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#those are the two that are stuck in my head that I’m going to draw but I don’t know which one is calling to me more
evast · 6 months
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Wouldn’t it be messed up if I drew the “is she your favorite” scene before I drew the “I can’t tell if it’s alright or not anymore” scene
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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months
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Eucteniza relata
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Summary: After catching Miguel in the act, you realize you’re trapped in his web. Miguel, tired of your smart mouth and disobedience, has a bone to pick with you.
Content warnings: dub-con humiliation, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, faux!vampire!Miguel because I’m obsessed
AN: This man is an asshole, y’all. Yummy. This is also so so nasty. Did anyone watch The Invitation?? Remember the scene with the door? Those that get it, get it. Anyways, I hope y’all like it! Oops and before I forget, there will be a third and final part. See ya!
Taglist: @quaintii @sunflowercandie @villainarc-2 @battinsonwhore05 @friendly-reject @baker-and-fangirl @cynicallyaestetic @alnmpt
MDNI
This is the second part to Ctenizidae! Check it out here if you haven’t read it yet: Part 1
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Miguel lifts you up, holding your hips in his hands. He trails his fangs from the base of your neck to that sensitive spot right beneath your ear lobe.
He bites down gently, just enough to draw both blood and a whimper out of you. He tugs your hair back so he can do want he wants without interference, kissing and sucking and biting as he pleases, paying no mind to your choked-back moans.
When he’s had enough, he moves to whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
“You know, I’ve had just about enough of that mouth of yours—“
“My m-mouth has done nothing to you.” Miguel grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together, making all your words slur together.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he groans, his head tilting upwards in exasperation. “You never know when to shut up, you always have something to say.”
You glare at him. You want to say something, but then you’d prove his point. He continues, sparing no attention to your restraint. Rude. Well then, if he’s just going to ignore you anyways, why bother?
“Y’know I have a reputation to uphold—“
“That sounds like a personal problem.” He glares at you, and you remember the position he has you in. Caged in between him and the wall, stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“It’s about to be your problem.” He lifts you easily over his shoulder and carries you across the room, dumping you unceremoniously onto the bed. “I think you need to be taught a lesson.”
As he sits down, you scramble over to the head of the bed, but Miguel grabs your ankle and yanks you back.
“Oh no, you don’t get to run. C’mere.” He manhandles you over his lap. You struggle against him, but it only works against you, like a spider’s prey working itself deeper into the web. Miguel is relentless and patient. He holds you down with one hand, waiting until you tire yourself out.
“Are you ready now?” At your silence, he continues. “Here’s what you’re gonna do: you’re going to take this spanking, like a good girl. And afterwards, you’re gonna say thank you.”
“This is ridiculous—“ You hissed after Miguel slapped your thighs, one after another in quick succession.
“I wasn’t finished. Be quiet.” He rubs the warmed skin gently before continuing. “You really have a problem with talking back. I think being on your knees will fix that. But first—“
He peels off your jeans but leaves your underwear, just enough that you ass was fully exposed. You feel like a schoolgirl getting paddled in the principal’s office. It is humiliating.
He groans, deep and guttural as he gropes your ass. “Dios mío, este culo.”
“Wait, hold on—“ He doesn’t. He strikes your right cheek, then your left. He does it over and over, in the same spot. He doesn’t stop, not when you arch your back, nor when you’re flailing your legs or even when your soft cries turn into low moans. “I can’t, Miguel. Please.”
He pauses. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying yourself, princesa.” He squeezes in-between your thighs and drags his two middle fingers across your slit. “Not when the evidence is dripping from your thighs.”
He shows you just how you enjoyed his attention by shoving his fingers into your mouth.
“Suck.” He fucks your throat with his long, thick fingers, making you gag and drool around them. “Good girl. Now I’m going to give you something bigger to choke on. Get on your knees.”
“No, Miguel. If you think I’m going to suck your dick like this, you’re insane.” You refuse adamantly.
“You just love to argue, huh baby?” Miguel just shakes his head. “Or maybe you just like being forced to do what you’re told. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”
He manhandles you once more, rearranging you until just your head hangs off of the bed. “I know just what you need.”
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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My Tears Ricochet (Matthew Sturniolo)
contains: verbal argument, cheating allegations, crying, breakup, no happy ending, 1.5k words
a/n: honestly i'm sorry for this one. ouch. i said it alr but im not doing a part 2 for this one b/c i don't wanna lmao, the song is how writing this made me feel lol, requested by @nicksmainbitch and i took parts of an anon request
“We need to talk.”
I look down and study the message for maybe the hundredth time since Matt sent it an hour ago. Taking a deep steading breath, I kill my car engine and finally open the door. I’ve been sitting in his driveway for ten minutes now and it’s getting pathetic but I couldn’t help it. There’s nothing I hate more than a cryptic message, especially from Matt.
I use my key to let myself in the house, kicking off my shoes at the entrance, and pause when I notice how quiet it seems. Either Nick and Chris aren’t here or something is very wrong but my gut is leaning towards both. I pull out my phone to check their location but my heart drops when I realize all three of them aren’t showing up on Find My Friends.
Okay. It’s fine. Probably just a glitch. It has to be. I take the stairs two at a time and rush into Matt’s room, finding him with his head down at his desk.
“Matt?” I say quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder that he immediately jerks away from like I’ve burned him.
He lifts his head, spinning the chair around my way, and the look he gives me is like a stab to the heart. Because in all the years I’ve known Matt, in all the years I’ve loved him, he’s never looked at me like he’s looking at me now. Like he can see right through me. Like I’m no one at all to him.
“How long?” He asks calmly, his voice like a brewing storm. “Just tell me that. How long have I been a fucking idiot for?”
I stare back at him silently for a minute, caught between confusion and indignation. “What are you talking about?”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head before he tilts it up to the ceiling. “Listen. Tell me the truth. If you tell me the truth, I can try…” He stops and clears his throat like the words have jammed there. “I love you enough to try to get over it. But, if you lie-”
“What the fuck are you accusing me of, Matthew?” I snap, cutting him off. I feel the anger rising in my chest and blink away the hot tears that are beginning to gather. If Matt and I had one thing going for us, it was trust. We’ve never touched each other’s phones, never questioned stories. We just believed in our bond. But I can feel that trust starting to crumble around us and I don’t know what to do.
Matt grabs his phone from the desk and thrusts it into my hands. “Here. Your side piece must have gotten tired of waiting.”
I look down and skim the drama page he has pulled up, my jaw going slack. Someone has been sending in “proof” that I’ve been cheating on him. There are text messages with time stamps and they’ve even included pictures of me sleeping.
I look back at Matt and find him watching my reaction with his eyes low. “These are obviously fake-” I start but Matt stands up and walks past me to his closet.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought too. Until I saw the pictures. Go ahead and tell me that’s not your tattoo.” He’s breathing heavily now and I can tell he’s trying not to cry. “One more chance. Tell me the truth. Did you fuck him?”
“Matt. Please.” I walk over to him and spin him around to face me, feeling his body tense against my touch. “You know me better than this.”
I step closer and draw him to me, wrapping my arms around his waist, and he lets me. He buries his head in my hair and breaks down. Deep body wracking sobs. So I just hold him, not knowing what to do or say. I can’t prove I didn’t send a message and I have no idea where those pictures came from or how to show him they must be old. So I’m stuck.
When he finally calms down, he pulls away from me and walks back to the desk. He drops down and slouches, defeated. “Oh my god.” His face is contorted with pain and I’m not sure if his expression or words make me sicker. “I thought you were the one.”
I stand there helpless for a minute, tears streaming down my face before I finally speak. “I can’t make you believe me. You gotta do that on your own.”
When he says nothing, I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and gather up my belongings. Before I turn to leave, I yank his house key off my chain and place it on his desk without meeting his eyes. As soon as I put my hand on the doorknob, I want to fall to my knees and cry but I push down the feeling and swing the door open.
I wait for him to say something, anything when I leave. I wait for it all the way down the stairs. I’m still expecting it when I reach my car, and I pause and listen for him to chase after me, to fight.
But he doesn’t so I drive home, drop into my bed and cry. And when he still doesn’t the next day or the next, I force myself to get up and figure out a new normal.
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It’s unusually cold for Los Angeles the night he comes, two months later. When I hear his voice spill through the callbox, it takes everything I have not to let my knees buckle. I’ve spent every day of the last couple of months trying to avoid hearing it at all costs.
He speaks again, begging to be let in and I buzz him up without thinking. I run to throw on some sweatpants and then stand with my arms crossed, trying to prepare myself to see his face.
It doesn’t work. Matt walks through the door like a wrecking ball and I’m caught in his wake. He stands awkwardly near the door, shifting from foot to foot.
“What are you doing here, Matt?” My voice sounds exhausted even to me. All the work I’ve done putting myself back together and here he comes toppling me over again.
“I just…” He trails off and begins pacing. “It was your ex. That fucking loser. The picture was old and he-”
“I know.”
“-fucking edited those texts. The motherfucker hit me up trying to-” He pauses finally registering what I said. “What do you mean you know?”
“He called me a few days after we broke up trying to get back together and I finally remembered the picture,” I say, not letting myself look away like I’m dying to.
Matt freezes at this, staring at me in disbelief, before he pulls out a chair from the table and flops down. “But… why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“How did you expect me to do that? Go to Apple headquarters and ask them to unblock me? Email Laura?” I seethe.
“You could've come over. You should have! It changes everything-”
“It changed nothing for me. I already knew I didn’t fucking cheat on you.” My voice cracks slightly but I shake my head. If my mom taught me one thing, it’s to never cry over a boy to his face.
Matt says my name so softly I almost don’t hear it and I cut my eyes back to his. “What do you want me to do? I will do whatever you need to fix this.”
I huff out a humorless laugh at how much I wanted those words and how empty they sound now. “You don’t get to do this to me.”
“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go.” He says and I believe him. I don’t think he’d even hesitate.
“I can’t.” Matt stands and advances quickly toward me but I stop him with a hand on his chest. “But, it doesn’t matter. I don’t trust you.”
He winces, clenching his jaw. "I thought you fucking cheated on me! I thought you were throwing everything away.”
“So you threw it away first.”
He raises his voice now, anger and conviction mixing in his tone. “No! I thought all of that and I was still going to stay. That’s how much I wanted you. That’s how much I love you.”
“Then that’s the difference between me and you.” I breathe out a shaky breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t think that’s love at all.”
His breathing stutters as he moves backward, studying my face. “So that’s it?”
I force myself to shrug. “I think it’s been it. Since the day I walked out of your house crying and you let me.”
He nods again slowly, whispering a quiet "I'm sorry", before turning and heading for the exit. But before he leaves, Matt pauses looking over his shoulder. “Do you think we got this right somewhere in the multiverse?”
I smile weakly, blinking back my tears. “God, I hope so.”
He returns my smile with a sad one of his own before he opens the door and steps out of my apartment for the last time.
When the door clicks shut, I hold my breath and count to five until I’m sure he’s far enough away. Then I let go, dropping to my knees and finally letting myself fall apart.
taglist:
@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos
@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper
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ssavaart · 4 months
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Sometimes You Have to Make 100 BAD Drawings To Get 1 GOOD One
(Earlier this year, a publisher asked me if I'd be interested in writing a book on art. As we discussed it... they asked me to "give it a try" and this is one of two tests I did. I don't consider myself a writer, really, so this is just "in my own voice". I wound up turning down the offer... but would love to know your thoughts on this. Thanks)
Drawing something good. Something you like. It’s… elusive. Especially when you’re just starting out.
But, here’s the thing. You have good art in you. I promise. You just have to get to it and it’s stuck under a bunch of bad art. Really bad art.
When I was younger, I would draw every day. Filling up sketchbooks with doodles and sketches and I hated ALL of them.
Page 01: Crap
Page 02: Crap
Page 03: Crap
Page 04: Worse than Crap
Page 05: What even is that?
Page 06: Ugh
And it was just downhill from there…
But… somewhere around like page 100… I made something that… “wasn’t crap”. I actually didn’t hate it.
And that gave me courage to keep going. That one drawing made it all worth it. I was cured. I was now an expert. All of my art would be great from now on.
Oh… if only.
The next drawing was worse than any other drawing before it.
How??? I just made ART! like 5 minutes before that. I got all the bad drawings out! How did my art just go from Van Gogh to Van NO???
Honestly? I… got lucky. That one good drawing? Total fluke. Dumb luck. Sheer Happenstance.
Doing 100 drawings didn’t suddenly make me an expert. It couldn’t.
Have you ever heard of the saying “If a million monkeys type on a million typewriters for a million years, they’ll eventually write Shakespeare”?
I was those monkeys and that drawing was my Shakespeare.
I just pooped out enough bad art that eventually sheer luck was going to mean I may make something really good.
And I’m TOTALLY okay with that. I was 11. I’m not a prodigy. I don’t have any special gifts. But what I did have was… a taste for how making good art felt.
Seeing that one good drawing made me want more. Like my first time tasting chocolate ice cream. I was hooked.
So, I made 100 more bad drawings. Maybe more. And, guess what? ANOTHER great drawing emerged!
Another Shakespeare from this 11 year old monkey!!!! Huzzah!
From then on… I knew that all I had to do was keep banging away at that typewriter (I’m still on the million monkey thing… bear with me) and I would get rewarded with another masterpiece.
Week after week. Month after month. I would fill up my sketchbooks with the most horrific, amateurish, incomprehensible art… and, sure enough, 1 of every 100 drawings would not suck.
I would show it to my mom and she would say “Oh! That’s wonderful!” and when she tried to turn the pages to see more, I would quickly SNATCH it out of her hands and run back into the shadows like Gollum hiding his “Precious” from prying eyes.
I dare not let her see the monstrosities that came before the work of genius.
And… this went on. For years. Predictably. Rhythmically.
Until, one day… my 75th drawing was really good.
How? It was 25 drawings early! That’s not how it was supposed to work. That wasn’t the plan.
But there it was. A really amazing drawing of a spaceship I came up with out of my head. It had lasers and a cockpit and wings and…It was glorious. And it was totally unexpected.
Maybe NOW I was an expert and I no longer needed to make bad art? Would today be the day I would only make masterpieces?
I quickly turned the page and began to draw what would soon be my second greatest work of art and… NOPE.
Still crap.
Hm. But… something was different. It was still crap. But… it wasn’t as “crappy” as the other crap.
I grabbed my previous sketchbooks and looked at the bad drawings from previous years and… guess what? My older bad drawings were WORSE than my newer bad drawings!
Apparently, the more I drew… the better my BAD drawings got too.   
Okay. So. I drew 75 more “not as crappy” bad drawings and… predictably… I made another great drawing!
I was… IMPROVING.
This went on for years. I went to high school. Then art school. I hated MOST of my art… but as I practiced… the number of BAD art I had to make to get to the GOOD art got lower and lower. Soon it was 50 bad pieces for 1 good one. Then 25. Then 10.
It took decades when I noticed… I liked my art more often than not.
It was a complete surprise. I was in my 40’s when this happened. I was SO conditioned to just accept I was going to hate my art that I hadn’t noticed that I had made 5 paintings that didn’t suck. IN A ROW!!!
Unheard of!
But, there it was. 5 good paintings. One right after the other.
The 6th one was complete trash. Tossed it in the garbage.
But, the 7th one? I liked. And the 8th. And the 9th.
I’m now 54 and I know I still have SO much bad art in me. I can feel it. Always ready to pop up and ruin my day.
But, I “pooped out” so much bad art over the years that I’m not really worried about those pop up bad art surprises. I know it’s just temporary.
I like my art now. And that’s because I got MOST of the bad art out of me and into those old sketchbooks.
I know it may seem daunting doing 100 bad drawings just to get to 1 good one. But… if you love that feeling of making that one GOOD piece of art… you need to be patient and get the bad ones out. They’re blocking the good ones. Keeping them deep inside you.
So, crack open that sketchbook. Poop out those bad pieces of art and never look back.
You’ll thank me in like 40 years or so. I promise.
(Oh. And sorry for all the poop references. I’m still that 11 year old when it comes to humor)
Poop.
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aseaofyoongi · 1 year
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behind pixels: sequel | jjk
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jeon jungkook x reader (f)
genre: sex worker au (jk)
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: after visiting a certain little app where a guy assisted you during a very stressful night, you realize the man is closer to you than you think.
warnings: not another continuation to a college au. . yes, yes it is; a bit of fluff, a but of smut; wetdreams-ish; masturbation; clitorial stimulation; fingering; in a public location… if you know what i mean; penetrative sex; unprotected sex; oc is a bit insecure; crush culture; i think that’s it honestly
word count: 12.7 thousand words
posted: may 13, 2023
notable songs: self control - frank ocean | love is only a feeling - joey bad$$ | day dream - destin conrad | fire in the sky - anderson paak
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It’s been two weeks.
An entire fourteen days since you were blessed with JK’s instructions as assistance to a night of relief from a collection of frustrating days.
The night when his thunderous voice soothingly lead you towards the most delicious orgasm you’ve experienced. Days after that very event you found yourself dwelling in the fanasities he had communicated from the other side of the screen — dusting off the records stored deep in your brain. All you wanted, all you craved was his voice, his attention, and the one thing you had not been able to experience yet, his touch.
After locking your dorm room door, you removed you shirt and shorts before plopping down on your cotton bed sheets. Your eyes were shut tightly blocking out the brightness from the lamp on the nightstand, with the constant linger of JK in your head your hand began traveling lower until it finally pushed past the hem of your panties. The feeling of your fingertips against your clit sent bolts of electricity en route down your back. You began, working towards that same finish line you’d once crossed when talking to JK on Eargasm. But it wasn’t the same, it’s like you were on that same road you once were but your destination moved farther and farther into the horizon.
Still, with beads of sweat streaming down your temples and with your right hand going numb you continued to rub circles against the sensitive bud in-between your folds.
“Come on, come on,” you huffed as your already muggy dorm became hotter and hotter.
But it wasn’t working — It was useless. Your fingers were useless.
“Doll,” you heard his voice from across the room.
“JK?” your eyes flew open envisioning the man you’ve only spoken to from behind your computer screen. You weren’t sure why but it was so hard to draw the connection between the two of them. There was JK, the man who helped you just a few nights ago with his alluring utters. Then, there was him, still JK only he was the boy who sat behind the front desk in the student center with his nose constantly stuck behind a book. They were the same person but they couldn’t be any more different.
Standing at completely different ends of the road. One became the personification of all of your carnal desires, while the other hid behind a clear shell unbeknownst to the effects his beauty had on you, on all of those around him.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, dazed by the fact that he was here. . in your dorm and you were semi naked in his presence yet again, “how did you find out where I live? How did you get in?”
“Don’t worry doll,” he still wore the black mask he wore when he was on camera with you but you could tell by the way his eyes crinkled up that he was smiling behind the dark cloth, “I’m here to help. And by the looks of it seems like you just might need my assistance once again.”
He nodded in the direction of your hand buried under the fabric of your panties.
“I don’t have a masturbation addiction, OK?” you sat up on the bed resting your back on the headboard.
“I never said that,” he chuckled, “if you haven’t noticed I’m a sex worker and if anything, I’m addicted to making people cum.”
“Right.” You cleared your throat, his bluntless shooting straight down to your core.
“By my records I made you cum very. . very quickly,” yes, you were still succumbing to the endorphins of your thoughts circling around him — too focused on the way the bed dipped right beside you, “do you remember that?”
“Huh?”
“Come on, doll,” his hand landed right beside your thigh and he began gently stroking the fabric of your sheets, “don’t tell me you forgot already.”
“I didn’t,” there was a tingle slithering on the surface of your skin, “I was just thinking—“
“You’re thinking of him again aren’t you?” he shook his head, “just remember I’m just a couple messages away and he isn’t even around.”
“Him?” if only he knew. He was him.
“Him. That boy you told me about,” the pads of his fingers brushed against your thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, “the one you said you were thinking about when you were touching yourself.”
“I wasn’t thinking of him.”
“Don’t spare my feelings doll. Tell me the truth. I can take it,” in a way he was right you were thinking of him, the boy from the student center but that also meant you were thinking of JK — how would you even go about explaining this situation to the very man who was clueless to the fact that he was the only person occupying your thoughts?
“When you wanna forget about him for a bit you know where I’ll be doll,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear softly, “I’ll show you a good time.”
His cool breath met the shell of your ear almost in a slowed motion, it left you a shuddering mess. Overcome by the feeling of the electrical currents coursing through your veins. You were addicted to that very feeling but specially because you knew he was the only person who could make you feel what you felt.
“JK, I promise, I’m not—“ you opened your eyes only to be met by a vacant space beside you on the bed.
Fuck. Not again, not again, not again. Everytime you found yourself aiming lower in an attempt for self release he visited you. Storming your thoughts like a tropical storm and wreaking havoc in his path. Reminding you that your fingers no longer had a sense of direction in mapping out your fantasies.
Your fingers now entirely futile. All while your sexual frustrations rose and your cunt continued its rhythmic drumming mimicking a quickening heartbeat. It was increasingly painful and it reminded you of the ease you’d once experienced under JK’s ministrations.
“I’m going crazy. .” you whispered out into the void, “I’m going fucking crazy.”
Temptation drew you closer and closer to the laptop laid out on top of your desk. Although you tried to restrain yourself against it, leaning back on the feeling was much easier. And before you knew it you were sitting on the computer chair with the browser opened up staring right back at you.
In your mind, you typed out Eargasm over and over again — yet there was a hint of hesitation restraining your hands to the arm’s rest.
“He’s just a couple words and clicks away,” you typed out the letters but your hand remained hovering over the keys incapable of actually conducting the search. Surrounded by silence and the anxious streaks of hesitancy — there were an abundant number of questions clouding your mind. But the main one remained whether he would even want you there.
“Just do it, you little bitch,” realistically speaking the chance of JK being online was high, but wasn’t exactly the issue. You knew he extended an invitation for you to visit him at your leisure but in the back of your head you couldn’t help but wonder if you were pushing it demanding his attention this quickly?
The clacking of the keys echoed among the walls of your room. Immediately, your eyes were exposed to the bright turquoise full screen with the seven letters highlighted in a bright pink tone. The more you ogled the welcome screen the more you were consumed . . fervid with the excitement cooking up in your stomach as you came to terms with the fact that JK was so close. In a haste you clicked on the message icon wanting to pull up the very familiar username but to your demise there was a ruby colored ring surrounding his icon. He was with someone else. . Someone who wasn’t you.
This is his job. You repeated.
He does this every night. You repeated.
There was an aching sting springing in the center of your chest and while prior to that night your heart remained at a sinus rhythm, in this moment that changed and you could feel as the organ slowed pumping almost coming to a full stop.
It really shouldn’t sting but you couldn’t help that it did.
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“Please tell me you’re planning to go back home at some point this summer,” your best friend approached the table you occupied on the second floor of the dinning hall.
“Not a chance,” you swayed your pointer finger left and right.
Though, campus was significantly bare during the following scorching months there was nothing to really go back home to. While, you didn’t necessarily have a bad relationship with your parents — they were just never there. The purpose for their living and breathing was reduced down to avoiding you so they became addicted to their jobs. A pair of workaholics looking to forget about their personal lives, which only resulted in becoming estranged to their only daughter in the process.
And at the end of the day you’d rather spend nearly all three-hundred and sixty five days of the year on school grounds as opposed to being cooped up in a ‘house’ with nothing but empty rooms and frigid hallways.
“I can’t believe you actually chose to stay here. If I were you I’d be springing right past those brick columns and archway,” she sighed resting her head on her palm.
“How about we actually get you to pass that pesky math elective so that we can get back to your family for the entirety of the summer.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“What will it take to finally get you to go back home at least once next summer?”
“I don’t think anything is compelling enough for me to go back there and ruin my summer,” you shrugged while taking another bite of your sandwich.
“Come on,” she whined, “Nothing?”
You shook your head — there was nothing back home for you but stark loneliness. That was crystal clear to you.
“There’s not a special somebody waiting for you?” Once again, you shook your head.
Nada.
“So you’re telling me there's not a mystery man who’s the root of all your pent up sexual frustration?” She raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not believing a single word out of your mouth. You hushed her immediately, scanning your surroundings to make sure the people in the surrounding tables weren’t hearing in on your conversation. They weren’t.
“Can you shut the fuck up?”
“You act as if it’s a crime,” she rolled her eyes, “everyone masterbates and it’s actually healthy you know.”
“I would really appreciate it if we could hold this conversation until we are behind closed doors,” you uttered through gritted teeth, feeling like you had the label ‘recent masturbater’ plastered on your forehead.
“Fine,” she took yet another bite of your apple, “will you at least tell me if Eargasm helped you illustrate all of your wildest fantasies.”
“You make it sound like it’s some sort of elaborate form of art,” you guffawed.
Her bulging eyes stared at you as if you’d insulted one of her family members or a pet, “It is an art form. It definitely is. Just think how hard it must be to help someone get off by quickly reading their body language through a screen.”
“When you put it like that the guy I saw must be a magician,” God, you tried stripping all hints of excitement from your voice at the casual acknowledgment of his presence.
If anything JK himself was an art piece himself, illustrated onto the canvas with pristine brush strokes detailing all the perfect curvatures of his face and physique. He draped himself in dark hues and even within the square frame just hung on the wall he was a light source. One that demanded your attention, holding eye contact at all times and refused to let you dedicate even a bit of your attention to anything or anything who wasn’t him.
“What do you mean by that?” she squinted while crossing her arms at her chest.
“Well, for starters,” you shrugged, “I kind of never turned on my camera. . Not for the beginning of the session at least.”
“Not for the entire session?”
“Exactly.”
“Bitch, that was a question not a statement.”
You sighed; blanketed with bashfulness, “so after I requested a video session and he finally called I physically couldn’t hit the camera button.”
“And what did he say?”
“Nothing condescending,” you took a sip of your water, “he was actually really nice about it. That was pretty much the session.”
“But you insinuated you turned it on at some point?”
You stared out the glass windows adoring the wall beside the table — Now, you began to weigh your options. You could either deflate, avoid or confess. And at this point you were one hundred percent sure she has seen far too much. Much more than you ever intended to show anyone on this entire campus.
“I said that?” Avoid? Ok.
