’s face in your yearbook? Ha ha yeeeaaah... When was the last time you made dinner? me?????? cook????????????? huh?????????????? Do you have any special plans coming up? I'm shooting my sister's gender reveal Sunday. :') Ash and her husband don't know the gender, so I am so fucking excited to see their reactions. Who do you want to be buried next to? Please don't bury me and just take up space. Cremate me and scatter the ashes somewhere, or do SOMETHING meaningful and creative. What is your favorite fish? Like... to eat? I haven't tried very much, but I liked striper forever and ever ago. If you mean visually, probably betta fish. Have you ever won a gold medal? Probably with kid stuff. Do you have any trophies? Also as a kid for A honor roll, as well as dance and sports overall. Do you work out? Oops no. When you introduce yourself, do you give hand shakes? It depends on who I'm talking to. Is there a limit to how many best friends you have? No? Do you have any hickeys on you? Bitch a girl can wish. Do you have the strength to say goodbye forever? Been there, finally done that. Will you talk to the person you like tonight? I talk to her every day throughout the day. Who did you last share a bed with? Sara. Who do you go to when you need to talk to someone? Sara or Mom. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No. What are you listening to right now? I'm not actually listening to anything, but "Gypsy" by Fleetwood Mac is BURIED into my head rn. What do you like better: hot chocolate or hot apple cider? I've never tried to latter actually, but I'd probably still prefer hot chocolate, anyway. Do you make wishes at 11:11? No; I don't believe in that stuff. I have a friend who posts JUST "11:11 <3" or something like that every night on FB, and while it shouldn't, it annoys the fuck out of me. No one cares. Ever been on a golf cart? Yeah. Do you get blizzards where you live? No, never to the point where "blizzard" fits. What’s a biblical truth that you struggle with? lmao When was the last time you did something rebellious? *shrugs* Do you rebel against God a lot? I can genuinely say I don't give a fuck if I do or don't. Do you consider yourself creative? Very. What’s an old hobby that you want to pick back up? Sigh, reading. Do you ever read books to a pet? No. That seems without real purpose... and this is coming from me, an animal worshiper, just about. Like, you know they genuinely have no clue what you're saying or doing, and I highly doubt they're gonna stay still and look at the pictures. Do you have any pets? Two dogs, a cat, a rat, and a snake. What was the theme of your childhood bedroom? It didn't have a set theme. Partially because I grew up with the same room as my little sister, and we had very different interests. What color was your nursery as a baby? I have zero clue. Did I even have a proper nursery??? What was the last surgery you had? Getting a cyst above my asscrack removed lmaoooo. What’s something you prefer to keep private? Sexual history. I am very, very shy talking about that kind of stuff. Who is someone you look up to? *sobs "fischfuck" at the top of my lungs* As a child, did you have people you admired? STEVE IRWIN WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY EMOTIONAL DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Are you good at prioritizing? Eek... I'm unsure, to be honest. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? fuckin' Halloween hoe. Which holiday or season has the best decorations in stores? Soooo Halloween decor=room decor for me tbh lol. Who’s the prettiest YouTuber you watch? She doesn't have her own active YT channel anymore, but Suzy Hanson (GameGrumps' Arin's wife) is a fucking goddess. Oh, and while I've never watched her channel, I've seen Hannah Hart on GMM quite a few times, and she's actually one of my first signals that I wasn't straight because I definitely felt attracted to how naturally beautiful she is. What’s the most shocking thing that’s occurred in your life lately? Finding out my grandma has terminal cancer. How’s the weather been at your part of the world in the past week? It's been fucking hot. Thursday was the hottest October day in NC history, peaking at 100. Disgoostiiiiiing. Have you given something up recently? (for ex., candy, red meat etc.) Uhhhh well, this is semi-recently, I guess: I entirely stopped going to Chick-fil-a in protest of higher-ranking business employees or whatever supporting/making donations to anti-LGBT cults, especially conversion "therapy." What’s the worst thing about autumn? "How fleeting it is. I never feel like I get properly immersed in the experience. I blink and the leaves are gone and Thanksgiving is here and Christmas is right around the corner." <<< Perfect description. What is something you enjoy doing, even if you’re not very good at it? Drawing portraits, maybe. Do you work hard for your money? I don't have a job, never have had a stable one. However, on the occasion I'm hired to take pictures, I. Try. Really. Hard. What’s a song that most people interpret entirely wrong? "Mama I'm Coming Home" by Ozzy Osbourne was first to come to mind; reasonably, people tend to think the song is about his mother, but it's rather about his wife. Calling your wife that is apparently some English petname. When’s the last time you had cake? Wow, idk, actually. I think my niece mighta had some for her birthday in June? I know my nephew had cupcakes. Yeah, I think it was her b-day. Have you ever made your own soda from scratch? I have not. How about your own jam? No. Or pickled something? No. Did you grow anything in your garden this year? No, we don't have one. Or did someone give you something they grew in theirs? No. What’s the most romantic gift anyone’s given to you? Uhhhhhhhhhh idk. Do you like woolly socks? If so, do you ever make your own? NO, especially when you put sneakers over them or something. They feel so constricted. Do you have a laptop or desktop computer? A laptop that needs to be replaced, gah. Or fixed. I have a pure black