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#i couldn’t sleep last night for a myriad of reasons but one of them was hunger pains bc i couldn’t eat rlly at all

lady-october · 2 months

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Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Full Story : Availabe on Archive of Our Own

Story Content : 18+, Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Dom/Sub, Sadism/Masochism, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapters 2 - 8 : Mega Post

This post contains chapters 2-8 of You Got a Taste Now so that all chapters can be read on Tumblr as well as on Ao3. All future chapters will be posted as individual posts, but I do recommend reading these early chapters on Ao3 instead, as it's a lot easier to keep track of where you are that way. Link above!

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Chapter 2 - What the hell is happening?

Chapter title is lyrics from "Dear Diary"

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It was raining.

Of course it was, it had been raining all morning. This was England after all.

I was sitting under an awning on the balcony of the same hotel room from last night, waiting for everyone to wake up. Only six hours had passed since Oli went back to his room after what I fondly will refer to as ‘having his way with me’.

Six hours, and all I’d done since was clean the place up – poorly might I add, and had a shower to freshen up. Such simple tasks, so easy to sum up in one short sentence. But something very different was happening on the inside. My mind didn’t get a moment of rest, it was replaying the event over and over, picking it apart from every direction – catching up on the self psychoanalysis I was avoiding just six hours ago.

I shook my head.

Still just six hours, that can’t be right…

I reached for my phone to check the time once again, only 9 minutes had passed since I last checked.

The idea of sleep had felt offensive, so I hadn’t even considered it. Instead most of the time was spent pacing back and forth in my hotel room in my bathrobe, experiencing a myriad of confusing emotions and thoughts. So many unanswered questions were floating aimlessly in my mind. Was I into pain? No, surely not.. Maybe? But oh god it felt so good...

I had always considered myself fairly vanilla. In fact this was the first time I’d had sex that wasn’t in a bed. But I liked that, the bedroom was safe, relaxing, sweet and tender. It was.. great. And not at all boring.

I've had great sex before… Right?

And then there were the serious thoughts, the ones that had been hard to touch on but I couldn’t help revisiting.

Such as; was this a form of self harm? Will I get addicted to this type of high?

Will every other form of sexual intimacy become meaningless in comparison?

My mind would rake through these harder, more painful thoughts, gingerly touching them like hot coals fresh from the fire, checking if they’d cooled down enough to examine them closer.

But they were still entirely too hard to process.

Then the insecure thoughts would creep in; why didn’t he tell me whether he wanted to do this again or not? Was it just a one time thing – or had I been disappointing in some way? God what a sad thought to have.

I wasn’t the most secure of people. Before this job I’d been quite shy, and the only reason I had even applied for this was because I desperately needed to get away from my life after I found out my ex had cheated. I’d been living with him since I was 20, I’m now 31. We were looking to buy a house, have kids... And then one day after my office job, I was cooking dinner, he’d left his phone on the counter and I saw the text pop up on his phone. ‘I miss you’ it read. Just three simple words that would end my life as I knew it.

I’d suspected it for years. He wasn’t home much, always out with the guys, and when he was around he barely paid me any attention.

I just wasn’t ready to face it.

After I’d moved back to my parents, a friend of mine suggested this job. She worked with the agency recently and could give me a shining recommendation if I felt like travelling and partying with rockstars. It was so far out of my comfort zone I just laughed it off at first, but something in me had been itching to break free and do something wild for as long as I could remember. So I did it, I applied – and she wasn’t lying about shining recommendations, they seemed thrilled to have me onboard so last minute.

But whenever I got an order wrong, or knocked over seemingly expensive equipment I always felt like an imposter, because the truth is that I’m a truly terrible assistant. And the only reason I was here was because my friend who has connections in the right places was worried I was wasting away.

No, let’s be real; she was worried I’d off myself any day now.

I wasn’t that far gone, but I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind. And I’d be lying if I said it hadn't occurred to me that I was heading there.

But everything changed when I started working for the band. They were such lovely and fun people, making even shy me want to break out of my shell a little bit – sometimes.

It had only been three weeks since I was brought onto the touring team, it was mostly me (Alice) and Liam, who had been doing this for years. Liam was a 40 something, flamboyant, kind hearted, and extremely patient soul, who was doing his very best to try and teach me the ropes. The first time I met him I knew we’d get along great. An unfortunate series of events had unfolded causing me to be half an hour late to the meeting with him and the agency. I’d woken up that morning to my mother screaming bloody murder at her cat cause he’d dragged in a bird and managed to sprinkle pieces of guts and feathers all over the living room, only to realise I’d turned off the alarm and was actually running so late I wouldn’t have time to do anything besides put on my clothes from the night before and potentially get a speeding ticket on my way there. I’d stumbled through the door, hair in a bird's nest, hiding my pizza stained shirt with an oversized coat. I was about to start running down the corridor to get to the front desk on the other side of some glass doors, when I heard a light yet demanding male voice behind me.

“Oi, hold up a minute, are you Alice?”

I hadn’t noticed him sitting next to the front door. He got up from his seat, absolutely towering over me. He was a skinny man, long blonde hair very similar to my own, clipped back on one side with a hair clip that shockingly read ‘die cunt’ in a cursive font – such an aggressive contrast from the sweet man, smiling from ear to ear before me.

“I was told you might be a bit late so I thought I’d wait for you..” He eyed me up and down and frowned, took a step back and folded his bare arms. One thing to note about Liam is that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him wearing anything with sleeves, usually this is a trait of someone who works out a lot, or has a lot of tattoos, but neither of these things were true about Liam. He just had a peculiar aversion to sleeves.

“Y-yes, I am so sorry I’m late, I-”

I don’t think he was listening to me cause suddenly he snapped his fingers like he’d figured something out, then wordlessly took the clip out of his hair and proceeded to push my hair back on one side with it, while sprucing up the other. “There! At least now the mess looks intentional.”

I took a look at myself in the reflection of the glass door behind him, and it did.

We never talked much about our feelings, but Liam always had my back. He could clearly tell I was a lost soul and very much out of my element. I hadn’t seen him in almost two days, he had given me a long list of instructions, including how to deal with the party from last night, then he’d taken the past two days off before we flew to America – which we were scheduled to do in just three short hours.

A pigeon landed on the balcony next to me, snapping me back to the current situation, and I checked my phone for the billionth time. To my dismay only 5 minutes had passed this time, so I slump forward with a groan, which scared the pigeon off.

I just wanted to get the awkward bit over with. I was almost certain everyone had heard me and Oli last night – maybe not Matt, he was particularly wasted.

The last instruction on the long list Liam had left me said “Don’t you fucking dare wake the lads until the last minute. They’ll be furious if you do and probably end up blaming me.”

So I waited.

Nowhere in the notes had he specified what to do if the lead singer bends you over and fucks you. It could have come in handy right about now because I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I wanted so badly to fast forward a day, after we’d all said our awkward good mornings, after the drive to the airport – and especially after having been stuck on a flight together for 8 hours. I just wanted to be tucked into my hotel room in Vegas already, finally relaxing, maybe even some sleep if my thoughts would allow me.

Maybe I’d even have some answers from Oli at that point.

I heard the tap running from inside and my head snapped to glance through the glass doors of the balcony. I could see Matt standing by the sink, taking some form of tablet with a glass of tap water. I was surprised to see him be the first to wake up, considering his state last night.

After taking a deep breath to hype myself up to get this over with, I walk back into the common area of the suite.

“Heey Alice, just who I wanted to see. Any chance you could whip us up some coffee, my head’s bloody pounding”, Matt said, looking absolutely miserable.

“Morning, yeah of course, what do you want?” This was good, if we just focused on the job surely it wouldn’t be too awkward.

Walking into the kitchen area with a clear task in mind, I could now see the sitting area where the whole band was currently lounging, including Oli with his hoodie up, bent over his phone. Liam was also back, occupied by dragging luggage out of the rooms. He must have come back recently and woke everyone up. And I had been too lost in thought to even notice.

In my surprise at the turn of events, I’d completely missed what Matt had requested.

“S-sorry Matt, what did you say?” I spoke sheepishly, shyness creeping in once I realised Oli was in the room.

“Just black for me.” Matt repeated, then Lee spoke up from the sofa, sounding chipper, “I’d go for some food myself.”

Lee was clearly the most sober last night, which was also evident by his mood today. He both sounded and looked well rested, unlike the rest of them.

Everyone spoke up with their orders, except Oli. He had yet to tear his attention away from his phone, typing furiously the whole time. Lee gave Oli’s arm a slap, “You don’t want anything Oli?”

“Nah mate, I’ll just eat on the flight.” He said, sounding completely unbothered, not looking away from his phone.

“Alright! All done with that bit.” Liam proclaimed after stacking the last piece of luggage near the door, while nearly sprinting in my direction, flaunting that big warm smile he so often wore.

“Alice, my sweet doll, you’ve done fantastic.” He proceeded to bend over and give me a hug. While looking over his shoulder I could see that the place appeared significantly cleaner than the state I’d left it in some hours ago. He really did have my back. Thank you, I mouthed at him as he pulled away.

The next hour was spent getting everyone's orders and loading up the van, then we were off to the airport. To my surprise there had been no awkwardness as of yet. No one had said anything out of the ordinary banter, and no one had treated me any different than the night before – besides Oli who had not made eye contact once, or spoken a word to me.

To be perfectly fair I’d been avoiding him too. I just had no clue how to break the ice.

Liam decided he would drive the van to the airport because he was more familiar with this area than me, so I sat up front next to him. The whole band sat behind us in two rows, and this is when the ‘no awkwardness’ streak ended.

Oli had managed to sit in the only seat that was visible from my angle in the rear-view mirror, which meant if we both looked at the same time we’d lock eyes. The potential of that happening had me both exhilarated and panicked, which made me feel pathetic. Something so insignificant shouldn't affect me this much. I kept catching myself stealing glances, mentally whipping myself for the lack of discipline. Everytime I caught myself looking, he was just staring out the window, fairly expressionless. Such a stark contrast from all the passionate emotions on his face last night. The memory of them started playing in my mind like a filthy montage. Then my thoughts wandered back to how his hands felt on me, at one point I caught myself reaching for my throat as if to imagine his grasp still being there.

What the hell am I doing?

I straightened in my seat and tried to focus on something else, anything else.

I’d spent some time after my shower inspecting my neck, not knowing exactly how to cover the faint marks left there. I’d settled for a high collared dress, then right before leaving my room I’d added a scarf for good measure. I knew I’d have to take it off eventually. Sure, it was cold in London, but not in Vegas. Liam must have noticed something was up cause he kept glancing over at me with suspicion.

We were just a couple of minutes into the half hour drive to the airport, the rest of the guys had been chattering and joking with each other nonstop at this point when Mat (not to be confused with Matt) complained, “I’m so fucking tired though, maybe I can get some sleep on the plane. Was it you Lee that was railing some poor bird last night? I couldn’t sleep at all until you two were done, and frankly I was shocked to not see the whole place destroyed when I got up.”

My heart sank and I willed myself to not look at Oli’s reaction, even though everything in me was screaming to just have a quick peek.

Matt chimed in, “I just put in some earplugs, I’m so fucking tired of listening to Lee at this point.”

I could hear Lee laughing, “Wasn’t me mate, I was the last one awake but I bumped into Oli on his way back out as I was heading to bed. You got something to share with the group Oli?”

The whole band broke out in ooo’s and aaa’s and anyone who could reach started peppering Oli’s arm in teasing punches, as well as messing up his hair. This is when my concentration broke and I let myself look at Oli, he was smiling awkwardly at them, then he also stole a glance in the rearview mirror and we locked eyes for only a split second, but it was enough for me to choke on my spit and start coughing. Liam's reaction came swiftly and dramatically as his head snapped to mine, eyes wide, jaw dropped. Did you really? He mouthed at me in disbelief.

I shrugged sheepishly, looking apologetic. Liam just shook his head as his expression relaxed into an amused smile.

While Liam had instantly pieced the puzzle together, no one seemed to have noticed what was going on in the very front of the vehicle, as the band was still very much focused on Oli.

“Was it that ginger who kept flirting with ya last night?” Lee inquired, “She was something else, wasn’t she?” He added, in an almost dreamy tone.

“Fucking hell, stop it.” Oli laughed, swatting everyone's hands away. “I don’t kiss and tell lads, you should know that by now.” He sounded so amused, making an involuntary smile tug at my lips.

“You don’t kiss at all as far as I’m aware. I thought you’d gone celibate since She Who Shall Not Be Named left the picture.” Retorted Lee.

Mat scoffed, “Whoever it was man, I’m just happy you’re on the rebound. It was getting sad.”

Rebound.. Is that what it was? A pang of sadness washed over me. It shouldn’t make me feel anything at all, especially since technically this was a rebound for me as well.

I knew that Oli was single, and I knew he’d been in a serious relationship. But from my knowledge that ended over a year ago. Has he really not been with anyone since, or was there someone more recent I didn’t know about from my quick google prior to taking this job?

The rest of the drive, and most of the flight Oli had continued being uncharacteristically quiet. He was usually clowning around with the rest of them, but whenever I dared steal another glance he appeared lost in thought, hints of sadness emitting from him.

It was clear that Liam wanted to talk about it but I’d gotten the impression that he was planning to wait until after since the quarters were so crammed. The small plane was split into two sections. One larger area that was mostly seating where most of the guys hung out, then a smaller area with a bar and cabinets for snacks, and just a couple of seats. For the first four hours of the trip Matt had been napping in the smaller area, but as soon as he evacuated Liam pulled me away to chat.

“Spill.” He demanded as he pulled me down into one of the seats next to him.

I instantly started blushing, “Honestly I don’t really know how it happened, he just sort of grabbed me and started touching me.” I spoke softly, afraid the words would travel despite how loud the plane was.

Liam looked very concerned, “Alice, do we need to call the agency? We can fly you back as soon as we get to Vegas if you-”

“Nonono,” I cut him off, waving my hands. “I understand the concern, but no I wanted it to happen.” I could feel the blush creeping in more and more.

Liam relaxed.

“It just happened really fast, and I still don’t have a clue what it means, or if it was just a one time thing.” I looked at Liam, questioning, as if I was hoping he’d have answers simply cause he’d worked with them longer.

“Oh love, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. All I know is that I haven’t seen him sleep around since I’ve worked with them the past year, but I don’t know what he does outside of tour-times. He was in a pretty serious relationship that I think messed him up a bit. But beyond that who knows, he’s a bit of a mystery-”, Liam cut himself off as we both spotted Oli walking through the doorway.

We locked eyes and I felt like a deer in headlights.

Had he heard us talking about him?

Liam's eyes darted back and forth between us, “right, I'm gonna leave you to it.” He proclaimed unceremoniously as he slapped his legs, got up, and slid past Oli out of the room. Liam wasn’t the most subtle of people.

And suddenly it was just me and Oli.

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Chapter 3 - Sticks and stones may break my bones

Chapter title is lyrics from "Ludens"

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Oli stood in the doorway for a second with his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his hoodie. He looked so shy. I knew he could be shy at times, I’d seen it with fans sometimes when we were out and about. But he had never been shy around me during the short interactions we had, just cocky and charming. I guess it was extra shocking to see after what we did last night. He walked over and sat down next to me, our legs brushed together for a split second, making him reposition.

He regretted it. My mind was flooded with the thought; he regretted being with me, it wasn’t what he wanted and now he’s going to turn me down entirely.

At this point I was so nervous I felt like I was going to puke.

We were both facing straight ahead, sitting in uncomfortable silence. Oli’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally spoke, “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

The words were so solemn I dared to turn towards him, his eyes were fixed on the floor in front of us, hair draping his face. Apparently I wasn’t the only haunted one.

But anger was creeping in from every direction. I was so sleep deprived, so confused, and overwhelmed from all my revelations, and now the added knowledge of him regretting what we did was just entirely too painful. The last thing I wanted was to be denied the only thing that had made me feel alive in years, but I could feel the possibility of it ever happening again slip away as quickly as it came about. So I snapped at him, “I don’t know what I did wrong last night, but I can tell you’re regretting what we did, and quite frankly I think that’s bullshit.”

His eyes shot to mine, the intensity from last night flashed behind them. “Do you not understand that I enjoyed hurting you?” His voice was dark and serious, “Do you think I want to be this person, someone who just can’t control themselves. I barely know you, and you’re an employee for fuck sake.”

It was my turn to open and shut my mouth repeatedly, I felt dumbfounded.

His hand, covered in a blackout tattoo with an intricate pattern, appeared from his pocket and reached out for my scarf. He let two of his fingers – the same ones he’d had inside me just the night before – graze leisurely down from my jawline to my collarbone, revealing the marks on my neck to him. His vision followed the trail of his fingers. I was frozen in place, a longing shiver running down my spine, making me forget for a split second how mad I was. Meanwhile a confusing mix of fascination, sadness, and possibly hunger was playing across Oli’s face. He continued speaking as he pulled his hand away, “Alice.. You walk around looking as lost as I feel. If I don’t put a stop to it now, if I let this play out, I’ll destroy you.”

The anger was back, and I adjusted my scarf to cover the marks again, “I’m not some poor innocent lamb being dragged off for slaughter. I’m a grown woman, I can decide for myself what I want to do.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t really give a shit.” He shook his head and let out a frustrated laugh, “How exactly do you see this ending, love?”

“I-I don’t really know, but I do know that last night was the most alive I’ve felt in years.”

“That’s the problem though, innit? I felt the same way, and that scares me. I don’t know where it ends, I wanted to just keep hurting you – and not just physically – to make myself feel better, to make you feel better. Do you know what I mean?”

There it was again, the confusing mix of arousal and fear. I hated how he described it as some form of self harm – for both of us. I hadn’t been able to digest that thought for myself last night while pacing in the hotel room, let alone his reasons for wanting to do certain things to me. Frustration was boiling inside me, making me want to scream. I didn’t want to care about the implications, the possible outcomes, I just wanted to keep exploring it. Fucking finally; something that made me feel better. Something that released the ever-building pressure inside me.

I steadied myself and looked him square in the eye, “I don’t care, and I don’t want to care.”