“You did. .” She pushed her chair closer to yours, perhaps her attempt at creating a concealed atmosphere.
“I have nothing to tell.”
You kissed her teeth simulating hints of annoyance at your discretion, “Bitch. . stop acting clueless. You’re a shit liar.” She eyed the way you anxiously played around with your hooped earrings.
“I’m not hiding anything” you let go of the silver jewelry and sat up on your chair, “And I’m not a shit liar.”
“Fine. Spare the juicy secrets.” She shrugged, “but at least tell me who you saw.”
After giving the tables around you a thorough scan to make sure he wasn’t near you finally whispered the only name you knew him by into her ear, “I almost chose Tae but then remembered you see him so I saw JK instead.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t cause Tae is mine,” she grinned like a fool. A love struck fool.
“Yours, as in yours and probably a hundred other girls. You know that, right?”
“That’s the crude reality isn’t it?” she sat the half eaten apple on the table huffing continuously like a mopey child, “how was JK though?”
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and while there were a million praises you wanted to express, all of the words sat idle in the back of your throat, “he was good.”
“Just. . good?”
“Well, better than good actually,” you began, urging your mind to unscramble the words needed to amplify his saccharine aid, “He was gentle and patient. But even more than that he was also sweet and caring.”
“I’ve read this man’s description before so he has tattoos and an eyebrow piercing right?” you nodded in confirmation, “plus he’s a literal angel?”
“Pretty much.”
“Dear God, how are you even breathing right now?” she placed her arms at your shoulders and rocked you back and forth emphasizing your existence here on planet earth as you finally comprehended that you weren’t just living some sort of venereal dream.
“I-I honestly don’t even know,” the flashed lingers of that night resided in your mind in small clips — the more you tried to recall the amatory details the more your mind became cloudy, dazed in its own lustful elixir. A potion so potent you were still high days after just off that hour doze, “it was definitely a night.”
“You should visit him again,” she began poking your side, “I know you wanna see him again.”
“I don’t know,” you giggled, pushing yourself away from her finger, “I honestly think it was a one time thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
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General Ed classes were frankly the worst part of university. You couldn’t quite understand the need to take all of the same classes you took and passed in highschool just so that they could reaffirm that you could in fact do math or knew your basic knowledge of biology or chemistry.
It was bullshit — An evident cash grab scheme. All at the expense of dedicating one’s freshmen year attending classes we truly didn’t even really need applied to our major.
You could sincerely rant about this all day long but it was currently nine in the morning, you were running low, (very low actually), on coffee and you were already ten minutes late to your intro to biology class. Your pace was matched with long strides as you were practically running through the courtyard.
Finally pushing through the glass door you felt the way the blanket of sweat covered your forehead. Leaving your skin as bright as polished glass and your breath shortening as a result of the rapid trip between your dorm and the library.
“Fuck,” you were out of breath choosing to take a seat on the bench near the entrance for a seconds before reluctantly hoping back on your feet and trotting up the stairs to the computer room.
Looking through the door’s window you saw the professor lecturing away. You practiced about a dozen ways to go in before you finally convinced yourself to just barge in — which eventually you did but a wave of regret washed over you when the door behind you closed with a loud bang and suddenly all glares were on you.
“Sorry,” you muttered.
“No worries, it happened to almost everyone here. Seems like the door is louder than we perceived,” the professor replied.
Scanning around the mid-size room you saw foreign faces staring back at you until your bestfriends smiled beamed brightly from the table at the end of the room. She was sitting alone with two vacant chairs on either side “Yeah, seems like it.”
“Well, welcome to Intro to Conducting Research. I’m Mr. Kim.” he introduced himself with a tender smile, “I hope you found your way ok. I know this one’s kind of a hidden gem unlike the rest of the lecture halls.”
“It did take me just a bit of time,” you chuckled, suppressing your nerves as they quickly urged you to scramble away from the front of the class and just sink into a chair to prevent yourself from verbalizing anymore idiotic babbles and incoherencies, “is the seating assigned?”
“No, no go ahead and find a seat wherever you’d like. We were just getting started.”
Quickly, you found yourself plopping on the chair beside your bestfriend, puffing out the constrained breath that had taken your chest cavity hostage as a result of your embarrassing entrance. Mr. Kim continued his first day lecture which mainly consisted of a syllabus reading, his life’s story and the scrambled rules to an icebreaker on the white board.
“What do the icebreaker questions say?” your friend asked, squinting to get a better look at the board, “I left my glasses at my dorm.”
“Does it matter?” you slouched down aiming for complete comfort slinging your feet on the metal bar, “we literally know everything about each other already.”
“Bullshit, I have no idea what your name is. .” Her delivery was accompanied with low and raspy vibratos. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was mimicking Mr. Kim’s voice. She pulled her phone from one of the pockets of her book bags and began scrolling aimlessly.
Your chuckle was airy and quickly vanished when you heard the rusty hinges of the door wailing out. The loud noise from the door meeting the threshold startled you although your eyes were already glued to the front of the room.
“That door is going to drive me fucking crazy,” the exasperation in her words was evident and you were about to agree but suddenly, you had moved from your place right beside her — feeling like she was now miles away. While you were now in this narrow space similar to an alley or tunnel. In the distance you saw her still glued to her phone screen while sitting on the opposite end; succumbed to pitch blackness. Even as you stood and attempted to sprint in her direction you were condemned to the enclosed walls.
You couldn’t tell whether you were trapped within a dream or a nightmare but he was here.
JK was here.
That was the torment drumming itself amongst the walls of your skull as the beat etched the stills of that night deep into your brain. The night you swore you would forget yet here he was to remind you of every second of it. Yet, your gaze was focused on him and you just couldn’t peel your eyes away.
You’d concluded it was entirely his fault. He possessed the kind of beauty you’d only ever heard derived from the ancient Gods of Greece — and as if he was a descendant of Aphrodite he held distinct associations to his name. You would argue JK was synonymous to beauty (obviously), love, passion and most certainly lust.
You must have been deep in orbit because you couldn’t recall the first or the second or the hundredth time your friend called out for you, so much so that she began shaking you to get you to snap out of it.
“Cute boy is coming this way,” she nodded in his direction, and you quickly realized he was closer than you had perceived, “Look alive bitch. He definitely looks like your type.”
“I don’t have a type,” you whispered through gritted teeth — he was close now. Just a few feet away.
“Yes, you do,” she mumbled back, “he’s practically a carbon copy of your Eargasm boyfriend.”
“He’s not,“ you argued quietly.
With her giggles circling through the air and your bulging eyes of horror JK finally made it to the proximity of your table and his soft utters sent an algid shiver to take route on your skin freezing you right into place.
His name was Jungkook, you’d learned.
He was JK but he was also Jungkook.
Between unremitting stutters you introduced yourself briefly and he took the liberty of occupying the only vacant chair left in the classroom which also happened to be right next to your best friend.
Small talk was your kryptonite and while your friend excelled in keeping conversations alive, you sat opposite the two of them lulled into space. Making your best attempt to seem as least interested as possible. But the truth was whenever you heard his voice you thought a command would follow right behind it — just like the ones he communicated that night.
Your thoughts were scrambled into a mess and there was a dull ache in between your legs further accentuating the frustration you’ve felt for far too long.
“What about you?” he asked, his eyes were duly set on you.
“Huh?” his brown eyes were so much more invasive in person and you felt like he devoured you with them.
“Is this your second year too?” he repeated.
“Uh, yeah,” you said, “it is.”
“Don’t mind her,” your friend said, “she’s a little out of it.”
“It’s ok,” he smiled; and quickly you noticed the silver hoop sparkling on the corner of his lip. Was that always there? You hadn’t noticed before. “Being here for the summer has us all going a little crazy.”
“Is this your first summer here?”
He nodded, “I usually head back home for summer but I figured I would get my gen ed’s out the way.”
“We all had the same idea I suppose,” you contributed.
“It’s better than being here for a whole extra semester,” she played mindlessly with the zippers on her backpack.
“What about you guys?” he asked, “is this your first summer here.”
Your friend quickly began recounting her endless summer adventures from years prior. . far far away from campus. Jungkook nodded and they both reflected on the forsaken summer ahead. Deflated at the exceeding number of voyages they’ll be missing while condemned to remain on campus.
You couldn’t help but wonder about the things you had kept from yourself. . A lot perhaps.
With the company of the scorching heat of the summer months daylight savings time lurked right behind it—providing the longevity of the sun, as the Earth seems to lean a bit closer to the star and decrease its speed in rotation.
And here you were melting away by the very sun. Unbeknownst to the so-called wonders of the summertime. Barred from any of the memories everyone seemed to be defined by: the best months of the year, the best moments of your life they’d say.
While enthralled in your own thoughts you heard your friend’s voice though it was a bit muffled, still you were able to make out what she said, “Ellie is over there. I’m gonna go say hi. You two talk okay?”
Jungkook chuckled softly. Why would she say that? Ugh, she made it weird. She definitely made it weird.
“Is she always like this?” he asked, leaning a bit closer in your direction and although he still remained in his chair at a considerable distance, you could feel the waves of his body heat crashing against you.
“Always,” there was a hint of nervousness stained on your tongue but you swallowed it down. Or at least tried to, “life’s never boring when she’s around.”
“You guys been friends long?” he asked, gis voice still vibrated in your inner ear, sounding like the beat of drums. It truly did frazzle your nerves.
“Yeah, we’ve been friends for a bit.”
He nodded. Simply soaking in what you’ve said—there was nothing else to say but you urged to hear the strumming of his sweet words just once more.
“What about you,” you clasped your balmy hands on top of the table, “you got any friends around here?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded, “I have a couple. We all live near each other back home too so I’m never allowed a moment of peace.”
“Seems like we’re kind of living under the same pretenses.”
“Seems like it. Maybe, we could escape away together one day.”
Together? Did he just say together? As in the both of you, on the same route. . Intentionally, while in each other’s company?
The silence between the two of you was deafening, you became nearly incompetent; unable to communicate anything corrigible. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your throat became dry. So fucking dry.
“Or-“ he began, seemingly taken back by your lack of verbal communication.
“Yes,” you finally said, “I’d like that very much.”
“You promise?”
“One day.”
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The first week of research class was slow. . repetitive and you couldn’t help the way your thoughts wandered off to your conversation with Jungkook the first day of class. How you promised each other one day—Just one day but that was as far as it has gone so far.
Even though, in that moment, you couldn’t feel farther away from him.
You’d barely uttered a word to each other but the patented ‘hello’ and ‘bye’ but that was the extent of it. There had been nothing else. Plus he no longer sat near, he was three tables away with his friend, Namjoon who had switched in on day two of class.
You couldn’t ignore the ping in your heart when you walked in that day and you saw him that far away—You could no longer spark up nuisance conversations, or sneak glances when you pretended to write your notes or have the sweetness of his vanilla scent inundating your nostrils.
It has all gone to shit. With fervent frustration you trotted up the stairs to your dorm on the second floor. Looking forward to laying in the comfort of your bed until you have to physically peel yourself away from your sheets.
The first strike was pitched the moment you pulled out your key card from the back pocket of your jeans and it immediately hit the floor. Conducting a string of breathing exercises to ease your rising vexation you picked up the card once more and took a deep breath before sliding it into the reader. The world was pitted against you that day though, because as soon as you retrieved the card and reached for the knob the electronic lock dinged and flashed its red light.
You tried again and again and again—all your attempts leading to the same result. Until finally your irritation ran rampant through your veins and you continuously banged on your door with your balled fists as if that would have made a difference. There was no one on the other side who could possibly rescue you, your only solution lived in the student center. . Visiting the very booth occupied by a certain boy who lived in your heart and mind.
“Oh c’mon, not today,” you mumbled leaning against the cold wooden door, “fucking Monday’s are always shit.”
The way to the student center was not long at all but your calves were torched with the amount of walking you’d already done for the day. Luckily, as you pulled the door open the hallways were vacant which meant there were no lines and most importantly no waiting.
“Finally, this damned day might just be turning around,” you mumbled to yourself.
You walked down the corridor, entered the second to last room and there he was sitting behind the rectangle frame carved into the wall. Jungkook’s chin rested on his palm. His long strands were left in a disarray but it made it work. He truly did. The rest of his body was hidden behind the tall desk but even from your position near the door you could see the collar of his black t-shirt. Even as the bell on top of the door chimed his attention was consumed by the brightly lit screen laid out in front of him.
“Hi,” he greeted, not looking up in the direction of the door once, “welcome to card and ID services. How may I help you?”
“Is this how you greet all the students who pop in here?” you teased with what you recalled to be your most idiotic smile plastered on your face.
He chortled finally realizing who it was, “if I would’ve known it was you I would have given you my undivided attention from the moment you walked in.”
Realizing you stood without your friend as a shield for conversations, you swallowed your nervousness. “You say a lot but I bet you don’t mean half of what comes out of your mouth.”
“I live by codes of honesty, doll.”
There was a stumble in your step as soon as you heard the pet name he uttered through your laptop screen all those nights ago. The same one that had you lured under his spell, in a disarray of emotions, whimpering babbles of nothing at all and everything all at once.
“Whatever you say, Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m actually here for a reason, not just for your charms and to see a pretty face.”
“Charms and a pretty face huh?” he smirked.
“Anyway,” you diverted the conversation away from your inane choice of words, “I’m actually here because I can’t open my dorm door with this thing anymore.”
“Is it working though?”
“No,” you slid the card over to him on the surface of the desk. You were hoping to get a peak of his tattoos as he reached out for it but he wore a hoodie. “it isn’t working like. . at all.”
“Actually, I was talking about my charismatic personality and dashing good looks.” His annoying and compelling magnetism had you in conflict between wanting to smack him upside the head or suck his dick behind the counter. “According to you of course.”
“Let’s table the cockiness for now and focus on the actual problem taking root,” you tapped your fingers in the plastic rectangular key.
Jungkook smiled and took the plastic key before sitting back on his office chair and typing away purposely into his keyboard. Even under the shitty lighting of this holed up office space his attractiveness was evident.
“How did you even manage to fuck up your card this bad?” he asked, not really demanding an answer but you shrugged anyway, “the computer won’t even read it.”
“I really have no idea.”
“This is gonna cost you, you know” his eyes still remained on the screen.
“I thought this shit was free?” you argued, “don’t we pay enough tuition to cover a little damaged keycard. I should’ve just broken my way in.”
Jungkook simply shook his head whilst dragging his chair back towards the printer to fetch your card.
“Consider that we’re very well acquainted classmates. Can you please deduct fifty-percent from what you were going to charge?”
“Well acquainted classmates?” His expression was hard to read but if you had to guess he seemed a bit hurt. . perhaps offended. But you could also just be misreading the situation. “And here I thought we were really good friends.”
“Aren’t they synonymous?”
“Not to me,” he held the new card towards you only to pull it back when you reached for it.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes at him. “We’re friends. Great friend actually.”
“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds a bit disingenuous,” he sat back on his chair still holding your key hostage.
You scoffed. “And how would you possibly know that?”
“I can read people.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
He smirked, “I can always just show you how well I can read people.”
The intent behind his words was blurred behind thick lines and while you genuinely thought he wanted to plead his case, you couldn’t help but feel like there were hints of temptation behind his promise.
It actually took you a bit off guard—though, not really. Jungkook, like JK, (his alter ego?) was a concoction of sensuality and comfort. He is the personification of sweetness and while that was a fact he also had a player persona and he was driven by flirtatious mannerism.
The perfect combination of two.
“Is this how you spend most of your day? Harassing all of the girls who come by to get their keycards fixed.”
“Harrasing is such an ugly word,” he smiled. That stupid that was so compelling it actually drew you closer and closer to him. “Besides you’re the only one I like to fuck around with.”
“Lucky me.”
“Lucky you,” he repeated in a hushed tone, placing your card on the wooden surface while his hand remained on top of it, swallowing it whole under his palm. “If you really wanna test your luck I want to offer a proposition.”
“What would that proposal entail?” You removed his palm and finally grabbed the card, shoving it in your back pocket. You tried to hide it but the feeling of your fingers meeting his ignited sparks to crackle in the pit of your stomach and instantly you were blinded by bright lights, perhaps fireworks.
“One day, remember?” Jungkook’s eyes are mesmeric, stroked with intricate detail, dabbed with a tone of cafè noir, glossed over as a final coat offering a shiny layer.
“One day, yes,” you confirmed taking yourself back to your conversation on day one, “you offered to take me around and show the beauty of summer. Everything I’ve been missing apparently.”
Jungkook shook his head light-heartedly. “Right. I was just wondering if we could upgrade the singular term to plural.”
“What do you mean?”
“One day,” he repeated. “Can we change that to a couple of days instead?”
Days. . This implies that you’ll be spending days with Jungkook? This felt like a cultivation of your own personal heaven. Initially, when he proposed the idea to you back in class a seed had been planted in your head, slowly blooming a flower which swayed briskly the more you thought about Jungkook and being able to ever spend time alone with him.
“You know I didn’t actually think you meant any of it,” you lied, you believed him or at least you wanted to.
“Did I not just say I’m a man of honesty?”
“Apparently that’s your morale code, right?” you raised your eyebrow at his claims of integrity.
“Of course, it is.” He confirmed, “don’t sound so surprised please.”
“Not surprised. Just absorbing all of this newfound information.”
“Absorbing sounds a lot like mocking.”
“Mocking is such an ugly word,” you teased.
“Ha—ha, very funny,” he uttered jokingly accompanied by a rumbling fake laugh, “you know what’s not funny?”
“What?” you tilted your head slightly with a smug smile painted on your lips.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I do?” you hummed.
“You really strive to puncture my ego don’t you?” his gaze was set on you intently, his dark orbs read you slowly from head to toe. It made your palms balmy and you could feel a tremble taking route at your lower extremities.
Walking towards the door your shaky hand reached for the handle and opening it before turning back one last time. “The answer is yes.” You walked out although you heard a string of questions following right behind you, all of them left unanswered.
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Yesterday was Friday, which meant today was Saturday. You knew that. You were competent enough to map out the days of the week accordingly. . Still, you weren’t quite sure why you heard an alarm blare through the walls of your dorm at six in the morning, startling you right out of the comfort of your slumber. Now, just thirty minutes past seven after rushing your morning routine thinking you’d ‘late for class’ you sat in bed showered with no real plans for the day ahead.
Your bowl of instant oatmeal was now empty and sitting on the nightstand beside your bed.
Navigating through the multitude of apps on your laptop was not as entertaining as you once perceived and although it did ease your boredom for a bit. Now you sat with the base panel sticking to your thighs staring at the home screen with nothing else to probe into.
“Come on,” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper, once again he seems to have invaded your thoughts, “I know you wanna visit me.”
“I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t need to visit the student center today.”
“You know what I’m talking about, doll,” the words bounced in your head, “I know you remember.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, your attempt at trying to vanish him from your mind entirely. But even if you hated to admit it you couldn’t help but crave that feeling of him being here even if it was through the building blocks of your own imagination—It just felt so real. The heat of his presence felt so real and truly you just wanted to be consumed by it.
“Last time, I visited you. . You were a little busy.”
“That was last time,” he laid back sinking into the softness of your mattress and pillows, “I promise I’m all yours today.”
His commands were like the songs of sirens inching you closer to the very spot where he wanted you to be. Very easily you typed in the name of the website you’d grown very familiar with on the browser and quickly clicked on the last messages between the two of you — he was online and without indication of being in another session. That’s a good sign.
Yeah.
You can call.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard without indication on how to approach a conversation because for one you wanted to speak to him but it was also eight in the morning and Eargasm was a simple gateway to an orgasm. Not to mention, you’d be talking to JK not Jungkook and while the two were the same person they were also different.
BunnyBoy98 is typing…
Fancy seeing you
back here ;)
You quite literally could not move.
Have you missed
me?
Please. Don’t flatter
yourself.
It’s not flattery.
Last I recall, I
did make you cum.
My fingers did that.
Not you.
Who was the guiding
voice though?
Right.
Right.
Don’t you ever
forget it, doll.
Is there a reason
you messaged me?
I like that about
you, you know.
What?
Your bluntness.
It reminds me of
someone I know.
It’s hot.
There’s someone else? Someone who occupies his thoughts regularly it seems. Your heart felt heavier as the sharp blade pierced right through it leaving behind a vast hole and an incurable wound. You weren’t really sure why but it hurt so bad.
But you knew it should not. His job required sparking up conversations with dozens of girls on a daily basis and helping at least a dozen more find their culmination.
You cannot feel anything.
Thinking of other girls
in my presence? Shame
on you BunnyBoy.
Sorry, doll.
I promise right
now is all about you.
But we seem to have
started on the wrong
foot. How can we fix
that, BunnyBoy?
Use me as you
please.
As you read his request there was a shift in the atmosphere. Sort of like what you felt back in back that first day, where you were briefly dreaming inside of a dream or like what you imagined it would feel like if the Earth ever slammed down on its brakes coming to an abrupt halt. Actually, you were sitting in a massive slingshot just waiting to be catapulted into space — it was all too grand to minimize into coherent thoughts, too great to be reality.
But it was and you were pulled right out of your own illusion when the phone call icon began vibrating repeatedly signaling there was an incoming call.
While your head was still swimming among the cottony clouds your fingers somehow managed to hit the green button on the call from JK popping up on your screen.
“I was beginning to become hopeless,” his voice was so distinctive the minute he began talking your skin became covered in goosebumps.
“Why were you becoming hopeless?” To this day, you wondered how you were able to point him out even in a crowd just by his voice and he’s yet to identify yours. Perhaps, that is exactly the reason why you were so comfortable speaking to him here — and adopting the confident persona you lack in real life.
“When I call there’s usually an answer just by the first ring.”
“Things are different today, BunnyBoy,” you laid down and placed the laptop on the pillow right beside your head. “I make the requests today, remember?”
You were nervous and you weren’t quite sure just how much of this you could actually pull off but you were willing to try just to show him a good time.
“It’s your turn to tell me what you desire most,” you tried to maintain a whisper to your tone. Not only was that your go-to interpretation of seductiveness but it was also really fucking early in the morning and the last thing you needed was to be the dirty talk alarm for your dorm neighbors.
“I like to be the gateway to heaven.”
“Elaborate.”
“You know exactly what I mean,” he snickered. Of course, he was referring to the art of making someone orgasm and he was right you were all too familiar with it. . Especially coming from him.
“What is it that you like so much about it?”
“It’s just an addicting feeling. I don’t really know how to put it into words,” you could tell he was talking through a wide grin, “it’s such a vulnerable moment for most people but I can’t help but drink the other person in entirely until I’m drunk off the antics and mannerism of their orgasm.”
“You get off by getting other people off?”
“I guess that’s an easier way to explain it.”
“So do I need to get off to help you get off right now?”
He huffed out a small breath, “Is that what you want, doll. To help me?”
You hummed, crumbling and failing to come up with any words at the mention of the nickname he’d attached to you.
“I can dig into my memories, you know. There’s so much about you I remember,” Again, you couldn’t see him but you could sense the smirk right through the microphone, “I know you kept your screen off but the sounds you made were enough to have me touching myself every second of everyday for days on end.”
The sensation of your walls clenching around nothing was taunting and the stream flowing right through the fabric of your panties just piled up on the mountain of frustration. You were miles away from the peak as you trotted up slowly but your thoughts remained on him.
“It’s like an audio file on loop. Your whimpers, and moans and the soft utters of my name. Fuck. The mixture became an ideal composition to the perfect ballad,” he confessed through a string of soft pants, “and then the way you pushed your fingers past your lips just to savor the taste of yourself. You really drove me to insanity.”
Your body felt as light as a feather and you could’ve sworn you were levitating right above your mattress you just couldn’t open your eyes to prove it. Instead, your tanktop was pushed below your breasts and your finger began its trail on your clit rubbing slow circles.
“JK, ima need you to shut the fuck up right now,” you were breathless with a hint of desperation. Ready to lose yourself in his voice, but you couldn’t, “shut up—“ you repeated, “this is not how it’s supposed to go today.”
“You say that,” he cooed, “but how come I can tell you’ve already begun to touch yourself?”
You pulled your hand from yourself, repelling away from the gravitational pull forcing you to reach back down between the warmth of your thighs. “You don’t know that and I was not touching myself.”
“You were and I’m 100-percent sure of it.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Don’t worry, doll. You’ve done more than enough to get me where I need to be,” he hissed.
Realistically speaking this was the goal—Your goal for the day. But the reality of Jungkook’s whine sounding near the shell of your ear made you imagine things that weren’t even there for the third time in the past few weeks.
And there he was, beside you once again, with his cock springing out from above the hem of his shorts. It was longer; bigger than you’d imagined but he made use of his veiny hands moving up and down his length with a hastened pace. Quickly working his way right into an orgasm.
“Tell me how it feels, JK,” you rubbed your legs together in search of some ease — perhaps to ignore the pain or the desirous sting threading dangerously near to overwhelmingness but it wasn’t helping. You reach out for one of the decorative cushions sitting on your bed and quickly rid yourself of your panties hiking your skirt up past your belly button. You weren’t quite sure what came over you but looking over at ‘JK’ laying beside you began swaying your hips against the cotton cushion to match his exact pace.
“Fuck—“ you squealed.
“Oh, doll,” he let out a rasp groan, “t-that’s exactly what I needed. Keep going please. I’m so close.”
Minutes went by since the two of you began exchanging the alluring songs escaping each of your lips. It was an orchestra of pleasure and you kept at it until your whines combined with his grunts signaled the peak of your actions.
“Oh fuck,” he breathed out, “I’ve never done that before.”
“What?”
“This has never happened during one of my sessions.”
You smiled, “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”
“Visit me more often,” he said, “I mean it. Don’t wait another two weeks.”
“I’ll be back. Don’t worry Jung—JK,” you cleared your throat as an attempt to mask your almost massive fuck up. Hopefully he didn’t hear.
“I’ll be here.”
“Bye.”
The call was disconnected. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Not again.
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Hours passed since your very interesting morning with Jungkook or should you say JK. It was closer to late night and you sat on a bench just outside the library with the luminous ray of the moon singling you out like a spotlight. You were tired and just like the moon sat without any stars surrounding it to keep it company you chose to be here, alone; secluded just for a little while. You needed it.