crack and blob stretching across the left side of my screen that is super distracting and obscuring, and the right side of the top half is cracked along the side; I have duct tape to help keep it closed. Otherwise it's a fine laptop, though. Oh wait, and the apostrophe key is missing, so I have to hit the plastic pressure thingy that's easy to miss. Do you watch America’s Got Talent? No. If so, who has been your favorite contestant on AGT? My favorite ever was Landau Eugene Murphy Jr. Still have some of his covers on my iPod. Prince Poppycock is also my gay uncle that I would die for. What chore are you behind on? I need to dust my room good lort. Have you ever broken your phone screen? No, actually. Have you ever broke your computer screen? Well, refer to earlier question. I don't know if it's technically "broke," just damaged (it's not an actual scratch, btw; it's beyond the exterior screen). I need to take it somewhere to fix it ahhhhh. What department store do you shop at the most? Wal-Mart. Do you normally use the self-checkout or the regular checkout? Depends on how much we have. If it's just a handful or so, we just go do it ourselves. Which friend will be in your heart no matter what happens between you two? Sara, Megan. What is your most severe allergy? Pollen. Have you ever been kicked out of a store? No. OH SHIT NO WAIT, I THINK a friend and I may have wandered into Spencer's once when we were "too young." Or maybe we just got ID'd. Idk, idr. What was the stupidest mistake of your life? Turning a person into my sole source of "real" happiness, giving my entire soul to a flawed human being, being naive about love, all that jazz. Have you ever unfriended a sibling on social media? Well, she unfriended me. We're friends again now tho I think I pissed her off again. Oops. Do you watch Niki and Gabi on YouTube? If yes, which twin is your favorite: Niki or Gabi? I've heard of 'em, but don't know anything about/watch them. What was your favorite book you had to read for school? The Outsiders. The Handmaid's Tale is now right behind it. What do you want for your birthday this year? My '19 birthday has already passed, but if you mean like, my next one, idk. Maybe a new phone considering mine is GODawful with so many problems. Alllllthough I'm entirely aware I'll be putting a tattoo first, so... it depends on what I have, ha ha. Do you like rock music? Yep. What is the most beautiful landscape you have ever seen? MOUNTAINS!!!!!!!!!! What do you usually take for headaches? Advil/Ibuprofen. Have you ever switched doctors because of mistreatment? Or moreso carelessness and immeasurable ignorance masked by over-confidence. Do you film or record your doctor’s appointments? ??????????????????????????????? Can you even do that?????????????????? Which accomplishment are you most proud of yourself for? So, this kinda depends. I'm most likely to say "recovery," but I honestly give almost all credit to my psychiatrist and therapists. So I don't usually see *me* as playing a big role in it. Idk. So other days I'll say way more confidently graduating in the top 10% of the graduating class as a senior. Do you feel like you’ve accomplished anything yet with your life? Well yeah. What is your favorite medication that you take, and why? The combination I take of Vraylar + Lamictal due to how they interact and being massively responsible for me being stable. What is your favorite vitamin, and why? Do people???????????? have fave vitamins????????????????? List 5 people you know who have never been mean to you. Uh. I think Connie is it out of the people I know well/have known for a long time, lol. Would you rather do a craft project or a science experiment? s c i e n c e b i t c h Do you say garbage, trash, rubbish, or something else? "Trash," usually. Which Bratz doll was your favorite? I didn't have a favorite. Which Barbie doll was your favorite? ^ Which American Girl doll was your favorite? I don't remember. Do you decorate Mason jars? No, but I find them veeeeeery pretty when decorated well. What color band and stone does your class ring have? I didn't get one. Can you see the mountains from where you live? No, I wish... What is your favorite Lisa Frank character? angel!!!!!!!!!!!! KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you believe in the power of prayer? Not in the slightest. What color eyes does the person you like/love have? Are they pretty? A beautiful brown. Obviously if I call them beautiful. What was the first television show you were obsessed with? Pokemon cries. I never really like... showed just how much though. Looking back on when I was a kid, I took embarrassment poorly even then. Other girls thought I was weird for bringing a Psyduck plushy with me to school everyday, everyone in pre-k looked at me like "huh" when I brought my little Snorlax plush in for show-and-tell, I came to a point of only watching it when my sister was asleep, I was too scared to ask for the games, and- jfc okay I'm actually realizing I need to go back to therapy to talk about how deep my AvPD truly is rooted oops lmao. Do you eat chili when you get a hot dog, or do you like it plain? Chili is disgusting. Have you ever disowned anyone in your family? For what reasons? No. Is there anyone out there who has hurt you so much, you wish they’d die? No. Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. How many times have you been drunk in your life? None got to the point of me feeling *actually* drunk. I've only ever been tipsy. When was the last time you acted really immature? *shrugs* Can you rely on one or more people to take up for you? Yeah, a few. When is the last time you sat around a campfire? I don't have a clue. Is there an important event coming up at your school? I think? It's some event all freshmen have to attend to all damn day and I'm not looking forward to it. It's for a good cause, but. It's gonna be a drag and I've had two incidents this school year of once collapsing and just last week almost fainting and vomiting just from the heat. Do you have a back-up career choice? What is it? Something with writing, I guess. Well, I ideally want to be a professional photographer but also a zoologist, but if photography goes absurdly well (this is incredibly unlikely, I know, but it's doable), I may not aim for a zoologist career, but get the necessary degree for it as back-up. I want an unquestionably stable back-up choice. My minor is Journalism, so like I mentioned up top, yeah, if things really go shitty, something in writing is an option. Would you ever get caught with a fake ID? No. Do you think religion justifies treating people unequally? I don't see the supposed "rationality" in this at all. No. Are men more attractive with longer or shorter hair? I guess it depends on the person, but I think I'm generally more attracted to men with longer hair. What color was the ink of the last pen you used? Black. Is there a name that you hear and cringe? I can't really say "cringe," but without fail, it's obvious who and what I think of the moment I hear the name "Jason," and it always causes this dull pain in my chest. What color are your dad’s eyes? They're dark brown. When you were a kid, was there a boy/girl that you said you were going to marry? No. Is your favourite TV show very popular? That '70s Show is, and Fullmetal Alchemist is among anime fans, at least. I don't think too many people know about Meerkat Manor, but I know it was and possibly still is Animal Planet's highest-grossing series, so it sure was big for viewers of that channel. What are you absolutely determined to do? Become at least a semi-successful photographer, make a great life with Sara, support my mom one day like she always has me, mostly overcome anxiety, photograph and touch a habituated meerkat of the KMP... a handful of things. Where would you rather be from? Somewhere in the U.S. that's not a homophobic, racist, gun-fucking, Bible-thumping cesspit of closed-minded shits. I love NC. How often do you play sports? Never. What website do you visit most often? YouTube. What do you wish you knew more about? Politics. What are some things you’ve had to unlearn? I stopped this as a young teenager, but I know I was one of those kids who used "retarded" as a substitute for "stupid." I absolutely hate that shit. I also had to unlearn uhhhh... man, I know there's a lot, I'm just blanking right now. What TV channel doesn’t exist but really should? *shrug* Where is the most interesting place you’ve been? Interesting to me personally, Chicago. Cities that massive are foreign to me. What fad or trend do you hope comes back? Scene fashion was art, don't @ me. What’s the best way to start the day? SLEEPY CUDDLES W/ YOUR S/O. What kind of art do you enjoy most? Man, idk. I love art so much. What have you only recently formed an opinion about? That's a good question. What is the most heartwarming thing you’ve ever seen? Literally today/yesterday when I watched the secret stream Mark did of gathering viewers to anonymously destroy random but small Twitch streamers' charity goals & he was too motivated and inspiring & everyone was so fucking confused but thankful and it was literally the most inarguably Chaotic Good thing I have ever borne witness to. For three hours I couldn't stop fucking smiling. What’s something you like to do the old-fashioned way? Hell if I know. Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? lol guess How do you relax after a hard day of work? I don't work. What TV show or movie do you refuse to watch? TV show? 13 Reasons Why is a hell no. The Human Centipede I wouldn't watch over my dead fucking body. Where would you spend all your time if you could? All my time? Idk. What’s the best way a person can spend their time? Improving the world. What’s the most interesting piece of art you’ve seen? I couldn't even try to answer that question. What’s worth spending more on to get the best? I dunno, probably a lot. Maybe food? Ensure it's safe, at least. What is the luckiest thing that has happened to you? Not flipping over in the wreck we got in when I was a kid, probably. All factors of it considered, we were told flipping would have been far more likely than my mom managing to keep us on four wheels. What are some small things that make your day better? Multiple things. Sara feeling positive, I'm fucking awful so having a yummy soda gives me a measly drop of Serotonin, I love seeing Venus come out of her rock to wander around, finding a new song to become utterly addicted to is great, cool weather outside... things like that. I'm sure there's more. What one thing do you really want but can’t afford? REALLY want? A trip to South Africa. What are you interested in that most people haven’t heard of? Uhhh idk. Otep, I suppose. As a band, anyway. She's actually the QUEEN of bigoted bitches. Why did you decide to do the work you are doing now? N/A What’s something you’ve been meaning to try but just haven’t gotten around to? Oh, idk. If all jobs had the same pay and hours, what job would you like to have? Still a photographer. Have you ever saved someone’s life? No. What’s the hardest lesson you’ve learned? People can tell you they'll always be there and still leave in the blink of an eye. What’s something you are self-conscious about? Unconventional interests/hobbies and my body. Have you ever given to any charities? Yes. What was the best compliment you’ve received? Idk. What’s the most immature thing that you do? Not gonna lie, I can act bratty if I don't get something I SERIOUSLY want. Which of your scars has the best story behind it? None, really. What have you created that you are most proud of? A novel of very developed and deep RP characters over the years. What do you regret not doing or starting when you were younger? Learning German. As you get older, what are you becoming more and more afraid of? Mom dying. Being independent. In what situation or place would you feel the most out of place in? Most out of place? Would, like not one I've actually experienced? Uhhh idk. An orgy lmao.

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