Oli turned towards me and leaned in close, his serious expression mere inches from my face, “I care.” He relaxed back into his seat, looking down before continuing, speaking softly now, “I think you’re a lovely person, Alice. You’re shy but you’re like a ray of sunshine – everyone agrees. Liam’s fantastic, but let’s be honest, the guys much prefer when you’re around. So I feel like a right prick for last night.” He glanced over at me before continuing, “I don’t know much about you, but I know you’ve recently come out of a long term relationship,” How did he know that? Appearing nervous, he adjusted his hair, “And I’m sure you know I haven’t been with anyone since.. After me and her broke up.”

I felt my brows furrow, a bit thrown off from his intimate knowledge of me, as well as confusion regarding where he was going with this.

He pressed on, “I know how I felt when I found out she’d cheated on me, and if you’re feeling even a crumb of that betrayal, I know you’re not in the best head space right now.”

My brows relaxed, realisation hitting me, “I see..” I sat up a bit straighter. “You’re right, you don’t know much about me Oli. You have no clue what my life has been like, or what my relationship was like – and how do you even know he cheated-” I shook my head for even asking, it wasn’t important right now, “Don’t worry about it. I understand, you think you’re doing me some grand favour.”

“You can be as mad as you need to be, love. I should have just picked one of the groupies last night and spared you all of this. I’m furious with myself for having jeopardised you wanting to stay with us for the rest of the tour.”

I shot out of the chair, feeling too close to tears to keep listening to him. “I’m not leaving the touring team. I don’t just give up when things get a bit complicated.” I retorted, glaring down at him.

He stood up in front of me, looking down on me now instead. An amused smile playing on his lips in acknowledgment that my words had referred to him turning me down rather than my job situation, “I know what you’re trying to say love, but I’m just glad you’re sticking around.” I just glared at him in response. He inclined his head towards the doorway that led to the larger area where everyone else was currently hanging out, “I’m assuming Liam knows?”

“Yeah, he figured it out in the van.”

“Do you want to keep this just between the three of us?” There was pity in his eyes, making it unclear whether he was asking due to his own privacy – out of shame of his actions, or whether it was for my comfort.

“Sure, we can do that.” Regardless of his motives, I still didn’t want everyone to know. Especially not now when Oli had made it clear this was just a one time thing.

One time. Was that really all it was going to be? I couldn’t tell if it was more or less painful to have experienced such an emotional and sexual high, and to have it be ripped away, or to never have experienced it at all and continue living my life as a zombie.

We parted ways and the rest of the flight was spent avoiding each other. Thankfully the other band members were playing games which made it easy to focus on their silly shenanigans rather than feel the emotional despair in silence.

It wasn’t until I walked through the door of the hotel room in Vegas that I let myself break down. The tears came instantly, I didn’t even make it to the bed. Instead I just let my body collapse against the door and sobbed.

Everything came crashing down, and there was just pain. Pain from knowing I wont be manhandled by Oli again, pain from feeling so terribly rejected by both him and my ex – like there was something deeply wrong with me on a personal level. Something inherently broken and off-putting.

Pain from having my life ripped away from me by some fucking loser who didn’t even know how to wipe his arse properly – made evident by the skidmarks I had to look at everytime I was doing the laundry. Why had I stayed with him? Why had I let myself become so… domesticated. I was just going through the motions of life, settling when it came to just about everything. My office job made me want to rip my hair out – but the pay was decent enough so I stayed. The flat we picked was not to my liking one bit – oh, but it was near his job so we took the lease anyway.

Did I even want kids, or had I only wanted them because he wanted them?

And then there was pain from all the small ways my personality had been ripped away from me bit by bit over the years. I wanted to dye my hair, but he liked it blonde. In fact he didn’t like it much at all when I appeared anything besides sweet and palatable. I think that was part of why it had been so liberating to dress in a more revealing manner the past three weeks. I finally didn’t feel complete boredom when looking at myself in the mirror anymore.

I cried and I cried, until I was beyond exhausted.

And then I finally slept.

The next day can only be summed up as utter madness, but it was always like that on the day of a gig. There was simply too much to do at any given moment, not made better by the fact that I’d overslept again. Being the crying mess I was last night I had completely forgotten to set an alarm, instead I had been woken by a frantic Liam pounding on my door, rambling off the whole list of things we needed to get done as soon as I let him into my room.

I was very grateful he hadn’t pointed out how I had overslept. His room was right next to mine so he more than likely had heard my little break down, made evident by how extra patient he was being. He instead helped me get ready, and then we proceeded to do our whirlwind of tasks. Most of the day had been spent at the arena getting everything just right, and before I knew it there was only half an hour until it was Bring Me the Horizons turn to perform.

I hadn’t seen any of the band members all day. Liam had repeatedly sent me off on little missions away from them – which again, I was grateful for. But I knew they had been backstage in the dressing rooms for many hours at this point, getting ready and warming up.

Walking down the corridor on my way to the stage area, I see the band filter out of the dressing room ahead of me. They’re laughing and chattering as they draw nearer, and Oli was holding a drink bottle. I had never seen him drink prior to a show before, only after. I gave it the benefit of a doubt, considering it could just be water, until they were walking up to me and noticed a slight flush on his cheeks, as well as his glassy eyes. He smiles lazily at me, making me look away out of awkwardness. The rest of the band paid me no attention as I rushed past them, knowing me and Liam were always too busy this close to a show.

A pang of worry hit me after they disappeared around the corner.

Had our talk caused him to get drunk now? Was the show going to be a disaster because of it? Would it all be my fault? I shook my head, knowing my thoughts were nonsense. Oli was responsible for his own actions after all. Yet the anxiety remained.

I found Liam and we took our place standing to the side of the stage, mere moments before the show started. Everyone but the lead singer was already on stage, and I could see Oli’s silhouette in the distance to our right as he waited for his queue.

My heart was sinking further, so I pulled Liam's shoulder down so I could speak into his ear over the loudness around us “Oli’s been drinking.” Liam looked at me, then over to Oli, before speaking back into my ear, “It should be fine, he does that sometimes, just been a while.” For some reason I had a hard time believing him, but my worries melted away once he ran on stage. The whole set went perfectly, if anything he sang with more passion than usual. But I did notice less crowd interactions, something he was quite known for doing a fair bit of.

It was very hard to watch him tonight. Everything he did would elicit vivid memories from two nights ago, making me desperate to be back there with him again. He was down on his knees, bent over panting, exerted from singing and performing, and my whole body would recall how it felt when he was hovering over me, holding me down, wearing a similar expression to the one he wore now. I tried to shake off the memories but it was too late, my core was already throbbing in anticipation.

Delusion set in; hope even. That maybe – just maybe he wouldn’t be able to resist tonight. Maybe the drinking would make him give in and take me back to that high I craved so badly, the high that felt more vital than air at the moment.

The song ended and Oli started running off stage to do a quick wardrobe change, he was about to turn the corner and run right past me but he must have seen it on me; how horny I was. For just a split second when our eyes met, he shot me the most feral look I could imagine.

Right before their set was over I decided to leave. I didn’t want everyone else to notice how ridiculously horny I was, and I wasn’t sure what I would have done if he looked at me like that again. I’d probably make a complete fool of myself and just blatantly moan, or simply throw myself at him.

So for everyone involved, especially myself, it just seemed smarter to remove myself from the situation.

I was briskly walking down the corridor from the stage to where a row of rooms were, when I heard someone running up behind me. Due to how loud the arena still was, I hadn’t heard it until just a second before someone grabbed me, and threw me over their shoulder, promptly knocking the air out of me. I never got a chance to see who it was, but I knew it was Oli. He felt and smelled just like him. Adrenaline surged through my veins, and that hope I’d felt earlier grew stronger. He pulled us into one of the adjacent rooms and kicked the door shut behind us with his boot. In one motion he flung me off his shoulder and pinned me to the door, further rattling me, wrapping my legs around his waist.

None of the lights were on in this room, instead everything was painted in hues of green from the emergency exit lights. My heart was pounding, and our breaths mingled as my vision adjusted. He was slick with sweat as he pressed against me, eyes glowing like green flames in the darkness. His voice came ragged, “Is this what you want?” He proceeded to grab me by the throat, making me gasp for air. “You stupid whore..” Words spoken through clenched teeth. He tightened his grip and gave me a shake. Instinctively my hands scramble to attempt to pry him off me so I could breathe, but to no avail. I was officially scared, more so than the first time he choked me. But what scared me significantly more than my lack of air was the realisation that I didn't want him to stop. Thankfully after a moment he let go and I slumped onto his shoulder, inhaling sharply several times. But he didn't let me compose myself before he yanked me back into his view.

A sadistic laugh escaped him, his wicked smile filling my vision, “Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you..” His fingers grazed my throat with intent, trailing off into my cleavage. His voice darkened “Couldn’t stop thinking about how you taste, how you feel..” His hips ground against mine, and I could feel the heat between us despite our clothes, as the length of his cock pushed against my pussy. I whimpered painfully, my throat incredibly sore. Through the hunger, his tone turned serious, “Before talking to you yesterday, I can’t tell you how badly I wished you’d regretted it – that you wished I hadn’t fucked you. If I knew you wanted more, how was I supposed to resist? It just feels too good doesn’t it?” As he was talking his expression slowly changed to almost childlike wonder. With a depraved smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I nodded in response.

He mimicked my smile then kissed me passionately, similarly to the other night; but something was different, something I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Our bodies moved together, trying to get closer. It didn’t seem to matter what we did, he just wasn’t close enough. So I reached between us to loosen his belt, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the door behind me, pulling his mouth away from mine. “Fuck sake, love. Let me do this my way, that’s what you want innit, for me to have my way with you?” I didn’t get a chance to respond before his lips covered mine again. The hand on my wrist pried my fist open and intertwined our fingers, turning the moment increasingly intimate – something he shied away from the other night.

A bewildering flurry of emotions bloomed in my chest; warmth, longing, sadness. It all came at once, intensified by him slowing our kiss to something deeper. Something just as powerful as the explosiveness from moments ago, but more akin to the roar of a bonfire.

My other hand freed itself from the tangles of his hair, and I let my fingers roam his face instead – an emotionally indulgent gesture that had him flinching the other night, seemingly welcomed tonight from the squeeze he gave my hand. His face was stubbly and so delightfully warm and slightly slick from the exertion of the show, making some of his hair stick to his temple. I imagined this is what he felt like after making love for a long time.

Making love.

Confusion crept in, not knowing how to interpret the situation, not knowing if this type of intimacy was something I wanted right now. Unlike the more aggressive activities which freed me from my internal pain, these tender ones were pulling on something very delicate, something that really didn’t want attention right now.

I felt vulnerable, like an open wound – infinitely more powerless than when he was choking me.

Was I starting to panic?

That’s when Oli pulled away, resting his forehead against mine, leaving me to wonder if he was having a similar experience.

A heavy silence fell. Uncertainty of what’s to come filled the air, making it hard to breathe. Do we go back to doing delightful and depraved things to feel better, or do we continue down this unknown path he was leading us down?

He raised his head and our eyes locked. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw; the vulnerability, the fire, the sadness – the pain. I felt like I was falling backwards. He was looking right through me, and letting me see something in him I wasn’t sure he showed very often. He inhaled a ragged breath, then leaned in to continue kissing me.

I thought I was scared before, but it paled in comparison to the fear I felt now.

I can’t do this.

My hands shoved at him, my head twisting away from his lips, “No! Get off me!” I bit out as he stepped back.

Tears stung behind my eyes as I struggled to land on my feet, then I tore the door open and ran.

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Chapter 4 - I can’t drown my demons

Chapter title is lyrics from "Can you feel my heart"

This chapter is from Oli's perspective.

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Something in me had been torn wide open, an old wound I thought had scarred over by now.

She had disappeared so quickly, leaving only the bright light from the corridor to flood me; a sobering and offensive spotlight, adding to the shock of having her ripped away from me so suddenly. My body felt like ice where she had been resting against me, warming me.

I wanted to run after her, beg her to forgive me for ruining everything, beg her to forget all about this, but my heart was breaking all over again. I looked down at my hands, watching them shake uncontrollably.

I needed to get my shit together, I couldn’t do this again. My eyes were burning when I decided to slam the door shut and lean against it to steady myself.

The rejection cut sharp and deep. I felt like some type of monster, like there was something incredibly unlovable about me. For some daft reason this was the time my heart decided to relax, and let myself be tender – just for a minute, and it sent her running. I scoffed at the realisation. She wasn’t scared of the passion; the darker side of it, no she wanted that a fair bit actually. But the heavier parts of me, the softer parts – that was the real monster.

I pushed off the door with a deep sigh and started pacing the small storage room in the dim green light, tears streaming down my face.

There had just been something about Alice, drawing me in like a magnet, bringing something out in me that I thought was either dead, or buried so deep I’d never see it again. And the mad bit was I couldn’t figure out why I liked some things about her. Everything she did was like witnessing a car crash miraculously be avoided at the last second.

The first day she worked for us I remember her running down some stairs with our food orders. The tall stack of containers were leaning against her upper body, only kept stable by her chin. With every step they’d slide around, threatening to knock the entire tower over. Yet somehow she made it down with everything intact despite stumbling on the last step. I couldn’t tell if she was cursed or incredibly skilled to be honest. Although the order had been real scuffed, I’m not sure any of us got what we wanted, but we didn’t have the heart to tell the poor thing. So we ate it anyway.

The moments that stuck in my mind the most were the ones where she thought no one was watching.

During one of the afterparties in her first week I’d seen her mixing drinks by a console in a dark corner across the room. She was doing a silly little dance to the music, her golden locks bouncing as she dropped a piece of lemon on the floor. A completely insignificant mistake, but she had stopped dead in her tracks, looked around, eyes wide as saucers to see if anyone had seen, then cheekily kicked it under the console. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Later that same night I saw Liam come in through some patio doors. The mad man had some type of vendetta against sleeves or something, cause why the fuck would you be outside like that in the middle of January?

I got up to catch him before he ran off again, “Hey Liam, you alright?”

He was clearly annoyed at having been interrupted doing whatever he was busy with, but he forced a smile, “I’m alright, what do you want?” He glared at me.

Liam was a blunt man, but I liked that about him. It was refreshing.

“What do you know about Alice?” I asked, trying not to look too sheepish.

He tilted his head, giving me a suspicious smile followed by a short pause as if he was contemplating whether to tell me anything at all, “Why are you asking?”

I looked away awkwardly, not knowing how to answer that, not knowing myself why I was so interested in her. He must have been satisfied with the reaction because he continued, “I know she’s freshly single, poor thing was also cheated on. So be kind to her, yeah?”

I nodded, “Yeah no worries man.” I was about to walk off, under the impression that he was done sharing, but he stopped me.

“You remember Shelley?” I nodded, she had just stopped working for us right before they brought on Alice, “Well Shelley put in a good word for her, it’s why she has this job. They’d been friends since childhood. Do you remember Shelley talking about her childhood friend from back home?”

The puzzle pieces started to fall in place. She was that Alice. The Alice that had allegedly set her ex’s car on fire when she found out he’d been cheating, the Alice who had been struggling with depression for as long as Shelley could remember, the Alice that Shelley had been calling everyday religiously, to make sure she hadn’t off’d herself after quitting her job and moving back to her parents.

Liam must have seen the realisation on my face, “Yeah she’s that Alice. So seriously Oli, be kind to her. She’s pretty fragile.”

Before that conversation I’d just had a fascination with watching her weird and charming behaviour, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

And it was making me feel like shit.

It didn’t help that I made her so delightfully flustered. Every time I spoke a word to her she’d stutter, stumble, or blush. It was intoxicating. I just wanted to tease her.

But things got unbearable when we were in Dublin. We were staying at a smaller hotel and my room was right next to hers. I was laying in bed trying to drift off when I heard a soft moan. My eyes shot open and I listened carefully. Another moan. I quickly sat up in bed and pressed my ear to the wall behind me. There were so many small noises it nearly drove me insane, before I knew it I was rock solid. I started to imagine doing things to her, that I was the one making her sound like that. Every night since I’d get hard thinking about her little noises, letting my imagination roam wild with increasingly degenerate things I wanted to do to her.

And every day I would notice her clothes becoming more revealing, her eyes on me dripping with more and more lust when she thought no one could see her looking.

Every day I’d also catch her staring into space, obviously in deep pain.

Something about that spurred me on, made me want to do things to her.

Liam’s words kept playing in my head over and over; be kind to her. And I agreed with that, she should get to heal and be surrounded by kindness. We all deserve that.

Then why did I want to humiliate her and call her names? Why was it that when I was alone at night, as cum was shooting onto my stomach, that my final thoughts would always be of her beautiful, freshly tortured face?

I tried to not overthink it, it was just fantasy, right? Just a fun thought to get off to. But then my mind would start to wander during the day as well, imagining things while watching her. That’s when I knew I had a problem.

It wasn’t until I grabbed her that night and fucked her that I realized the rough sex I wanted was actually to lessen the pain; for both of us. Was that healthy? I had no clue – probably not. Everything in my body had screamed at me to do it, like my subconscious knew exactly where to scratch the itch. I don’t know how I knew she had the same itch, I thought it might have been a deranged delusion until she’d confirmed it on the plane. Her pain had been a lighthouse in the night, but instead of steering clear of the warning, I’d headed right towards it.

It worked though. The morning after we had sex I felt lighter in some inexplicable way despite being guilt ridden and sleep deprived. And for the first time in over a year I was inspired to write lyrics. I was so wrapped up in writing on my phone that morning I hadn’t even noticed when Alice walked in from the balcony. Although the lyrics had been complete shit, but that was alright, it was part of the process. I just couldn’t believe I was writing again.

For some naive reason I had thought giving in, to let myself have her – just this once – would rid me of this obsession. So I could finally move on.

When she made it clear she wanted more, I panicked. But while infuriating, and challenging, I still had my mind set on staying away from her.

I’m an idiot.

My boot hit something while pacing back and forth in the green light of the storage room Alice had left me in, jarring me back to the moment. I noticed I wasn’t shaking anymore and took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

Tonight was different though, not like the first time. I don’t know if it was the exhaustion from the show, or just how impulsive I had been. Everything I told her on the plane I still believed, but something in me came undone when I saw how she was looking at me as I descended the stage. Suddenly her words from our conversation rattled in my head, sounding very convincing; ‘I don’t care, and I don’t want to care.’

I was so fed up with caring. I just wanted more of it – more of her. When I grabbed her tonight I felt so much frustration, so much anger with myself for not wanting to stay away anymore. Seeing the fear in her eyes as I choked her, even if it was just for a couple of seconds, made me feel such glee and satisfaction. I could have toyed with her all night.