The night hadn’t begun this way. Not at all.
Your friend had texted you hours prior letting you know that a couple of people from research class had noticed a mini research project due for that Monday. And like any other group of panicked college students you all grabbed your shit and ran to the library to get the work done. Back then, you didn’t know that by ‘a few people from research class’ she also meant Jungkook.
While you could feel a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach, there were also those pressing nerves. You know, the ones that make your hands tremble, your tongue feel heavy inside of your mouth and your palms balmy all together.
It was a variation of your own personal heaven and hell.
“May I know why you’re out here sitting all by yourself,” there weren’t winds strong enough to make you shiver the way his voice had just now.
Would he recognize your voice from this morning? Maybe he would. You pressed your hands against the wooden bench and took a deep breath.
It’s gonna be okay. You chanted. It’s going to be okay.
“Oh, I’m done with the project and I just needed a bit of fresh air,” you waved your hands around in an attempt to point at the library but you ended up pointing in the opposite direction, “it was just too hot in there.”
“Yeah. .” He slouched down and placed his head on the back rest, “I needed out too.”
“Did you get to finish?”
“I did,” he laughed, “I chose the effects of tattoos in the workplace.”
“Ha—“ you guffawed, shaking your head, “I’m sure you meant to make a statement.”
“Of course, doll.” There it was again. The effects it had on you were so grand meanwhile he just brushed right past it like absolutely nothing.
“How many tattoos do you have anyway?”
He rolled his sleeve up revealing his arm all the way up to his bicep, “I lost count after filing in the gaps for my sleeve but I’ll confidently say I’m well over thirty.”
“You must have all of the secrets to pain tolerance,” you stared at the art pieces adoring his honey skin.
“I would say I have it more under control now than I ever did before,” his head turned towards you and his dark eyes pierced your soul, “I almost cried during my first one though. Hurt so fucking bad I had to keep taking breaks.”
“Which one was it?”
He brought his arm up and showed you the flower sitting right on his right elbow.
“Can I?” That was your way of asking if it was okay for you to touch it without having to actually say it.
“Yeah.”
Your fingertips traced the small orange flower along with its surroundings which sprawled out into a larger floral design. Sparks of electric currents traveled from your fingers as they remained in contact with his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too but you were too afraid to ask.
“Did you get it shaded and colored in one go?”
“I couldn’t,” he shuddered, likely remembering that very day at the tattoo shop, “hurts just thinking about it.”
“But then you went and got a whole sleeve?”
“I guess I’m still fond of a bit of pain.”
“That’s psychotic.”
“Maybe,” he closed his eyes lightly, as a cheeky wide-toothed grin formed on his lips. That was the last of your interaction for a bit, the two of you just sat back in silence enjoying the serenity of the night. But of course, silence seemed to be a burden on Jungkook’s behalf because it didn’t really last too long. “Hey, you wanna go get ice cream? I hear the shop just off campus is open late.”
“Is this the kick start to your summer itinerary for me?”
“Could be. . if you want it to.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
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With a stunned expression your friend watched as Jungkook followed behind you, into the library to collect your belongings only to see you exit with him once more. Even though the windows you saw as her mouth remained agape as you disappeared into the night with the man that occupied so much of your heart and mind.
Seconds after you felt your phone vibrate continuously in your back pocket. Knowing it was probably just her with an abundance of prying questions you ignored it for now instead choosing to focus on the paved road ahead you. There are so many beautiful things to admire at this time of night — the way the bright green leaves sway with the cool breeze on the branches they’d call home for the duration of the summer, there was also the way the brightness of the street light illuminated the way to your destination. There were no lone frigid gusts whispering their way through the city, instead there was the buzzing chatter of on-goers bringing the streets back to life.
Jungkook and you occupied the sidewalk taking in every scene, every conversation, every person, every detail in your way and just as you neared the little ice cream shop you saw the way his doe eyes lit up at the vibrant shade of pink on the concrete walls.
“What should I get you?” You sat on one of the small tables lined up on the sidewalks just a few feet away from the shop.
“Chocolate please,” you pulled out your wallet just as he placed his hand on top of yours and shook his head.
“I invited you, didn't I?”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
Across from you at another small table you spotted a couple seemingly on their first day. You could tell because the girl as beautiful as she was, she wore the same gitters you did. The way her fingers trembled whenever the boy across from her inched his hand closer to hers.
She wore the exact same gitters you did but you were not here on a date. You were merely an acquaintance. Someone Jungkook knew in passing — likely to become someone he once knew once this charade of wanting to show you around for the summer was over.
“Are you always this deep in your own thoughts?” Jungkook sat across from you on the table and handed you the wafer cone with two chocolate scoops.
“Not always. .” you took a swift lick of your ice cream, “sometimes is probably a bit more accurate though.”
“May I ask why that is?”
“There are too many things dancing around in my head to figure out the steps to,” you began playing around with the edge of the napkins laid out on the table.
“Do any of those pressing thoughts have to do with your shit taste in ice cream flavors?” The dimples on his rosey cheeks were scaled to your meter of comfort and you couldn’t help but reciprocate his cheerful manner.
“Shit?” you sneered, “if we’re talking shit, strawberry is definitely first on the list.”
“Strawberry ice cream tastes like actual strawberries. Now please tell me what chocolate ice cream tastes ‘cause it is certainly not chocolate.”
“Bullshit. It does taste like chocolate.”
“Now, that's bullshit,” he continued, savoring his frozen dessert. “Will you ever tell me why you despise the summertime so much?”
“I do not despise it. I just—“ you sighed, “there are just experiences that simply do not wash away with the currents of the beach waves.”
“That’s awfully poetic.”
“I like to dramatize my life experiences.”
“I won’t make you elaborate. I will, however, smother you with my favorite activities until you have no choice but to fall in love with the season,” he strapped his backpack on and called over to you, “you ready?”
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Whoever said spinning around on the roundabout after devouring an entire cone of ice cream was a good idea — was wrong. Of course, Jungkook’s ideas of the perfect summer night were made up of late night escapees, sweets and indigestion.
Jungkook, the culprit in this entire scheme plopped down on the multi-colored metal surface, clearly out of breath after having spun you so fast the heavens were now where the ground once used to be.
“You are the worst,” you laid down on the roundabout, eyes closed, swallowing down the nausea creeping up the back of your throat, “if I puke. . It is entirely on you.”
“Last I recall, you’re the one who wanted to be spun around on this thing.”
“Yes.” You continued taking deep breaths, “keyword spin not attempt to blast me off into the Milky Way.”
“You are such a drama queen.”
“There is nothing dramatic about the way my head is spinning right now,” you felt his shower brush against yours — he was now laying beside you. You opened your eyes slightly, turning your head in his direction, “are there now three of you?”
“Here,” he raised a hand to your face, “how many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two?” you lied. He had all five fingers up.
“I know you see my whole hand is sitting right in front of your face right now,” he rolled his eyes.
“Actually, I don’t. That’s why I said two,” you stuck your tongue out at him before redirecting your attention back to the sky. “Do you think the moon ever gets lonely up there?”
Jungkook followed your line of vision to the sky above where the moon still sat all by itself, “I’ve never actually thought about it but I think everything and everyone can feel lonely once in a while.”
“I think I’m like the moon.”
His voice was soft, “in what way?”
“I guess—“ you battled with all the words crashing against each other in your brain, “in the sense that compared to Earth and most planets, the moon is so small right?”
“Yes.”
“I just feel like that. You know? Like a single grain of sand in a sandbox — feels like I’m an ant in a world of giants.”
“While it is true that the moon is fairly small in comparison to most of the planets in our solar system,” he began. “It is also a beacon of light. Without the moon our nights would be composed of utter darkness, the ocean tides would fall and the course of the life we know would be altered. Without the moon our lives would be shit.”
“Right.”
“Small yet consequential. You get that?”
“I do.”
You told no fib. His words were a warm blanket of solace wrapping itself tightly around your figure — serving as a shield, protecting you from anything that could perforate through your being; your soul.
Your parents had always been the main assailants in the attacks you had experienced throughout your life. After your brother walked away from home they pushed you aside, neglected you and left you to raise yourself. They were never there for birthdays or the holidays or summer vacations or even just regular days. You were a thirteen year old girl alone not being able to decipher why all of their grief from your brother’ abandonment came at the expense of the love they claimed to have had for you.
All your life you tried to work out if you’d done anything wrong but you finally see that it wasn’t you. Their neglect was based on their inability to be parents before anything else.
So yes, you were like the moon. Small yet consequential.
Jungkook’s pinky brushed up against yours slightly as he traced random shapes on your skin; sort of like asking permission before actually holding your hand. You looked at each other and before you knew it he wrapped his hand to yours. The warmth radiating from him was soothing and like nothing you’ve ever felt before. If you were sure of one thing — it’s you never wanted him to let go.
You just wanted to stay there with him in that moment forever.
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“Jungkook, you better shake off all that sand out here or you are forbidden from entering my room,” you threatened, which only resulted in a mischievous grin from the man and the sand to go flying in your direction as he purposely tried to get it on you.
“Is that all better?”
You snorted, brushing off any of the remaining sand he did get in you, “you are so mean.”
A week of summer adventures had graced your life for the better — Jungkook had burdened himself with the mission to get you to enjoy the wonders of the scorching summer months and he was succeeding. You have enjoyed all of it thus far. Even having the ocean sand in places where the sun doesn’t shine.
The schedule doesn’t cease and while your platonic relationship with Jungkook blossomed though you couldn’t completely shut out the feelings that sent your heart into a frenzy whenever he was near. You like him so bad, but your friendship with him was like a gem, a rare gem and you wouldn’t trade that for anything on this entire planet.
“You know what’s weird?” Jungkook walked out from the bathroom just as you finished getting dressed. One towel hugged his waist, while the other he used to dry his hair.
“Jungkook?” you yelped, “clothes.”
“Oh, come on, you saw all of this at the beach,” he pointed at his sculpted physique. You did and you were almost sent into cardiac arrest then — what makes him think you’d be any better off within the congested walls of your room. He was feet away near the bathroom door but it felt like he was just beside you.
“Whatever. .” you turned around trying to keep yourself busy with something else, something that did not involve gawking at him. “This wall—“ he noticed you weren’t looking, “this wall right above your bed it looks so fucking familiar.”
“Jungkook, you’ve been in here about a dozen times in the past week,” your body stiffened as you felt a nauseating flutter in your stomach.
“You’re right . .” your back was still turned towards him but you could hear the floorboards creak as he inched closer, “but that right there only confirms it. There’s also your voice, that birthmark sitting right below your bottom lip and not to mention your nail polish you always keep the exact same shade.”
“Jungkook—“
“Not very clever I’d say,” his chin rested on the nook of your neck, “especially we ended on becoming this close.”
You wanted to say something — anything but you couldn’t actually speak.
“After our first time on Eargasm together,” he whispered into your ear, “do you know how much I thought of you? Your voice was the only thing that has played in my head since then. I wanted. . needed to meet you. The girl behind the black screen.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since the day you went to get your card fixed at the student center,” he continued, “your voice is soft, euphonic, harmonious, even when you’re cumming. It’s easy to distinguish.”
You shuddered as a result of his dulcet praise, “I’m so transparent but your tattoos ratted you out especially the snake sitting right below your wrist.”
“Problem is I wasn’t trying to hide, doll.”
“You didn’t care?”
“I didn’t care.”
Turning around the two of you remained face to face examining even the tiniest of details within one another. The pale red tint on the apple of his cheeks matched the tone of his lips almost perfectly.
His lips . . they were so inviting. You were sluggishly levitating towards him before his words slammed at your brakes.
“I think we should get going,” Jungkook said standing by the door holding his keys out to you. Was he kicking you out of your own dorm? “You wanna wait for me in the car? I’ll be right down.”
“Uh—“ you were a bit taken back with disappointment and just a bit of confusion. Was he really oblivious to it? “Yeah, that sounds fine. Don’t be long.”
A million thoughts scrambled your brain on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car as your eyes drifted off toward the sun disappearing into the horizon. Love was never your forte but if you were sure of one thing it’s that what you felt although unspoken was evident; crystal clear more so. So you replayed what had happened in your room time and time again to decipher when it all had gone to shit. Perhaps, he was in fact still angry about you knowing it was him all along. . But you’d apologized when joined you in the car and he reassured you that it was fine and he wasn’t mad.
Looking back towards the driver seat, Jungkook remained with one hand on the wheel and his eyes glued to the road ahead. Not a word escaped his lips. Why is it so difficult to figure out what men are thinking?
Once you arrived at the drive-in movie theater, Jungkook parked and quickly dismissed himself to buy snacks while you tried to find the station provided to be able to hear the movie and finally you did.
“Okay,” Jungkook opened the car door, taking his previous seat back on the driver’s side, “I got popcorn, cherry slushies and a bunch of gummies. I just guessed on everything hoping it wasn’t a complete miss.”
“Of course I like these. Thank you, Jungkook.” You’d like anything he brought back for you simply because it came from him, “You know, I thought this style of movie watching ceased to exist after the 90s.”
“Yeah, I guess there was a decline in popularity after the 90s. Now, in some places it is once again sought out as a popular summer activity.”
“That is evident,” you looked around at the packed lot out in front of you. You guys scored the very last spot in the very last row, “Do you come here often?” Only you knew the real undertones of that question. ‘Do you bring other girls here often?’ This is what you actually meant.
“Not often,” he took a sip of his slushie
“Not often,” you repeated under your breath with a residue of bitterness left in your tastebuds. You weren’t sure if your drinking had grown pungent or if his words simply landed a punch in your gut triggering your acid reflux.
Patience, patience and endurance. You’d neared your limit for both while your heart continued its call for Jungkook but he simply could not hear. Was he really oblivious to it? You wondered once again. Was the wailing just white noise to him . . Non-existent? Could he not hear it as loudly as you could? Because to you it was all you could hear, the only thing you could pay mind to. To you the movie was long gone and all you wanted was for him to notice you. Not simply as friends, but to embrace what you knew he briefly felt for you back at the dorm. To actually see you.
“Are you okay?” his hand slowly moved to shove some more popcorn into his mouth. His words were slack, almost as if he’d been put to function in slow motion, “do you not like the movie?”
You couldn’t care less about the fucking movie. “The movie is fine.”
“Are you sure?” Was that concern in his voice? “I can get you something else from the snack bar,“ he reached for the handle, “let ne get you a water.“
“No,“ you held his wrist, “just stay please.”
“The snack bar is less than ten steps away. Are you sure you don’t want it?”
“I don’t want you to go.” You weren’t sure you were being clear so you tried your best to elaborate, “I know technically left my own room earlier but I didn’t want to and now I do not want you to go.”
You heaved feeling the pace of your quickening heart beating your chest. Then mumbled, “I left only because you asked me to but I wanted to stay with you.”
His eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to unscramble your inept confession. Soon his chocolate eyes dilated realizing the weight of your words.
“Like?” He asked, allowing his silence to fill in the gaps.
“Yes,” you confessed. “I wanted to stay in my room with you and spend the night together.”
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. Truthfully, I wanted you to stay but I didn’t want to overstep after we talked about the Eargasm thing,” He turned his head away from his hands gripping the steering wheel towards you in the passenger seat.
“I like you. I’ve liked you before Eargasm Jungkook,” you could’ve sworn the sky began plummeting down on you while you just sat amongst the deafening silence, with your heart poured out before you — and still Jungkook said nothing, “Uh, you know what forget I ever. .” you paused taking another look in his direction but Jungkook simply hid behind wide eyes, “actually, no. Scratch that. I like you but I’ll be okay.”
“You are much braver than me, you know,” he spoke quietly, “a lot of my life I’ve lived hidden behind JK and though he is my other half he is not truly who I am. He is much more courageous than I’ll ever be but you were brave so I know I owe you a reciprocation of the same transparency. I’ve liked you from the moment I walked into class that very first day and I’ve only fallen for you harder with each passing day.”
“Jungkook.”
He hummed.
“Kiss me.”
In the matter of seconds the two of you climbed over to the back seat — the clashing of your body heat drew sweat beads to cascade down your temples. Your attention was far off that though, instead you were lulled by the softness of his silken lips pressed against yours. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeat in the way your bodies were pressed so tightly against each other. His palm resided by your waist as he continued tugging at your top.
He pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, “are you sure you want to do this here?”
You looked around feeling locked in by the tint of Jungkook’s car windows, “I’m sure.”
Before your back could meet his leather seat, Jungkook began pulling your panties down and pushing your denim skirt up past your belly button. Jungkook was always gentle whether it was with his words or his touch, that was the truth, and today was no different.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook’s usual dove eyes were now burning with hunger — desire. His hands rested on your knees and he began spreading your legs farther and farther away from each other causing your underwear to become soaked. You hadn’t really noticed how spacious the back of his car was until now, until he kneeled in front of you. His fingers traced the outline of your thighs as he reached under your skirt quickly pulling your panties down to your ankles.
You closed your eyes, melting back into the seat. The feeling came in waves you quickly realized. First, there was the anticipation as your body urged him to touch your body but he only allowed his digits to cloud over your cunt. Then, there was the taunting of his teasing touch where he would drag the pads of his fingers along your folds — a touch so agonizing you found yourself driving your hips against him for some relief.
“Come on, doll,” Jungkook cooed as two of his fingers sat at your entrance with no intention of moving, “I thought you were more patient than this.”
“I’ll be good,” you heaved, “I promise.”
“Promise?” He pushed past the muscle of your entrance quickly invading your insides and in that moment you could’ve sworn you were no longer in his car — instead you lived amongst the celestial body of lumineers lighting the night sky. Words poured out of you in the form of profanities featured by the moans you couldn’t seem to suppress the quicker he pumped in and out of you.
That was it. That feeling. You held on as if your life depended on it. There was nothing, nothing else that could claim your attention the way Jungkook was at that very moment.
“Oh, right there,” your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he reached the very spot in your insides which blurred your vision and caused your legs to shake just a bit, “j-just keep going right there.”
His lips quickly landed on yours for a kiss so torrid you could taste the remnants of his cherry chapstick on your tongue. Enveloped by the overstimulation of the kiss and his fingers inside of you, the remaining piece of string which held you together snapped and behind your eyelids all you saw were spots of flashing white lights.
“Jungkook. .” You waited just a moment to catch your breath before patting the seat right beside you, “come sit with me. Unwind.”
“It’s hard to think of anything else when you’re sitting right beside me looking like that,” he hummed, “ all fucked out when I’ve only fingered you.”
“Just. . trust me,” As soon as he sat you placed your hand on his chest climbing onto his lap placing your legs on either side of his, “will you do that?”
“I trust you.”
Even the mess Jungkook had already created in between your thighs you felt that concupiscent armor burning deep inside of you — it was like a wildfire you couldn’t extinguish. Jungkook’s hands landed on your waist, his grip was sweaty against your skin, he began you forward and backward on his lap. And you began reciprocating that movement at a rhythm equivalent to his.
The temperature continued to rise within the enclosure of his car and a mixture of his rough grunts and your pleased hums began to fill the space. His clothed cock and your bare clit continued to meet in the filthiest of ways yet you couldn't resist but cry out for more. You craved more.
“I-I need you, Jungkook,” you whimpered.
If you thought you’d known pleasure before there was nothing compared to the way Jungkook’s massive cock felt inside your walls. It’s as if his dick was personally crafted to slip into you. God, he wasn’t moving a single muscle — you weren’t either and still you couldn’t help the countless moans dripping right off your lips.
“Are you okay?” he asked, “can I move?”
“Please,” you cried out.
In being the embodiment of sin, Jungkook embraced his mercilessness as a result of your yelp when his cock rammed into you with a drawn out yet deep thrust. As he slipped in and out if you saw the way he almost pulled out entirely only to guide you back down harshly on his length. Over and over and over. Your head lulled back and you were sure your rolled eyes could recite the contents of the inside of your skull.
“D-don’t stop,” you choked out, placing a hand on the hood for support as Jungkook continued to have you at his mercy, “I’m so close.”
You couldn’t really see in the midst of the pleasure coursing through you but you could feel the way his warm lips landed kisses around your breasts while his hands caressed your sides.
“P-please don’t stop,” the car began moving along with his pace and you were sure the others around you were now aware of the events unfolding right beside them. But you didn’t fucking care. Jungkook’s hand reached down in between your thighs near the exact point where his length disappeared inside of you, and he began stimulating your clit — drawing out small circles. You were shaking with pleasure spilling a string of curses. This continued until you finally reached your peak through screams of his name and your juices coating his cock while he poured into you.
“Fuck,” you cried out sweetly as he pulled out, “that was amazing.”
“It was better than amazing.”
You laid your back against him as he wrapped you up in his warm embrace. The two of you were warm and sweaty, “so what’s on the itinerary for tomorrow?” You asked.
“We’ll go anywhere you wanna go. Together.”
“Together,” you smiled.
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a/n: this is mildly edited sooo . . . thread lightly for any mistakes lol. Also, the smut is pretty average but my brain wasn’t working so sorry about that in advance <3
🔖: @shaybtsfoever @bjoriis @sharkipoonis @hoseokteardrop @ravensidea @skzthinker @cherryluvhobi
reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated.
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emsgoodthinkin · 6 months
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18+
“Oh.. hell yea baby bounce on it”
You and Steve have been together for 5 months now. Met in college, specifically art class, he was forced to take an elective, anything for him to graduate. That’s when he saw you in the middle of the room.. naked. Well kinda, there was a long white sheet wrapped around you. Figure drawing was that days subject.
You seemed happy? Not at all flustered having all eyes on you, Steve was a bit intimidated, not only because of how beautiful you looked and all, but everything about you made the whole room glow. And made the bulge in his pants grow.
After class he was the last one out, he wanted to talk to you, little were you aware he was stuck behind in the room; that’s when you dropped the sheet to put your clothes back on. You both screamed in sync and he scrambled out of the door faster than you could’ve blinked.
Later that afternoon, you seen him in the library and came up to him to talk about the book he was reading. He was surprised you didn’t mention the incident, and since then you two hit it off.
He knew you were a virgin, so heavy make out sessions, mutual masturbation and lots of oral was the base of your guys relationship.
You woke up, extremely needy and horny. No vibrator or dildo could sedate your craving other than Steve. He wanted to take his time with you, telling you that you’ll know when the time is right. He made a mistake years ago losing his to quickly so in his terms, he’s doing you a favor. In your terms, he’s torturing you.
You swear he gets off on it.
You’ve been rubbing your pussy up against your hand every five seconds at work, coaxing him through sexy texts and lewd photos. Trying to give him the heads up you’re ready for him to finally fuck you. Or “make love” as he’d exclaim. same shit
He’s usually arrived home by the time you get off of work and today, you were definitely worked; panties have been sticking to your cunt since 10 this morning
“I need you now!” you shout kicking your shoes off and tossing your bag elsewhere, meanwhile, he’s wide-eyed, staring at you with a mouth full of cereal
“Pardon?”
“Steve baby please I love you so much but I need your cock in me right now, I’ve been so horny all day, I mean I can literally smell myself through my own pants right now,” you admit ridding him of the bowl, climbing into his lap, immediately grinding your hips
He scoffs.
“Baby we’ve been through this.. damn, really can smell it huh?” he replies cursing himself, biting his lip, “I thought we were going to wait? you know I want it to be special for you”—
“and it will be, please I promise I’m ready” you pout
The heavy feeling of you has him already babbling.
—“just like that baby, bounce it a little bit — y-yeah that’s it there we go,” he strains bucking, his hips up into yours, cock fully solid
“yeah? like that daddy?”—
“Don’t! Stop that.. fuck, don’t call me that, you know what that does to me”
“what does it do hm?” you lean down to nip his ear, “does it make you wanna fuck my brains out?”
He growls, moving your hips faster “What the fuck are you doing? Why are you doing this to me, fuck! keep bouncin, keep boucin that hot pussy on my dick sweetheart oh— shit”—
“Come on Stevie you know you want it, you’ve been dying to feel my pussy squeeze it, anytime with you will be s-speacial, just.. PLEASE!” you, almost in tears, begging; your thighs are burning the faster and harder you grind
“Ahhh, fuck it, get up!”, he demands angrily and eagerly ripping your pants and soaked panties off—
“Open those fuckin legs, ill make ya feel real special tonight”
reblogs appreciated
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dottores · 9 months
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HELIOTROPES
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pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, theta hurts reader but only a little, this was not edited sorry for mistakes 😭
notes: alrighty guys, this is officially the last chapter of the regular schedule—after this one, updates are going to be sporadic but they will at the very least be monthly. wish i could keep up the schedule but its not going to be feasible considering i start law school this upcoming wednesday </3 i'll update the masterlist to reflect the change too
SPIT IN MY FACE
“Excuse me?”
The masked man—had Gamma called him Theta?—kept a tight grip on your wrist, holding it up in front of you so he could look at it himself. He was stronger than he looked, you tried to rip your wrist out of his hold but failed. His nails dug into your skin in response to the attempt, drawing blood. You grimaced as you watched a thin line of red seep down your forearm. 
“You heard me.” Theta’s smile didn’t budge as his other hand came up to grab your chin, turning your head away from where Kappa was still buried in the crook of your neck to face him. “Was he trying to keep you hidden away or were you trying to hide from us?”
He wasn’t looking at your hand. He was looking at your finger or more specifically… where your thread was hanging from it, leading off somewhere to the left of you wherever Dottore was. You remembered how Kappa had looked down at your hand curiously before deciding to come over to you, the way he was so at ease with you for no reason. And Gamma. Gamma had looked at your hand before he started panicking and ran off.
Could they… see it?
“Hm?” Theta’s nails dug into your cheeks now, just like how he had with the aristocrat—you didn’t even know where they went, if they had taken the opportunity to flee or if he had done something to immobilize them, you couldn’t turn your head to check. You grimaced as you felt his nails break skin again. “Answer me.”
How was that possible?
You could all but taste the poison in his words, the impatience and the frustration. You were at a loss as to how to proceed—your arms were tied up with Kappa, one of your hands was stuck in his and he was forcing you to look at him, and that unhinged look in his red eyes was causing your brain to fog with fear.
Think. You had to think. You had to free your wrist from his hand. You had to get back to your room, or to Pantalone’s. 