But then she was wrapped around me, kissing me, caressing me with her delicate hands. She was so soft, so warm... A part of my heart that had long frozen over began to melt.

I was scared, but I felt brave enough to explore it.

Instead I was immediately reminded of why I had let that part of me freeze in the first place.

Pulling my knees up, I let my elbows rest on them as I dragged my hands through my hair, pushing it out of my face.

My sadness turned bitter. I was expected to be on vocal rest tonight after the show, which I was pleased about. All I wanted to do was wallow in my self pity– alone. I got up to find Liam so he could arrange a ride to the hotel. He had clearly seen something was off about me, but thankfully not questioned it, and before I knew it I was standing in the hotel shower.

As I was watching the water run down the drain I could feel myself slipping into a dangerously dark place of my mind. A place that had led me to drugs in the past.

I repeatedly tried to shake it off, but hours passed and I was still slipping.

Around two in the morning I decided to go down to the hotel bar, not so much to drink but rather to be around people, and to get a change of scenery.

When the elevator doors opened to the bar area, my heart sank.

Alice was sitting at the bar on the other side of the room, a bit hunched over. I contemplated turning around, going back upstairs, but I knew what waited for me there, and I’d had enough of that. Instead I took a deep breath and started walking towards her. The closer I got the more obviously drunk she appeared. She must have been here a while. My own sadness got pushed aside, sympathy taking its place.

“Alice?” I spoke gently, hoping not to startle her. Her hollow eyes turned towards me, barely meeting mine. She was far gone.

I continued, “Maybe it’s time to head to bed, yeah?”

Thankfully there was no fight in her, she just nodded clumsily and slid off the seat. She would have fallen on her face if I hadn’t caught her. I propped her against me as we slowly stumbled out of the bar. Once we were in the elevator she collapsed further and I slid one arm under her legs while the other supported her back, then I picked her up. She nestled effortlessly into me.

When we got up to my floor I realised I didn’t have a clue where her room was. I looked down at her pained face so close to mine, “Where’s your room, love?”

Her words came slurred, “You know I actually don't have a clue.”

I stood there staring at her for a long time, knowing my options and not liking them. I could either call Liam and let him know about her state, or take her back to my room.

Would she get fired if they knew she’d gotten this drunk during a tour?

Without skipping a beat I started walking towards my room. She wasn’t exactly the best at her job, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting in trouble for something I’d been the cause of.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was unlikely she’d get fired, but I couldn’t risk it; couldn’t risk her not being around anymore. I wasn’t ready for that.

I laid her down on the bed. She cuddled into the pillow instinctively and mumbled something inaudible. All I could do was pull the cover on top of her. Meanwhile something pulled at my heart.

I had been so lonely for so long. I didn’t even know this woman, how could I possibly feel anything for her beyond attraction? I was just falling for the idea of her, because I related to her situation. Knowing I’d go insane if I didn’t ignore the feelings, I pushed them aside.

I went and got the bin from the bathroom – just in case, and placed it next to the bed. Then I relaxed into the chair across the bed, watching her.

What fucking mess had I gotten myself into.

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Chapter 5 - Cut me open and tell me what’s inside

Chapter title is lyrics from "Avalanche”

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I was swimming somewhere not quite conscious when I heard snoring – something I hadn’t heard since I was living with my ex. But it was softer, different from the one I had listened to for years. I pried my dry eyes open to make sense of it. It was like looking through a blurry lens from somewhere far, far away, but I could see Oli awkwardly tucked into an armchair across from me – fast asleep. The lights spilling in through the window from the Vegas nightlife, painting him in shades of pinks and blues. A fleeting image of his eyes in the green light flickered in my thoughts before I drifted off again.

The next time I woke up it was much brighter and my head was spinning. I pulled the cover higher to be rid of the assaulting light, wanting to melt back into slumber, but memories from last night had already started to trickle in. How I’d ran down that corridor, trying my best to keep the tears in before I found the ladies bathroom. When I finally locked myself in a stall, the tears had come instantly and violently. I was so tired of hurting, I just wanted an escape. But Oli had…

I shot up in bed – a grave mistake considering my current state – and gripped my head with both hands as if trying to prevent my brain from falling out.

Oli was here last night. In my room.I looked around carefully through squinting eyes.

Nevermind.

This was not my room.

I quickly patted myself down to see if I was naked, but to my bewilderment I was still fully dressed in last night's attire. Before I got a chance to panic further about the situation, I heard the door open and shut, followed by Oli walking in holding some drinks. He didn’t even look in my direction as he walked over to shut the blinds before coming back around to wordlessly hand me a ginger ale. He gestured for me to move so he could sit at the end of the bed, so I scrambled to pull my legs up. It wasn’t until he was sitting that he allowed himself to look at me. His gaze was cold, unbothered, and his voice matched it, “Do you agree now that we shouldn’t keep doing this?”

I couldn’t think straight, clearly not sober yet from last night's escapades of vodka based drink selection. After a moment of just staring blankly at him, he looked down at the bottle in my hand and sighed deeply, “Drink up, it’ll help.”

I stared at the bottle, it was sweating on the duvet.

“Give it here, I’ll open it for you.” His voice was much softer now, clearly taking pity on my state. When he leaned over to take it off me our hands brushed, ever so slightly, but it was enough to make me feel a mix of the emotions from last night when he had laced our fingers together. Just much duller.

The opened bottle was handed back to me and I downed half of its content in one go, not realising how thirsty I had been. Some of it ran down the side of my face, eliciting a chuckle from Oli, but he abruptly stopped himself, like he had realised his steely guard was faltering.

‘Do you agree now that we shouldn’t keep doing this?’

My brain was slowly catching up on the conversation, trying to process his question.

The problem was that, despite last night, I really didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to stop sneaking my indulgent glances at him, didn’t want to stop thinking about him at night, and I absolutely didn’t want to stop being manhandled by him. Not only was he an effective distraction throughout the day, but I wanted to feel that freedom again, something only he had managed to do for me. He had made me feel so incredibly alive.

Except last night, when he made me wish I was dead.

It was as if he had been a mirror, forcing me to look at the despair inside myself. The mangled mess left there to rot after having my path in life torn away, and my personality ripped to shreds. I didn’t have a clue who I really was, what I enjoyed, or what I wanted out of life. Just aimlessly taking it one day at a time.

I had gone to the bar last night to forget what I had seen in his eyes, but as I sat there attempting to drown my sorrow, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was as broken as me. I knew he had drug problems in the past, and I knew he had been cheated on. How much of that was still unresolved; how much did he still carry with him? Last night my curiosity had been out of sympathy, but today it was laced with anger. As if it was somehow his fault I'd been forced to feel these things, like he had made me look there.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t sobered up yet, or just stupidity, but I decided that I didn’t want to answer his question about us. Instead I wanted to return the favour and make him look at his own suffering.

I cleared my throat, yet the words came horse, “Tell me about her.”

Instantly I regretted asking. It felt so cruel, so callous.

“She was a cunt.” He proclaimed without a thought, spoken as casually as you’d talk about the weather, “That’s all anyone needs to know about her really.”

I blinked. Annoyed he hadn’t reacted the way I expected. Annoyed he hadn’t actually shared anything at all.

Alright let’s be cruel then.

“Who did she cheat with?”

“Old friend.” Hints of tension in his voice now.

“How did you find out?”

There was a slight pause this time, annoyance clearly setting in. “Why are you asking, Alice?”

“Did you start doing drugs again after you found out?”

His expression changed to anger and disbelief as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Why the fuck do you-” He started, but stopped himself to stare off in the distance for a short moment. When he continued he was completely calm, looking straight at me, “Yeah, I did.”

The thing in me that wanted to torment him unceremoniously deflated, and I could feel my expression soften.

He sucked his teeth before he continued, “I got out of that pit though, like I have many times in the past.”

There was something I had been wondering about since the first night he grabbed me, and I can only guess the alcohol still in my system let my intrusive thoughts win, because suddenly the question had slipped out of my mouth, “The night we had sex, is that what you were talking about when you said you wanted to throw everything away?”

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, “I mean yeah, I thought that had been obvious. My history with ketamine isn’t exactly a secret, I’ve talked about it plenty. Didn’t you google us before the tour?”

“I did, but I thought you hadn’t touched drugs in years.” I said, hoping he’d confirm or deny it.

Still clearly uncomfortable, he responded, “I’ve been off the stuff since after the breakup, so about a year. That was the only relapse in a long time though.”

Crap, I could feel another question coming, “So… why had you almost relapsed the night we had sex?” I felt guilty for asking, knowing I shouldn’t probe; knowing I had gone too far about five questions ago.

That caused him to immediately push off the bed, “You know what Alice, maybe it’s time to get you back to your room.”

A fair reaction – and I agreed – but when I shifted to get out of bed everything was spinning from having moved too fast, and I could feel myself falling forward. Oli was there in a heartbeat and pushed me back into a sitting position over the side of the bed, the sudden motion threatening to make me hurl.

Annoyance emanated from him, “Bloody hell, you’ve got to stop doing that.” He said, crouching down next to the bed, still holding me up by the shoulders. His face was too close to mine, his scent surrounding me. The way he smelled was triggering something in me, something I didn’t quite understand, like so many other things I couldn’t figure out – or wanted to think about. Then suddenly I became aware that I probably looked insane, and possibly smelled even worse.

‘Maybe it’s time to get you back to your room.’ his words rang in my ears as I fought off the nausea. I turned my head slightly out of embarrassment before I spoke, “Why am I in your room anyway?”

“Cause someone decided getting shitfaced on tour was a good idea.”

While his words may have been passive aggressive, his tone was sweet. A pang of regret hit me. This wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to hurt him. I wasn’t the only one in pain, and I felt so incredibly selfish for all of it. For the probing, for wanting to continue being used when he had specifically told me it wasn’t who he wanted to be.

For running away last night when it had gotten hard.

My own words now ringing in my head; I don’t just give up when things get a bit complicated.

How ironic.

I spoke softly out of shame, “I-I'm sorry Oli. I just didn’t want to feel like this anymore.”

A frown grew on his face, ”Nothing to worry about, I mean sure you’re being a bit of a bitch, aren’t you? But you're not in some type of trouble, I won’t tell Liam how drunk you got if that’s what you're thinking.”

I didn’t want to cry, but I could feel my eyes starting to burn as I spoke, “No, it’s not that… I'm sorry for running away last night.”

He was clearly caught off guard, sadness – hurt even – painted across his features. Slowly he released the grip on my shoulders, testing to see if I could remain upright. When he was happy I wouldn’t collapse, he leaned back, still crouching before me as I continued,

“It was just too much, I felt so- didn’t know how to, or even begin to-” My vision was blurred with tears as I heard the frantic nonsense escape my mouth.

What was I doing?

His hands were back on me, on my arms this time, “Hey, sh-sh-sh, Alice, it’s alright, there’s no need for that.” But my tears turned to uncontrollable sobs.

“Ah, fuck.” He muttered as he pulled me down into his lap to sit on the floor, my legs wrapped around him, and his arms around me. I had wanted to wait till I was alone to cry again, but I was too drained – too overwhelmed, so I let myself be held as I cried into his hair.

It wasn’t until he held me tighter that I realised he was crying too.

A long time passed, and every time I thought I was done I started back up again. A dam had burst inside me and so many feelings were melting into tears, pouring out of me as I held onto Oli like a lifeline. I cried over the maddening numbness of wasting my life in mundane hell, I cried for the years worth of isolation, I cried over the frustration of last night not going the way I needed it to, I cried over the disgust I felt with myself for having let any of this happen in the first place. And then I cried for all the pain and confusion inside me I couldn’t put into words.

His tears came to an end before mine, so he lazily caressed my back as I wept. When the floodgates finally closed we were left just sitting there, embracing each other in silence. The thought of pulling away to face him after this was nerve wracking, but I knew it had to happen.

So I wiped at my mess of a face with my sleeve, then took several deep breaths to gather myself before leaning back against the bed behind me.

Oli’s eyes were red and slightly puffy, and he spoke without skipping a beat, as if he had been waiting for me, “I thought she was my soulmate.” A sombre smile tugged at his lips, “I know it sounds daft but I really did believe that.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t think it sounded daft, but I was stunned, not expecting such personal details.

He huffed out a bitter laugh, “Problem is, once you really believe in something eternal like that, but it turns out to be some cosmic prank – what do you do with that? Everything in life lost its purpose, there was no point to anything anymore.” Looking down, shaking his head, he continued, “If I could have been that sure about something, knowing it to be as real as anything else on this planet, how was I supposed to trust my gut again?”

I didn’t have any answers for him, but I knew he wasn’t expecting any. Instead I decided to answer his question from earlier.

“I don’t want to stop what we’re doing.”

He looked up at me through his hair, “Even after what happened last night?”

There was a slight internal battle, but I was so worn down, and I knew it was my turn to share. I looked away before I spoke, “My breakup wasn’t the same as yours. I wasn’t blindsided, I think I knew for a long time that he’d been cheating on me, and I knew he wasn’t my soulmate.. He was barely a friend.” I could only describe it as an outer body experience to hear these things come from my mouth; things I didn’t even like to think about.

When I looked back at him, his head was tilted to the side in bewilderment, “Then why are you hurting so much?”

I sighed deeply, “Because for the past eleven years I had let myself become a version of myself I thought was expected of me, and now I am nothing at all because of it. Just empty, with no interests or passions.”

He shook his head again, “That explains the hurt, but the rest isn’t true, is it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely curious.

There was a pause as he scanned my face, contemplating, “From my experience, people who say they feel empty are usually the ones bursting at the seams with something. Maybe something they’re ashamed of or just repressed for whatever reason.” He leaned in a bit closer, that playful smile looking back at me, “Honestly love, you seem pretty passionate to me. Why else would you choose to be choked by a rockstar with drug problems, instead of just getting a new hobby or something – a bit extreme innit?”

Heat crept up my cheeks, and I could feel a smile play on my lips.

I couldn't tell if what he said carried any truth for me personally or not. Sure, it sounded plausible enough, but how would I know? There was such a mess inside me I didn’t know where to begin to untangle it. But a little bit of hope fluttered in my chest, like maybe I wasn’t a completely lost cause after all.

I heard the faint ding of the elevator from the hotel corridor, and I was abruptly reminded that the road trip portion of the tour starts today, and I was expected to prep the tour bus with Liam as soon as it arrives around noon.

I straightened with a jolt, eyes widening, “What time is it!?”

My jolt had clearly jarred him, “I haven’t a clue, around one maybe?”

I started to push myself off him, feeling panicked, but stopped myself when I remembered what happened last time I tried to move too quickly, “Can you help me up? I need to get ready for work.” I asked, looking sheepish.

“Sure”, he helped me up slowly and I made my way to the door, but there was one last question still rattling inside my head, clawing to get out. “Hey Oli,” I looked back at him standing next to the bed.

“Yeah?”

I knew this was a bad idea, but it had left my lips before I had a chance to think it through, “Do you want to keep doing this?” I swallowed, “As in, doing things to me.”

He shifted awkwardly, eyes falling to the floor. Disappointment washed over me at his reaction to the loaded question.

The tone of his voice shifted into something much more intense, “More than you know, Alice. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

The disappointment melted away, quickly replaced by the fighting spirit in me that still wasn’t willing to let the one thing I was passionate about slip away. “Because you can’t trust your gut?”

He grinned at my question, but it died on his lips as he spoke, “Because I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons.”

His words sprouted so many follow-up questions; so many arguments. Realising this could turn into a lengthy conversation – and I was very much out of time – I decided to cut things short with a simple few words that would hopefully work in my favour.

I pushed the door handle down, “I’ll be skipping the underwear from now on.” When I opened the door – a clear indication that the conversation was over – his eyes darkened, violence behind his stare.

I couldn’t help but smile as I left.

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Chapter 6 - That’s all the time we have this week

Chapter title is lyrics from "MANTRA"

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The world was testing me, clearly trying to see where my breaking point was.

About two hours had passed since I left Oli in his hotel room, and I hadn’t sat down since. On a normal day that would have been fine, but considering I was just now starting to sober up, combined with Liam having me work at double speed due to being late again, it was unusually brutal.

A few times I had to lean against the bus for a moment to catch my breath after dragging luggage, various drinks, snacks, bedding, equipment, and whatever random things the band had decided to bring onto the vehicle. It wasn’t made better by the fact that this was a double decker, meaning many of the heavier items needed to be carried up the cramped bus stairs; where the sleeping bunks were located. The lower tier was mostly seating, with some tables, a small sink, and a toilet in the back next to the stairs.

When we were finally done setting everything up and making the beds, we collapsed on the larger sofa in the seating area. Liam sighed deeply and looked at his watch, “Alright, we did it. We even have some time to spare. Fucking miraculous.”

I raised my arms in celebration, but immediately dropped them again, entirely too tired to keep them there.

We had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while when I let myself sink into the sofa further, closing my eyes, in heaven from being off my feet. That’s when Liam, out of nowhere, decided to ask, “Did you have sex with Oli last night?”

My eyes shot open to stare up at him in shock. He never asked me any personal questions, and I had thought our conversation on the plane was a one time deal of getting personal. He smiled when I didn’t answer, “You did, didn’t you?”

I sat up straight and positioned myself to face him, “Actually, no. We didn’t do much.”

His expression turned to confusion, “But you spent the night with him?”

I scratched my head, not knowing how to explain the bizarre series of events; not knowing if I even wanted to share them with Liam, “I-I guess? It’s a bit… complicated.”

He shot me a teasing smile, “Do you like him?”

I blushed, not knowing how to answer that question either.

“Sorry love, I don’t mean to interrogate you. I just couldn’t help but notice you weren't in your hotel room this morning when I went to wake you up.”

Guilt hit me for having been late so much at this point, “I’m really sorry about that, I swear I’ll get better at-”

Clearly uninterested in my apology, he cut me off, ”So I may not have been completely honest with you when I said I didn't know anything about Oli’s intentions.” He said, looking guilty himself, “It might mean nothing at all, but I have seen him looking at you Alice, and I don’t just mean in that lusty way you stare at him all the time.”

My blush deepened, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. I didn’t realise I had been that obvious.

He held his hands up, “Like I said, it might be nothing. But he’s positively beaming when he looks at you sometimes. And while you do with that information as you wish, can I ask you a favour?”

I felt dumbfounded but curious, “Of course, what?”

“I can’t help but notice you haven’t looked at him that same way. So if you’re gonna break the poor man's heart, please do it gently, yeah? He’s clearly been through hell and back.”

In all honesty I didn’t know how I felt about Oli, I was entirely too wrapped up in how he made me feel. But besides our conversation this morning, we barely knew each other. How could he possibly feel anything for me? Surely Liam had misinterpreted the situation, right?

Right?

My mind wasn’t allowed to process Liams questions any further before we could hear the band members outside, and suddenly Lee burst through the door, taking long strides to get upstairs. Mat was right on his heels and disappeared up the steps behind Lee.

“Good morning to you too, lads!” Liam yelled up to them.

Earlier Liam had explained that Lee and Mat would always fight over the best bunk, having apparently resulted in a handful of injuries in the past.

I heard more footsteps outside, and out of habit I fixed my hair in anticipation of seeing Oli, making Liam chuckle next to me. I glared at him but he just gave me a knowing smile, so I gave him a well-deserved jab with my elbow.

Matt was next (again, not to be confused with Mat), he strolled in casually while hugging a pillow, shaking his head, “Will they ever stop doing that? Who cares what bunk you get, they’re all the same when you’re in them.”

You could hear Mat and Lee arguing faintly upstairs, then the bus was shaking slightly from their brawl, mixed in with some yelping noises every so often.

Then Oli stepped onto the bus while responding to Matt, “I vote we let them fight it out, personally. They’re like toddlers, let them get some energy out so we can have a nice trip.”

Then everyone took their seats, and to my surprise I watched as Oli took the chair right across from me, on the other side of the walkway. He let his eyes roam my body for a moment – never actually meeting my eyes – before looking away.

Liam inclined his head towards Matt’s pillow in confusion, “You know we brought pillows, right?”

“Yeah but last night I slept better than I’ve done in years, I couldn’t just leave this puppy behind.” He said, slapping his pillow, looking down at it as if it was his most precious possession.

Oli laughed, “You stole the pillow, mate? I thought those days were behind us.”

Matt’s face lit up, “Remember when we walked out carrying a whole mattress? I still can’t believe they didn’t even try to stop us.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures as they say,” Oli looked over to Liam to explain further, “We didn’t have enough bunks on the cheap tour bus we could afford back then, you see. So we got creative.” He said, tapping his finger to his temple.

The conversation went on but I couldn’t focus on what was being said, getting too distracted looking at Oli.

He was wearing the same plain black t-shirt from earlier with some grey shorts. I hadn’t taken much note of his appearance at the time due to my state, and how emotional everything had gotten. While all of us were dressed in more casual attire than usual – both because this was the beginning of the road trip, but also because Vegas was quite warm compared to what we were used to in the UK this time of the year – it was such a stark contrast from what Oli usually wore. Seeing him this dressed down, without any of his usual loud accessories, prints or colours, really accentuated him. Elaborate inkwork cascading down every limb, up his neck, around his face. All of which made so much sense with his usual attire, everything coming together as one cohesive design. Now it threatened to look out of place next to the plain clothes, with his gentle eyes, boyish smile, and messy hair.

Somehow both of these versions worked entirely too well. And I found myself wondering if there was anything this man couldn't pull off. I also found myself wondering what some of the designs on his thighs looked like higher up. As my mind tried to imagine it, I realised that while I had felt his dick inside me, I hadn’t actually seen it.

I must have unknowingly let my eyes rest on his crotch area for a long time while I was daydreaming, because out of nowhere Oli shot me a piercing glance without turning his head, making me straighten on the sofa, tucking my hair behind my ear awkwardly.

“Shall we get going then?” Liam asked, saving me from further embarrassment.

This was also the day I learned that Liam used to be a bus driver when he was younger, which was apparently a big reason the touring agency had wanted him.

Hours passed on the long journey and I had managed to keep my thoughts in check for the most of it. The daylight had faded into darkness when Liam pulled into a Walmart car park for a short break.

“Alright lads, you have around 30 minutes before the store shuts. Go, go, go!” He proclaimed after parking up, hurrying himself to get off the bus. Everyone scurried to get out to grab the variety of things they had been planning during the past hours.

Everyone except Oli, who was looking right at me. His arms were crossed, one of his legs propped up on the other.

We sat in silence until no one could be heard in the distance.

When all we could hear from the calm night was distant cars, he spoke, “Are you wearing any underwear?”

I swallowed, feeling increasingly nervous, “No.”

His arms relaxed onto the armrests, and his eyes darkened – along with his voice, “Show me.”

Not a question; a command.

I could feel the heat spread throughout my body, continuing up my cheeks. I was wearing a simple black mini skirt and an oversized tour shirt. With a nervous exhale, knowing someone could come back at any moment – knowing the bus door is still open, I decided to obey his command. My heartbeat fell to my core as I leaned back and spread my legs, raising them up to let my feet rest next to me on the sofa, giving him a clear view of my more-than-likely soaking pussy from having been wrapped up in dirty thoughts about him all day.

His propped leg dropped to the floor with a deep sigh, and he let his hand play on his chin. The carnal gaze shifted between awe and something barely contained, as he let himself leisurely take in the sight of me.

That’s when I noticed his bulge shifting – growing, causing my breath to hitch.

The noise got his attention, and his expression turned intense and his serious eyes shot to mine, “Touch yourself.”

Another command.

I wordlessly reached between my legs to do as I was told. I was in fact soaking, and the wetness made a noise that caused the now clear outline in his shorts – pulling slightly to the right might I add – to twinge in response.

His lips parted slightly, letting his fingers brush them as he appeared almost intoxicated.

I was pushing at my entrance to elicit more wet noises, so I could see that delightful twinge again when he spoke, “No, play with your clit, love.” His eyes transfixed on my pussy now.

Stopping my motion, I went back up to my clit, rubbing it slowly in small circles. After a moment a whimper spilled from my mouth as it started to feel particularly good. That wicked smile bloomed on his lips, his eyes still not leaving my pussy, “That’s it, a bit faster now.”

Once again I obeyed. My breath came heavier, and adrenaline was hitting me as I realised I would cum if I kept going like this long enough, causing my eyes to dart towards the bus door nervously.

He caught me looking and abruptly leaned forward, shooting me daggers as he let his arms rest on his legs, “Look at me.” He said. Demanding words, sharp with anger.

My wide eyes met his, “Don’t worry about that,” he said, gesturing towards the open door, “Just keep looking at me.”

A breathy “Okay.” left me, as I continued to build my orgasm, followed by another small whimper.

With a tilted head, his dark eyes roamed my face, and I watched as that corrupt smile continuously tugged at his lips. “I’ve thought about what you look like when you touch yourself so many times now, I had to see it for myself.” His gaze darted to my pussy before returning to look at me. He continued speaking, tone growing increasingly intense, “You’re fucking stunning.”

Small breathy moans start spilling from my open mouth, causing Oli’s own breathing to grow heavier as he pressed on, sounding nearly demonic now, “You’re a fucking whore for doing this, you know that right?”

His words just encouraged me, setting something in me ablaze – getting me closer to my goal.

He huffed out a breathy laugh, looking like he’s about to snap; like he’s also close to going over some kind of edge. He carried on in the same dangerous voice, “I want to push you to your fucking limit, Alice. I want to see your makeup run down your pretty little face as I make you choke on my cock, testing how long you can hold your breath for me.”

I was shaking, feeling my orgasm building, and building.

He let out a ragged breath, “You close, love?”

I nodded through my whimpers.

He shot out of his chair and was suddenly over me, one of his hands slipping behind my neck, gripping my nape firmly to keep me looking at him, our breaths mingling with his face hovering mere inches from mine. His other hand disappeared between my legs, his middle and ring fingers slipping into me, going straight for the g spot.

My whole body went electric.

“Cum for me.” He demanded with a softness the other commands had lacked.

I went over the edge, my free hand grabbing his arm as my eyes rolled back. Through the sounds spilling out of me I could hear him murmur words of encouragement, “That’s it love, that’s it… Fuck.”

As I came back down his eyes were on fire, appearing drunk with lust. “You’re such a good whore.” He whispered, a devil's smile growing on his lips as his fingers started moving in me again. “Keep going, Alice. Cum for me again.”

My hand started moving again, but as soon as it did we heard distant chatter.

Oli leaned back, head snapping towards the open door, then back at me with violence behind his eyes – clearly frustrated to have his playtime cut short.

He pulled his fingers out of me and fell back into his chair, propping his leg back up on his knee to conceal his otherwise very obvious erection.

As I hurried to pull my skirt down to cover myself up, I looked up to meet his fiery gaze staring back at me, his fingers in his mouth – the same two fingers I just came on – sucking them dry as his chest rose and fell with his still laboured breathing.

I felt panic grow inside me, knowing I wouldn’t be able to appear normal; knowing I was too far gone, I got up and ran to the toilet, locking myself in there before anyone could see me.

My reflection in the mirror confirmed my fear. My hair was a mess, my face was flushed, and my eyes appeared as glazed with lust as Oli’s had.

There was no doubt in my mind that if we kept going like this it was only a matter of time before everyone found out about us.

…Only a matter of time before I found out if Oli actually had feelings for me or not.

Before I had to figure out how I felt about him.

I swallowed, spiralling further into panic.

What the hell was I doing?

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Chapter 7 - My heart’s a hieroglyph, it talks in tongues

Chapter title is lyrics from "Run”

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Get yourself together Alice.

But the woman staring back at me in the stupid little mirror just continued looking panicked and flustered.

I should be happy. I should be over the moon. When I left Oli in his hotel room this morning, informing him I wouldn’t be wearing any underwear going forward, my hope was that he’d eventually give in to temptation. Not realising he’d pounce the very second he could. Regardless of the risk.

How could I have known it would be that effective?

Sure, maybe I should have been able to put two and two together after he proceeded to throw me over his shoulder and manhandle me, just one day after very adamantly arguing what a bad idea more sex would be.

‘Because I’m not sure it’s for the right reasons.’ His words echoed in my mind. And while I didn’t want to agree with him – while I didn’t want to even entertain the idea – I had to admit the same thoughts had occurred to me once or twice as well, but I’d swatted them away like flies at a picnic.

Frustration was building. What if Liam was right? What if Oli was interested in me, and what if he eventually wanted something more? A big part of me thought it was absurd, he barely knows me. But I still couldn’t help but toss the idea around, examining it from every angle. It would explain why our time together in the storage room turned so incredibly intimate out of nowhere – and why would he bring me back to his room when I was blackout drunk, just to take care of me?

No, that was a ridiculous thought to have. Any decent human being would take care of someone in need, and the intimate moment could happen to anyone – it doesn’t mean anything.

I could see the panic grow on my features.

While it probably meant nothing, I knew that if there was even a sliver of a chance Liam was right, I had to figure out what the hell I was doing here as soon as possible.

Despite this being a truly horrible time to do this, I couldn’t resist touching on those painful thoughts I’d been ignoring the past couple of days, knowing that if I didn’t take advantage of my current panicked state, I’d never want to revisit them again.

I leaned forwards, placing my hands on the sink in the small tour bus toilet, and gave myself the steeliest stare I could muster up.

Why – The Fuck – do you like to be used, choked, and called a whore?

While I tried to answer my own question, images of Oli’s delightful expressions when he did these things to me flooded my mind, making my knees weak, and my stern face melted into a flustered smile. It didn’t help that I just had an orgasm, and wouldn’t mind a couple more.

Out of pure stubbornness, I slapped myself and decided to fight through it.

Alice – you horny piece of shit – why do you like it so much?

What does it actually make me feel, what do I get out of it? Is it the loss of control, the freedom? Sure, but while that explains part of it, I knew there was a lot more to it.

I felt shame flood me, fighting me, making me want to stop going down this path.

Was Oli right, was it some type of self harm? There was a part of that thought that scared me, but I couldn’t help but feel like the shoe didn’t quite fit.

I shook my head, knowing I was getting nowhere. I was ready to move on to the next question when I noticed the bite mark on my neck slightly poking through my concealer, further reminding me that it was only a matter of time before everyone would find out about us at this rate, further spiralling me into panic.

Okay, seriously – focus. Do you like him?

I sighed deeply. How do I feel about Oliver Sykes besides finding him incredibly attractive? I know I like how passionate he is, not just sexually, but with all his projects. I know I like how funny and charming he can be. I know I like the way I feel when he’s around me, regardless of what's going on. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but he made me feel some type of way – the same way I felt when I could smell him.

Discomfort was starting to creep in as I realised it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to spend more time with him, maybe get to know him better. As if just the idea of it becoming something else, something more, struck fear in some tender part of me that just wanted to run away and hide.

I found myself hoping that Liam was wrong with his observation, because at least then I could keep enjoying my time with Oli without anyone getting their feelings hurt. If anyone else found out about us it wouldn’t be a big deal – lots of people casually hook up.

The woman looking back at me in the mirror looked sad and defeated, but all signs of panic and fluster had left her.

Knowing I wasn’t getting anywhere, I took one last deep breath and got myself ready to leave the bathroom.

Everyone was back when I stepped out, and Liam had just gotten back into the driver's seat, ready to keep going. I awkwardly sat back down across from Oli, who was on his phone, casually eating some oreos the guys had picked up, as if nothing had just happened between us.

Right as I picked up my own phone to distract myself, Oli looked up at me through his messy hair and shot me a warm smile before putting another oreo in his mouth. The warmth of it caused something in my chest to heat up in response, shocking me so severely I fumbled and sent my phone tumbling onto the floor next to his feet.

You could tell he stifled a laugh. With his mouth full of oreo, he bent over to collect my phone and hand it back to me. Thankfully no one else paid any mind to my awkwardness, as they were too busy having a heated argument about amp models. But I felt like a ridiculous school girl getting flustered by some pretty boy. It made so much more sense to me to get flustered by the man before we had sex. Now it came with some implication that I wasn’t ready for.

The rest of the trip was an exhausting mix of awkwardness and confusion, made worse when the conversation died down from everyone getting tired, leaving me to my thoughts more than I had liked. Leaving me and Oli to accidentally lock eyes more often than I was comfortable with, knowing it meant we both couldn’t keep each other out of our minds.

It was 3 am when Liam pulled up to the hotel we were staying the next two nights.

Everyone filtered out of the bus like zombies, carrying our bare essentials for the rest of the night. We were all on the same floor of the hotel, so when the elevator doors opened I headed straight for my room, forcing myself to not look back to see where Oli was.

I heard a bunch of doors open and close as I tried to get the card for my room to work. With every swipe I was internally praying it would unlock, and after every failed swipe I had to fight myself to look back to check if he was there.

With a click the door finally unlocked, but for some inexplicitly stupid reason I allowed myself to look back.

He was standing all the way down the corridor by his door. He swung it open and waved for me to come over before he stepped inside.

I froze.

Why did I have to look back? It could have been so simple. I could be having hours of uncomplicated sleep ahead of me, but now there was some unknown abyss waiting for me down the hall. Would we have amazing sex, or a conversation I wasn’t ready for? Spin the bloody wheel.

Knowing I couldn’t resist either way, I locked my door and headed towards the unknown on the other side of the corridor.

I shuffled past him awkwardly while he held the door open, then dropped my bag on the floor before sitting down on the end of the bed, not knowing what to expect next. He locked the door and came over to sit next to me.

He leaned forward, facing away from me as he spoke, “Listen love, I clearly can’t keep my hands to myself, and while I’m aware that is exactly what you want, I’m struggling with it a fair bit. I feel like I’m at your mercy here.” I could feel myself becoming claustrophobic as he continued, “I had every intention to have an actual conversation with you when we were alone on the bus, but that went out the window as soon as I saw the way you looked at me.”

I shifted awkwardly, wanting to run away.

“I know you barely know me Alice, but can I ask you something?” He tilted his head in my direction and searched my face, questioning, “Do you trust me?”

I was stunned, not knowing what I had expected, but that wasn’t it. It must have shown on my face as he looked surprised back at me. I opened my mouth, “What do you mean?”

It was his turn to shift awkwardly, his voice dipping a bit lower as he spoke, “When I choke you, do you trust I won’t just choke you out?”

I didn’t have to think about it, I could feel it in my gut, “Yes.”

He huffed out a small laugh before turning his body towards me, “And why is that exactly?”

I frowned, “I don’t know, but I don’t think you’d actually harm me.”

His head tilted to the side, bewilderment spreading across his features, “All I’ve told you is how I don’t feel like I can control myself around you, how I want to hurt you might I add, and you’re telling me you don’t think I’ll harm you? Are you stupid or something?”

I scoffed, “Maybe, but there’s never been anything wrong with my intuition. Like I said, I knew my ex was cheating, I knew my past life wasn’t for me. So if my gut is telling me I can trust you, I am pretty sure I can.”

He shook his head, “That is a pretty big leap of faith you’re taking there, innit?”

I paused, contemplating his words, “If I’ve learnt anything from the past 11 years, it’s that not taking any risk at all is probably the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.” I looked down at my hands in my lap, playing with the hem of my skirt anxiously as we sat in silence after my response. I knew he had a problem trusting his own intuition after what happened with his ex, so I couldn’t help but worry that my remark could’ve been interpreted as a jab, despite not intending it to.

I was about to clarify when he spoke, his tone had grown much more serious, and his words came slower, “When I choked you the other night in the arena, it didn’t look like you wanted me to stop. If there’s any truth to that, what exactly is it you’re looking for here?”

Of course he had noticed, is there anything this man doesn’t pick up on?

Shame was simmering somewhere under the surface, but something came bubbling up from beneath it, “I…” the words spilled out of me as I realised them, “I don’t want to die if that’s what you’re thinking – at least I don’t think I do. I’ve just been living my life in such lukewarm temperatures, too scared to experience anything to the fullest, never feeling something real. I just want to let go and have someone fly me closer to the sun, someone that won’t burn me. Someone I…”

Oli was watching me closely as I spoke my thoughts out loud, “Someone you trust.” He said, finishing my thought.

I swallowed, feeling myself sink deeper into panic.

As I sat there trying to fight the urge to burst out of the door, I was once again aware of the wonderful way he smelled, and suddenly it became crystal clear what it made me feel…

Safety.