Where was Pantalone? Livid, you realized that the man was probably still listening in on the show, not getting involved, leaving you to deal with this unstable bastard. 
Think. What did he want to hear? What would make him settle down at least enough to loosen his grip on you?
But how the hell were you supposed to know what he wanted you to hear? Even with just the way he spat out those two questions, you knew both answers were wrong and would set him off more. But you had to say something, the longer you went without answering his question, the more his eyes flamed with impatience—you didn’t want to know what would happen when that thin thread of patience snapped.
“I came here, didn’t I?” you asked quietly. You tried to relax your shoulders and upper body, exuding a type of faux-comfort with the man. “I came looking for you.”
Theta’s red eyes narrowed with suspicion, watching you carefully—his grip did not waver, much to your distress. 
“You don’t even know who I am,” he said coldly, speaking the one truth you’d hoped he wouldn’t. His grip on your wrist tightened and his nails dug deeper into your cheeks. “I hate liars.”
“I’m not lying,” you told him, grimacing as his nail dragged against your skin. Kappa shifted in your arms, bristling, you couldn’t tell if he was watching or not. “You can see the thread, no? I may not fully understand how you can see it but the fact that you can speaks enough.”
Theta hesitated, the corner of his lip dipping in doubt as he tried to decide whether or not he thought you were lying. You watched with bated breath, tongue kissing the inside of your teeth, as a flurry of emotions rushed through his eyes ranging from anger to hesitancy and hope. Then his eyes hardened, decision made, and your heart sunk to your stomach.
“Liar.”
Again, his grip tightened but it was painful now and your body begged you to pull away or do something but he was stronger than you. He forced you closer to him, turning you so that if Kappa wasn’t between you, you would’ve been chest-to-chest with him. You wondered if you should let him go, let him flee somewhere safe, but he was still clutching your shirt.
Theta leaned in close, you could feel his breath hot against your cheek and the cool ceramic of his mask nudging against your skin where his nose would have been. You grit your teeth together as you felt something warm and wet press against the skin of your cheek where his nails had broken through, lapping at the blood.
Your face felt hot, anger and humiliation curdling your blood as Theta let out a puff of amused laughter against your skin.
“You taste like a liar too,” Theta crooned. “Lambda thinks you’re a fake sent to distract us. Are you a fake, little liar?”
Us. He kept saying us but you don’t know what that meant or how it was possible—they could see the thread but as far as you could tell, they did not have a connecting one. You had never seen anything like that before, nor had you ever read about anything like that. 
You thought you should say something but your mind was reeling as you tried to piece together the puzzle and figure out what was going on.
But before you could do or say anything, Kappa squirmed and twisted in your arms, hanging over you to whack his small fist hard against Theta’s mask—with more strength than you expected from the boy. 
Theta grunted stumbling back—he wasn’t hurt but the force of Kappa’s swing had partially knocked his mask off, revealing thick scars similar to the ones you had seen on Gamma. He fumbled trying to straighten out the mask and as he did, you whirled around to rush to your room.
You didn’t get far. 
Not because of Theta, who was cursing as he fastened the mask back on, but because you slammed right into someone else’s chest, broad and dressed in dark clothes. You glanced up as a pair of gloved hands grabbed your waist, irritation rising at Pantalone’s thin, close-eyed smile. You wondered if you had passed or failed whatever test he expected from this situation. 
The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist as he shifted you over to the side and behind him, leveling his attention on Theta as the man straightened back, narrowed eyes still trained on you instead of the Harbinger. 
“Theta.” Venom dripped from Pantalone’s words as he spoke his name. “I suggest you make your way back to the Doctor’s labs instead of bothering my guest.”
“Your?” Theta spat out, taking a step forward. His eyes were wild again now, far gone from the hardened look he had directed toward you after he made his decision. You stiffened, watching as Pantalone lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, challenging Theta. “She is not your anything, banker. Go back to counting your coins and sucking noble cock to get further in the world, stay out of our business.”
Pantalone, to his credit, did not look bothered by the dig—the only sign of anger was the way his lip twitched before he spoke: “Take it up with your maker, fraud. You have no authority here, you are not the Doctor.”
“I am-” 
Sharp and loud, Theta’s voice rang up and down the hall as he took two long steps forward as if to attack Pantalone but the Harbinger only let out a huff of amusement as he cut Theta off mid-shout.
“I am not one of the subordinates who you can fool into believing you are him. You are a rabid dog running a thin line between life and death. It is only a matter of time before you’re put down, I again suggest you leave before I make that day come sooner.” 
You thought that you shouldn’t feel anything for the man standing a few paces away but something deep in you clenched when Theta drew back as if he’d been physically slapped, red eyes wide with shock. The feeling did not last long though because as quick as the hurt appeared, it was gone, twisting into something far more sinister as a wide smile spread across his lips, teeth bared much like the rabid dog Pantalone claimed him to be. 
“You think you can kill me?” 
Something manic stained his words, deranged and challenging as if he meant for Pantalone to back his words right then and there. Theta did not have a vision, not one that you could see or feel at least, but you knew in your bones that he was far, far more dangerous than he looked—he was strong and he moved faster than any visionless human you’d ever seen. Briefly, you wondered if he even was hu-
Pantalone stepped forward and the air around the four of you crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl. You let out a shaky breath, eyes widening as you took a step away from the man, unconsciously trying to get away from the source of the energy, an unnatural and uncomfortable feeling spreading through you. 
What is that? 
It felt sick. Corrupted. The air tasted stale and rotted as it seeped down the halls like poison. Your vision was reacting in response to it, the purity of the hydro energy trying to repel the new, malefic energy but it was curling all around you, trying to find chinks in the thin shield your vision was providing you from the decay. 
You had to get away from it but your feet were rooted to the ground, watching the scene play out before you. Neither Theta nor Pantalone looked bothered by the energy—in fact, Theta looked thrilled, eyes alight as his impossibly wide smile widened even more, a giggle slipping from his lips as he raised his hand as if to summon something, but before he could snap his fingers, his eyes dulled and his knees hit the ground hard. Almost like he had been turned off, just like that.
What-
At once, the energy around Pantalone dissipated and you could move, confusion riddling your mind as you tried to figure out what happened to Theta and what that disgusting energy was. You took a step forward, eyes wide and trained on Theta first—was that Pantalone’s doing? But as you turned to look at him, your gaze caught sight of a figure down the hall. 
Dottore. 
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You were bleeding. 
Dottore could feel his cheeks stinging but he hadn’t been sure what it was until he got to the hall in Pantalone’s wing where Gamma had left you. Theta was on the ground, empty-eyed and still, turned off courtesy of Dottore, and Pantalone was standing to the side of you, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. 
But you were looking at him, and only him, and he could only focus on you, eyes tracing the blood as it dripped down your cheeks to your neck, dribbling down your skin. With creased brows and lips pressed together tightly, he couldn’t tell if the look you were directing toward him was suspicion or anger or something else entirely. The only thing he could feel from you was what he assumed were the remnants of the confrontation with Theta: fear, anxiety, skepticism, confusion, disgust. 
Disgust, was that directed toward him or Theta or both of them? It didn’t sit well with him. He wondered how much Theta had told you, and he wondered how much you’d been able to piece together from what he had. Dottore had been hoping to keep the existence of the segments a secret from you. 
The last thing he wanted to have to do was get into depth about what they were because if he knew you even half as well as he thought he did, he knew it would turn into an interrogation of all that he’d been up to with his research. Even when you were young, when the third phase of the bond had first manifested, he had to be careful about what he was thinking about so that it wasn’t transcribed to you. Countless times he received words from you that could have only been originally given by him: the names of the segments, residue, deactivate, and Dottore knew that you must be taking every word he sent you to relentlessly research into them. 
“Doctor,” Pantalone finally drawled as Dottore came to a stop in front of them, forcing his attention away from you just for a second. “It’s about time that you’ve leashed your mad dog, I’m quite tired of dealing with him.”
Dottore didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he focused his attention back onto you—the only apparent wounds were the deep scratch marks on your cheek and wrist, painful but mostly superficial. It would heal in a few days at most, he would pass along an ointment to Pantalone so he could give it to you to speed along the healing process. 
The issue for Dottore laid in the boy tucked neatly in your arms, hiding his face against your skin.
The Kappa segment. 
Dottore exhaled. That would be trouble trying to handle. The Kappa segment was skittish and nervous. He usually only stuck around Epsilon, Iota or Gamma, he even tried to avoid the other segments if he could. Dottore had a feeling that it was because they reminded him of their father but he couldn’t be sure. 
Either way, he had never latched onto someone like this before and Dottore had a feeling it would be an issue trying to get him away from you. He didn’t like shutting down the younger segments—or any of the segments for that matter because it tended to mess with their wiring—but he thought he might have to in order to get the kid back to the estate without alerting the entire palace to your presence and relationship to him. 
His eyes lingered on you, only for a few more moments, watching the way you held Kappa close, arms wrapped around him tightly as if to shield him from danger. Kappa seemed like he was on the verge of dozing off, his shoulders rising and falling steadily—he’d never seen him so comfortable with someone that wasn’t Epsilon before. Something unfamiliar tightened his chest. Longing? Desire? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. 
He looked away sharply, finally turning his attention to Pantalone. 
“Regrator, don’t act as if you spend all of your free time reluctantly handling my segments. You are usually asking for them, in fact,” Dottore said dryly. He barely spared you another look as he said: “I’ll handle this. Go back to your room and rest.”
Your face twisted and Dottore bit back a sigh, realizing that round three of his war of words with you was about to begin.
“I am not a child,” you shot back, voice tight. “You can’t just send me to my room. I have questions and you will give me answers now. I’ve waited long enough.”
Dottore had a feeling that you were not just talking about the past few hours. You were talking about the decade he had spent ignoring your existence. Unfortunately for you, he had no interest in answering your questions, not now or ever. 
He turned his attention back to Pantalone, ignoring the furious look that spread across your face at being blatantly ignored. Luckily—or unluckily, time would tell—Epsilon stepped in. He watched as your brows dipped in suspicion, looking between Epsilon and Dottore warily. If you hadn’t put together something was very, very wrong with the existence of Kappa, Gamma and Theta already, he had a feeling that Epsilon’s appearance just sealed it. 
Dottore turned away as Epsilon took your hand in his to press his lips to your knuckles before he gently led you in the direction of the door on the left. Gamma and Iota followed behind, the latter far more excited than the former. Gamma cast one last pleading look in Dottore’s direction just as Iota slammed the door shut behind them. 
Dottore, as he turned his attention to Theta’s still body, thought this might just be the worst case scenario. All three of the children. Theta. Epsilon. The last segments Dottore wanted meeting you all somehow managed to do just that within hours of you being in Zapolyarny. This would spread to all of the rest of the segments in no time and then he would have Zeta demanding to see proof of your existence and Rho lurking about curious; he’d have Delta bashing down the palace door to get Iota away from you, convinced by Lambda that you were only here to deceive them. And he’d have Lambda doing god knows what to try to remove your existence from their lives so they could continue their research without distraction. 
He needed a plan of action and he needed it fast but first, he had to deal with this. 
“What happened?” 
“Two aristocrats came up looking for the Kappa segment,” Pantalone said off-handedly. “Your soulmate interfered.”
“Interfered?” Dottore demanded. “What was she doing wandering around?”
Pantalone raised his eyebrows. “Was I meant to lock her in her room?”
Dottore looked at him coldly, silently telling him yes, he should have. They could not afford to have any of their subordinates run into you, much less any of the Harbingers and he knew that some of them would be searching for you. He remembered Columbina’s cryptic comment about you a few months ago, Sandrone’s fury at your presence in Snezhnaya, Arlecchino’s odd interest in you—and if Arlecchino was interested, it was only a matter of time before she sent her attack dog after you to find out whatever she wanted to know. Keeping you isolated from the rest of the Fatui was paramount.
“What happened with Theta?” Dottore asked after Pantalone let out an exaggerated sigh of agreement. 
“What always happens with Theta,” Pantalone said dismissively. “He gets set off and lashes out. Was going on about her faking the bond, apparently Lambda is going around convincing them she’s lying.”
Of course, Dottore thought bitterly. He knew that Lambda had been talking to Zeta, Delta and Rho but he thought the segment knew better than to get Theta wound up about this. 
He took a deep breath, taking a step away to calm himself down. Well, that made that decision: the first thing he had to do was talk to Lambda, he couldn’t have him turning the segments against you, least of all Theta, who was very liable to attack those that he thinks did him wrong. After that, he would figure out what to do with the rest of the segments because in stopping Lambda, he would have to admit to them all that you were his soulmate, that this was all real. 
That this was all real. 
Dottore shut his eyes briefly, unconsciously looking in the direction of where you, Epsilon and the kids had disappeared behind the dark door that led to your room. His body itched to follow them in there—the bond in work, surely, but he could feel it was getting stronger. It was stronger than it was while he had been dancing with you, and even stronger than it had been while talking to you outside of the washroom. He should just grab Theta and drag him back down to his lab, leaving Epsilon to deal with your interrogation, but his feet weren’t cooperating.
“You should speak to her,” Pantalone said as he turned to go back to his own room. “If you’re going to have me confine her to this wretched place, you should at the very least, explain to her why… lest you have a very unhappy soulmate on your hands. I doubt that would be conducive to productivity.” 
Dottore hummed dismissively, glancing back at the door once. He supposed should, he didn’t want to deal with your turbulent emotions, especially when he was going to be dealing with the segments. 
Distantly, a part of him wondered if he was just using that as a logical excuse to give in to the pull of the bond. 
“And Doctor, do get me that prototype by the morning as promised.”
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You felt overwhelmed. The older boy, Gamma, was sitting in the corner of your room, knees tucked to his chest as he watched you with the younger two. Kappa was fast asleep now, tiny arms slung around your neck as he slept—you had tried to place him down on your bed but whenever you tried to pull him away from you, his arms tightened and he started stirring awake. The other one, you didn’t know his name yet, was kneeling on the floor next to the bed where you were sitting, big red eyes peeked above the comforter, watching you with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust and longing.
He had the same scar on the upper half of his face that Gamma did, you couldn’t help but notice, down to the burn patterns and wrinkles. And they were identical, if Gamma was a few years younger, he’d be the spitting image of the kid. It was impossible. Not even brothers can be so similar as to be identical down to the wrinkles and patterns in scars. 
So, what were they?
You had to have been onto something when you thought it was some sort of experiment—Kappa was too young to have been born eight years ago, Gamma and the new kid were too similar in appearances, if you saw correctly when Kappa partially knocked off the mask even Theta seemed to have some scars on his face, and Theta and Kappa both showed a strength that did not reflect in their body.
A throat being cleared knocked you out of your thoughts, your eyes drew up from the kids to where the man was standing near the door. He gave you a small, apologetic smile as his eyes met yours—red and gentle. 
Who was this?
You watched the man with thinly veiled suspicion. He looked just like Dottore, silvery blue hair styled the same way and even wearing a similar dark button-up that he did. 
Except unlike Dottore, he was not wearing a mask. 
His skin was smooth compared to the scars of the children and instead of the ever-present frown of Dottore, the corner of his lips were turned up. You had grown used to the cold aloofness of your soulmate over the years, it unnerved you how someone could look so much like him and yet feel entirely different. 
You raised your chin as Epsilon came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, keeping your expression stony, studying him to try to figure out what he wanted from you.
“Peace,” he murmured. “I’d just like to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” 
He had a white handkerchief between his fingers and you were acutely aware of the blood still dripping down your cheeks and arm. He raised his eyebrows, but sighed when he realized you weren’t going to budge, placing the handkerchief back in his pocket. 
“Very well,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them if you’d like.”
Of course you had questions, but could you trust him to answer them? 
He didn’t appear as if he was trying to deceive you, his eyes were warm and his lips were lax, he had none of that tightness that Dottore usually had. Was he faking it? Or was he wanting to help you? You couldn’t tell, his demeanor was throwing you off.
“You’re really her?” a new, young voice said softly, voice hesitant but tinged with the slightest bit of hope that had your heart aching. You looked back toward the kid as he peered up at you through thick curls of hair cautiously. “Our soulmate?”
Our.
Your ears rang, distantly watching as the boy reached out for your hand, thin fingers playing with yours until he reached the one your thread was looped around. From the corner of your eye, you looked at the older man, who was watching you with a knowing expression.
Our.
How was that possible? He could clearly see your thread, trying to play with it and tug at it in the same way you used to as a child, but he had no connecting one, like the Doctor did. Did that make you his soulmate but he was not yours? Was there such a thing as unrequited soulmates? But you didn’t think it was that simple, there was a critical piece of information you were still missing.
But the kid was looking at you again, anxiously awaiting your response, and you didn’t have the heart to deny him. Even if you weren’t sure what was going on, he could undeniably see your thread.
“Yes,” you finally said, watching as he lit up, red eyes pooling with tears and lips trembling as he flung himself forward, burying his face into your lap. He jostled Kappa, who kicked his foot out instinctively, but the kid was unbothered.
“I knew you were real.” His voice was muffled into the cloths of your dress. “Everyone said you weren’t but I knew you were.”
Your throat tightened and your now free hand twitched from where it was laying on the comforter of your bed, coming up to pat his head.
You let out a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to focus on the man still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an indecipherable expression.
“I’ve never seen them take to someone like this before,” he said softly. “I suppose it’s just further proof that you are who you claim to be. Some of the others thought it might be a ploy.”
Others, you wondered distantly but you were more focused on the last thing he said, face twisting.
“I would not fake a soul bond,” you said tightly, mind turning to your stepfather and your mother, your dead father and your destroyed family.
“I insulted you,” he realized. “My apologies, it was not my intention. I was not one of the ones that thought that way but I figured it was best for you to know and prepare, some of them might doubt you when they meet you.”
“How many of you are there?” you asked, but the more important question that you just couldn’t push out was what are you?
“Excluding the Doctor, there are nine of us. I’m called Epsilon. Kappa is the youngest, then Iota, who is on your lap, and then Gamma, who’s sitting over there,” he explained.
You looked back over to where Gamma was sitting. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out the window into the dark night… or maybe he was. Amused, you realized that he was still watching you carefully through the reflection of the window. As soon as he realized that you noticed what he was doing, he turned his head away quickly.
“He’ll warm up,” Epsilon said quietly. You looked back toward him, watching as his lips turned up, red eyes glittering, as if sharing some secret with you. “He’s nervous.”
You couldn’t help the way you let out a puff of amusement, studying Gamma and the way he was digging his nails into the palm of his hand and tapping his foot against the wood of the window nook incessantly. 
“I don’t… really understand all of this,” you finally admitted, relaxing a bit with Epsilon. You let yourself lean back against the large, decorative pillows set up on the bed, watching the man that looked eerily similar to Dottore, wondering if this was what he looked like beneath the mask as well.
“This is new for all of us too,” Epsilon told you, “so I can’t really explain to you what all of the bonds might be or mean… but I’m sure that is not what you’re asking right now, is it?”
“Not entirely, at least. First I’d like to understand…”
What you are. What they are. Why you can see the thread and why the children think that I’m their soulmate too.
“Well, I’ll do my best at explaining then. You deserve that much at least.”
The heavy weight on your chest lifted, if only a little. You thought that this might be the first time in weeks, months, that someone was actually giving you answers. Your father passed and left you with only questions, the masked person from the inn gave you even more questions and not a single answer, and now even Dottore refused to answer your questions, he just sent you away for Pantalone to deal with. 
“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes meeting his again.
Epsilon gave you a small smile, lips parting to speak but before he could say anything, the door to your room opened again. Your gaze shot up, eyes falling upon a familiar masked figure standing in the frame, lips pressed together tightly. 
“Epsilon,” Dottore said coldly. “Bring Theta down to the lab.”
Epsilon sighed heavily, shooting you an apologetic look before rising to his feet. “Another time,” he offered, and you nodded, disappointed, ignoring how Dottore’s lips turned downward.
Epsilon made his way out of the room, slipping past Dottore, and Gamma threw himself off the nook and scampered after Epsilon, fleeing the room without another look toward you. 
The door slam shut behind them, an eerie silence sweeping over the room as he left you with Dottore.
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Dottore’s already sour mood worsened when Epsilon flung him a triumphant look as soon as his back was turned to you. He wondered what he said to you in those few minutes he was in here alone with you but for some reason, he doubted that you would tell him and he by no means wanted to add more fuel to the fire by appearing interested in you. Narrowed eyes followed Epsilon as he left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him and the Gamma segment so he could speak to you without unwelcome ears listening in.
The Kappa and Iota segments made no move to leave—one being fast asleep and the other now watching Dottore suspiciously, shifting behind you to peek over your shoulder at him. Dottore could see the boy clutching something in his hand, knuckles white around the object and arms tensed as if ready to throw it. Dottore raised his eyebrows, albeit knowing neither of you could see the action anyway. 
He ignored Iota and drew closer to the bed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the mattress that Epsilon had been sitting on as he observed you. You looked exhausted—your eyes looked heavy and tired, they didn’t have the same spark in them that they had earlier in the night, and the blood from the scratch marks on your was smeared messily, staining your skin and dress. 
Irritated, Dottore wondered why Epsilon hadn’t cleaned it up, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and shifting a little closer. He grabbed your arm first, ignoring that tingling sensation as it reappeared as soon as the pads of his fingers were pressed against your bare skin, and especially ignoring the red thread tied around your finger. 
He could feel your eyes on him as he carefully wiped away the blood, distantly noting that Iota had shimmied out from behind you and was darting to the opposite side of the room. 
“He will not bother you again,” Dottore finally said, sparing a look to the side as Iota approached from the side, this time with bandages. He eyed the boy curiously, wondering if this room was one of the places he fled to those rare times he was stuck in the palace and got overwhelmed by the amount of people. Iota turned his head away pointedly and Dottore just shook his head, taking the bandages and wrapping them neatly around your wrist and forearm. 
You didn’t respond to him and Dottore glanced up at you, waiting for you to say something. You looked away, Dottore bit back an irritated sigh, tying off the bandage and moving a bit closer to look at your face.
“Thought they just called you a doctor for the irony,” you snipped half-heartedly, keeping your eyes averted as his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning your head to the side to see just how deep Theta had cut you.
Dottore let out an amused puff of air. “They do,” he drawled, “but I’m usually presented as one to acquire more willing test subjects. I must at least know the basics.” 
You gave him a withering look from the corner of your eye, bottom lip pushed out. He was grateful for his mask hiding the way his gaze lingered on it, focusing back on the scratch marks. They weren’t too deep but he didn’t have an ointment with him to spread over them, so instead he just pressed the handkerchief to the skin, cleaning up the blood.
“What are they?” you asked, eyes steeled for an argument. 
Dottore sighed heavily, considering briefly trying to avoid the subject but you did not seem keen on letting this slide and he was not in the mood for an argument. He wanted to get this done and get out of your room as soon as possible, even if his body was betraying him by allowing his fingers to linger on your cheek as he wiped away the blood. 
“They are me.”
Concise and to the point, as he always was, Dottore waited for the explosion of questions and demands to come from you but you only stared at him, studying him. Again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because he did not like the way he felt beneath your gaze.
“How?” you finally questioned. 
“Experimentation,” Dottore said dryly, your eyes narrowed as if that was an obvious answer. His lip unconsciously pulled up into a smirk. “I was able to isolate and extract my consciousness at specific periods of my life after years of study into-”
“Irminsul,” you finished for him, voice little over a breath and eyes darting down to your forearm. 
Dottore’s lips pressed into a thin line, watching you carefully—he did not like that, or did he? A part of him was impressed that you’d managed to put it together so easily just from the little he said and the words that had been transcribed to you through the bond. But on the same note, he thought that the fact that the bond had given you enough words to so easily string together how he had gone about his research was unnerving. 
Not for the first time since the bond appeared, Dottore felt distinctly violated. 
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Study into Irminsul. All I had to do was create vessels for the consciousnesses after extracting them.”
“And they are… you?” 
You were looking at Kappa with a different expression now, Dottore couldn’t figure out what it was but it made him uncomfortable, vulnerable. There was a reason why he made sure to keep all of the younger segments far, far away from people. Dottore let his hand drop back to his lap, folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket. 
“Yes.” His voice came out colder and sharper, and you caught the change in tone, looking up at him quickly with furrowed brows. “I’ll be taking them back to the labs.”
You didn’t look pleased, frowning as you looked down at Kappa, who was still fast asleep. Behind Dottore, Iota let out a noise of protest but Dottore only had to turn his head to the side to stop the boy from speaking his complaint out loud. 
“So what? You’re just going to leave again?” you asked harshly.
“Did you think I was going to stay?” he quipped back, sarcasm dripping from his words. “That you and the younger segments and I were just going to be one happy family?” 
To your credit, you didn’t look too perturbed by the harsh words but he knew it affected you, if the way your grip tightened on Kappa had anything to say about it.
“You can’t just keep me here,” you spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not-”
“You’ll find that I can do whatever I want,” Dottore corrected, rising to his feet. 
You didn’t hesitate, shifting Kappa down to lay on the bed next to you as you moved forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist to hold him in place. A commendable effort, but all it would take was one quick snap of his wrist to free it from your hold…
But he did not snap away his wrist. As easy as it would have been, instead he just stood there, staring down at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. He tensed as if to pull away but his body didn’t cooperate—he blamed it on the bond but he wasn’t so sure that was the case.
“I’m not done,” you said. “I have more questions.”
“Another time,” he dismissed, finally forcing himself to pull his wrist back. Again, he felt a strange void as soon as the pressure of your fingers was removed from him. “I’ve wasted enough time tonight.”
Wasted?
“Wasted?” you echoed his very thought, scoffing loudly before shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t really care. What I do care about is knowing what that energy was around Pantalone—what was that?”
Dottore looked at her steadily from beneath his mask. “That is none of your business,” he said coolly. “Do not go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong lest you find yourself a guest here forever.”
The look you gave him was nothing short of murderous. “As if I won’t be already,” you spat, rising to your feet to take a few steps closer to him after he moved away. Dottore remained rooted in place, looking down at you. “I will not be kept here like a caged animal.”
“Then maybe you should not act like one.”