He smelled like safety – just like his mere presence made me feel safe. How incredibly ironic, considering how terrified I currently was.

I could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he watched me, but it was too much. The revelation was too much, the moment was too much. So I shot out of bed, “I need to go.” I hurriedly exclaimed as I all-but-ran to the door.

But he had leapt in front of me, blocking the exit, “See that makes no sense to me, love.” Angry eyes stared down at me as he began stalking towards me, forcing me to take steps back in the direction of the bed, “You’re trying to convince me you trust me, but you keep running away scared. Explain that to me.”

“Like you said, we barely know each other.” I answered, my heart racing.

Another step, “Yet you’re so sure you trust me.” He said, his strong build towering over me, his hazel eyes shooting me daggers.

We took several more steps before my foot suddenly hit the bed behind me, causing my breath to hitch. “Yes. W-why does it matter to you anyway?” I retorted in a pathetic attempt to stand my ground, knowing my stutter had only made things worse.

In one quick motion Oli picked me up and threw me onto the bed, knocking the air out of me. Then his warm and hard body was on top of mine, intense eyes staring down at me, his hair brushing my face, “Trust doesn’t come easily for me.” His tone was dark – frustrated. ”You think I open up to people a lot? You think I sleep around? That’s not who I am, love.” His fingers brushed my forehead tenderly, an eerie action considering the situation, “Then you casually come along, basically telling me you trust me with your life. You’re so fucking confusing Alice, you want me to hurt you, you cry in my arms – open up to me – yet you keep wanting to run away. If you actually trust me, what the fuck are you so scared of?”

I wanted to tell him to let me go, I wanted to run away again – not out of fear of his actions, but fear of where the conversation was heading. But I also knew he deserved answers, despite the way he was going about getting them. So without thinking I spoke the first thought that came to mind, “I-I just got out of a relationship, I’m not ready for anything.”

The tender caress abruptly grabbed my chin in a painful grip, “You’re chattin’ shit, that relationship meant nothing to you. What are you actually scared of?” He bit out.

My heart was in my throat, shocked at his sudden increase in aggression, words I didn’t know to be true until I spoke them out loud came flying out of me, “I’m scared I’ll fall for you.”

The frustration left him instantly, his grip loosened and slipped away. He searched my face carefully before speaking much softer, sweet even, “Why does that scare you?”

I looked up at him, feeling as if I was losing some internal battle I hadn’t known I’d been fighting, “Because we might become more than… whatever this is.”

He squinted down at me, “Would that really be so bad?”

I nodded, scared to speak my next realisation out loud, knowing it threatened to make me cry again – and I had cried entirely too much lately.

Hurt spread across his face, “Why?”

My words came so softly, they were barely audible, “I… I’m terrified of having something worth losing.”

He rolled off of me and positioned himself next to me on the bed. We stared up at the ceiling for a short moment as my heart threatened to leap out of my chest, and I contemplated making a run for the door when he spoke, still staring at the ceiling, “Stay the night.”

Not a command this time, but a request.

He was done forcing me to stay, forcing me to share my thoughts, and was handing the choice back to me. I could give in and make a run for it – get away from the deep discomfort I was drowning in.

Or I could stay and fight through it.

But I really didn’t think I could fight through it, so I whispered, “I can’t.”

He turned his head towards me and spoke softly, pleading, “Yes you can.”

When I didn’t answer he sat up, “I’m gonna get ready for bed, when I get back I hope you’re still around.” He shot me one last pleading look before he disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on.

For a while I just laid there – frozen – both body and mind, before I sprung out of bed, grabbed my bag and headed straight for the exit. I stopped myself just a couple of feet short, realising this might have been an ultimatum. That if I left now this might be the end of it all, the end of all the delights and all the discomfort the same.

I let my bag drop to the floor again and watched the bathroom door, listening to the running water. I felt anger set in, like it wasn’t fair of him to expect anything from me, but it faded away as quickly as it came, knowing he had every right to walk away from this if it’s not what he wanted.

I started pacing the room, feeling the timer run out to make a choice. Do I risk leaving, in the hopes he’ll come around and want to continue anyway?

Or do I face my fears and stay?

I sat down on the bed, still unsure what to do. The sound of the shower felt deafening at this point, as if it grew louder with each passing moment I hadn’t made up my mind yet.

Every so often the water would splash differently, reminding me the culprit of my pressing issue was in there. The man that both made me feel safe, and struck so much fear in me I wanted to run for the hills. Someone who filled me to the brim with excitement, yet I was dreading his reappearance to an immeasurable degree.

The shower stopped, and my racing mind went into overdrive, raking over everything that’s happened the past three weeks, the last 11 years – right back to my childhood, as if I could find answers somewhere in there, going down useless paths that lead nowhere, when the bathroom door opened and my racing thoughts came to a shrieking halt.

Only in boxers, steam lapping him as he stepped into the room. He was drying his wet hair with a towel as he wordlessly walked over to the bed, watching me with a blank stare to see what I would do next. As if it was written all over me that I still hadn’t made up my mind.

I got off the bed to collect my bag before looking back at him, then with a deep breath I chose to walk through the bathroom door instead of the exit.

As soon as I shut the door behind me I felt myself go slightly numb, half disassociating from my decision. I chose to not acknowledge it and go about my business. I showered, I brushed my teeth, and I dressed myself in an oversized t-shirt, covering some sexy underwear. At least this way I felt ready for multiple outcomes, not knowing where this night was heading.

When I stepped out of the bathroom he was laying in bed, one arm propped behind his head, the other holding his phone, which he proceeded to put away when he saw me. Shyness washed over me suddenly, the setting feeling entirely too domestic, too familiar, yet I didn’t know how to behave in this setting with this man. Like he didn’t belong in familiarity.

He moved over and raised the cover to let me in – I followed, then he turned off the lights.

At first the darkness was smothering me, but then he reached for me, pulling me into his embrace, making me the small spoon, and something in me eased.

I tried not to overthink it. I tried not to make this a bigger deal than it was. It was just sleep after all, this doesn’t mean anything. Everyone needs sleep. Sometimes we sleep next to people we’re not dating, and that’s normal.

All perfectly normal things.

He must have noticed how tense I was, as he whispered into my hair, “You alright?”

I nearly laughed, feeling hysterical from all the recent events, from how exhausted I was, from the bizarre situation. Instead I said, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” Willing it to be true.

After a moment he spoke again, “I’m sorry if I wake you, I get nightmares.”

He must have been exhausted too, as shortly after he was clearly asleep, leaving me to watch as the sun slowly came up behind the curtains while he held me.

Thankfully slumber eventually took me as well.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 8 - The wolves are at my door

Chapter title is lyrics from "Empire”

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Trust.

The cornerstone of so many things in this world.

As children we trust our parents to do what is best for us, we vote for the political party we trust to achieve the best outcome, and every day we trust that the food we consume wont poison us.

That doesn’t mean our parents won’t traumatise the shit out of us, politicians don’t lie through their teeth, and we won't be puking our fucking brains out after eating the leftover pad thai.

Yet every daily decision – no matter how big or small – requires us to take a leap of faith in some regard.

For most people the majority of decisions are simple, right? The risk so meaningless we don’t even consider it. But to others, that same risk is a mountain. To these people trust is a rare and incredibly valuable commodity, not easily given or received.

The problem is, these people may wish to test you in ways you may not expect – in ways that might make you uncomfortable, vulnerable, or push you to some internal limit.

Sounds harsh? Maybe.

But if you’ve been burnt before, then maybe you too understand why this impulse creeps in like instinct, making it seem impossible to trust someone without testing them with precision.

Is this done with malicious intent? Absolutely not.

We just don’t know any other way.

***

I stared down into my drink, the air thick with the scent of perfume and alcohol.

The night's concert had gone just as expected, and so had all the preparations for it. I didn’t quite understand why me and Liam were invited to this party, since we weren’t actually working, but apparently Liam and whoever was assisting him at the time would always come along on these types of events.

That assistant just happened to be me right now.

Liam had been chatting my ear off all day about whose house we were going to after the concert, but all I could remember was that it’s some famous rapper I had never heard of. I wanted to listen to Liam so badly, but my mind had been too preoccupied obsessing over the fact that I’d spent last night with Oli – just sleeping in his arms. And instead of waking up with him like a sane person, to potentially have some amazing sex, I slipped out unnoticed before I had a chance to see how the morning could’ve unfolded.

The truth is that while I felt a lot of guilt for not staying, last night had been so mentally taxing I couldn’t risk the conversation continuing in the morning light.

Especially considering I hadn’t digested my brand new revelations about the man yet.

Sadly a whole day of pondering, while desperately avoiding the culprit, hadn’t done much else besides make me more confused.

Not made better by tonight's events.

We’d been here almost two hours, lazily nurturing our drinks on one of the many large sofas in the modern, open space mansion with a view. The party featured a large variety of famous people (or so I’ve been told) and what appeared to be models, graciously hosted by someone whose name begins with Lil – like so many rappers before him.

A handful of models had flocked to the band as soon as we walked through the door, despite clearly not knowing who they were. With one lady in particular that latched onto Oli like a leach as soon as she found out he was the lead singer.

I’d been both lucky and unfortunate enough to end up within earshot of them on the sofa as she was trying to get to know him. Their conversation was simultaneously hilarious and made me want to scream in frustration; a long series of shallow questions asked with a vocal fry, and Oli replying by deepening his already thick Yorkshire accent to the point that she didn’t stand a chance of understanding a single answer – made apparent by her poorly timed fake laughter in response.

It was infuriating, yet I couldn’t help but find him charming for messing with her.

Despite clearly being mismatched, they kept inching closer to each other as time passed. More smiles were exchanged, more whispers – and why the fuck did she have to touch him so much?

The long and short of it was; they were flirting. And apparently I didn’t like that one bit, as I couldn’t stop imagining ripping the extensions from her long, dark, Instagram-perfect hair.

Me and Liam were sitting across from them now, a large coffee table separating us. I could hear Liam drunkenly ramble on about his boyfriend back home, but I was hyper aware of what was happening across from us.

Oli was still in his concert clothes. Black trousers, a tight and colourful mesh shirt, with all the usual accessories. And she looked like she had spent a lot of money to look like she could be besties with Kim Kardashian. His hand was currently on her bare thigh, which she had placed there in order to roll up his sleeve and inspect his arm. I couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud music, but my best guess is that they were discussing his ink work.

I’d never considered myself a jealous person, but this was awakening some beast in me I didn’t like. It was some fresh flavour of torture I hadn’t really experienced before. Especially considering I didn’t even know what I wanted from Oli going forward.

What made it worse was that he hadn’t looked at me all night. I know this, as I could barely keep my eyes off him, to the point that I was worried the rest of the band had noticed. And yes, I’m aware that I was the one to sneak out this morning, just like I was the one who had been avoiding him all day. And still this was stinging in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

To make matters worse I couldn’t tell if it was some form of punishment, or if it was his way of making it clear we were done.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear – again – but this time that same wicked smile he usually shows me slowly grew on his lips as she spoke. It was enough for me to rudely and abruptly stand up in the middle of Liams rant to excuse myself.

“I need the bathroom.” I said in a rush before quickly turning around and striding off.

But I didn’t go to the bathroom, instead I made a beeline for the bar across the massive room to mix myself something significantly stronger.

As I was standing there, pouring entirely too much rum into my rum and coke, I felt a hand on my ass. I swung around in shock, only to be face to face with a tall, older man, possibly in his 50s, smiling down at me. The smile was so toothy I would’ve been creeped out even if he hadn’t used ‘grabbing my arse’ as a means of introduction. He must have been some investor or something, cause he didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the crowd.

“Hello beautiful, hope I didn’t scare you.” Somehow his smile grew more teeth as he spoke.

I was stuck behind the bar in a dark corner of the room with this gross man, plotting my escape, when Oli suddenly pushed past him.

“There you are, love. Thought I’d lost you there for a second.” He said as he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. A mixture of anger and relief hit me all at once from his gesture.

Oli shot the man a lazy smile, silently daring him to stick around.

It worked. The man wordlessly grabbed a bottle from the bar and stalked off to – more than likely – locate his next victim.

When he was gone I tried to slip out from under Oli’s arm, not in any mood to talk to him after seeing him flirt with someone else, but he grabbed me by the hips and turned me towards him, “Slow down, Alice. What’s the rush?”

I swatted his hands off of me, “Oh please, go back to your whore.” I bit out, regretting the words instantly, knowing it showed exactly how jealous I was.

He didn’t put his hands back on me, but he took a step closer, “You’re on about that vapid bird back there?” He shook his head, “Fuck off.” He took another step, stalking me similarly to what he did in the hotel last night. Except this time I only had to take one step backwards and I was pressed up against the bar behind me.

He leaned in a bit closer, still not touching me, so I’d hear him over the music as he spoke softer, “Besides, you’re my whore, Alice.” I looked up at him, he was entirely too pleased with himself. A devil's smile grew on his features as his eyes fell to my lips. The anger inside me was mixing with arousal despite my best efforts to stop it, and the implication of the word ‘my’ had not gone unnoticed, further spiralling my confusion as I had both hated and loved it.

“Then why are you flirting with her?” I asked, trying to keep my tone cool.

“I wasn’t, she was flirting with me. Why did you slip out this morning?”

“As if you didn’t love every moment of it.” I retorted, completely ignoring his question.

“Did I now?” He asked, words dripping with sarcasm, before continuing in a more serious tone, “Or did I enjoy watching you squirm?”

He took one last step to press himself up against me, his hand slipping to the small of my back.

“You’re a fucking prick, Oli.” I said, feeling utterly betrayed by my own body. I was furious, and while my words reflected that, my tone told a very different story, conveying exactly how horny I was becoming.

From his sudden change in demeanour, he could tell what he was doing to me. His eyes darkened before he grabbed me by the hips again to turn me around to face away from him, out towards the room. While they were far away, I could see Liam and the others through the crowd. Which meant that if they decided to look in our direction, they’d be able to see us as well.

I swallowed.

With a gentle gesture he swept the hair away from my shoulder to place his lips there, lazily kissing as his hands roamed my hips and waist. I gasped. His thick locks were tickling my face as his mouth moved along my neck, sending me into sensory overdrive.

“If you were gonna sneak out like that, why did you even bother spending the night?” He said between kisses.

Avoiding his question again, entirely out of spite, “Stop it, they might see us.” Such flustered words.

“You reckon?” He asked with more sarcasm.

I wanted to push away, stop what we were doing. I was angry, made worse by the fact that he was being this reckless with the others finding out about us – despite me having told him I wanted to keep it quiet. But his actions promised so much delight, and my body didn’t want to fight any of it.

“Why don’t you care if they see?” My tone was so painfully desperate, I couldn’t stand it.

His lips moved to my ear, “If we continue doing this, Alice, they’ll find out sooner or later anyway. It’s all the same to me.” He pulled away slightly and ran his fingers down the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, “I love these marks on you, it’s like you’re my canvas.” He said with words full of wonder.

Of course his kisses had rubbed off my concealer – the only thing besides my hair hiding his bite marks on me.

Then his teeth were on my shoulder, a bit lower than his previous marks, pushing down hard enough to make me clutch the edge of the bar as his fingers dug into my hips, holding me closer. He pulled away, his lips grazing my sore skin, “I just want to cover you, love.” He said in a low tone, barely audible over the music.

“Please, can we do this somewhere else?” So, so desperate. I hated myself. I shouldn’t be considering going anywhere with him. I should storm off and not let myself be treated like this. He was just cosying up with someone else for fuck sake – what the hell am I doing?

But my body was winning, it needed him.

I needed him.

“Do what?” He asked, clearly knowing what I was talking about – clearly not done playing with me here.

He began pulling the hem of my dress up. I ripped my vision away from guarding against the band members looking our way, and nervously darted my eyes around to see if anyone could see what he was doing behind the cover of the bar. Thankfully no one seemed to notice, or at least not pay us any attention.

“Oli, please…” My words continued in the same desperate tone, making it unclear whether I was begging him to continue, or stop.

The offending hand slipped under my dress and grazed my pussy ever so slightly, threatening to make my knees buckle.

But suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, pulled away and turned me back around in one jarring motion. A serious stare looking down at me, “You’re wearing underwear.”

He proceeded to stare at me as I tried to collect myself from the abrupt interruption. When I didn’t answer he continued, “Why?”

I had contemplated not wearing any tonight, but considering I planned to avoid him until I had dealt with my internal confusion, it had seemed pointless.

I shook myself, the break from the intoxicating touches sobering me up and I began feeling the anger in full force again.

“You’re gonna question why I’m wearing underwear? Seriously fuck you, Oli. Why are you trying to make me jealous? I stayed the night didn’t I? Just cause I wasn’t there when you woke up shouldn’t undo that, or justify whatever the hell it is you’re doing tonight. What’s your fucking problem?”

He clearly wasn’t expecting my sudden outburst, and neither had the people around us as some of them were now looking in our direction.

Several emotions flickered across his face before he stepped to the side and leaned on the bar next to me, waiting for the people around us to forget about us before he spoke, “You’re not the only one who’s scared, Alice.”

The anger was still simmering under the surface, but was dulled from his honest answer.

He looked down before looking back at me with a sly smile, “In my defence, you’re fucking hot when you’re jealous.”

My frown deepened as the anger threatened to boil over again.

Nope, I was done.

I started to walk away but he grabbed me by the wrist to yank me back in front of him. “Wait, Alice. Fuck… Alright, I’m sorry.” He said, vulnerable eyes meeting mine.

The grip on my wrist loosened, testing if I would leave if he let go.

I just glared at him wordlessly, contemplating what to do next. Meanwhile somewhere in the back of my mind I was hoping he’d convince me to stay.

When I didn’t walk away he took my hands in his instead.

I let him.

“You should’ve stuck around this morning. We could’ve had a nice time, you know.” A sad yet playful smile tugging on his lips, his thumbs mindlessly brushed my fingers.

Despite having been a dipshit, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, causing something inside me to relax. Whatever anger melted away was replaced by guilt for not having stayed this morning. While I didn’t know how much it meant to him, I knew it had meant something. It was the only way I could even begin to explain his behaviour tonight.

In an attempt to set things right for now – partially because of the alcohol in my system – I interlaced our fingers. He looked down at what I was doing, and when his eyes came back to meet mine they were softer, less sadness resting behind them.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Oli.” Honest words, I was clueless. I had no idea what I wanted, and I needed time to figure it out.