“Excuse me?” Dottore’s words held no weight, but he did very much enjoy goading reactions out of you, watching as your face twisted in fury at the insult. “I came here for a reason, Doctor, and that reason was not to be imprisoned by you. I have information I need to find and one way or another, I will acquire it. You can either-”
“You will do as I say so long as you’re in this palace,” Dottore said, cutting you off by pinching your cheeks between his fingers and tilting your face up to look at him. “Just because we have a bond forced on us by Celestia does not make you untouchable, control that tongue of yours before it lashes at the wrong person. Once I get the information I want, I will consider getting you what you want. Then, we will never have to see each other again. Until then, you have reaped what you sowed and it is no one’s fault but your own that you were not adequately prepared for the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”
Just for a second, he watched as a helpless expression spread across your face, eyes glassy and lips pressed together tight as you stared up at him. His tongue itched to say something else but no words formed on it before you snapped your face out of his hold, looking away. 
“Get out.”
A part of him wanted to refuse just to be spiteful—was it spite? Or was it something else, that heavy feeling weighing at his chest? That was a question he was not ready to answer, so instead, he smiled thinly:
“Gladly.”
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i promise they’re going to start warming up to each other soon more than just in their internal narration <.< soon as in very soon wait til you see the scene i have planned
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RBS APPRECIATED!
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devildom-moss · 8 months
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PDA - kissing their cheeks (the dateables)
What happens when MC decides to kiss their cheek around others? It couldn't possibly go wrong, right?
(Diavolo x gn!MC) (Barbatos x gn!MC) (Simeon x gn!MC) (Solomon x gn!MC)
(Suggestive)
Word Count: +1,900
Diavolo
It’s hard to kiss Diavolo’s cheek in public – in part because Barbatos has warned you about inappropriate displays of affection with the prince (he’s right, but he might also be a bit jealous, too). However, a bit of affection in front of close friends isn’t too bad. It’s not like you can get Diavolo alone whenever you want. Certainly, Barbatos and Diavolo can excuse a bit of impropriety from time to time.
As often seemed to be the case, Diavolo was stuck in the student council room with a large stack of documents. Lucifer and Barbatos were hard at work by his side. Satan was typing up documents on his cat-deco covered computer. Mammon, Levi, and Belphegor were also tasked with simple clerical work – although only two of the three were currently of any use. Barbatos was permitting Belphegor to nap for another five minutes before a harsh awakening was due. All this to say that the council room was busy but relatively calm this afternoon. You had finished up your work – and just in time for your study session with Solomon, who had appeared in the doorframe. He waited patiently, a smug grin on his face, content to steal you away from the others for some one-on-one time, as you walked up to Diavolo with your stack of forms.
“I just finished up. The blue tabs indicate areas that require your signature.” You smiled at him, knowing that you had taken an extra minute or two to draw small hearts on each of those tabs. “That’s all of it, correct?”
“Yes, thank you, MC,” Diavolo spoke flatly and mindlessly set your stack of forms on the table without looking at you or his newly acquired work. He still had so much to do. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Diavolo hated paperwork almost as much as pickles – okay so maybe it wasn’t quite as bad, but you could tell he was channeling extra effort to sit there and perform his duties.
“Alright, then I’m heading out to study with Solomon. But first,” you paused to walk around his desk. You wanted to give him some of your strength somehow. It wasn’t much, but you bent down and placed a firm kiss on his cheek, lingering just long enough for someone else in the room to irritably clear his throat. With your lips still close to him, you spoke quietly, “do your best, My Lord.”
There was an intentionally seductive tinge to the words “My Lord” that was not missed by anyone who heard it – least of all Diavolo. A subtle look of surprise stayed plastered on his face. He was so focused on his work; Diavolo hadn’t expected that. As you walked towards the door, Diavolo redirected his strength to keep himself still in his seat – anything to stop from chasing after you.
You disappeared down the hall with Solomon too quickly for Diavolo’s liking. A smile played on his lips, and he let out a chuckle that fell from him like a sigh. How bold of you. Diavolo could still feel the heat in his cheek – but now it had spread to both cheeks and up his ears.
“Back to work, please, My Lord,” Barbatos chided him.
Diavolo continued with his work. His smile was slow to leave his lips, and it was renewed when he noticed the blue tabs you left on the forms. You were full of surprises today, and once his work was complete, Diavolo was determined to reward such thoughtful surprises.
Barbatos
You didn’t intend to kiss him, but Barbatos was always so attentive when you had tea at the Demon Lord’s castle. An overwhelming urge to dote on him – even just a bit – came over you. When Barbatos leaned down with his face mere inches away to pour your tea, before you could think about it, your lips were pressed to his cheek. It was enough to stall the active conversation between Lucifer and Diavolo. Even Simeon and Solomon, who were passive participants, had turned to watch the spectacle.
That silence brought you back to your senses, and you quickly pulled back and apologized, realizing it was probably inappropriate.
Barbatos smiled at you sweetly. “Don’t fret over it. It was very sweet of you, and I’m grateful, but I am still on duty. You should restrain yourself. There are more opportune moments for you to get your lips all over me.”
“Barbatos?!” Diavolo’s eyes widened, bewildered.
“I jest, My Lord,” Barbatos chuckled. “However, MC, if you would like to properly make it up to me, could you assist me in finishing the preparation for dessert in the kitchen? An extra pair of hands might be useful.”
“Of course.” You shot out of your seat almost too eagerly.
“We’ll return shortly, My Lord.”
“Wonderful,” Diavolo smiled, “thank you, Barbatos.”
Lucifer noticed a small drop of tea on the saucer next to your cup. Barbatos was usually so careful. He rubbed his temples knowingly. “That was a horrible idea.”
“Nonsense, Lucifer. Barbatos wouldn’t do anything untoward with MC in the kitchen.”
“He said nothing about Barbatos doing anything with MC in the kitchen,” Simeon pointed out. “Perhaps you already had your own doubts.”
“Should we check on them?” Solomon wondered aloud.
“I don’t see a need for that,” Diavolo shook his head and tried to resume the previous conversation he was having. However, the seeds of doubt in his mind had sprouted into something more substantial when you and Barbatos returned fifteen minutes later with a trifle that could well have been prepared ahead of time. Your bottom lip appeared redder and slightly puffier than Diavolo had remembered.
You and Barbatos continued to steal glances at each other throughout the tea. It didn’t go unnoticed, but neither of you cared – not after the desperation Barbatos had to make the most of those fifteen minutes. Certainly, nothing mattered after Barbatos had pulled away from you, panting slightly, and whispered in your ear: Don’t leave with the others later. After I’m dismissed tonight, I’d like to continue this when I can thoroughly show you my appreciation for that adorable gesture earlier. Barbatos had returned said gesture by pressing his lips to your cheek before he slipped out of your embrace to pull the trifle from the fridge. Neither of you could stop thinking about it.
Simeon
Simeon had baked for you – well, actually, he had baked for everyone, but you were the one he was thinking about the entire time. As he passed out cupcakes, he saved you for last, figuring everyone would be preoccupied enough by their treats that he could avoid attention when he gave you the final cupcake. This one was just for you. Yours was the only one with a small chocolate heart on top.
Under the sweetness of Simeon’s smile, there was a hint of mischief. He always found tiny, secretive ways to take hold of your attention. However, you knew you should probably dispose of the evidence before anyone caught on. Mammon would lose his mind and Leviathan would assemble the PDA-police, and you didn’t even want to think about what anyone else would do. You plucked the heart from atop the frosting and popped it into your mouth (cutely, Simeon would insist).
“You have frosting on your finger,” Simeon pointed out with that same, slightly devious smile. Playfully, you smeared a bit of the frosting from your fingertip onto his cheek. The cool sensation of frosting and your soft touch made him giggle. “Very cute.”
Simeon moved to wipe it off, but you grabbed his hand gently to stop him. “Wait, allow me.”
You kissed his cheek, lapping at the frosting on his skin. Simeon could feel his face heat up. Usually, he tried not to cause a scene in front of the others – just to avoid the inevitable trouble. However, if you wanted to initiate it, he wasn’t going to stop you, even though this was more than just a peck on the cheek. You were practically licking him in front of the demons and Solomon in a classroom. The door wasn’t even shut. Simeon wouldn’t dare admit how much he was enjoying this – savoring it.
“Did you get it all?” he asked, feigning innocence that no one was convinced of. You gave him one more lingering kiss on his cheek.
It was as if everyone was waiting for the scene to finish before they could speak. Then, the protest raged.
“You sneaky bastard,” Mammon barked.
“Honestly, do either of you have any shame?” Lucifer rolled his eyes.
“MC, darling, I have frosting on my lips. Will you get it for me?” Asmo cooed.
“Don’t waste frosting, Asmo.” Beel narrowed his eyes. “But I bet frosting and MC’s lips would be a tasty combination.”
“Beelzebub, I caution you against attempting to taste MC.” Barbatos sighed.
“If anyone’s going to eat MC, it should be me, right?” Lucifer smirked at you.
“Like hell,” Satan growled.
“Yeah, you’re being as selfish and greedy as Mammon,” Belphegor added.
“Pardon me?”
You’d really done it now. Under the cover of chaos, Simeon pulled you out into the hallway so you could both escape. However, before you could start down the hall, Simeon pulled you close enough to whisper in your ear. “You know, I have leftover frosting in the freezer at home. Perhaps I could return the favor?”
Solomon
It had become a group effort to get on your nerves today, and Lucifer wasn’t actually helping by focusing his anger on Levi and Mammon. His yelling didn’t stop Satan and Asmo, who were still arguing. Diavolo served as their mediator. Meanwhile, Barbatos was practically forcing food down Beel’s throat while holding him down in an attempt to sate his ravenous hunger – all with a sleeping Belphegor tossed over his shoulder. You were about to command all the brothers to “stay” and deal with Lucifer getting caught in the crossfire later when Solomon showed up. The textbook he wanted to lend you was clutched firmly to his chest. When he finally took in his surroundings, he could tell you were about to snap.
“Hold this for a second please, MC.” Solomon handed you the book with a smile. Using magic, he silenced and immobilized all the troublemakers. He gave them a stern warning to “behave for the sake of poor, overwhelmed MC.”
That pulled the right strings, and he knew he was safe to release them from his spell. The room fell quiet for a second before shameful apologies began to be muttered from various offenders. Your shoulders finally relaxed, and you thanked your wonderful, helpful, gem of a teacher.
“If only there was a way you could reward me for helping,” Solomon hummed while deliberately tapping his cheek.
You rolled your eyes before leaning in to kiss his cheek. There were about half a dozen annoyed groans harmonizing with Mammon’s shrieking before you could pull away.
Even when you did, you didn’t get far before Solomon grabbed you, pulled you close, and kissed your lips. He was almost hungry about it, and you had to force yourself to be quiet. Solomon was less restrained. Under the jealousy, Asmo was proud of Solomon for those soft moans and putting on such a stunning show.
Once he had sufficiently made his statement, Solomon broke the kiss and just grinned at you. “No need to be so shy next time.”
It was as if he was oblivious to the daggers being stared into him. The aura in the room was so tense and violent – and all that negativity was directed at him. But he was not oblivious. He simply didn’t care. He had just kissed you in front of everyone, and there was nothing they could do about it. Solomon was too pleased.
(the side characters version) | (the demon brothers version)
A/N: there's a poll up for September's community-decided fic, so go ahead and vote while you can if you're so inclined. Also, if anyone remembers the last chat text I did, the answer was Asmo, Satan, and *insert entire page worth of ad content* Levi. (But I agree with those who hoped and wanted it to be Lucifer)
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multifandomfanficss · 1 month
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F*ck You?
Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader
and the rest of the 11th Street Kids
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Adrian Chase Masterlist
Prompt: Adrian has his own secret way of asking you to sleep with him.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, but no actual sex. The team bullying Adrian as per cannon ☹️. Peacemaker typical language.
A/N: Just a silly little thought I had at 5am during a text convo with one of my best friends when I couldn’t sleep. Shout out Tyler for letting me bounce this idea off you. Thanks bestie! Just a short little fic. The italics are flashbacks. Crossposting on my AO3 adriansglasses.
Adrian stuck his middle finger up, pointed at you. You were going through some files on the other side of the room unable to see him behind the papers you were focusing on. Those who saw were giving him questioning looks.
“Dude why are you flipping off, (Y/N)? I didn’t realize you were mad at them” Economos decided to be the first to question him. Usually he didn’t care enough to ask, but even he was curious as to why Adrian was enthusiastically flipping you off.
“Oh! That’s because I’m not. I just wanna have sex when we get back to my apartment. I was saying can I fuck you.” Adrian says, as if it’s obvious. Chris begins to laugh, having overheard the conversation.
“Oh my god. I’m not sure if you’re insane or an idiot.” Harcourt rolls her eyes, walking away.
“I’m pretty sure he’s both. You know that’s not what that means right?” Economos questions.
“It has two meanings.” Adrian says in a very matter of fact way.
“No, it doesn’t.” John argues.
“Then how do they always know what I mean?” Adrian asks, as if he’s proving his point.
Chris continues to laugh to himself as Adrian and Economos argue.
You’re deep in thought, not paying them any attention when Leota passes you the file you were looking for.
“Thanks!” You smile at her.
“Why is Adrian flipping you off?” She asks.
You look over at him, blushing. You nod.
“See!” Adrian yells throwing up his arms. “Two meanings! I told you!”
“Oh god.” You blush, hiding your face in one of the files. You didn’t need the entire team knowing you were going home to have sex after this, but it’s not like it was that big of a surprise. You’d been dating Adrian for a while, of course you had a sex life. “I don’t know how or why he got it into his head that fuck you means can I fuck you- but like I personally think it’s very clever and very cute so I just don’t correct him.” You laugh, deciding to be honest with Leota.
You thought back to the first time he flipped you off in such a manner. You were out with the team celebrating with drinks after a mission. He threw up his middle finger, drawing a question mark in the air with the other hand. You looked at him with a confused look and mouthed. ‘Are you asking me to have sex with you?’ and he mouth back, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. Only Adrian could think something like that was obvious. Only Adrian would even do something like that. You smiled, laughing quietly to yourself. It was so uniquely him.
Chris was still laughing uncontrollably in the back. He was thinking of the first time he’d seen Adrian do this too. Little did everyone else know Chris had been the one to teach it to him long before you were dating.
“You really wanna know how I pick up chicks across the bar?” Chris asked with a shit eating smirk.
“Please!” Adrian begged. He could pull girls as Vigilante no problem, but it was a lot harder without the suit.
“Be direct. Just ask if she wants to go home with you. The most subtle way to be direct is to flip her off.” Chris falsely informs.
“Wait… you want me to be subtle and direct? I’m confused.” Adrian asks.
“Well, yeah. You want her to know, not the whole bar.” Chris quickly lies.
“I always thought flipping somebody off was an insult.” Adrian is rightfully cautious.
“It has two meanings. It’s like special. Special can mean you’re one of a kind, cool, awesome, or it could be used the other way.” Chris explains.
“Oh! Okay!” Adrian smiles, before pausing, with a pondering facial expression. “Wait! You call me special all the time.”
“You should hit on that girl over there!” Chris redirects.
“Okay… here goes nothing…” Adrian says, slowly raising his middle finger. The girl looks shocked and starts to walk up to the two men at the bar. “Oh wow! I think it worked!”
Her pace picks up. She walks up to Adrian, slapping him, hard.
“Wait! This is positive! I’m hitting on you!” Adrian says frantically with his finger still up, as she walks away.
“Aw! Fuck! Do you think maybe she had a boyfriend?” Adrian asks, adjusting his glasses and rubbing his jaw.
“Yeah, maybe.” Chris laughs hysterically.
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pursuitseternal · 4 months
Text
“The Second Day” of “Antics of the Newly Ascended:” staring Batstarion🦇
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Ascended Astarion x F!Reader |E| 1.3K Pure antics and comedy
🦇 art by @marimosalad Link to full art
Summary: You can’t pick a lock without your Rogue, even if he is Ascnedant now. So you wait… and wait… until a new unexpected visitor flies in.
CW: Banter, Poop jokes, Tav filtering Astarion’s threats and antics, sneezes, and cute fluffy vampiric bats with an attitude 🦇 (no smut)
Previous Ch | Ao3 link | Masterist
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
“Hells, what is taking him so…flipping long?”
For a split second, you think Gale might actually swear, but no. The goody-two-shoes scout wins out in the end. You giggle anyway.
“Said he’d be back quick with a new set of lockpicks ready to go, Mister Ascendant Lord and expert of the underbelly of Baldur’s Gate…” Gale huffs and folds his arms crossly.
Karlach snorts next to you, both your backs leaning against the alley walls. You keep to the shadows, eyeing up the house you need to enter… surreptitiously. Those Flaming Fist have been everywhere lately, and you still needed your Rogue to break you in nearly everywhere in the City.
“He’s probably too busy doing Ascendant things to hurry, Gale,” Karlach chuckles, peering her horned head into the street.
“Like what?” you ask, folding your arms and pouting your lips, “what could he possibly be doing but rushing back to be with me?”
Gale rolls his eyes, seeing the wry expression on your face, he realizes you joke. “Oh, good one,” he chortles. “Oh lots of things, I would imagine if I applied my wildest musings…”
“Get to the point wizard!” Karlach slaps him on the back. “More taunting, fewer words.”
Gale sputters for air after having it knocked from his body. And you laugh at that.
Suddenly, you feel a breeze pass your face. A blur of white settles on the wall beside your head. Hanging upside down.
A fluffy white bat. It chitters at you.
“Oh shit,” Karlach jolts at the sight. “That thing is massive.”
It seems to chitter more.. proudly at that. You narrow your eyes at it… your other companions draw away a step, leaving the beast with space.
“If Astarion were here, he’d probably call it a snack and snatch it from the air…” Gale jabs, a self-confident smile on his face, proud of his own humor. His own best entertainment.
“Naw… he’s too busy picking out new fancy clothes…” Karlach peers into the street.
“Too busy trying to burst into a sea of mist…” Gale laughs.
You giggle, thinking of something he did just that morning, for an hour, “Preening his hair into a perfect coif before kissing his reflection…”
Gale’s mouth snaps shut. The bat on the wall chitters noisily again, flapping its wings as it comes to dart around your head. “That bat is all over you,” his eyes narrow, “but I’m fresh out of Speak with Animals potions for now.”
You shrug, “I don’t mind, maybe he’s lonely…” You hold out your hand, an offering to let the little mammal rest somewhere soft. “Gives me something to look after until Astarion comes back.”
“Don’t let him see you’ve got a new pet…” Gale taunts, leaning closer to peer at the creature that now rests in your palm, “He might get jealous and snap it up in his fangs.”
Does… is the bat… glaring at Gale?
You look closely, but Karlach guffaws. “Oh oh, I’ve got it. I think I know what’s keeping the Vampire Ascendant! He’s probably stuck taking his first shit in two-hundred years...”
Okay, now that bat in your palm is definitely glaring, and chittering, and… pissed. You look closely at last, it’s white fur catches the sun in shades of silver, its eyes are a deep red… almost a crimson…
You stop. “Astarion?” you murmur at the little creature, patting its head with a single finger.
It… He… bounces on your hand, chittering away, pointed little face nodding.
“For fucks sake…” Karlach groans. “How the fuck did you turn into that?”
Gale leans closer… but not too close just in case. “I’ve read that some Vampires can take forms themselves, if powerful enough.” He grins widely, “Could be ferocious werewolf, or noxious cloud…” that grin twists, “Yours is adorable, if I do say so myself, Astarion.”
You can almost hear the ire in the noises that he makes in reply. Still nonsense chatter, but the emotion is clear.
He is not amused.
“Gale, you do realize he will turn back, and he will be pissed,” you warn with a shake of your head. You freeze, a whisper tickling inside your mind as the creature in your palm twitches and rests. “Astarion says it’s not his fault you're a pack of incompetent… oh,” you pause, patting him on his head with a finger, “I’m not going to say that part, my love.”
“He’s… talking to you?” Gale twists his head and raises a brow. “Like, mind to mind?”
“Yes,” you nod, “we are just as baffled at the moment, I will be honest with you, even if he said not to tell you…” the bat starts scrabbling up your arm, chittering even more noisily than before. “Stop whining, darling. You’ll figure it out.” He comes to rest on your shoulder, hanging upside down from the seam of your shirt. “And he says he would rather you never again speculate about his bowel movements either, on pain of… I’m going to say, a severe talking to.”
“That’s not what he said is it?” Karlach guffaws.
You can’t help but let your finger scritch under his little chin as he dangles from your shoulder. “No, no,” you giggle as you watch his beady little eyes flutter shut at the petting. “He used his regular ascendantly foul mouth.”
“Well, Vampire Ascendant or not, he’s not going to be much help breaking and entering in that form, is he?” Gale snips, rolling his eyes.
“He says he would be more than happy to talk us through it, if we… oh, again? I’m not suggesting that, my pet,” you shake your head, removing your scratching finger to wag it at him. “Naughty,” you chide.
“How did you get like that anyway, Astarion?” Karlach chuffs, folding her arms and swaying on her feet.
“He sneezed,” you reply. “Oh, I wasn’t supposed to share that. I’m sorry, my love. You really should be more obvious about what is for my ears… er… mind alone.”
“Maybe…” Gale gives a mischievous grin, “if we get you to sneeze again… maybe you’ll change back to a form with fingers that can actually do some good.” He reaches into his pocket, takes out a little bit of powder, and blows.
The little bat writhes, fur standing on end, flat folded nose twitching before….
“Achoo!” The sneeze echoes off the alley walls, a burst of black mist that tingles your skin as his tall, lean and wiry body forms against your arm. You can sense his irritation, out right, cuttingly sharp annoyance lacing his angry breaths. Once the mist clears, Astarion is, in fact, glaring at you all. Crimson eyes dart from one to the next. “I am… going to fucking kill you,” he hisses.
“Shh…” you cajole, raising your finger to scritch under his smooth chin, clenched tight in his rage. Instantly, the moment you begin your gentle petting, he eases, eyes fluttering shut.
“I think he likes that, soldier,” Karlach whispers a giggle. “Do you feed him little treats when he’s a good boy?”
“Only if he gets us into that house with those dexterous hands of his,” you chuckle and slide your hand to stroke his cheek.
“Fine,” he sighs, exasperated, tired, and annoyed. “But not one of you breathes a word of this to Halsin… or Wyll… or… anyone.”
“Agreed,” Karlach slaps him on the back.
He begins rummaging his lithe fingers through his pack, turning those crimson eyes on you as you watch. “And you, my consort, don’t think I’m not going to make you pay for that mirror-kissing comment earlier…”
“Don’t think you won’t have to earn those chin scritches, my love,” you giggle in return as he flashes that fanged smirk at you.
“One more, my darling?” he purrs, watching the others start into the street already. “One for the road, one in case we die today?”
Your fingers reach quickly to oblige, his eyes closing to savor your attentive care. And you giggle, “Who can argue with that?”
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wrens-writings · 28 days
Text
The Monster’s Gone
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: ̗̀➛ Percy Jackson x platonic! child of Poseidon! reader
: ̗̀➛ in which big brother Percy saves the day
: ̗̀➛ oh gods, folks. here it is! my first piece of writing posted to tumblr. i have absolutely zero clue about what it is that i’m doing, but here we go!
: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS: bad writing (probably), allusions to angst. i don’t think anything else? lmk if i missed anything 🫶
percy adores being a big brother. someone that only he gets to pick on? that’s a bonus, yea, but the real reason he loves it? watching his little siblings grow up and experience the things their lives would offer.
with tyson, percy was his friend before he was his brother, but he still helps him to understand the world above the sea when applicable. tyson is like an overgrown puppy, a comparison that many people, including sally jackson herself, have pointed out.
and then of course, there’s sweet little estelle, who has her whole life ahead of her that percy just cannot wait to be a part of.
but then comes the outlier. you. don’t get him wrong! he loves you as much as he does all of his siblings. but you’re so traumatized that he just… doesn’t know what to do with you?
when he got to camp for the summer, excited and eager for a killer two and a half months with his girlfriend and his best friends, he was taken aback. normally, himself and tyson were the only two to be in poseidons cabin. yet there you were, a small 11 year old wringing their hands together in cabin 3.
percy had looked at you, eyes wide and full of confusion. “annabeth.” he murmured to the pretty blonde who stood beside him.
“yes, percy?” she responded carefully, seemingly already knowing what he was going to say next.
percy turned to his girlfriend, his face twisted with conflicting emotions. “why is there a child in my cabin and where did they come from?”
and thus begins the summer of percy jackson awkwardly tiptoeing around his new sibling. annabeth had explained to him that the poor kid was chucked into the foster system at a young age, forced to be exposed to more horrors than he would’ve liked for a sibling of his. but with those horrors, came a small issue.
how was he meant to get to know you if you were scared of your own shadow from the trauma you experienced? he knows firsthand just how terrifying this world can get. hades, he fought the chimera when he was just a year older than you and would’ve died if it weren’t for poseidon himself!
it isn’t all bad though. percy knows a handful of things about you. he knows that you like the beach (which, hey, so does he!), he knows that you like spicy food, reading, drawing, and he knows that you’ll probably shit bricks when you inevitably encounter your first monster.
the poor boy has this innate desire to protect you in the way you’ve never been protected before, but he’s so afraid to make you upset or uncomfortable. he’s stuck at a crossroads. so, what does he do?
wallows in his own mind because adhd is a bitch! eventually, despite his whining and complaining at the idea of hurting you, annabeth and grover manage to talk some sense into him.
“guys, i- i don’t know. they’re so young and so scared of everything. how would i even-“
“percy!” grover cuts him off, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. “think of it from y/n’s perspective. they show up after getting exposed to a world they are actually so scared of, and the only thing that makes them feel better is the promise of a big brother.”
percy sits in silence, his ears burning red with shame. annabeth puts her hand on his arm softly with a kinder approach. “just go talk to them. i promise they won’t bite you.” she reassures him. ever the daughter of wisdom, that one.
percy nods and stands up, intent on finding his new sibling, wanting to put them at ease, even just a little bit. he sets off, initially heading towards the beach.
when he arrives, his lips tug down into a frown. despite the beautiful scenery of camp, especially the view from the beach, you aren’t here. he peers through the pretty, looming trees, trying to catch a glimpse of you. his frown only deepens at the sight of your book bag, but no you. “y/n?” he calls out, his voice laced with fear.
when he gets no response, he scoops up your bag and carries it with him towards cabin 3, figuring you just forgot it like the absent minded kid he hopes you are. except, you aren’t in the cabin either. now he’s starting to worry.
he puts your bag down on your bed neatly before rushing back out. he double checks the beach— nothing. he checks the dining pavilion— also nothing. he looks around the arena, the climbing wall, the archery range, even stopping into the infirmary to see if you’re laying there injured and no one thought to tell him. but he turns pale as a sheet when will solace tells him he hasn’t seen you.
percy runs into the forest, uncapping Riptide as he leaps over a fallen log. of course, you probably just wandered off by accident. after all, why would you leave your book bag at the beach?
a scream that sounds heartbreakingly like you echoes from further in the woods and instantly he heads in that direction. didn’t anyone tell you that the woods are full of monsters?!
he breaks through the trees, slashing his sword clean through a hellhound as it lunges towards you. after a terrifying few moments alone while he secures your safety, percy takes you into his arms.
the hug is tight, protective, full of warmth and love, fear and panic. “shh, i’ve got you…” he whispered in your ear, trying to soothe your fearful blubbering. “the monster’s gone. he’s on the run, and your big brother is here.” he reassures you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.
he doesn’t care about the tears that soak his shirt, or even the snot that does the same thing. all he cares about is that you are safe and not injured. he pulls back from the tight hug briefly. “hey, kiddo. you hurt anywhere?” he whispers, his voice strained and fragile.
“n-no. ‘m okay…” you stammer out, your own voice matching his. he kisses your head again, breathing out a sigh of relief. “thank you, percy…” you whisper quietly in his ear. you can’t do much besides whisper at this point, and who is he to judge?
percy squeezes you tighter, his body shaking from the fear of you being hurt “always, kiddo. i’m always gonna be there when you need me. rain or shine, day or night. i’m your big brother. that’s my job.”
soooooo…? gimmie your thoughts, pls!! bare in mind that i’m scared shitless of constructive criticism tho 😭🤚
i’m not the greatest at writing fanfiction but i’m really eager to learn more. your feedback is much appreciated 🫶
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chibipeachu · 5 months
Text
Pretty Songbird || Aleksander M.
A/N: I watched snakes and songbirds and had this ideas stuck in my head ever since i saw it last week, idk if it's gonna be a series, if you have any ideas pls tell me!!
WC: 1311 Warning: Fem!Reader, the moon summoner trope, not proof read so i take credit for mispelling or mistakes..
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Alina sighed as herself and Mal walked into a busy club to get away from their pursuers.
“It should be too crowded to notice us in this crowd, just keep the hood on.” Mal whispered to Alina as they moved closer to the stage where others stood, waiting for the performer. 
“Want something?” 
Alina turned and nodded as Mal gave a quick nod before walking to the bartender.
As alina went to stand near a corner of the crowded club she bumped into another young girl. “Aww, sorry..” “Ah, i’m sorry.”  They both apologized to one another.
“It’s alright, just a throbbing but it’ll go away with a drink.” The girl brushed it off and gave alina a smile. 
“You look familiar..” Alina felt her heart drop, as the expression the girl made was of realization. “You’re her aren’t you?” Alina tensed up and lifted her hand in case she need to summon to stop the girl from doing something.
“It’s alright, your safe here, i just recommend the further booth over there if you don’t want to draw attention..” Alina followed the girls direction and saw an empty booth and nodded at her. “Thank you..?” She waited for a name.
“Y/n, i’m a performer here tonight.” She smiled and pointed towards the stage were drunks and many excited people stood waiting.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
People whispered to one another as they noticed the brooding, darkling who was accompanied with other grisha, they all had looks of distaste on their faces as they scanned the club. 
Alesksander’s attention jumped as two women in front of him talked about the performer. 
“Is it true she can summon?” 
“Rumors say she can but was sick during her testing and got dismissed.” 
Before any of them could provide aleksander with information, a young woman, dressed in a loose blouse and what looked like the first army pants.
“Based on all the chatter I could hear from back there, I assume it’s about myself?” You grinned as you scanned the crowd.
A mixed of positive responses came from the busy club.
Aleksander noticed how each of his grisha searched the crowd.
“Aww stop it, i’m blushing!” You playfully waved to the crowd before turning to the band who waited for your sign to play.
As the band started up, you danced around the stage a bit.
“So if you don’t know, i wrote this many, many, many years ago when i was stuck as a showstopper for tow men on each side of the fold, one more then the other..” You referenced to your pants before raising an eyebrow.
Aleksander wasn’t surprised, zlatan of course wouldn’t share a summoner with anyone, especially the king and aleksander.
“Can’t take my charm,
Can’t take my humor,
Can’t take my wealth, cause it’s just a rumor.
Nothing you can take was ever with keeping.
No nothing you can take was every worthing keeping.”
As alina listened to your singing she glanced around the room and froze as she spotted aleksander and the other grisha in the club.
Alina subtly nudged mal who popped up and ushered alina through the crowd to leave quickly.
As you took a breath, you felt yourself stop for a moment, as you took note of the dark eyes of the darkling.
“Thinking you’re so fine,
Thinking you could have mine.
Thinking in control, thinking you can change me, maybe rearrange me.
Think again if that’s your goal.” 
You stomped your boots at each sentence, making the crowd cheer.
Through the small break of your singing, you held strong eye contact with the darkling, from what zlatan had told you, he was saving you from the general who had “tossed your abilities aside” those were the only words you believed from the first general, you had tried to get test when you were a teen but got reject when you said you could summon.
“Can’t take my sass,
Can’t take my talking.
You can kiss my ass,
Then keep on walking!
Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping,
Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping.” You stared him down while continuing to sing.
Zoya scoffed as she followed your and aleksander’s gaze to one another. 
Aleksander looked away from you to look at the sour expression on her face.
“She’s insulting you to your face..” 
“I know..” He responded, his eyes moving back onto you which your eyes were closed as you finished the song.
“Nothing you can take from is worth dirt,
Take it cause i’d give it free, it won’t hurt.
Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping..”
As you finished the crowd cheered making you grin and gave a bow before walking to your bandmate and motioned for behind the stage before exiting, they band continued to play as you left.
Aleksander hadn’t noticed zoya rambling on how disrespectful you were, he piped up as you left the stage. “I’ll be back.” He told zoya before walking outside the club.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
You quietly exited from the building and leaned against the building.
You were now screwed, after many blissful years away from zlatan and kirigan it had to come crashing down.
Being upset you got up and kicked the tins in the back alley of the club.
“That was quite the show..” You jumped at the general’s voice.
“General kirigan..” You greeted, walking to pick up the fallen over tins. 
“You worked under zlatan?” He questioned, making you chuckle. 
“What made it obvious? My clothes or the song?” You asked, putting the lid back on before turning to his figure.
“He rarely sent letters to the palace grounds to let us know of anything.” 
You scoffed, knowing where he was trying to lead the conversation.
“Bullshit, don’t play like you never knew about me, I stood in front of grisha testers and was denied a retest because of my ability, each test is shown in front of you, in your lap to see the newest grisha!” You walked closer to him as you went on.
“Nice try to play that card but the only words I ever believed from zlatan was that you tossed me aside.” You brushed past the darkling and went to enter the club again but was stopped by him grabbing your wrist in a tight grasp and pulling you back to face him.
“You could train in the little palace with others, be with your own kind.” He tried to convince you.
“You missed that train where I wanted to fit in with others badly, I will not be trained to replace your little sun summoner.” You ripped your wrist form his grasp and walked back into the club.
Aleksander stood by himself in the alley, shocked you had decline his offer.
After he collected himself he walked into the club to collect his grisha.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Weeks had passed since the incident at the club.
Aleksander hadn’t been expecting a meeting with the king, he was confused at the sudden arrangement.
“Tsar.” Aleksander greeted as he entered his war room.
“General.” King Pyotr greeted, letting aleksander step in further before continuing. 
“Is there a reason you called upon me?” Aleksander questioned.
“When you were visiting ryevost, did you happened to see this girl?” The king unfolded a drawing of the singer he had a conversation with weeks ago.
“She’s rumored to be a moon summoner, if anything, everyone’s after her. And i believe she’ll do good here in the little palace under your control.” He continued, aleksander studied the poster.
“I’ll send grisha to find her…” The king smiled and nodded in aleksander’s direction before getting up and leaving.
Once gone, aleksander picked up the paper to admire your beauty. 
“I’ll find you, songbird..” He muttered as he read over the paper.
Y/N Y/L/N  - GRISHA - WANTED BY KING PYOTR AND GENERAL KIRIGAN.
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babydollmarauders · 7 months
Text
TOLERATE IT — JOHN MARINO
john marino x fem!reader
summary: in which y/n’s love is tolerated at best, and she wonders what ever happened to her loving boyfriend
warnings: not much dialogue in the beginning?, happy or sad ending depending on the way you look at it, not proofread.
notes: i love writing angst but as a john girlie, this hurt me— but i did this to myself
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the page turns, John’s fingers skimming it gently.
his head is dipped low, one leg perched on the other. he’s sat on the other end of the sofa, engrossed in his book; whereas i pay no attention to the movie that plays on the tv, rather watching him instead.
his demeanor is peaceful, and i know better than to actually disturb him. this is some of the only time he gets to relax, and i don’t want to take that away from him. so i sit quietly instead, just enjoying the rare company.
but i can’t help but wish he would actually do something with me. watch a movie, cuddle, talk, anything. instead i’m subjected to medium silence and the sound of paper flipping.
i turn the tv off, rising from the couch, and his eyes flicker up at my movement, but he dismisses it quickly, going back to his book.
“i’m going to bed.” i tell him softly, quietly yearning for him to join me, but instead he just hums in acknowledgment. “are you gonna join me?”
his eyes scan the page for a few more seconds as i stand before him, waiting for his response. finally, he looks up at me properly, shaking his head.
“no, i’m good.”
my heart sinks at his reply, but i nod, “okay.”
i spend my entire bedtime routine hoping that he’ll walk into the room. that maybe he’ll change his mind and for once, we’ll go to bed together; like we did early in our relationship. but when i climb into an empty bed and he’s still in the living room, i have to accept the fact that it’s not happening. that those days are apparently over.
**
i stir in my sleep, shifting under the weight of an arm draped over my waist, and for a second my heart leaps in my chest, thinking John has decided to cuddle me as i slept. but when i turn under his touch, my eyes fluttering open, i find him asleep. the spooning an unconscious movement, and as soon as it’s started, it’s already over, his arm drawing back as he moves in his slumber to lay on his back.
i settle on my side, resting my head in my hand as i watch the steady rise and fall of his chest in the darkness of the room. the silence piercing as i watch him breathe.
what ever happened to the boy who held me as we slept? the same one who comforted me when people criticized our five year age gap. the one who told me he would do anything to keep me happy.
***
my heart races in my chest as i set the dining table.
the usual plastic plates and cups being replaced for fine china and wine glasses. a singular candle is lit in the middle of the table, next to the steaming pasta that waits to be served. homemade french bread sits beside it, a dish of herb infused butter resting atop of the wood as well.
i spent all day in the kitchen, making everything from scratch. the noodles, the sauce, the bread, the butter, all done today by me. as well as John’s favorite chocolate cake, in which i got the recipe from his mother.
it’s officially our two year anniversary, and i took advantage of the fact that John had practice today and then was going to the gym. i figured a slightly early dinner and then dessert would be a good plan before i gave him his present and then hopefully we would make our way to the bedroom.
but now i sit in my seat at the table, awaiting his return. he had told me he would be home by six, but the clock on the dining room wall displays that it’s a quarter past seven and he still isn’t home.
i’ve stuck the food into the oven to keep warm at this point, but the empty chair across from me and the soft music that floats through the house taunts me.
“alexa, stop the music.” the instrumental cuts off abruptly, tears welling in my eyes at my boyfriends absence.
i’m just about ready to eat by myself and call it an early night when i hear the front door open, footsteps echoing through the house, getting closer and closer. they halt when he reaches the dining room, and i look up to find him standing in the doorway.
his brows are threaded together, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“you made dinner?” he questions, setting his bag on the ground beside him.
i perk up immediately, disappointing myself with how quickly i’m ready to move past his lateness.
“yeah.” i smile, motioning toward the empty seat. “take a seat, i’ll go grab it out of the oven! i was waiting for you to get home.”
he nods, sitting down as i scurry towards the kitchen. i bring the pasta and bread and butter out one at a time before taking my seat across from him.
i’m on the edge of my seat, eagerly awaiting his praise for my cooking and the setup, or even just a ‘happy anniversary, baby.’ but it never comes. we eat silently as he scrolls on his phone, and when he finishes his food, he quickly stands to dismiss himself.
“wait!” he stops at my shout, furrowing his brows at me. “i made cake.”
my eyes are soft, silently begging him to stay.
despite the fact that he evidently forgot our anniversary, i’m still eager to please him; vying for his attention and love, the best i can.
he nods, settling back down in his seat.
“dinner, cake, wine, and glass plates?” he laughs, “you were feeling fancy tonight.”
my heart shatters in my chest. even though i know he forgot the date, it still hurts to hear him speak like it’s just another day. proving even further that he doesn’t know how special today is.
“well, yeah, it’s-” i’m so close to reminding him, but then i think of how guilty he’ll feel, and i stop. “it’s just been a good day.”
i plaster a smile on my lipstick covered lips, hoping he’ll buy it; and he does. he gives me a small smile back and i excuse myself to the kitchen, taking a moment to blink back tears before i cut into the cake, setting a slice on a plate and hurrying back to him.
i place the dessert in front of him, before sitting back down, just watching him as he eats. i’m no longer in a cake mood, my appetite gone as i push my still only half eaten pasta around my plate.
“Jack said hi, by the way.” he speaks between bites and i hum.
“that’s nice, i’ll have to text him.” i acknowledge. “i talked to your mom today.”
“you did?”
“yeah, i called her for the cake recipe.” i explain. “she said to tell you to call her.”
maybe she can remind him what day it is, seeing as she remembered it as soon as i called her.
“okay, i’ll call her soon.” he tells me, finishing his last bite before he stands once more.
“anything else, or can i take a shower now?” he asks, as though i’ve inconvenienced him somehow.
“you can shower.” i wait until he’s walking away, heading down the hallway to our room before i speak again, lowly whispering. “happy anniversary.”
i know i deserve better; that my love should be celebrated. i know that i deserve someone who will remember our anniversary; maybe even someone who will get me flowers just because and who will spend time with me and appreciate my love rather than tolerate it, but i love him.
***
i sit backwards, on my knees on a chair in the living room, facing the front door. i wait eagerly, checking the time on my phone religiously.
i know John should be home soon. a week long roadie finally ending with his long awaited return.
it’s half past two in the morning, much later than i normally stay up, but i refuse to let him arrive home without a proper welcoming.
my eyes are half lidded, but excitement still courses through my veins, remembering his three goals and seven assists in this past four games.
i perk up at the sound of the front door unlocking, watching with baited breath as it creaks open. John steps through the doorway, looking exhausted, slipping his shoes off and dropping his roadie bag on the floor.
i squeal excitedly, gaining his attention as i hop off my chair and run straight into his arms.
“welcome home, Johnny!” i cheer, snaking my arms around his neck, and jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist.
he stiffens for a split-second, letting out an ‘oomph’ before his hands fly to my butt to hold my weight.
“jesus, y/n, warn a guy, would you?” he huffs out a laugh and i lean back to look at his face, expecting a smile but all i see is a blank expression and tired eyes.
i give a sad smile, unwrapping my legs and letting my body slide down his.
suddenly, i feel incredibly insecure, my happy mood diminishing and quickly being replaced by regret.
“you’re right, i’m sorry.” i breathe out, backing away. “i guess i was overly excited.”
i turn quickly in order to keep him from seeing my now glassy eyes, tears threatening to spill as i retreat down the hall to our bedroom.
i don’t expect for him to accompany me, but suddenly i can hear his footsteps behind me, slowly following.
“what was that?” he questions as we reach the bedroom.
i can feel myself reaching my boiling point, choosing to ignore his words as i walk into the en-suite bathroom. i turn the shower water on, but he follows me into the bathroom too.
“y/n.”
y/n. not ‘babe’ or ‘love’. just y/n.
i swallow the lump in my throat before i turn to face him.
“aren’t you gonna go to bed?” i ask in attempt to avoid his question. “you seem tired.”
“aren’t you?” he raises a brow, and i shake my head.
i jab my thumb towards the shower behind me, “i’m gonna shower first.”
“i see that.” he huffs. “what was that? you just walked away from me.”
i sigh, knowing what’s finally coming, and turn to shut off the shower water before facing him again.
“doesn’t feel good, does it?” i walk around him, back into the bedroom, but he’s hot on my heels.
“what?” his hand grips my wrist, spinning me back around to look at him. “what are you talking about?”
“look, if this is all in my head, tell me now.” i start, only confusing him further by the looks of his expression. “but, you don’t love me anymore.”
tell me i’ve got it wrong.
he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he opens them again. “what are you even saying? i’m dating you, aren’t i?”
“are you?” i laugh bitterly, taking a couple steps backwards. “or are you tolerating me?”
“y/n,” he sighs, shaking his head. “you’re tired. and i must’ve upset you somehow, but you’re not making any sense.”
“you don’t appreciate me!” i shout, my hands gesturing wildly in the air.
“i cooked a nice dinner for our anniversary and you were late and forgot the date! and while you’re off playing hockey and winning games, where am i? here! i sit here and polish plates until they gleam and glisten. i clean the house and sit and wait for your return, and then when you do get home, you don’t even seem happy to see me! at all!”
John blinks in surprise at my outburst, his lips parting to speak, but i cut him off before he can get a word out.
“i made you my everything and you don’t even seem to care! i’ve been begging for you to love me again but i’m done! what happened to the man that assured me that my past relationships didn’t define me? the you that actually spent time with me?”
my chest heaves as i regain my breath, watching his expression change from confusion to defensiveness.
“i spend time with you!” he huffs and i roll my eyes.
“no, you sit and you read or you watch games or you do something by yourself on the other side of the couch.” i clarify dejectedly, nearly ready to give up. “you don’t do things with me. and if i try, you wave me off.”
“i just- i don’t understand where this is coming from.” he tells me, and i slump on the end of the bed, furiously wiping away tears that have begun to fall.
“that’s just it. you assume i’m fine with this, because i’ve let it go on for too long. i’ve sat here, and i’ve painted you in the best colors, and i’ve put you on this pedestal. i told myself that if i just did more- if i just did anything you could ever hope for- then we would be fine. that eventually you’ll love me again and you’ll treat me how you used to and we would be happy. but instead i watch you live your life and i’m delegated to the sidelines, begging to be even a minor part of your life. you tolerate me living with you. you tolerate my existence. and you tolerate my love.
“but i’m done. i can’t do it anymore.” my face falls in my hands, sobs wracking my chest.
i’ve finally given up.
John is quiet, but i can hear his feet padding against the floor for a moment, moving farther away before he comes back.
his fingers spread across my thigh, and when i drag my hands away from my face, opening my eyes to look at him, he’s kneeled on the floor in front of me.
“i’m sorry that you feel i don’t love you anymore. i never meant to make you feel like you’re just tolerated in my life. but i promise you, i see you. i do appreciate everything you do for me, and the love that you give me.”
his hand leaves my skin, fumbling with something in his grasp before holding it up.
my heart skips a beat, those butterflies returning in my stomach as my lips part in surprise. my eyes lock in on the diamond ring that sits in the little black velvet box in his hands.
“i promise, you’re not just going tolerated. i love you, and i want you in my life forever.” my gaze flickers up to his face, and i already begin nodding my head. “will you marry me?”
i nod even faster, an excited grin spreading over my lips, and he smiles softly, removing the ring from the box and slipping it onto my outstretched finger.
i admire it for a second, appreciating how right it looks to have a ring on my finger.
this is it.
this is what i did it all for.
what i’ve waited my whole life for.
my hands cup his face, pulling him in to press my lips to his.
“i love you.” i whisper, my lips still burning for his, and in response, he pulls me in for another kiss.
when we finally part, we begin to get ready for bed, effectively ignoring the outburst i just had. and once we climb into bed, i kiss him once more, melting into his touch like i used to.
“i’m sorry, you must be tired. i took up so much of your time tonight, you could’ve been asleep by now.” i mumble, listening to his heartbeat under the weight of my head.
“it’s okay. don’t apologize.” his fingers run through my hair and he turns off his bedside lamp, blanketing the room in darkness. “i love you.”
i fully plan on responding, but amongst the comfort, my eyes have already turned heavy, and speaking feels like too much work. my breathing evens out as i bask in the closeness of this moment.
i love him.
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deadsetromance · 9 months
Text
IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF THE MORNING
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(not my gif!)
gerard way x gn!reader
summary: he's your roommate...but maybe he's more than that.
warnings: unedited writing, fluff, no use of [y/n]
note: so sorry i haven't posted in forever! i have a few requests and a few more half-complete drafts, so hopefully those should be up soon &lt;3
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you supposed there were worse roommates out there. actually, thinking about it, you realized how lucky you were.
you got along really well with your roommate, gerard. he’d been sharing an apartment for nearly two years now, and you were sure you knew him better than you knew yourself.
you know he forgets to take the coffee pods out of the keurig, and sometimes he leaves the heater running for too long.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen him sleep. sometimes you wonder if he’s a vampire or something, what with the scribbling coming from his room at all hours of the night.
to be fair… you’re hardly any better. you sleep little more than he does, when you do fall asleep it’s usually on the couch, and you leave the television on all the time.
you’re incredibly lucky, you realize. lucky that he’s as sweet as he is, bringing you coffee in the mornings, and stopping by your job on his commute. he’s even slipped a few drawings your way. some are drawings of you, others are silly little doodles he gives you when you’re having a bad day. sometimes, he’ll show you characters for the comics he’s working on, asking for your input.
you realize that you’re lucky that he’s so helpful, that he’s not a creep, that you both get along so well. you’re lucky that you’ve found a friend who will sit and watch television reruns with you when neither of you can fall asleep.
that’s why you slip a record under his door one night. you don’t know if he even likes sinatra, but you give it to him anyway. there’s no special occasion really, you just thought of him when you found in the wee small hours in the record store you visited. you don’t sign your name on the post it you stuck to it. all you write is “from one insomniac to another”. you feel embarrassed for some reason you can’t place, and something slithers in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have given it to him…maybe he doesn’t like sinatra. it’s too late now though, it’s already done.
☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎
it’s late one night…or early, depending on how you look at it. you’re tired, whatever movie you were watching forgotten and on mute. you can hear gerard milling around in the kitchen, you can smell the coffee he’s brewing. you’re tired, but you can’t fall asleep.
“thanks for the record” gerard called from the kitchen. “i really liked it”
you smile, one of those hazy tired smiles, the kind you do when you’re between being awake and asleep. “i didn’t know if you liked sinatra, i hope it’s ok”
you miss the way he grins at you, too busy yawning.
“it’s great i actually…” he walked off in the middle of his sentence, a habit you’d noticed he had, only to come back with the disk in his hands. “do you mind?”
it didn’t matter if you said no, he already turned to put it on, smiling back at you as he dropped the needle to the record.
“what are we watching?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. close enough to be touching you, but still far enough to give you space. it’s like a paradox, you think, but then you tell yourself to shut up. you’re too tired to know what you’re talking about.
“i dunno, i stopped paying attention.” your eyes flit to the movie playing on the television, watching the car chase for a moment before turning your attention back to him. “you’re going to keep yourself up all night drinking coffee this late.” you might have frowned at him if you weren’t too busy beaming.
he knew you were teasing, you could tell by the glint in his eye. “i just need a few finishing touches on my project and then i’m done.”
you didn’t say anything more for a while, taking a moment to take everything in. the record playing softly in the background as you curled closer to gerard. his head resting on yours as you listened to his breathing, memorizing the pace of his heart.
it’s quiet…intimate, and you’re tired. tired and happy.
“you tired?” he questions softly.
“a little,” you don’t know why you’re whispering.
“do you work tomorrow?”
“yeah, i open,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.
it’s quiet again, though this time it’s too quiet. you’re left with thoughts of gerard running through your head, and you wish that one of you would say something. you should be ashamed, you scold yourself, thinking of him the way you do when he’s sitting right next to you.
“what are you thinking about?” he prods gently. he’s soft with you, the way he always is, careful not to overstep with his questions.
“nothing really,” you lie, because you’d rather not risk what comfort you have now. “what are you thinking about?”
it seems like he didn’t expect the question to be turned back on him. he hesitates, and the silence is thick…too thick. his face is illuminated by the light from the tv, and he looks nervous. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite as terrified as he does now. the lighting shifts, and he’s blanketed in darkness again, but you notice something change in his eyes.
“i think i love you” he whispers against your ear.
you feel like you can’t breathe. you think you heard him wrong. you’re worried this is all a dream, a good dream, the kind that would leave you reeling when you wake up.
you want to hear him say it again.
you lean your head back against his shoulder, and he breathes out with a shudder. you watch the explosions on tv as your hand finds his. “i love you too.”
that’s it then, everything is out in the open. maybe you’re tired, but you sigh gently as he cups your face in his hands. thinking back, you can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him changed, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. he loves you and you love him. it’s surprisingly simple.
“can i…?” he doesn’t need to finish his question as you lean in closer to him. his breath is warm, and he smells like coffee and sleepless nights, and you’re waiting for him. your eyes are closed as you breathe him in, and they stay that way as he kisses you softly.
he’s…soft, softer than you imagine, and you can’t help but smile.
in the wee small hours of the morning, he is yours, and you are his.
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artists-ally · 8 months
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{Flatline} Harvey Specter x OFC {Pt. 1}
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I got the title from this song called Flatline by Jared Benjamin. I added it to this playlist of very Harvey Specter vibes if you'd like to listen. There will be multiple parts, around three so be sure to stick around for those. As always comment and tell me what you think, or pop by in my asks. Anyhoo enjoy my loves!