He laughed, “I’ve got no clue what I’m doing either, love.”

We stood like that for a moment before he looked behind him at the band members across the room, then back at me, “How about we go find somewhere they can’t see us?” He said, then pulled me in closer to speak against my ear, “Let me fly you closer to the sun.”

Excitement spread through me as he echoed my words from last night.

He pulled away to search my face for answers.

I knew I couldn’t resist. It didn’t matter what I felt, I was tipsy, exhausted and I knew what he was offering would replenish something in me that felt depleted.

A smile grew on my features, “Okay. Let’s go.”

He smiled back at me, eyes gleaming with mischief, “Before we go, can you do me a favour?”

“What?” I asked, feeling a bit apprehensive.

His expression darkened, “Take off your underwear.”

I shifted nervously, “...Here?”

He lazily leaned back against the bar, looking at me through heavy-lidded eyes, waiting for me to fulfil his request. My heart began to race, and the smile was tugging on his lips again as I was assessing the surroundings, anxiously looking around to see if anyone would notice.

No one was looking at us anymore as far as I could tell.

With equal parts excitement and anxiety, I decided to go with it, trusting that he would fulfil his end of the bargain.

I took a deep breath and began to shimmy out of my underwear as inconspicuously as I possibly could, knowing that if anyone were to look they’d still know exactly what I was doing. Especially once they slid down to my ankles, and I had to bend over to retrieve them.

His eyes appeared glazed over as he held out his hand, expecting me to hand them over. I balled up the black lace in my hands to make it less obvious what I was handing him, and placed them in his open palm. They quickly disappeared into his pocket, then he immediately took my hand to sweep me away through the crowd.

He guided me up some stairs and we sprinted down a long hallway before he began opening doors to find a room he was satisfied with. “Perfect.” He said under his breath as he led us into one of them and shut the door behind us.

It was a fairly simple room considering the size of the mansion. A queen sized bed facing large glass doors, leading out to a small glass framed balcony looking out over an empty garden.

It must be a guest room.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights as all the lanterns from the garden below lit the room fairly well.

He pulled me up to the glass doors and pressed me up against them. The glass was icey against my back, but was quickly forgotten when his hand slipped to my nape, angling me for a deep kiss. The confusing sense of safety washed over me when I was flooded with his scent, easing something in me, despite knowing he intended to take me somewhere dangerous tonight. His other hand guided mine to the hardness straining awkwardly against the stiff fabric of his trousers, forcing me to grab it. His lips left mine with an exhale, staring down at me through messy hair with wet parted lips, panting. “It’s fucking gagging for it. I haven’t cum since I came in you – and it doesn’t help when you keep running away.” As he spoke the last words he made me squeeze it, and I felt it tense through the fabric – my breath hitched in response.

“It was torture not fucking you last night, but I thought it’d be worth it with everything I had planned to do to you this morning.” His voice deepened, laced with frustration and sarcasm, “But you weren’t there this morning, were you?”

Regret sank in, and I was about to open my mouth to explain myself, when the hand holding my nape was suddenly at my throat, pressing me up against the glass so hard I couldn’t breathe. His gaze turned vicious as he held me there, “You’re not running away tonight.”

Adrenaline filled my veins. I tried not to be scared but I hadn’t quite seen that look in his eyes prior. Or at least not to this degree.

Letting go of the hand holding me to his cock, he slipped between my legs instead. He didn’t bother feeling me or taking his time, instead his fingers pushed into me without warning, causing my knees to go weak, forcing me to grab at his arms. His vicious gaze melted and glazed over, staring into my eyes as he played with me, still not letting me breathe.

Then something in me shifted as he watched me, the rush of having my safety in someone else's hands, flooding me with some inexplicably unmatched sense of fulfilment. Suddenly everything felt right with the world, like this was somehow the one thing I had been missing. Sadly the rush didn’t last long enough, as I was becoming more and more desperate for air – something he hadn’t really let me experience before. He studied me closely, testing how long he could keep me suspended like this. My nails began to sink into his arms to let him know it was enough. Too much.

His eyes glazed further, letting his fingers travel deeper into me, grinding his hips against my thigh, “Bit more, love. You can do it.” His words were barely a whisper over the distant bass line from downstairs.

Another rush hit me, a mix of panic and ecstasy that threatened to scramble my brain. I only felt it for a split second before he let go in one quick violent motion. I slumped onto him, coughing as he held me against his chest with the hand that had just choked me for too long.

After a moment or two of letting me catch my breath, he leaned me back against the glass. There were hints of worry in his eyes when they met mine.

“Too much?” He asked tenderly, shaking the hair out of his face.

I stared at him, and for some reason I didn’t want him to know it was too much, as if it would prove some point in his favour. “No.” I replied in a horse tone. Knowing it could be a mistake to push my luck like this.

He held my gaze a bit longer, not looking convinced, before he slipped his fingers out of me. I gasped at the sudden shift inside me.

“We’ll see about that.” He brought the glistening fingers up to my face, “Now open up.” He said, his gaze falling to my mouth.

As soon as I parted my lips the warm and slick fingers pushed into my mouth, causing his own lips to part in delight. Knowing what he wanted, I sucked on them eagerly for him.

“Such a good whore.” He murmured, before pulling his fingers out and pressing his mouth to mine, moaning into me with another deep kiss, his hand grabbing me, digging into me. He pulled away to lean himself against my forehead. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

One of his hands disappeared, and when he leaned back he was dangling my black lace underwear between his forefinger and middle finger, the mischief back in his eyes, “Open your mouth again for me.”

Realisation hit me, but I wasn’t going to deny him this, so I gingerly opened my mouth.

“Wider.” He bit out.

I snapped my mouth open, bringing the smile back to his lips. As he was taking his sweet time stuffing my own underwear into my mouth, I was struck by how surreal the moment was. I didn’t know whether I should be wondering if I had gone wrong somewhere, or if I should count my lucky stars to be experiencing this.

I don’t know if it was my aroused state or the alcohol, but the latter was winning by miles.

When he was happy with his work, he placed a knuckle under my chin and pushed up to close my mouth – leaving only a small piece of lace spilling out of my mouth, tickling my chin.

“No more underwear, yeah?” He said sweetly, nodding towards me – a clear indication that I should nod back, so I did.

He took a couple steps back and started unbuckling his belt. The shadow of my own silhouette shrouding his legs, the rest of him washed in a warm glow from the garden lights below us. He looked like a hungry animal prowling in the night, his eyes barely visible through the tufts of hair covering them, sparkling as the light hit them just right.

All his muscles moved beneath his tight shirt as he pulled the belt off in one smooth motion and folded it in half.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, knowing what was about to happen.

“On the bed.” He sounded serious, focused.

Steadying myself, I pushed off the glass and started crawling onto the bed. As soon as I got on all fours at the end of the bed, he grabbed me by the hips to stop me.

“Right there.” He murmured, before placing a hand on my head to push me down onto the bed. Leaving me face down, ass up, clutching the sheets, with my underwear dangling from my lips.

“Stay just like that.”

I felt so incredibly vulnerable and anxious, yet my pussy wouldn’t stop pulsing in anticipation. Every nerve in my body was on edge, not knowing when to expect the pain.

A hand appeared on the back of my thigh, the unexpected gentle touch making me flinch.

“You sit there, watching me with someone else – for hours.”

The hand followed my curves upwards, pushing my dress up, revealing the bare skin of my behind to him.

His voice darkened significantly, “I see you chat with a fucking twat for a split second and I want to set the whole world on fire.”

Despite knowing it would happen, the sudden loud whipping sound accompanied by the sharp searing pain was a complete shock. I shot up onto all fours with a muffled cry.

But as soon as I shot up, he immediately pushed me right back down – as if he had expected me to react the way I did.

He continued, “And you, love…” Such a sweet tone, before turning sinister, “How you stand me chattin’ with some other bird for that long, I haven’t a fucking clue.”

Another loud whip, on my other cheek this time. I fought the instinct to shoot back up, instead biting down hard on the fabric in my mouth, balling my fists into the sheets.

He made a pained noise behind me. I couldn’t tell if it was out of enjoyment, or if this was somehow torturing himself as well. Or maybe – much like for myself – a mixture of both.

An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me up against the warm body behind me. I made a muffled yelping noise and grabbed at his arm to steady myself. I could feel his heavy breaths on the bite mark he left on my shoulder downstairs. Then his hands were on me, his touches turning more tender, passionate. His fingers reached my pussy and he began touching me for my pleasure, instead of the previous punishment. I felt myself relaxing against him, reaching up and back to push my fingers into his hair, guiding his mouth to the bitemarks. He ground his hips into me with a moan as he placed his mouth over them. I whimpered through the fabric in my mouth in response, both in pain from the stinging sensation on multiple locations on my sore body, as well as in pleasure. The gentler touches had turned into a form of ecstasy as I was coming down from the intense pain, panic, and fear. I felt like I had unlocked another type of high – another addiction I wasn’t sure I wanted to be without anymore.

His kisses moved up my neck, leaving gentle bites as he went, both of us grabbing desperately for each other.

When he reached my ear he spoke harsh words, in an almost disturbingly soft tone, “What’s your fucking limit, Alice?” Causing me to tense up in anticipation all over again as the intimate touches ground to a halt.

He reached for the belt, looping it around my neck as if it was a slip lead. When it was loosely placed around my neck, he let go of it and pushed me forward, making me fall onto all fours again.

My heart was racing, the fear from not being able to breathe earlier returning, making me wonder if I should speak up before he would decide to pull on it. Yet the bass line from downstairs sounded more and more like the steady beat of war drums, resonating with something deep inside me that wanted nothing more than to travel deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole he had led us down.

I was staring down at the dark belt curling in on itself against the light sheets, feeling the fear melt into a deep hunger when I heard him unzip his trousers behind me, and excitement made a grin spread over my lace filled mouth.

I felt something warm push at my entrance, and it was all it took to set my whole body on fire. I wanted to feel him inside me again so badly I began to tremble as I fought off the urge to push back against him.

I heard a low laugh behind me; he must have noticed my desperation. He grabbed my hip to keep me in place, before he began rubbing his tip up and down my slick folds, eliciting the most delectable sounds from him. I felt like I was going mad. I kept trying to move against him – to get him inside me – but his hand just dug deeper into my hip. The sounds spilling out of me growing more desperate by the moment.

His words came low and pained, “Fuck. Am I teasing you or me?” Then he finally pulled me towards him, burying himself to the hilt.

My arms gave out and I fell face first onto the mattress, clawing at the sheets. Only his desperate grip on my hips keeping me in place. His breathing came ragged as he tensed inside me, holding me there. I moaned, biting down on the underwear for dear life, knowing I’d get my mind blown once he actually started moving.

It didn’t matter that I knew it was coming, I wasn’t ready for it. My eyes rolled back as I tried to ride the waves of motion.

Only a short moment passed before he muttered, “Fuck”, low and guttural, only to come to a full stop. A hand appeared next to my face to grab the belt looped around my neck, gently yanking on it, “Back on all fours, love.” His words were shaky, you could tell he was fighting his own climax. Made more obvious by how much I could feel him throb inside me. I should have been disappointed it wouldn’t last long, but all it did was fan the flames of the fire inside me, turning it into an inferno – leaving me intoxicated with lust.

I pushed myself back up, my own arms as shaky as his voice. I could see his shadow painted on the wall in front of me, his head slumped forward, chest heaving. When he started moving inside me again his head fell back, the ragged breaths coming faster, heavier. My heart beating steadily between my legs, my teeth clenching, my fists balling as I used all my energy to stay in place while I felt like my brain was about to explode.

His head snapped back up and he began pounding me faster, making a sound akin to a growl. He yanked on the make-shift leash, choking me for a second as it pulled me up against him, then the movements came to a sudden stop.

“I should’ve fucking cum without you this morning, I can’t do this much longer.” He said through clenched teeth, a mixture of frustration and anger dripping from his words.

Once again I felt him tense inside me, and I couldn’t help it, it was too tempting; I moved my hips on him, causing him to whimper and hold me tighter to prevent further movement.

“None of that.” His words were breathy and distant, clearly too busy focusing on not coming just yet. A grin bloomed on my face, feeling high as a kite from all the extreme sensations I’ve experienced tonight.

Since I wasn’t able to move my hips – and despite my better judgement – I tensed my pussy instead. His grip on me tightened further, turning painful with his nails digging into me, another low and pained noise escaping him as he buried his face in my neck.

“You’ll regret that.” He spoke against my skin before pushing me forward, yanking the belt harder – not quite stopping my breathing, but hard enough to make me grab for it out of pain. I fumbled to steady myself as he suddenly let go of the belt to grab my hips, pounding me hard and fast – just for a moment – before he pulled out. He let go of me, and I slumped forward onto the bed, feeling empty and shaky.

“Come here, down on your knees.” His words were low and pained.

Regardless of my state, I hurried to do as he said, knowing he was close.

As soon as I got on my knees he shoved his hand into my hair to guide my face close to his cock. It was so beautifully veiny and slick from my own juices, bobbing slightly from the edging.

“Open your mouth.” He bit out, in an oh-so-delightfully desperate tone.

I snapped it open and looked up at him. He appeared possessed, completely taken over by lust. His lips were as glossy as his eyes as he stared down at me.

Hurriedly, he pulled the underwear out of my mouth, then grabbed his cock to stroke it as he spoke, “I can’t tell you how tempting it is to cum all over you, love – show everyone downstairs you’re my whore.” His voice was deeper as he got closer to the edge.

My nerves crept back at his words, my eyes darted between the cock in his hand and his dark, glassy, eyes.

“I can’t imagine a more beautiful image.” With each word his tone fell deeper still, turning it nearly demonic. Every stroke came longer, slower – with more intent.

“Suck it.” Barely a whisper. He guided my head onto it with a moan, and as soon as my lips closed around his length I felt the cum spilling onto my tongue. The fist in my hair pushing and pulling me the way he wanted, my mouth filling up more and more with every movement. So many sounds spilling out of him as he trembled, making my eyes fall shut; making me moan in response – making me not want to swallow, so I could keep feeling exactly like this for longer.

When he was done he pulled out of my mouth, and fell to his knees in front of me.

Bliss was on his features; tired eyes, flushed face, a lazy wicked grin, with his still hard cock pressing up against his shirt as he was leaning forwards slightly. I could feel my own features mirroring his bliss as I took in the sight of him.

I wanted so badly to take a mental screenshot and keep it forever.

The lazy smile on his lips grew as he was staring at my mouth. He gently grabbed my chin, realising I was still holding his cum in there.

With a soft laugh he said, “Go on, swallow.”

Reluctantly, I did as he said, feeling the warm liquid run down my throat.

He scanned my face with wonder in his eyes, “Good girl.”

... Continue reading on Ao3

#oli sykes #oli sykes fic #oli sykes fan fiction #oli sykes smut #bring me the horizon #you got a taste now #smut #oli sykes x reader

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nrc-broadcasting · 2 years

Text

A Deal Sealed In Gold

⋆﹥━━━━━━━🎧━━━━━━━﹤⋆

There has seem to be an issue(well, actually, just my dumba/ss); I answered this ask and instead of saving it to drafts, I posted it. I, for some reason, couldn’t post it privately or even do anything to it other than delete or edit it. So yeah, have a picture for a substitute.

A yawn erupted from Yuu’s mouth, minuscule amounts of morning dew still in their eyes.

They traced circles on their bedsheets, trying to grasp their consciousness before getting up.

Finally getting their bearings, the rose and stretched their arms out above their head.

After nudging Grim a few times to get him to wake up, they started making breakfast; it wasn’t much, since Ace and Deuce didn’t spend the night so their the only person eating, Grim only eats 2 tuna cans for breakfast these days.

“Grim~ time to get up,” Yuu said, clapping their hands loudly to try and get the sleeping cat on the counter to wake up again.

“HMMMM!” Grim mumbled begrudgingly.

“Oh?” Yuu raised an eyebrow.

“Get up now before I resort to hitting two pans together.” Yuu’s icy voice reached Grim, who shot up like he was electrocuted.

“I-I’m up, henchman!” Grim stuttered.

Yuu merely sighed. “Let’s just go and eat breakfast,” they said, opening a can of tuna.

After eating, they started brushing their teeth after helping Grim with his fur.

Deciding to review some e-mail requests, they picked up their phone with their toothbrush still in their mouth.

Their morning was peaceful. That was, until an e-mail mentioning a certain merman’s business made them choke on toothpaste.

•••

“Good morning, Twisted Wonderland! And by the Seven, do we have an interesting e-mail to read to day,” Yuu said into the mic, chuckling. A small smile etched on their face as the same upbeat music played in the background.

“Alright, right onto it I guess!” Yuu said, re-adjusting Grim’s position on their lap and giving him a few pets.

“This one comes from a listener named Annie, hope you tuned in today!” Yuu greeted.

“They ask; how did you get the upper hand on Azul Ashengrotto? It seems like making a deal with him is my last resort, so how do I avoid getting potentially exploited after signing a contract?” Yuu smiled, despite knowing they’ll get hell from the Octotrio later.

“Let me tell you the easy way out,” Yuu paused for suspense.

“Just don’t.” Yuu sighed, knowing they were probably in a tough place and thought that was their only option.

“Don’t even think about signing the contract.” Yuu said firmly.

“But should the situation really does call for it,” Yuu hesitated.

“Alright, Listen Up I suggest you read the contract more than 10 times to confirm that there’s no hidden clause, or offer something he’d deem worth more than your unique magic.” Yuu explained.

“I have faith that Azul’s stopped the way he…used to run his business. But after seeing people like you hesitate? The trust I have for Azul is still there, but I’ll go and check on Mostro Lounge myself anyway.” Yuu shook their head.

“You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. Or in other words, you take ridiculous risks and bear the consequences.” Yuu said.

“That contract might look golden like daylight. But I guarantee you there are a myriad of ways you can do to solve your problems; though I might not know what they are exactly, but if a contract is the last resort,” Yuu paused

“It should be the last resort.” Yuu warned.

“If, even despite all this, you still decide to go through with it, try to fulfill your side of the contract. If the requests are near impossible for you, remember most contracts have loopholes,” Yuu said, careful to talk slowly so the listeners can absorb the information.

“The contract you’ll make with Azul is not an exception, so search for any loopholes you can play to your advantage.” Yuu advised.