Word count ~ 10,619 (it is a very fast paced read I promise)
Warnings ~ Age gap, smut (18+), handjob, no real BDSM but Dom/Sub concepts, language, alcohol, anxiety/anxious thoughts, probably really inaccurate lawyer terms idk man.
Summary: Harvey has taken notice of the hardest working first year associate, Claudia Martin. Despite being petrified of the infamous closer, she tried her hardest to not let it get the best of her. Harvey has a few ideas on how to increase her confidence.
Tagging : @maxdamax @ashcosmo @rosedpetal (This is basically just dedicated to you three so I hope you enjoy it the most!)
~~~~~
“Alright, everybody stop,” Harvey announced. I put down my file and sat ramrod straight in my seat, eyes darting at the other associates as they put theirs away too. “We have been working on this case now for four hours and no one has brought me a single thing that I can use as evidence. Now, if someone doesn’t put a file in my hand in the next ten minutes, we’re going to lose. And those of you who don’t want to get stuck doing whatever bullshit Louis is going to punish you with, you better come up with something fast.”
I looked at the blue file in my hands, heart hammering in my chest as I saw Harvey leave out of the corner of my eye. With a deep breath, I pushed up out of my chair and followed after him. 
Circling around the office a few times, I made up reasons and excuses not to go see him. It was stupid, I knew that, but I didn’t want to bring him something and then immediately be called an idiot for bringing him shit he already knew.
I saw how he treated Mike. And Louis. Even Donna from time to time.
There were two things you did in this world: die, and respect Harvey Specter. As a first year associate in this god awful firm, you didn’t dare break his trust or waste his time. 
“Is Mr. Specter available for a moment?” I asked Donna. I hadn’t talked to her much, but I’ve heard her speak to Harvey a few times around the office. She was someone I wished I knew better, someone I wished I could ask for help, but I didn’t want to bother her either. 
“Yeah, he’s in his office going over the statements from the mock trial,” Donna smiled, pointing over her shoulder. I nodded, willing my feet to move in the direction of his office. I knocked before pushing the glass door opening, keeping my head down. 
“Claudia, now is really not a good-” “I have something for you,” we spoke at the same time. “I’m sorry to interrupt, I can come back and-” “Is that for the mock trial?” He asked, and I nodded. “Hand it over.”
I placed the file in his outstretched hand as he came around to sit on the corner of the desk. My hands were trembling with dread as his eyes raked over the words on the page. The lines in his forehead creased, eyes narrowing.
“Claudia, this is brilliant,” he had a very confused expression when his eyes met mine. “Where did you find this?”
“Well, I figured if Mrs. Thompson said that she didn’t pay her rent that month, because there wasn't money in her account, then there had to be some kind of a trail. Some clue. There was, but it was only an amount, and it didn’t say which account it came from. When I did some digging, I found out that she uses Capital One banking and when I looked at her bank statement-
“There was a draw for the exact amount that Mr. Saros used to bet on that game,” Harvey finished before I could get the words out of my mouth. “Claudia, this is genius. Come on, we’ve got a case to win.”
____
“...Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this compelling evidence reveals that Mr. Saros was in fact fraudulent and used his ex- wife’s funds to continue gambling. Thank you.” Harvey closed the argument, taking a seat besides Donna, who represented the client. Jessica looked to the opposing counsel as if to say ‘do you have anything?’. Louis had nothing. Not a sliver of hope. 
“Then it is decided, Mr. Saros will be charged with a misdemeanor and face a prison sentence of one year in county jail.”
With a crack of the gavel, the case was over, and applause rang through the office for Harvey and his team. I had a tiny smile on my face as I left the conference room to go back to the bullpen. There was an endless stack of reports to run, motions to file… it never ended when it came to Louis. And now that I was on the winning team I’m sure that-
“Claudia, where are you going?” Harvey called out. 
“Oh, I was just going back to my desk. Why, is there something that you need?” God I hope he didn’t need anything. I was sweating bullets by just standing next to him. 
“I just wanted to congratulate you on your first win,” he gave a small smirk. His brown eyes were sharp, but not as intense as they usually were. 
I flushed, “Well, it’s not really a real case.”
“No, it’s not. But seeing what you did today, how would you like one of your own?” He extended a blue file back to me, a stack of papers covered inside. I could feel the gaze of the other associates on me as I hesitantly took the file. 
“Mr. Spector, I’m honored, but I’m not-”
“Yes you are,��� he cut me off. I bit my tongue. “You are a lawyer, Claudia. And you clearly have an outside the box approach to your tactics which we don’t see very often. I haven’t seen someone able to compile and order evidence like you since Mike came to work for me a decade ago. I’ll be supervising your case, you report to me with any questions you might have, but otherwise this is all you.”
My first case… given to me by Harvey Specter himself.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered. I flipped through the file, seeing that this wasn’t just some pro-bono case. This was against a big time client and the SEC. The SEC meant Sean Cayhill, who, from my understanding, was already on the rocks with this firm and has been for a very long time. 
“You can thank me when you win it,” he extended his hand, and I shook it, hoping that they weren’t sweaty. “Look over the file tonight and come ready to swing tomorrow morning.”
Harvey’s hand was warm, and significantly larger than mine. Everything about him was bigger than I was, especially his ego. And his personality. Lord help me…
My nod was the only confirmation that I would meet him there. As he walked out, I met some of the eyes of the associates and they scowled at me. At the file in my hand. At the fact that I hadn’t said a word the whole meeting today and then came up with the winning piece of evidence. And now I was working alongside Harvey. 
The infamous closer at Pearson-Specter-Litt. 
____
“Claudia, what’s wrong?” Donna startled me so bad I dropped my coffee on the floor with a shout. “Something’s really wrong.”
“Oh, it’s just you Donna,” I sighed in relief. I could feel the coffee seeping into my shirt and chilling against my skin. “Great.”
“What has you so skittish?” She asked, worry gracing her features. 
I didn’t want to admit that it was because of Harvey and the fact that I had to work alongside him on this case. I hadn’t been able to sleep much last night because I was up thinking about him, wondering how he’d handle this case himself. What he would do, how he would do it. Sure, I admired the guy, how could I not? He was a perfectionist and always found a way. I wish I had half the confidence he did. 
“It’s Harvey, isn’t it?”
“How did you know that? Nevermind, you’re Donna. But… Yes it’s because of Harvey.”
“Did he say something to you yesterday after you guys won the mock trial? I saw he handed you a case file, what was it all about?” “That's precisely what’s wrong,” I groaned, bending over and picking up the dropped paper cup. “He gave me a case of my own as a 'thank you' for finding the evidence that won the trial yesterday. I’m terrified of him, Donna. I-I don’t know how to act around someone with that kind of personality. He is so abrasive and forward and harsh and-”
“A total jackass?” She finished for me. 
I chuckled nervously, “I’m afraid to even think of that word in association with his name. I mean, how am I supposed to work alongside someone that intense? Plus, I’m a first year associate, how am I supposed to compete with what he as to offer and-”
“Hey, it’s okay. No need to get yourself all worked up, Claudia. Harvey is a lot of bark, and only some bite.” “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“What I’m trying to say is that there is some heart inside that cold dead chest of his,” she smiled, a genuine, friendly smile. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen him give someone a case after a mock trial. Not even Mike. Up until yesterday I’m not even sure he knew you existed.” “Wish it was still that way,” I rolled my eyes, folding my arms against my chest.
“Claudia, listen to me. Yes, Harvey can be rude and obnoxious, but he is the best damn attorney in the state of New York. He didn’t get to the top by being nice and sweet. He was impressed with your willingness to bring him the evidence yourself. Now he knows he can count on you to get things done in a pinch when he needs them.” “I had that evidence for an hour,” I emphasized. “I was trying to build up the courage to give it to him long before he came and ripped us to shreds for not having anything. I just didn’t want him to think that it was a stupid idea or to be in a bad mood and turn me away because I definitely wouldn’t have done it at all after that. I don’t know how to deal with someone like him, Donna. What am I supposed to do? I should just give the case to Griffin or Thomas-”
“No no no. You are definitely not going to do that. That will only show Harvey that you aren’t serious about becoming a lawyer.”
“I am serious about becoming a lawyer.” I was mildly offended that she’d even say that to me. “Of course I want to be a lawyer, it's all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And Harvey will only know that if you work on this case with him.”
I inhaled and exhaled, leaning my head back and looking at the ceiling. “Fine.” “That’s my girl,” she grinned. “Now, come on. I have an extra dress you can borrow because I am sure as hell not letting you walk around covered in coffee stains.”
“I appreciate it, but I don’t think what you have will fit me.” Donna jerked her head over her shoulder and I followed to a closet in the back of the file room. When she opened it, it was like a full blown wardrobe. There were dresses and shoes and purses and hair supplies lining the walls. “Woah…” “Don’t ever underestimate the power of Donna,” she winked before rummaging through the office closet. 
After searching for a few moments, she pulled out a lovely royal blue dress that was, as she hinted at, a perfect size for me. How she knew that it would fit, I’ll never know. But I did know that I wouldn’t ever underestimate the power of Donna ever again. She’s magical. 
“Now, what do you say?”
“Thanks, Donna,” I smiled sweetly. 
“Actually I was looking for ‘you are an ethereal goddess who makes all my dreams and wishes come true’ but that works too,” I knew she was teasing, and I gave her a small shove of her shoulder. “Go get dressed, come back here and let me do your hair.”
“What’s wrong with the way it is?” I turned to look in the mirror on the back of the door and grimaced. “Oh…” My messy curls from yesterday looked more like a rat wrapped around a bunch of fishing line.
“Hurry up, Harvey will be back soon and I want you in that office, file in hand, ready to go when he gets here.”
I quickly shuffled to the bathroom and changed into the form fitting, very Donna-style dress. It didn’t look half bad, and I actually somewhat tolerated the dress. Normally I’d find a pants suit far more flattering and business appropriate than a dress, strictly because of the over sexualized nature of women's business clothing. 
I hate the corporate world. 
I did one more glance in the mirror before heading back to the break room to grab the file. I must’ve set it on the counter while I was pouring my coffee. Hopefully it wasn’t ruined. 
There was no blue file on the counter. Or the table. Or on top of the microwave or the fridge. I even checked inside the microwave. Nothing. It was nowhere. Oh shit.
“Do you want curls or for me to straighten-” “It’s gone,” there was a clear panic in my voice. “The file, it’s not in the break room, Donna. It’s gone.”
“How can it be gone?” 
“I-I don’t- I don’t know I thought I set it on the counter while I was getting coffee and it’s not there.” I felt a cold sweat break out onto my skin. My forehead was damp to the touch. 
“Okay, take a deep breath. Let’s go look again and then check your desk. Maybe someone found it and put it there, or maybe left it with me or Gretchen. It didn’t grow a pair of legs and walk away, we’ll find it.”
“I’m gonna get fired,” my voice was almost a silent whisper, tears building behind my eyes, prickling my nose. “Donna, Harvey is going to kill me.”
“Worst comes to worst we get a new file, Harvey will never know.”
“No no no he will because he had notes of his own on the papers in there.” “Shit,” she swore. “Let’s just go look.”
We speed walked through the bullpen, earning some odd looks as we practically sprinted through the office. She checked the break room for me again, and I went to my cubicle. Nothing, not a blue folder anywhere to be seen. 
Donna came up empty handed in the break room, checking with Gretchen on her way by Louis’s office. We met at her desk. Nothing. 
“Fuck fuck fuck this is bad.” My hands were shaking, heart thundering against my ribs. I felt faint, like I could’ve fallen to the floor at any moment. “Donna, what am I gonna do?”
“Maybe somebody mistook it as their own file,” Donna blurted out after a moment of silence. She took off towards the bullpen and I followed after her, right on her heels. She marched through there, unapologetic as she invaded the other associates' work spaces. 
Still nothing. No blue file labeled ‘Devlyn Inc. Vs. Fulton Dynamics’. 
“Where the hell could it be?” She murmured to herself. 
“What are you guys looking for?” An associate, Benson, asked. 
“Oh, you know, a leprechaun pissing pieces of gold,” Donna’s voice was full of sarcasm. “Claudia set down a file in the break room for three minutes and forty-two seconds and now it’s mysteriously disappeared. Know anything about it?”
“No,” he pressed his lips together. “Not really.” “Not really?”
“There are a million case files floating around this office, you really expect me to pay attention to every single one and where it’s going?” “As an associate of this firm, yes, actually. I do. Now I want to know if you know who took her file and I want to know right now. You have one chance to tell the truth, otherwise the bottom of my stiletto and your ass are gonna be great friends.”
Benson swallowed, “I truly don’t know. I’m sorry, I can keep an eye out for it. Is it the one Harvey gave Claudia yesterday?”
“Yes, and he needs it in twenty minutes,” Donna said, an undeniable urgency in her voice. “If you find it, do the right thing and give it back or so help me god you will find yourself jobless faster than you can get down on your knees and beg me to let you keep it.”
Donna beckoned me for her to follow and I did, my heart sinking and sinking into my stomach. It had to be around here somewhere. It had to be. 
I did another lap around, rummaging through all the drawers in the desk and thensome. Still nowhere. How could I be so stupid? So irresponsible? This is exactly why I didn’t want to take this case in the first place.
Despite all Harvey and Donna said the other day, I’m not ready to be a lawyer. Not really, anyway. I know I have my license and I’ve passed the Bar. I’ve done all the hard work, but this was… this was hell. A living nightmare. Not only was this firm constantly on the verge of collapsing, but it seemed like I made new enemies every other week by simply doing my job quickly, quietly, and efficiently. 
I don’t know how or why I piss everyone off all the time. I just do my work, I quite literally don’t bother another soul in this building unless I have to. Occasionally I’d ask Donna a question that she could ask Harvey or Mike to see what they thought about it. I’d never speak to them directly, just through her which didn’t make me feel good, either. 
I’d eat by myself, working through my meal. It took me two months of being here to finally use the break room because I was too nervous about taking the last tea bag or power bar from the cabinet. I just took a disposable coffee cup and filled it with tap water. And then kept that cup because I didn’t want to take the others because I figured other people needed them for coffee and I didn’t want them to be all gone-
“Claudia,” Donna interrupted my mild panic. “Harvey wants to see you.”
Oh no… no no no not yet god please not yet. I swallowed, or tried to at least; there was no moisture in my mouth whatsoever. I stood, knees trembling as I smoothed out the skirt of my dress.
Before I went on, she ran a brush through my hair, taking out the knots. It lay sleek and flat against my shoulders, a major difference from the low bun I always kept it in. My hair always made me so hot; I never understood how anyone could get anything done with it swaying in their face all day.
I could see him in his office, eyes staring us down as we rounded the corner. His gaze was locked on me and I felt my body tighten and constrict around a breath. Harvey was sitting on the corner of his desk, fingers toying with the cufflink on his left wrist.. 
“Hey, look at me,” Donna spoke softly, hands coming to my shoulders. “Give Harvey the truth, and nothing but. He will understand, if not, I will make him.”
I nodded.
When I pushed open his glass door, tension was thick in the air. My palms were clammy, still shaking. My mind was going a million miles a second. 
“What can I do for you, Mr. Specter?” I asked, trying to keep my cool despite almost throwing up. 
“Please tell me you have some good news about the case that I gave you,” he sighed, pushing off the desk and standing in front of me. 
Welp… here goes my career. 
“Actually, Mr. Specter there is something I need to-”
“You were looking for me, Harvey?” I whipped my head over my shoulder, seeing Griffin knocking on the door. 
“Yes, Griffin come on please, shut the door as well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I can come back and we can discuss the details of-”
“No, Claudia. Stay for a moment,” Harvey gave a firm nod, full attention slipping from me to my fellow associate. “Griffin, I see you have something for me.”
“Yes,” Griffin threw a wicked grin at me before handing over a blue file. I could feel the sick rise in my throat. That was my blue file. “I would just like to go over the details of my case with you to get your input.”
“Your case?” Harvey questioned, sharing a glance between me and Griffin. “Where did you get this? Who the hell gave you a case?”
“That’s not important. I was hoping we could actually-”
“No,” Harvey cut him off. “It’s very important, actually. Because I can recall that just last night this exact file, with my handwriting, was in Claudia’s hands. So whatever act you’re putting on, I suggest you cut the bullshit right now.” “Okay I found it in the breakroom,” Griffin rolled his eyes. “Maybe if she were a little more responsible, which she clearly isn’t because she left her documents in a public space, then she’d be more equipped to handle a real case. Like a real lawyer should.”
I could see the muscle in Harvey’s jaw clench and contract several times. 
“Claudia, care to explain how our case got in this thief’s hands?” “Thief?” “I had spilled coffee,” I started, taking a deep breath when Griffin cut me a gaze so threatening I almost crumbled to my knees. “I spilled coffee and Donna offered a change of clothes for me. I didn’t even notice I left it. When I came back it was gone.”
“Well, I think that about settles it. How about you get out of here before you cause yourself a real problem. And If I ever catch wind of you stealing another one of Claudia’s files, or anyones for that matter, I will personally make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” he ground his teeth, refusing to look at either of us. 
“Now get your ass back to your desk and pray to whoever you believe in that I don’t have you fired and disbarred for the shit you pulled today. Get the hell out of my sight.”
Griffin was out of there far faster than he walked in, head down, hands shoved in his pockets. I let out a shaky breath. 
“Are you okay?” Harvey asked me. “I’m so sorry,” I completely ignored his question. “Griffin was right, I was extremely irresponsible and shouldn’t have let that file out of my sight. If you want to give it to another associate I completely understand. Again, I am so sorry and understand that there are consequences to my actions for letting such important information go missing-”
“Claudia, slow down,” he eased. “It’s okay, you are not the one I am pissed at.”
“You’re not?” I didn’t understand why. “But- but I completely misplaced a case.”
“No,” Harvey shook his head. “No Griffin is the only one to blame. You spilled coffee, went to go get cleaned up, and he stole it. He should know better. And seeing that he clearly doesn’t, I know I’m right in my decision on who to bring onto this case with me.”
I could feel my blush creep up my neck. “I appreciate that, Mr. Specter.”
“Of course, Claudia. And please, call me Harvey.”
I just gave a subtle nod, taking the file from his hand. I followed his gaze from my face to my hair where he took a strand between his fingers, letting the end curl around his digit.
“I’ve never seen your hair so long,” He added, dropping it from his grip. My breath was caught in my throat. Words were vacant shadows in my mind as he surveyed the dress I was wearing. “I bet that’s Donna’s, isn’t it.”
I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “She wouldn’t let me walk around with coffee stains all day.”
“It looks good on you,” He complimented. Harvey’s eyes, again, went from my head to my toes. There was nothing I could do but fall victim to his… I didn’t know what to think of how he looked at me. Couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. 
“Time for the case then?” I needed to get his attention off of me. Now. I was flushed and losing my mind. Harvey didn’t really seem to acknowledge my words at all. 
“Sure.” Was all he gave me.
____
I barely escaped with the skin on my teeth after our consultation. No, he didn’t rip me to shreds, but he would not take his eyes off of me for even one second. It was so… so potent I couldn’t focus. It was almost lunch when Donna came in and saved my ass. 
I couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough.
“So, how did it go?” Donna asked as I sat in my cubicle. When she came around, or maybe she just followed me, I didn’t know. 
I put my face in my hands. “It was a disaster, Donna. I was a stuttering mess and I kept forgetting everything I was going to say because he would not stop staring at me. Like, he would not stop.” “Well, you aren’t exactly ugly, Claudia,” she snickered. 
“Donna, this isn’t funny,” I groaned. “I’m being completely frank with you.”
“How can I be expected to work alongside him when I can’t stand being in an enclosed space with him for more than four minutes without turning into a bumbling idiot? It’s like he enjoys watching me get flustered.”
“Claudia, I think you are making this a bigger deal in your head than it actually is.” Donna came around and sat on my desk, crossing a knee over the other. “And besides, Harvey understands what it’s like to be a new associate. It can be nerve wracking, especially when you have Louis breathing down your neck.”
I chuckled gravely, “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’ll figure it out.” “Why can’t you just tell me?” I whined as she stood up. 
“Because I am the Yoda to your Luke Skywalker. Wise you are, patience you must have, my young Padawan.”
“I am not a Jedi who is going on a self discovery journey to start using the Force,” I countered. “I am a nervous wreck who can’t handle being alone with Harvey Specter.”
“Then you need to get over it because Harvey is not going to berate you on your first case!” She argued.
“Did you not hear what he said to Griffin? Or-or to Thomas when he suggested that we consider taking the deal that Mr. Saros had offered during the mock trial? He cracked them wide open and left them to bleed. What about with Mike? How many times has he almost sent him to the curb for not being able to find what Harvey needs?”
“Mike is different and you know it,” Donna lowered her voice. “Plus he always says shit like that to light a fire under his ass. Harvey can see that you are nervous to work with him. He isn’t going to hang you out to dry, I promise. He stood up for you, Claudia, in a way I’ve only seen him do with me and Mike. You know how much he cares about us.”
“Well, yeah of course. But you’ve worked for him for fifteen years and Mike almost seven now. You have a relationship with him and established trust. How am I supposed to have that with him when I can’t even look him in the eye?” “It comes with time, Claudia,” she rubbed my shoulder. “But if there is anything I can say to get you to trust the process, Harvey is loyal, almost to a fault sometimes. He will stop at nothing to make sure the people he cares about are taken care of. I can see that he wants that for you because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have given a shit if Griffin stole the file or not.”
Donna walked away after smoothing down some of the hair on my head, disappearing behind the corner. I let out a huff. She was right, I was being a little over dramatic.
Harvey had a reputation, though. How was I supposed to know if- no. This is unrelated to anything going on. Sort of. I just need to focus on the case. 
I pulled out the files and looked over them again, compiling all the notes into one space for easy recall. As I was looking through it, I found a loophole in one of the contracts that unbound our client from having to give up half of her company.
____
I paced up and down Harvey’s office, tapping my file in my hand as I went through all my key points in my head for today’s trial. I needed to lure, or bait rather, the witnesses into my questions to get them to admit to trespassing on our clients property. We had everything we needed; security footage, witnesses to testify on our behalf… Everything was all lined up. I just needed to blow it. 
I could do this, right? I had only spent all night doing a fake run of how today would go in my mirror, but then again anything could happen when I got into that courtroom today. Maybe they had another leg on us, maybe there was another witness they had to testify against us.
God dammit, if I screwed up today I wouldn’t get another case. Probably not ever again unless I packed up all my shit and moved to Iowa. 
Having Harvey there didn’t make me feel better. I thought it would, but as we worked together I realized he only made me more nervous. I couldn’t help it, he just looked at me this way I couldn't describe. It was incredibly annoying, I don’t know how Mike does it. Or Donna. Or Jessica or Louis or-
Jesus focus, Claudia. I rubbed my eyes with my thumbs. Just focus focus focus. I’ve been over it a million times. I could do this. I didn’t have a choice, court was in less than half an hour. 
“Claudia,” Harvey ripped me from my concentration, making me jump. “Sorry to startle you. Are you ready for today?” “Not really,” I admitted. “I am kind of freaking out, to be honest.”
“It’s okay,” he eased me to sit next to him. “What are you so nervous for?”
I chuckled, “Everything.” “Okay,” he gave a half-hearted laugh. “What specifically? Just name one thing that you are worried about.”
“I don’t know- forgetting cross examination questions? Screwing up the order so it doesn’t lead him into our trap? A billion things could go wrong and I’m not sure what to do if I freeze or stutter. What if the jury or the opposing counsel laughs at me?”
“That is not gonna happen, Claudia,” Harvey reassured. “You have prepared some amazing questions, you’ve got this in the bag.” “You know, I much prefer to stay in the background and do research. I don’t think I’m cut out to handle court stuff this is-”
“Hey,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear him. He grabbed my trembling hand and held it between his own. My body went completely rigid, chest puffing in and out with heavy breaths. “You are going to do great today, I know it, Claudia. You are prepared, capable, and even more prepared. This is always what you’ve wanted to do, isn’t it?” I just nodded. Over the past week and a half of working together, I had told him what made me want to be a lawyer in the first place. About how I saw my best friends’ parents' business completely ruined by a group of robbers and their insurance did nothing to help them.
It made me so sad for them, made me feel so sick that I knew I had to do something to help them. I did my research and then brought it to them. They brought it to their lawyer and ended up getting a settlement for far more than they were ever gonna get. All because of me and my discovery that I made on my computer when I was thirteen.
“Okay. Think back to teenage Claudia for a moment. I bet she dreamed of being in this exact position. Where she can help people and give the sorry bastards who put them there a taste of their own medicine. Well, Claudia, here you are. Your very first case. Your very first helping hand. Your very first entrance into the world of the law. And you are going to absolutely shake up those witnesses, blindside them so hard they won’t have a choice but to tell the truth. This is your moment, Claudia’s moment. Don’t let fear take it from you, okay?” Again, all I could do was nod. And think about how warm his hand was in mine. We stood and he let go, leading me out of the office and down to his car waiting for him in front of the building. Ray, his driver, greeted me sweetly as I settled into the back seat with Harvey.
I flipped through my cards over and over and over on our way to the court house. Harvey snatched them from me. “Hey!” “You know the material,” he gave me a pointed look, sliding them in the breast pocket of his jacket. 
“I know but-” “There is no but,” he shrugged. “Have just one ounce of confidence, Claudia. Trust yourself.”
All of whatever I had been reading was swept from my mind as he placed his palm on my knee. I hadn’t realized it was bouncing up and down until he pressed against it to stop its movements. I tried to sit still, but I just started picking at my nails instead. 
“Claudia,” he said in a stern, commanding voice. I stopped my fidgeting, laying my hands flat in my lap. “Good, just relax. Everything will be alright.”
Highly doubtful. He was playing a dangerous game, and we both knew it. But neither of us said anything as he left his hand there the entire car ride. 
____
“After the conclusion of today’s trial, the jury here finds Fulton Dynamic guilty of trespassing and breaking and entering with intent to steal inside information.”
I felt the tension deflate from my body, eyes fluttering shut as the judges whacked the wooden disk on his stand. He said something, but I couldn’t even hear over the roar in my ear. Holy shit we won…
“Claudia,” Harvey shook my shoulder. I snapped my eyes to him. “Come on, let's get out of here.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. 