“The worst that’ll happen when you don’t complete a contract is that you’ll have to work at Mostro Lounge; for how long? That’ll depend on Azul himself.” Yuu said.

Their phone let out a little ding, signifying a notification; Yuu raised their eyebrow.

“Oh hey, it’s a new e-mail from Annie! Happy to see you’re listening in today.” Yuu gave a small smile, lightening the atmosphere.

“Annie asks: What are the things he’d deem more valuable than my unique magic?” Yuu read out loud.

“Ah,” Yuu sweat-dropped.

“It would seem you asked the wrong person, I wouldn’t know as I don’t even have magic! I’m sorry but I don’t think I’ll be able to give you advice on that.” Yuu genuine laughed. They’re magicless, that’s a fact, so it would be useless to take it as an insult.

“But if you ask what I think he’d find valuable, I have a few answers.” Yuu said.

“Pearls, corals, magic crystals, blot crystals, and that’s just to name a few.” Yuu said, counting on their fingers.

“The head of two dead eels and of a squid would suffice too, if you’re feeling a bit petty…” Yuu mumbled, mostly to themselves.

“You can also compensate him by being a good costumer, buying products in bulk and such.” Yuu said, zoning out to try and think of more suggestions. But alas, nothing came to mind.

Shaking their head, they focused their attention back to the mic in front of them.

“So, Annie, did that answer your question?” Yuu asked.

Another ding from Yuu’s phone.

“They said: Yes, it did! I’m glad to be able to help.” Yuu said.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━🎧━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Our fairytale has come to an end.

#twst yuu #disney twst #twisted wonderland #unique magic: listen up #azul ashengrotto #twst imagines #twst mc #twst #answered asks #again please point out any grammar and spelling mistakes #twst incorrect quotes #incorrect twst #twst interactions

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writernopal · 1 year

Text

Yearning

7:30 PM.

That meant Mariel was likely right in the middle of back-to-school night activities. I let out a sigh, staring at my phone just a little longer. Her smiling face looked back at me through the cracked glass of its screen. How I wished she could be here. She’d flown back home to visit her parents before school started again, and once she’d gotten back, she’d been so busy preparing for the new year that she had no time for me. For some reason, I hadn't expected her absence to dampen my spirits so significantly. I'd expected to miss her but I hadn't expected to feel such pain in my heart over it....

I fished my keys out of my pocket and put my phone away, deciding to focus on the race ahead of me. But it was hard, not only because I was distracted but because there were already girls huddled around my car and making eyes at me. Usually, that sent me into an excited frenzy, but today it just made me angry. There was only one girl I wanted to see near my car, and she wasn’t here.

“Off the lot of ye’s!” I screamed at them.

They backed away with a myriad of complaints as I climbed in and slammed the door shut. I jammed the key into the ignition, sank the clutch, and roared the engine to a start, revving it a few times to send the annoying crowd from before back further. Magdalene’s car pulled up next to mine, and of course she was wearing her ever-present pursed lips but also something new; a red lipstick mark on the side of her neck. Tattoo or good luck charm?

“Don’t drive angry. I won’t take you to the hospital like last time.” She said over the idling of our engines before pulling away toward the direction of the start line.

I sighed and buckled my seat belt.

Taking her advice was what I should do, but whether or not I could accomplish it was another thing entirely. Either way, I followed her, taking my place behind her vehicle. I’d usually pass the time taunting my opponent while I waited for my turn, but I had no interest in that right now. I just wanted to go home, smoke, and sleep.

Soon enough it was my turn at the start line. I coaxed a few loud pops from my tailpipes, immediately pleasing the crowd that had gathered. My opponent responded with a few pops of his own, and then the flag dropped. I couldn’t remember much after that, it was all a flurry of upshifts, downshifts, and some less-than-gentle pulls of the handbrake, but in the end, I was declared the winner. Though I certainly didn’t feel like one.

“Excuse me! Excuse me! I know the driver, please let me through! Excuse me!” I heard a tiny and familiar voice say as I climbed out of my car.

I looked all around, and emerging from the crowd was the small, cardigan and plaid ankle-length skirted figure of Mariel. She was holding a bouquet against her chest and wore a frazzled look.

“Oi, let her pass!” I yelled, making my way over and parting the crowd until I reached her.

“Hello!” She called out over the noisy crowd, suddenly wearing a bright smile, “I missed you!”

“Ahoy! I missed ye too!” I responded with a smile of my own as I led us back to my car, where it was a little quieter, “But how did ye find me?”

“Well, I googled ‘street races near me,’ but that didn’t yield any results… so I called Sartor because I remember he mentioned Magdalene was racing tonight too, and I thought you might both be racing in the same location….” She admitted, “Anyway, congratulations. I-I didn’t see the whole thing, but I saw the end. It was quite thrilling.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

Of course, she would do something like that!

“Thank ye. Be those for me?” I asked, gesturing to the flowers.

“Yes. I thought I should bring something, but it doesn’t look like the other winners are holding anything like it, so perhaps it was a little silly to do.” She replied, looking around in an overly self-aware manner.

“Nay be silly, but there be one thin’ every winner wants.” I said, taking the flowers from her.

“What’s that?”

“A kiss.” I said with a wink, leaning down to her level and poking my cheek.

“G-Give me a moment.” She said, opening her small purse to search for something.

I watched with some interest and a few seconds later, she produced the item she’d been looking for: a tube of lipstick. She hastily applied it, gently placed her hand on my snout, and gave me a big smooch on the cheek, pressing her lips in to leave a mark. My throat grew warm, and I could see her cheeks become a bright red as she cleaned the remaining lipstick off with a napkin.

“C-Can I drive ye home?” I asked, hoping she would say yes and maybe even be persuaded to let me inside once we got there.

“Y-Yes. I-I was hoping you might ask that….”

This was a fun one to write and entirely out of my comfort zone because I know absolutely nothing about racing or cars 😅 I originally wanted to write the scene of Axtapor driving during the race but this piece was already on the longer side anyway and thought it would turn out too wordy. I’d like to keep exploring this AU more in the future so maybe one day I will get to write a cool driving scene but for now, I am more than happy with this!

#ockiss23 #axtapor #mariel #modern au #oc kiss week #day 5 #writerblr #writeblr #my writing #aasoaf retold #racing #mostly my ocs #magdalene #sartor #guest appearance

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cloudbattrolls · 2 years

Text

Fever Pitch: Epilogue

Chimer swiveled around in the office chair, which was too short for her (no surprise there) but otherwise pretty comfy. She’d have to congratulate Ullane on her good taste for that and that only when the yellowblood finally woke up.

Across from her on a less fancy chair sat Thrixe Varzim, looking particularly miserable with his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. She guessed she couldn’t blame the guy.

Between them lay a table covered in paper.

It had been quite the experience to get a call from him, even more so when he had begged for her help, begged her to destroy what she’d found in QPIN’s servers before Queenpin realized it was there and remembered what she’d been forced to forget.

Which was that the colossal idiot of a bloodsucker had planned to threaten the fleet itself with her great and super ethical reality-breaking horrorterror weapon that she had run countless tests with using stuff from Thrixe, and had meant to run more until she got exactly what she wanted. What a woman.

Since the clinic was out a sponsor, and Chimer was out many things, they’d made a deal.

Granted, it wasn’t technically finalized yet. They had to wait for Ullane to be conscious to sign and seal all the official documents. That might take a while.

They’d done surgery on her, and between traditional methods and Friday’s nanotech, the staff had managed to repair all the internal damage despite some difficulties.

They hadn’t used any of Thrixe’s regenerative serums. He’d insisted it was too dangerous.

He had clearly been terrified of what might happen.

With obvious reluctance and discomfort, he’d told her exactly what had happened on Nott, what he’d done to the space station and how he’d persuaded his ancestor to stop.

Chimer had shrugged at his clear shame and struggle to not try to frame things in a more normal light. Yeah, he was weird. Yeah, he was gonna have to deal with it.

She wasn’t without sympathy, but for once, she actually found herself preferring Tuuya’s unapologetic cheeriness about what they were. At least her missing guard could make jokes about it; this guy just seemed depressed.

“So that’s about all of it.” She said, stretching her arms over her head. “Make sense?”

“Yes.” He said, clearly not mentally present as he stared off to the side.

She snapped her fingers. “Focus, buddy. We still have a clinic to run, and I don’t have all night.” Her tone was brusque, though not unkind.

He nodded, and re-focused.

—

Epsilo panted, still missing his gills terribly. He had to get to Vernrot, but he couldn’t be seen this way.

He was…he was a mutant now.

Violet caste, no violet traits, no physical traces that he’d ever had them. He was fair game for hunters, for dissection. Even Vallis might turn on him…

How it hurt that just as his friend gained the ability to breathe underwater, he lost his forever.

But he couldn’t abandon him. The quiet was agonizing, and part of him hated it still…but it had brought clarity as well.

He had to help Vallis. Nothing they did was truly progressing science. Not when it couldn’t be understood by others.

Not when the cost was far, far too high.

—

Ullane shifted in her sleep from strange and myriad dreams.

Her eyes fluttered, and for the first time in nights, she woke.

She didn’t stir. She was still too weak. Instead she gazed at the wooden ceiling, marveling that she was even alive.

Perhaps she did not deserve to be. Perhaps some part of her had hoped that when she accepted Uryali’s bargain, that would be the end. That she would remove the burden of QPIN from the clinic, the yoke of debt and the terrible things they had to make, the violence she had done, and that would be a suitable final act.

At least her life would have left a lasting impact; at least she would have fixed some of her mistakes.

Now…she didn’t know if she was disappointed or not that she was still here. Had she succeeded? She could hardly remember.

Ah, now she remembered one thing…the reason she hadn’t succumbed. The reason she’d held Uryali back until Thrixe came.

Despite it all, Ullane smiled.

END

#cloud writes #fever pitch #chimer latrai #epsilo volant #thrixe varzim #ullane wistim #I think everyone had a great and enriching time #and now the clinic is free from QPIN!

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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nottodayjjk · 3 years

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dirty little secret ~ knj

❆ summary: one fateful night in december, you come to acquire santa's naughty or nice list by accident. together with your neighbour and best friend namjoon you uncover the dirty secrets of your neighbours plunging everything into chaos. bringing mischief about is all fun games, until your own little secret appears on the naughty and nice list.

❆ pairing: namjoon x female reader (minor appearance of other idols)

❆ word count: 10,4k

❆ genre: humor, romance, fluff, smut

❆ fic warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), language

❆ rating: 18+

❆ notes from the author: this fic is part of a hoeliday well spent from the christmas in july collab hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung and @xiaokoo and is loosely based on the hallmark channel-movie ‘naughty or nice’ (2012). i had a lot of fun writing this! big thank you again to @kookdiaries for creating this incredible banner and for @minigum for being the most wonderful beta reader <3

❆ tag list: @shameless-army @writtenwhalien @shrimpmsg @moonchild1

In the dark of the night, snow was falling softly and covered the street in peaceful quietness. Christmas decorations and flickering candles adorned the lit windows and lights were beautifully draped around snow-covered bushes. Sparkling reindeers pulled Santa’s carriage and inflated snowmen waved happily at cars driving by. Christmas time had just begun.

A few lamps illuminated the street with their yellow dimmed light as a dark, giant shadow slipped past. Quiet footsteps could be heard in the stillness of the cold winter night, wading through ankle-deep snow in heavy black boots. They were on their way to the sturdy apartment building on the left side of the desolate street, determined to fulfil their quest. They took another look around before they slipped through the glass door, the red fabric of their clothes gleamed under the flickering light of the broken lamp of the entrance lobby. Then, the night was quiet again.

You had been out with your best friend and next-door neighbour Namjoon whom you knew a few years by now. From the first day you had set foot in the small apartment building, he had been a helping hand, mainly through helping you carry a myriad of small boxes and things all the way up to the 6th floor where the both of you lived. The elevator had, of course, been out of order on that day. But he hadn’t complained at all! And because he had gone way out of his way even though he had only met you that same day, you had invited him to a take-away pizza and a bottle of cheap wine from the supermarket right around the corner. You had not expected your first night in your new home to be like this, to be so much fun. He had stayed until the morning, the two of you talking about anything and everything until the birds had chirped good morning outside. And the bond between the two of you had only grown from there on out.

You had visited a local Christmas market together, drinking a whole lot of eggnog and relishing in the joyful spirit of Christmas. You had never been someone to celebrate Christmas before you had met Namjoon. In your first year, he had basically dragged you to the market and filled you up with all kinds of different Christmassy drinks and snacks, bought you several gingerbread hearts, and even got you to ride one of the many attractions with him. The next day had been awful, the hot chocolate with rum had come out the same way that it had gone in. Still, it had been the most joyous Christmas time you had ever had.

Ever since then, he always did something new with you every Christmas. Buying a tree, seeing a Santa Claus show in the city centre, or writing letters with long wish lists to Santa. But it had never come down to actually spending Christmas eve and morning together, to your disappointment. He usually drove to his parents, a three-hour ride from where you lived, leaving you on your own to sulk in loneliness until he came back for New Year’s Eve.

Well, this year he had bugged you until you had agreed to go décor shopping for your apartment with him. It had made him sad to see your living space so empty during a cheery time like this. He got you all the basic things: fairy lights, cute little snowmen that had the friendliest smiles, a whole lot of candlesticks with red candles that smelled like gingerbread and cinnamon, hell, even glitter balls and bows for the small tree he also had gotten you.

After putting all the decorations up and “to celebrate your joyful shopping spree”, as Namjoon had called it, he had once again persuaded you to go to the Christmas market, letting no feeble excuses count. He had been in too good of a mood anyway for you to turn him down. You found it cute when he was all excited and giddy like this.

He had ordered eggnog after eggnog. His infectious enthusiasm had only gone up, not down a tad as you had hoped. But after the third eggnog, you hadn’t minded anymore anyway. Namjoon had entertained you all through the evening, making you laugh and enjoy yourself after a long week of studying and learning. Even though it had just snowed the other day, the eggnog had held you warm through and through, your cheeks feeling hot. Maybe it had also been a little bit because of Namjoon and how he had scooted closer and closer to you throughout the evening, ‘to keep each other warm’ as he had stated.

You had stayed until the booth had closed and the owner had hushed you to finally head home. Given both of your inebriated states, getting home had taken twice as long as it did when you’d left from home to go out.

As you had reached the door, waving a last goodbye to Namjoon who had stumbled clumsily into his own apartment, it had taken you a few minutes until you finally had gotten the key into the hole. You hadn’t even bothered to brush your teeth, only changing into comfy pyjamas – which had been quite the task – and slipping into bed. Dreamland hadn’t waited long to come, and you had fallen sound asleep.

So, to no one’s surprise, you didn’t hear when soft but heavy footsteps approached your apartment in the middle of the night. Didn’t spot the broad shadow that could be seen through the small gap under your door where the light fell in. Didn’t notice when a thick package wrapped with packing paper was pushed through the letter slot of your apartment door.

The package fell to the ground with a gentle thud. The towering figure hummed a merry tune before taking off again. You only turned around in your sleep, mumbling, “No more eggnog, Namjoon”, before it was quiet once more.

The rest of the night went uneventfully, and the package laid peacefully on your door mat until morning came.

A pounding headache. That was what had woken you up. The eggnog hadn’t been a good idea from the start, and you had told Namjoon several times. But even though he had listened to you, he had ignored your reasonable request. He hadn’t really given you a choice to begin with. And you hadn’t wanted to complain. At least he had paid and that was all that had been needed to convince you.

While Namjoon was already producing his own music, you were still a university student majoring in Art. You got by fine with the money your parents sent you and what you earned from your part-time job at the library, but you were still glad for every penny you could keep and save for after university. You dreamed of opening your own business and, heck, you needed a lot of money for that.

When Namjoon had heard of your ideas, he had been in immediately, supporting you in every way possible. Even if it meant paying for your drinks or your museum visits on the weekend. As long as he got to spend time with you, it was worth all his money.

You desperately grabbled for the nightstand. Luckily, you had prepared pain meds and water in advance, even a small piece of toast. Your nights out with Namjoon usually ended like this, so you are accustomed to it.

Sitting up a little, you popped the pills into your mouth first before chucking the water into your throat as if your life depended on it. Once you’d dealt with that, you reached towards the toast, munching on it until it was no more.

You felt better immediately as the medicine worked its way through your system and the toast soaked up the remaining alcohol in your stomach. Slowly the turns in your stomach lessened and until there was one thing overtaking your needs. It was time for coffee.

Slowly, you got up, swaying a little back onto the bed but overall, it was not as bad as you’d had expected. Sure, the eggnog had made your stomach a little weak, but you felt certain it could handle the coffee. Otherwise, you couldn’t make it through the day. Coffee was vital right now.

On the way out of your bedroom, you snatched your long silk gown, putting it on. You headed straight to the coffee machine, pushing the little blinking button so it started grinding the black beans. The soft smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air as you grabbed a big mug from the sink. You sighed and leaned one hip on the counter.

As you waited for the coffee you looked around and your gaze fell onto an exceptionally cheery snowman on your coffee table. You had never been keen on Christmas decorations. They were too bright, too colourful, and too cheesy.

Well, jokes on you. All the things the two of you had bought, the fairy lights, red candles, a few reindeers and snowmen, and some green fir branches, were now spread around your apartment, the small tree chilling next to your TV in the corner. It was hard to say ‘No’ to Namjoon’s puppy eyes. He usually got his way with you.

It had also been his idea to not only put the lights on the curtain rods but to wind them around them, too.

He had held you safely by your waist as you had stood on the ladder to reach up there. His long, slender hands had felt so warm through your clothes that your heart had stuttered for a second and you had gotten the job done rather quickly to get away from this weird feeling that had erupted in your chest. Because you couldn’t admit it to yourself. You couldn’t admit that Namjoon had become more than a best friend to you over the last few years.

But you had to confess; the lights were very very pretty. You even thought about keeping them up there after Christmas. They brought a soft glow around the room that made it feel unbelievably cosy and romantic.

As you absentmindedly grabbed for your finished cup of coffee you couldn’t help but remember the way Namjoon’s skin had glowed in these lights. How mesmerizing he had looked. How hard you had had to keep yourself from putting a hand up to one of his cheeks and caressing his soft skin.