I rested my head back against the seat, eyes focused on the window outside so I wouldn’t throw up. Man did I hate getting car sick every time I looked at my phone when in a car. The city lights were bright and fierce, unrelenting all hours of the day. Why on god's green earth did I decide to move to New York? Out of all the places I could’ve gone to work as an associate in this state, why did I choose the city? I hate the city. I’ve always hated the-
“Yoo-hoo,” I heard from my side. I lifted my exhausted head and gave Harvey a look. “Did you hear anything I said?”
‘Oh… n-no I’m sorry,” I stiffened, giving him my full attention. “What were you talking about?”
“I was just saying that you did a great job today, Claudia. You kicked ass in there,” he smiled.
“Thanks, Mr. Specter.” I just let out a sigh.
“You don’t think so?”
“Not really.” Anxiety swirled in my chest. Tears pricked my eyes and nose. 
“Why not? Claudia, you gave one of the best cross examinations I think I’ve ever seen. And the way you handled Cayhill? Defended Devlyn from those accusations? It was masterful.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
Silence hung between us. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “You did great today.”
“I was a complete idiot when I was defending Devlyn. I was way too animated and let my emotions get the best of me. For Christ's sake Judge Peterson gave me a warning.”
“I want you to take a guess at how many warnings judges give me when I’m the one in there leading the case.”
“You’re Harvey Specter, of course you… get a lot.”
“You right, I do get a lot. But that isn’t a bad thing. And I’ve been doing this a hell of a lot longer than you-” “That’s the problem,” I snapped. “You have been doing this for seventeen years and I’ve been doing it for ten days. I’ve barely got my toe in the water and I’ve already shown other lawyers and firms that I can’t keep my cool.”
“Claudia, you are passionate. I don’t see that as a huge problem in the courtroom. There needs to be a level of pushback from attorneys because if you, of all people on someone’s legal team, aren’t going to fight back, then you might as well be fired. Because you are the only person some people have hope for. You have to be aggressive and assertive sometimes to get the job done.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“I am going to teach you,” Harvey’s words completely short circuited my brain. 
“What do you mean?”
“Claudia, I think you’re going to be a great lawyer, even without my help. I know you struggle with confidence and that is all I want to help you with. To get some leverage over these other associates so you can climb that ladder.”
“I can’t just magically pull a wagon load of confidence out of my ass overnight,” I shook my head, folding my hands tightly together. “I don’t see how you can help me.”
The car pulled up outside the building and Harvey let out a sigh. Great. Now I’ve pissed him off, too. That’s exactly what I needed to do was piss off Harvey Specter after a great win. In all honesty, it had been a good day. I didn’t fumble the ball like I was going to, but this was completely taking away from them.
My door opened. Harvey looked down at me from outside and extended his hand. When did he get out of the car? I hesitantly took it, getting out and shutting the door behind me.
“Claudia,” Harvey started. “You need to learn to let go. To put the bad moments behind you.” “I can’t.” “Which is why you and I are going to go back up there and have a drink. Get to know each other a little bit so we can start building that trust. I know I intimidate you, and I try like hell to be as calm as I can around you, but one day Louis or Jessica or Donna is going to come into my office and give me some bad news. You might be there and see how I handle it. You might not, but I don’t want you to be afraid of that happening to you.”
“And how can I be sure that if I come up with a plan one day, and it falls through and goes to shit, you won’t flip out on me or fire me or-or-”
“Because I won’t. I give you my word. But I need yours as well.”
“Need my word, why?” “I need to know that you won’t think I’m a monster if you’re in the room and I lose my cool.”
I’ve never thought Harvey was a monster to begin with. I’ve always admired his ability to shut off his feelings and get the dirty work done. Of course I’ve seen that side of him a time or two, but never catastrophic like some of the stories I’ve heard from the third and fourth years.
“You have my word.”
The elevator chime brought me out of my spiraling momentarily to walk to Harvey’s office. The firm was empty, not even Jessica was here. He led me to his office and got to work on the drinks. My eyes wandered from him to the view through the window. This was the only part of the city I might’ve let myself enjoy from time to time. 
“Donna was right, you do have a lot of music,” I noted, taking in the wall filled with vinyl records. She mentioned it when I was caught with my head buried in a book in the library, some random Beatles song blasting so loud she could hear it down the hall. 
“You’re just now noticing that?” “Well, I haven’t exactly been in your office for anything other than to work on this case so… no I guess I never really noticed.”
“You can pick something to listen to, if you’d like.” He was gonna let me touch his records? This place was like a museum; autographed basketballs and baseballs, art hanging on the wall. “Or you can just stare at it.”
I flushed, picking up a record at random and handing it to him. In exchange, he handed me a glass a third full of whisky. I smelled it, it kind of made me scrunch my nose. I didn’t drink often; most of the time I was too tired to even feed myself let alone consume alcohol.
When I took a sip, I actually didn’t mind the taste. It was smooth, simple in flavor and didn’t burn too bad. Quite nice, for all it’s worth. 
There was a couch along the wall of records that I fixed myself on, Harvey taking the time to remove his tie and lay it across his desk before sitting across from me on one of the chairs. I toed off my pumps and set them on the floor beside the table. God damn did my feet hurt. 
“Do you do this with all the new associates?”
“What do you mean?” He asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs while I took up the couch. 
“I mean, when you think they’re ready, do you give them a case and help them get their foot in the door?”
“No, no I don’t,” Harvey admitted. “Louis is in charge of the associates. You know that.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “But I just thought that there was some deal between you guys: you have a mock trial with the new associates, whichever team wins gets to give a case to the best performing associate.”
Harvey laughed. I didn’t even know he knew how to do that. “Oh, Claudia, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?” My throat collapsed on itself. What did I say?
“Relax,” he set his glass down, swallowing his sip. “Yes, we do a fake trial every year for the first years, but we don’t just give them cases when they win. No one in their right mind would give a first year associate, fresh out of law school, the time of day. Normally they have to prove themself down the line, after years and years of loyalty to this firm to get their first case. And it’s usually pretty easy pro-bono shit.” I had to stop and think for a moment before I could speak. “You keep saying normally, usually… What are you saying?”
“What I’m saying, Claudia, is that in my decade plus of working here, I’ve never seen an associate who busts their ass quite like you. Who takes every ounce of bullshit from Louis and turns it into the Mona Lisa.”
“I think that everyone does tha-”
“No,” he cut me off. A stern look in his eyes, lips in that crooked line. “No they don’t. Not like you. You put your head down, get into it, and don't come up until you’ve found what you were looking for and thensome. You go above and beyond every time. You don’t go to Louis begging for more work, he brings it to you, and only you, because he knows he can count on you. Which means I know I can count on you, too.”
I honestly didn’t know what to say. I kind of just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. To make me evaporate and never see the light of day again. 
“Thank you, Mr. Specter. But I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but I am not very good in the spotlight. I don’t do well with… all of this.”
“I know, but I’m glad that you are trying anyway,” his smile was very charming. In a way that made his eyes crinkle. “So, besides giving a hell of a cross examination, what else do you like to do for ‘fun’?” 
“Well, for starters, your definition of fun, and mine, are going to be very different. I am a very solitary person, I don’t need to be around people to have a good time. Most of the time I prefer to go do things by myself because I find when I ask, people already have plans, or they’re faking having plans so they don’t have to hang out with me. I can’t tell what is the truth and what isn’t so I stopped asking… that was totally not what you asked. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble.”
“Go ahead, talk about whatever you want. I won’t judge you.”
A small part of me believed that he wouldn’t. A tiny, microscopic part. 
“There is nothing like the feeling of getting lost in a good book. I’m a complete sucker for a cliche rom-com where the bad guy gets the good girl.”
Harvey let out a dramatic puff of air, laughing into the space around us. 
“You said you wouldn’t judge!” I chuckled. 
“I’m not, it’s just lame. Come on, what do you really like to do for fun?”
“That is what I really like to do for fun,” I let my hand fall to the cushion beside me. “I told you, I am not a very interesting person. I don’t have time for a whole lot of anything other than working here so… Most of my hobbies have been put on the back burner through grad school and working nonstop.”
“If you could be any type of sea creature, what would you be?” 
“What does that literally have anything to do with anything we were just talking about?”
“It doesn’t,” Harvey smiled. “I’m just curious.”
“I don’t know, a jellyfish?”
“Really?” He questioned, one brow rising higher than the other. “I’d be a great white shark.”
“Of course you would,” I snickered. “Harvey Specter, the Great White of New York. If you wanted to be a real predator that no one fucks with, you should be an Orca.” “A whale?” “The killer whale,” I corrected. “They put sharks in the obituary for fun, you know. They sink yachts for fun, too. If you really want to be on top, be an Orca. No one in their right minds fucks with an Orca. They’re intelligent and not afraid of anything.”
“Aww, you think I’m intelligent and not afraid of anything?” Harvey mewled. 
“Well, duh you’re Harvey Specter.” Everyone knew it. Harvey was the baddest cat in the sky, you didn’t approach him without giving him your respect. Cause if you didn’t, a whole boat load of shit will be coming your way. 
Harvey rolled his eyes. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but there is more to Harvey Specter than the title my name comes with.”
“Of course,” I agreed. “Harvey Specter, badass attorney and the best closer New York has ever seen, killer whale of the corporate world.” Harvey couldn’t keep his laugh inside, sending the rumbling noise into the office. I made Harvey laugh, and I have for the past however many minutes. 
“You left out the part where I’m devastatingly attractive and charming,” his smirk was nothing short of either of those things. Devastating and charming. It cut through me like a hot knife. I knew I blushed because his eyes went to my cheeks and that spot at the base of my throat that always gives it away. 
My fingers tapped away anxiously at the glass in my hands, fingernails rattling against its crystal surface. 
“It’s late I should… I should go.” Great, now I’m flustered and stuttering. As quickly as I could, I threw my heels back on and reached for my coat. 
“Claudia-”
“Thank you for the drink, and for all your help on the case,” I hurried out, trying to not let my voice break and give away all the things I wanted to say. “Have a good night, Mr. Specter.”
“Claudia.” His voice commanded, stopping my movements. I held still on the couch, drinking in his stare. “Stay.”
“Mr. Specter I really should-”
“Harvey,” he bit out a little harshly. “Stop calling me Mr. Specter.”
“I’m sorry. Harvey, it’s late.” He just nodded, taking a sip from his glass. “And?”
“It’s been a long day and I think we should both go and get some much deserved rest,” I spoke quietly, resuming my nail picking from earlier. 
“Do you really want to leave?” 
It was such a loaded question. Yes, absolutely I wanted to fucking leave. But there was something deep in his eyes, deep in his voice that made me want to stay and explore. My heart was hammering in my chest. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, no matter how much I wanted to look away. It was impossible. 
“I don’t think you do,” he answered for me. “I told you I was going to help build your confidence.”
You never told me how, jackass, I thought. I swallowed, nothing going down, but I did it anyway. Harvey threw back what was left of his whisky and sat back, knees far apart, fingers drawing patterns on the arm rests of the chair. 
“Come here, Claudia.” What? “You heard me.”
Shit, I must’ve said it out loud. If I thought my heart was racing before, it sure as hell was halfway around the world now. Legs trembling, I rose. Why the fuck did I stand up? It wasn’t too late to make a beeline for the door and pray he didn’t catch up. Then again, it wasn’t like I could escape him, we worked in the same fucking building. On the same floor. 
When I came to a halt, a few feet in front of him, he held out his hand, palm up. As I put my fingers in his grasp, there was nothing I could do. Harvey yanked me to him, other hand catching my hip as I collapsed into him with a yelp. 
“Straddle my thigh,” he ordered. Something about the way his voice went down my spine made me obey. With extreme hesitance, I moved one leg on each side of his, lowering myself. I didn’t dare put all of my weight down. And he knew it because his hands came up to my hips and forced me all the way. 
“Sir, what are you-”
“Do not call me Sir unless you are ready to deal with those consequences.” His fingers dug into the exposed skin on my thigh, eyes full of his pupils. 
“Harvey, what are you doing? We shouldn’t be doing… whatever this is,” I tried to defuse the situation as best I could, but there was such a seriousness written in his features I wasn’t sure I could sway him. Maybe I didn’t want to, either. 
“How does it feel?” He asked.
I blinked, “H-How does what feel, Harvey?”
He smiled at the use of his name on my tongue. I hadn’t really ever called him by his first name.
“To have one of the most powerful men in the city underneath you, bent to your will?”
When I did look away from his face, to where I was seated on his lap, I felt my stomach start to twist and mold into something new. I did have Harvey Specter underneath me. Granted, at his own command, but still…
“And before you even think about it, no. I don’t do this with all the other associates.”
“Then why me?” My voice was a barely there whisper, gaze averted from his until his thumb caught my chin and made me look into his eyes. 
“Because I see something else in you that I don’t think anyone realizes. And I know the world will never see it unless you start believing in yourself and take control of the cards you’ve been dealt.”
I took a moment to steady my breath, and my uncontrollable thoughts. “And you think that whatever this is… you think this is going to help with that?”
Harvey shrugged, “I am in no way forcing you to be here, am I?”
My blush came creeping back. Of course he wasn’t forcing me to be here. I shook my head, my face just inches from his. I felt oddly relaxed under his touch.
“And I am not stopping you from getting up and leaving right now. It’s your choice, Claudia, but I think you want to be here, on my lap. Because if you didn’t, you would’ve already left.”
God dammit I hated this cocky son of a bitch. Was he right? Yes. Of fucking course he was. But the way his mouth curled up was dangerous. This was dangerous, and utterly a horrible idea. Was I really about to sit here, on one of my bosses thighs? He did look pretty good under me, shirt unbuttoned the top three, cologne wafting into the air every time he moved his head. 
Harvey’s hands came back to my hips as he leaned up.
“So, are you going to get up and leave? Or, are you going to ride my thigh while I tell you how pretty you look?” His breath tickled my ear, his lips trailing the space just below. I couldn’t help the shudder that went through my whole body, and I knew Harvey felt it because he cooed.
As I adjusted myself, I couldn’t help the movement, his breath on my skin was making me flutter, Harvey moved my hips back and forth. I felt the air take from my throat. The material of his pants against my core wracked through me. So unexpectedly I found myself pressing closer to him so I wouldn’t fall off. 
“That’s it, Claudia…” His voice was sickly sweet with praise. Harvey moved to fiddle with the front of his pants, and when I went to look, he caught my chin. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”
“Harvey this… this isn’t the best idea,” I kept trying to reason. Not necessarily with him, but with myself. Obviously he wanted it, so why was I trying to convince myself to go?
“So?”
“This could have some serious implications if we don’t-”
He laughed against my neck, placing a few kisses right over where I always blushed. “Claudia, Claudia, Claudia. This is exactly what I have been talking about. You are wound far too tightly with concern. You need to let go, need to be out of control with something in your life.”
“Let me guess, that something is going to be you?”
“Only if you want it to be,” he said. “Look Claudia, I know we don’t exactly always see eye to eye on things, and we sure as hell haven’t really worked together, but that doesn’t make me less sure about this. About you. If you are having doubts, and this isn’t what you want, then walk away and we never have to talk about it ever again. But I think there is a part of you that really likes seeing me under you. That likes knowing you can make me this way.”
“And what if I do?” Harvey was right. God dammit he was right and he knew it. I looked and saw just what I had been doing to him. 
“Then just let yourself enjoy it because I know I want to.”
Man, he was quite the smooth talker. My resolve crumbled and I gave in. No, I didn’t give in, I made the choice to let this happen. Harvey wanted this too, for some reason known only to the great mother and beyond. This was not going to end well, I don’t know why I thought so, but I just know this is going to cause a problem down the road. Maybe it’ll be a good one, maybe it won’t– Jesus I need to get out of my head before I start thinking into oblivion. 
Harvey rolled his eyes, hand cupping the side of my face before his lips met mine. The gasp I let out… I could feel his smile. He guided my hand into the front of his pants, but did nothing else. Just left it there. 
When I tried to pull away, he bit my lip and pulled me right back in. Finger pressing into the front of my throat. In a commanding, possessive way that made my stomach burn with desire. 
I slowly traced around the outline of him. My fingers were trembling so fiercely that I wasn’t sure they were moving at all. As best I could control them, I made my way up to the waistband of his briefs, just… testing the waters. 
“You’re so close to where I need you,” Harvey purred, eyes looking at my surly swollen lips. “Go on, sweetheart, don’t be shy.”
I guess there really was no turning back. As my hand ventured further, I ducked down and swept my tongue into his mouth. He approved very enthusiastically. Harvey continued to guide my hips back and forth and back and forth across his thigh. All too gently, all too slowly. One of his hands kept working my hip, the other camp up around my throat.
How could he know that was one of my weakest sides? It didn’t prevent any air, but it was a firm reminder. 
His breath broke our searing lips when I moved my thumb over the tip of his cock. Harvey’s grip tightened on my throat and a noise slipped through my mouth. There was little I could do to keep my eyes from lulling back, head going with it. He made an effort to weave his fingers between my locks and pulled. A lot harder than I think he actually meant to. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured against my ear, sending goosebumps down my neck and arms. “I can’t help myself when you make such pretty noises. I’ll be gentle.”
I huffed out a laugh, as best I could with the straight against my neck. “I don’t mind.”
“Those are dangerous words, Claudia,” he warned, bringing my head back up. His eyes were dark in a way I couldn’t process in that moment. His lips were red and his hair was a mess from my fingers. 
I tugged at him as emphasis for my earlier words. “I don’t mind you being rough with me.”
His eyes closed, and his jaw clenched. I continued my motions, slow and long, drawing divine noises from him. Even with his hands away from my hips, I still moved them, picking up pace with my hand. I took the liberty to occupy his mouth with my own, hopefully filling him with euphoria. It was fast, and quite messy. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck with sweat, and I could taste it on his skin when I couldn’t help but trail my tongue up his throat. 
Harvey murmured my name, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t now, not with the constant moans and praise from his tongue. ‘Just like that sweetheart’, ‘I know that pretty mouth of yours will feel so much better wrapped around my cock’, ‘Can’t wait to take you apart’.
With his release, warm and wet over the back of my hand, he stilled my hips. Fingers digging in. At some point my skirt rode up, or he tugged it over my ass, and his nails left long lines of scratches. I hissed, and Harvey was breathing deep.
Harvey’s grin was nothing short of animalistic as he looked at where my hand still connected us. “Look at that, sweetheart. Look how well you’ve done.”
I could do nothing to keep my blood from rushing to my face. When I moved my hand– not entirely sure if I should get up and clean it off– Harvey snatched my wrist. 
“Open.”
I was going to question him, but I watched his eyes flick over my surely swollen lips. I flushed deeper. And deeper again as he moved them into my mouth. Bitter, but not in a bad way. And If I had been thoroughly fucked, I’d undoubtably find it irresistible. 
“Good girl, Claudia.”
There would be no way to recover from hearing that. I shuddered, so hard I clamped his thigh between my own, and whimpered. Like I had never before. And his stare… the way his eyes watched my tongue circle over my fingers. As they watched me swallow him down. 
“I bet you didn’t even realize,” he tilted his head, tucking hair behind my ear, flopping it behind my shoulder. 
“Realize…what?”
“How you took control. How confident you were with your hand… with that wicked tongue of yours. It was like it was second nature for you, wasn’t it? I didn’t even have to tell you to keep moving your hips. You just did it.”
I didn’t even know I was doing most of it… It all just happened. At some point or another. 
“I wouldn’t say that I was confi-”
“Yes,” he interrupted. “You were. And that feeling, of being in control, is what you need to feel when you are in the courtroom. You were able to do it here, with me, to me. It was the most powerful and direct I’ve ever seen you.”
“Sex and being a lawyer aren’t exactly the same thing.”
“No, but you were able to feel safe and let yourself go. To release all that potential and work miracles.”
“You’d consider me giving you an orgasm a miracle?”
He chuckled, leaning so his lips brushed against mine. “Your hands do miraculous things to me, Claudia. I don’t normally give myself to someone the way I did with you. I didn’t have any second thoughts about it because I knew how willing you’d be to please me. And god damn do I love watching you pleasure yourself for me.”
In the minutes that followed, Harvey stood me up and straightened out my skirt. He did give me some hand sanitizer until I could go to the bathroom. I watched as he tucked in his shirt, buttoning his pants and rolling the sleeves back up his arms. 
“Harvey?”
“Yes, Claudia?” His voice was much more mellow. 
“How often is this… you know. Gonna happen?”
He smirked, “Why, already picturing yourself on your knees for me?”
I wasn’t, but I sure as hell was now. One thing that I needed to learn to do was control my facial reactions because judging by the way his stepped closer, he could see that I was, in fact, picturing his hand in my hair while he forced me to take it down my-
“Oh sweet sweet Claudia,” he chuckled, tilting up my chin. “You really are that eager to please me.”
“I was just wondering when you were going to return the favor.”
Harvey seized my throat, tighter than he had before. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I will have my name dripping from your tongue for so long you will forget it completely and beg for mercy. And when you beg for it, just know that you won’t get it until I say you do.”
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steddiealltheway · 2 years
Text
Part two to some kind of AU that still doesn't have a title or clear plot...
Steve giddily laughs his entire short drive home, turning up his music a little louder than usual and rolling his windows down. As he pulls into the driveway to his and Robin’s townhouse, he’s fully head banging and belting out incorrect lyrics.  
As he cuts the engine, he waves at his neighbor, Murray, who is watering his garden in his robe.  
Steve gets out of the car and presses the ice pack into his wrist, finding that it’s only slightly sore. 
“Someone got laid,” Murray sings teasingly.  
Steve rolls his eyes replying, “For once, you’re wrong.” 
Murray immediately turns off the hose and grabs a flask out of his robe pocket. He takes a swig and explains, “Clears the mind.” He gives Steve a look up and down and guesses, “You have a new romantic interest in your life.” 
“Something like that,” Steve says without suppressing his wide smile while making his way to his front door. 
“Make sure to bring them to me and Alexei so we can determine how long it will last!” Murray yells as Steve makes his way inside.  
Steve continues to smile, resisting the urge to do a little happy dance. 
“That good, huh?” Robin asks, glancing up from the papers she’s grading. “I’m surprised. The guy didn’t look like he would be good in the sack.” 
Steve hangs his keys up and nonchalantly says, “He wasn’t, and I didn’t sleep with him. He kind of had a boyfriend.” 
Robin immediately is abandoning her work and moving to sit on one of their wooden bar stools – her signal that she’s all ears. Steve laughs and moves to the other side of the kitchen island, putting the ice pack in the freezer.  
“Why do you have an ice pack? Did the boyfriend do this to you? Steve, did you get into a fight?!” Robin yells. 
Steve grabs a banana from the counter and peels it saying, “Careful, Robin. You know Murray is listening through the walls right now translating for Alexei.” 
Robin groans, “I’ve been grading these kids' worksheets ever since you left the bar and I came back home. Give me the break and drama I deserve.” 
“I haven’t been gone for that long.” 
“It’s sixth grade band, Steve. They can’t read music, and no matter how many times I preach ‘Every Good Boy Does Fine’ and ‘FACE’ they still can’t get it! Spare me,” Robin begs leaning over the counter. 
Steve takes another bite out the banana just to torture his best friend for a few more moments, but he can hardly stand not telling her. “Okay! So, me and... I don’t remember his name... let’s go with dumbass. He and I were in bed, and it was awful, Robin. Awful. I get there are slim pickings in Hawkins but... That’s not the point!”  
Steve runs a hand through his hair and takes the final bite of his banana talking around the mouthful. “I was wondering how I could leave without offending him, and all the sudden he handcuffs me, even though I thought it was clear that I was uncomfortable with him joking about it. And just when I’m about to start panicking, someone busts into the room. Turns out, dumbass has a boyfriend, and a really really gorgeous one honestly.” 
Robin gasps, “No way!” 
Steve continues, “And I’m sitting there watching them fight because there was no way that Eddie was cool with his boyfriend with another dude, obviously.” 
“Obviously,” Robin parrots, hand reaching into their M&M jar and throwing a handful in her mouth. 
Steve takes an M&M as well and goes on, “And then I realize as dumbass is leaving that I’m stuck. And those handcuffs were not coming off and, get this, dumbass still has the key in his pocket.” 
“No!” 
Steve throws away the banana and hops on the kitchen island. “So, Eddie tries to pick the lock, and he tells me that he doesn’t know how but he knows how to hotwire a car? Anyways, we got to talking and he’s so sweet, Robin. He gave me that ice pack, and he’s drawing a custom design for Dustin’s dice! So, I gave him my number, and he said he would call me.” 
Steve’s legs swing as he thinks about Eddie. 
“Let me get this straight,” Robin says and takes in a deep breath – an indicator of an imminent spiraling breakdown. “You gave a complete stranger whose boyfriend you almost slept with our home number which he could call and track and get our address and get revenge on you! And by you, I mean us because he can’t have any witnesses. And then we’re both dead and die a horrible gruesome death because you think this man who you met briefly and owns handcuffs is cute?” 
Steve nods for a few moments, taking in Robin’s rant. “....Yeah.” 
Robin thuds her head on the counter and sighs, “You’re going to be the death of me.” 
“I think Ms. Nancy Wheeler will be the actual death of you,” Steve teases, jumping back before Robin moves to smack him on the arm. He’s glad to know one of Robin’s weaknesses – the eighth grade English teacher – is a great distraction. Robin goes into her usual rant about how Nancy is probably straight like almost everyone else in Hawkins, but then she trails off to go over every time they’ve made eye contact or spoken.  
Steve half listens to her, having heard the story of how Nancy once sat next to Robin during a staff meeting even though there were three other seats available about a million times before. Sometimes Steve thinks the middle school hormones rub off on them, too. Especially since he cannot stop thinking about Eddie and staring at the home phone, willing it to ring.  
But no matter how hard he stares – or how many times Robin makes fun of him for it – the phone doesn’t ring that night.  
This is heading in a different direction than I expected... do we like?
(Trying to tag people who asked me to tag them
@gaysonthefloor @tinydragonhuman @micheledawn1975 @kerlypride @counting-dollars-counting-stars @yourebuckingkiddingme )
Part three
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