You lost yourself in the memory for a second before you noticed something very peculiar from the corner of your eye. Something very square and brown. It was a package. On your doormat. ‘What in god’s name,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed it in curious suspicion. The post usually never came that early. Especially not on a Saturday. And why had no one rang the bell? It was odd, to say the least.

You left your coffee on the counter, steam still rising in puffy clouds from the cup. Cautiously, you made your way over to the mysterious package that read your full address, but no sender. It was quite big, now that you had gotten closer, and it had you wondering how it had fit through the narrow letter slot. Maybe Namjoon was pulling a prank on you?

Before you picked up the package, you opened the door and checked the hallway, frantically looking left and right. But no one was there, not even Namjoon to cheekily grin at you.

Closing the door behind you, you took the brown package and laid it down on the counter next to your coffee. You eyed it once more while taking a long sip from the beverage. Should you open it? What if there was something… bad or deadly inside? You had heard of such packages before on the news. People sent them to get revenge on ex-partners or enemies. Well, you had no such things… and Namjoon seemed to be out of the picture as well.

After some more staring, curiosity finally got the best of you, and you carefully ripped open the brown packing paper. It revealed a heavy book that was edged in red velvety fabric that had golden ornaments engraved. Imprinted on it was the lettering “Naughty or Nice”. Wait- what?!

Snorting laughter erupted from your chest. This had to be a prank, right? ‘Namjoon’s good,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Keeps hiding until I actually look at the book. Not a very good prank, but alright…’

As you were about to open it, you could hear a key jingling in front of your door and some mumbled curses. ‘Speaking of the devil.’ Namjoon strode through the door in his pyjama and a long gown, his hair looking dishevelled and eyes still half-closed. He had your spare keys which gave him the possibility to let himself in whenever and you didn’t mind. At this point, it had become commonplace.

You watched with an amused grin as he immediately scuffed over to the coffee machine, grabbing another cup from the sink, and turning it on once more. He inhaled the smell just like you did before he turned around to face you.

“Morning, Y/N,” he hummed, and a lop-sided grin adorned his lips. Hell, how did this sleepy look fit him so well? “How is your stomach?”

You crossed your arms and leant back on the counter. “Better than I thought. You?”

“Same, same. I just really craved your coffee. This machine is a literal angel!” He turned back around to grab his coffee and take a big gulp before letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Very funny, by the way.” You pointed at the book behind you, still laying unopened on your counter. “You never have Christmas-pranked me before so that’s a first. But it isn’t one of your best ideas, if I can be honest with you.”

There was a moment of silence. You had expected him to laugh at you or make a clever remark about how he had gotten you to open it. But… nothing. He just blankly stared at you. “What?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Making this book look like Santa’s Naughty or Nice list? Very funny, Namjoon, very funny!” You chuckled a little at him pretending not to know what you were talking about.

He spied over your shoulder, reading the lettering. And shook his head. “Y/N. I… didn’t prank you. This–“ He pointed to the book. “–is nothing I came up with. Though I must say, I think it’s a pretty good idea!” He snickered a little and took another sip of his coffee.

“But–“ You turned around to the book. “–who sent it to me then? I don’t know who else would try and prank me…” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taking another look at the packing paper. Still nothing but your address.

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I was just about to when you came through the door.” You put a hand on the binding. The velvet fabric felt soft under your fingertips and the golden lettering glittered in the glim of the fairy lights. It looked so… real.

Carefully, you opened it, coming face to face with a blank page. Maybe the others? You browsed to the next page. And the next. And the next. But they were all blank, not even a tiny little bit of ink to be seen. ‘Weird…’

Skimming through the rest of the book, you looked for anything peculiar. Nothing. “It’s empty,” you told Namjoon, while going back to the first page and leaving it open.

You heard shuffling on the floor and suddenly Namjoon leaned over your shoulder to look at the book. He stretched out his hand to skim through it as well. He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and his breath on your neck as he let out a confused huff.

When he stepped back from you after inspecting the book, you wished him back closer behind you. ‘Stop that,’ you scolded yourself in your head. ‘He is your best friend!’

“Well, it actually looks like someone pulled a prank on you,” Namjoon stated while making himself another cup of coffee. He usually runs on three. On a good day. That you knew his coffee consumption so well said a lot about how regularly he came over in the morning to use your coffee machine.

“Apparently…”

Loud bass suddenly disrupted the morning, booming through the wall to your left. ‘No, not again!’ It was your other neighbour… Jungkook. He kept it down on most days. But he always pulled this on a Saturday morning, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose just to annoy you. You had banged on the wall a few times before. On some days he even turned the music down after your knocking complaint. But today, it was on a whole other level. As if he knew you had been out late and had a mild hangover.

“Ugh, I’ll swear I’ll punch him some day,” you mumbled while pinching your eyebrows in frustration.

Namjoon knew you weren’t kidding. Jungkook had been getting on your nerves ever since he had moved in next door. Before him, there lived a nice and quiet lady who occasionally baked chocolate cookies for the two of you and had always put something nice in front of your door during Christmas time. Now, there was Jungkook. Student, party animal, and the type to listen to music so loud you couldn’t hear your own thoughts.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Namjoon said. “But I also don’t want to have to visit you in prison during Christmas time.” He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair before chucking down his coffee.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling noise of paper coming from the counter. The book! It was turning its pages on its own. “Holy-“

You stepped in front of the counter, Namjoon following closely, eyes as wide as the moon. “How is that possible?” he whispered while peering over your shoulder again.

A golden light bloomed from the Naughty or Nice book and the two of you just stared at in great awe as sparkles danced around the room. “I’m usually not one to believe in magic,” Namjoon muttered under his breath. “But this is a whole new thing…”

The turning stopped and the pages gently dropped down. Beautiful, curved letters emerged, writing your neighbour’s name. They shone golden in the light. “What is happening?” you hissed while intently watching the book. Namjoon just shrugged his shoulders, speechless.

Jeon Jungkook: always leaves his trash in front of Mrs. Kim’s apartment door

Underneath was a moving picture, showing Jungkook looking around frantically before putting his trash bag on Mrs. Kim’s doormat and a more detailed description of what was going on. You gasped out in disbelief. “Mrs. Kim is always so nice! How dare he!?”

Namjoon let out an angry huff. “You’ve got a good point but-“ His forehead crinkled in confusion and scepticism. “How does it do that?”

You shrugged, turning the page to see if it had a built-in display. But… there was nothing. It was just a normal page like any other. You turned back to the picture of Jungkook where he had gotten caught in the act. By whom? You didn’t know, could only guess… But no, this was not possible. Santa didn’t exist. But… an idea came to your head.

“Hmm, let’s put this to a test,” you said as the pounding bass continued to boom through the wall. You left the book open, the image of Jungkook engraved in your head, as you turned on your heels and made your way over to the door.

“You actually gonna go over there?” Namjoon trailed behind you, not sure if this was the right thing to do. You definitely had a reason to be angry at Jungkook. But what if this was all just a scam? Well, it felt far too real for that, but Namjoon wasn’t yet ready to call his beliefs into question. This was insane.

You nodded and opened the door. “He has been getting on my nerves for a few weeks now. It’s time to put this to a stop.” You gave him one last determined book before stepping out into the hallway.

Namjoon shook his head in amusement at your vendetta and stopped at your doorstep, leaning against the frame watching you. This was your fight. He wouldn’t get between the frontlines. He knew your anger all too well.

You rapped viciously on the door; quite sure Jungkook wouldn’t hear any of it. And of course, the door didn’t open and the music blared on. So, you resorted to a more effective method. You pressed the button of the bell and held it down. ‘I will have you answer your door even if it takes the whole freaking day.’

It took a few seconds, but you heard the music fading and someone swearing behind the door. It worked. A malicious smirk adorned your lips. You weren’t even nervous, more excited to try the spicy information you had acquired about him. The keys jingled in the keyhole and an annoyed face appeared in the ajar door. “What is it?”

You crossed your arms and put on your most intimidating look. The secret from the book gave you a hell of a confident boost. “Jungkook,” you started, “I’ve told you many many times to quiet it down.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I know. I’m sorry but-“

You cut him off immediately. “No buts. You’re either gonna tone it down from now on or…”

“Or what? You’re trying to threaten me?” He laughed and threw his head back. “That’s new. Well, you’ve got nothing on me, Y/N.”

You squinted your eyes at him, and a smile grew on your face. “You sure?”

Jungkook leaned against the door frame while looking bored. The arrogant look on his face gave you the rest of the encouragement you needed. “Well,” you swirled one of your hair strands around your finger, “I know you’re putting your trash bags on Mrs. Kim’s doormat, so you don’t have to take it out yourself…”

It took a moment for Jungkook to realise what you just said. But when he finally did, his jaw almost dropped down to his knees. “How-“

“The poor woman. I think she deserves to know…” You turned around, feeling the power pulsating in your hands. It was electrifying! You slowly strode over to your apartment.

“Y/N!” Jungkook called out after you, desperation apparent in his voice. “I-“ He dropped his head in defeat, all pride and arrogance had left his body. “If you don’t tell her, I promise I’m gonna tone it down from now on,” he caved in.

“You better,” you just answered and walked away, leaving a speechless Jungkook by his door.

Namjoon snickered as you entered your apartment again, finding the whole situation very amusing. “Have you seen his face? He was so stunned!” Both of you burst out into a fit of laughter, needing a few seconds to calm yourselves down again.

You went back to the still open book. “So it tells the truth…” you stated while tracing the letters with your fingers when they suddenly started to disappear. “Oh! They’re vanishing!”

“Probably because you called him out on that,” Namjoon assumed, looking at the now empty page and then at you. “You know what that means… right?”

You turned it over in your head for a few seconds before you answered Namjoon’s gaze with a mischievous smile. “Let’s discover some secrets this Christmas!”

And so, the two of you went on to discover the hidden secrets and misdeeds of all of your neighbours. The book was never wrong. Not when it told you that Mrs. Kim had a secret fling with Mr. Sung from floor 5 and they were acting like giddy teenagers, that Mrs. Lee let her dog pee on Mrs. Park’s door mat once in a while because they couldn’t stand each other, that Soonyoung from second floor liked to bathe in pure milk occasionally, that Yeji from first floor stole Mr. Chew’s newspaper now and then because he was rude to basically everyone in the building, that Taehyung from fourth floor had sang Christmas carols in the middle of the night for Yeji because he had been out to drink, and many many more.

Some of them you used for your amusement, but most of them were kept between the both of you. You felt closer to Namjoon than ever before. Sharing and keeping secrets about your neighbours bound you together. And Christmas time was a blast, for the both of you! You went out once in a while to the Christmas market again but usually you kept your noses in the Naughty or Nice book, awaiting the next secret to appear. So, Christmas time went by in a happy blur.

After coming home from another one of your merry adventures, you began to realise that this might all be over soon. Actually, Christmas evening was tomorrow already and Namjoon would probably be off to his parents. You didn’t want to stop discovering all these secrets with Namjoon. You had spent a lot of time together; it had been so much fun. And you liked being around him, you knew that. You weren’t ready to admit it, but you had fallen in love with him even more by now. Even after all these years, his way of living and his wisdom still amazed you to no end.

Your thoughts were suddenly disrupted by Namjoon as the both of you reached your apartment door. “Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. Namjoon stood in front of you, nervously wrenching his hands. You had never seen him skittish before. Had something happened?

He took a deep breath before he began to speak. “I was… wondering if you wanted to spent Christmas together?” Namjoon nervously scratched his head. “I-“ he stumbled over his own words for a moment. “I don’t want you to be alone for Christmas. And my parents won’t be at home anyway. So, I was wondering- I mean-“ He rambled on and gestured wildly between the both of you.

To stop him, you gently put your hand on his arm. “Yes,” you answered simply and smiled at him happily, not able to contain your excitement at his request. Your heart was beating in your chest. Spending Christmas with Namjoon was a dream come true.

“I... would love to.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly while not being able to meet his eyes. You were sure he would be able to read your confused feelings for him right there.

He let out a small huff of relief. “Good, good… We can go grocery shopping together tomorrow if you want. So we can pick something to eat that we both like.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Meet in the morning as usual?” you asked, fidgeting with your jacket sleeve.

Namjoon nodded. “I will cook of course. You will be my guest! Also, your cooking skills might be a little insufficient for Christmas…” Mischievousness gleamed in his eyes and you just shook your head, laughing a little.

“I think my cooking skills are fine as they are. It’s not my fault you don’t like the food that I cook!” you exclaimed and hit his shoulder playfully. “Also, your food might taste better than mine. But you’re definitely more chaotic than I am!”

“Okay, okay,” he put his hands up in defeat. “You’ve got a point. I’m still cooking though.” He took off his beanie to run a hand through his hair. He stretched his arms out, motioning for you to give him a goodbye-hug.

Your skin tingled as you obliged. His hands rested on your back as he tugged you close. “Good night, Y/N,” he whispered into your ear, eliciting a shiver running down your back. Gosh, his voice and his soft lips were hovering right next to your ear. It created images in your head you shouldn’t be thinking about in the proximity of your best friend, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You swallowed a big lump in your throat. “Good night to you too,” you whispered back with a hoarse voice, heart still fluttering. He could hear the rapid beating for sure.

Both of you stayed in the hug longer than necessary, thinking about what would become of your adventures once Christmas was over. You were sure the book would disappear, that its owner would come to get it.

You sighed before stepping away from Namjoon, giving him a small smile before pulling out your keys. He went over to his door, a jingling noise reaching your ears. You looked over your shoulder before entering your apartment.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” Namjoon called over in a hushed voice before he disappeared behind his own door. Little did you and he know what effect these last few words would have on you…

Wanton sounds escaped your mouth as your hands grasped fiercely for your sheets. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body as you felt a desperate mouth latching onto your clit, tongue poking out to gratify your little bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt… overwhelming.

You couldn’t hold in a lewd moan as the tongue worked magic on you. “Please–“ You couldn’t form a whole sentence without being interrupted by your own moans.

You felt a hand softly caressing your thigh. “Y/N,” a familiar voice reached your ear, making you perk up. Was this… real? You lifted yourself on your elbows to see if you were right with your guess.

Looking up from between your legs was a tousled Namjoon, cheeks red and lips glistening in the light of your fairy lights. He looked like an angel with his skin glowing golden and his hair illuminated.

It felt like a dream come true…

It wasn’t the morning light waking you up nor the loud traffic noise from the street in front of your apartment building. No. What woke you up was the growing wetness between your legs. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, a light film of sweat covered your forehead. Well, that had been… hot.

You had had dreams of Namjoon before. Funny ones, sad ones, even ones where the two of you had been dating. But with things like this, you had only been daydreaming about thus far. It had you all riled up, a little embarrassed, but first and foremost horny.

His head between your legs and his tongue on your clit had felt so real. Oh, what you’d give to actually get to feel that. But you were sure that it would remain something that stayed in your daydreams, when you had to release some friction behind your bedroom doors.

You sighed, pushing the thick blanket to the side. You had to take care of the mess between your legs and there was only one place that always helped: the shower. You had to get this dream out of your head before Namjoon would come over. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to look into his eyes without thinking of the sinful scene that repeated itself again and again in your head.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ you pushed yourself to get out of bed and into the shower. As if you didn’t enjoy this…

As you sat down by the book again with a big cup of fresh coffee, you were actually wondering if you’d ever appear on the list. Or Namjoon. And which secret of yours it would be. So far, it hadn’t spilled any of yours. But it would be merely a matter of time until the pages would reveal what you had kept from one another. Even though there were barely any secrets between the two of you. Only this… this was kind of a major one.

Absent-mindedly, you browsed through the book again. What secret would reveal itself today? Maybe about this dude all up on floor 7 that was always wearing a beanie and sunglasses or that girl from over the street that was walking her dog up and down the street.

Someone was entering the apartment. Namjoon rounded the corner and came into your view. He was also still in his morning clothes, his feet hidden beneath two slippers. Your gazes met shortly, a quick nod exchanged and gentle smiles, before he made a turn.

“And?” He strolled over to the coffee machine, slippers scratching on the floor. “Anything new?” He nodded towards the book sprawled out in front of you.

“I haven’t really checked yet, give me a second.” You concentrated back on the book, pages sliding through your fingers as you looked for a new secret until you found it. You didn’t really pay any attention at first. But then you read your name in big, curved letters. A quiet gasp slipped past your lips.

Checking to see if Namjoon was still making coffee, you hoped he was not aware of your little slip up. He happily worked away, putting coffee beans into the machine, whistling ‘Jingle Bells Rock’ to the puckering sound of the milk frother.

Then, you turned your attention back to the book. When you read Has naughty dreams of their best friend in small letters, your heart sped up and your breathing got ragged. Underneath it was, like it had always been the case before, a more detailed description of what had happened. And a picture of you writhing and moaning beneath the sheets. No, why today?!

The words in front of you blurred as you tried to fathom the consequences if Namjoon came to read this. Your friendship would be over. He would never speak to you again. Hell, what would he think of you?!

You couldn’t let that happen. He was the only thing in your life that kept you sane. That could not all be thrown away. You quickly closed the book, thinking of something to distract Namjoon.

Unfortunately, the loud thump startled Namjoon. He turned around as he heard the sudden noise. He eyed you for a second and then noticed the closed book under your hands. He put down the coffee spoon he was holding. “Uhm… Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Your eyes are like… this wide.” He put a fair distance between his thumb and his pointer finger.

Quickly shaking your head, you scrambled for words. “It’s nothing. I-I thought I…” Yeah, what did you think? It was hard to lie when Namjoon looked at you like that. Your brain couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, you just gulped heavily.

Namjoon’s coffee was now forgotten, its owner too curious about what you had read and seen. He had, of course, noticed your nervous behaviour, growing suspicious of what you were trying to do. His slippers scraped along the floor again as he casually made his way over to you. With his gaze never leaving your face, he followed your every move.

Clambering for the book, you secured it in your arms before Namjoon could reach for it. He couldn’t find out. Not about the dream. Not about the feelings you held for him. But especially not about the dream. The sinful scenes replayed themselves in your head again and you felt your cheeks heating up once more. “There is nothing in there,” you exclaimed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. But there was a crack in your voice. And you could see it in his eyes. He knew.

Scrambling to sit up right on the couch, you shook your head ‘No’, keeping the book tight in your clutches. Over your dead body would it fall into his hands.

“If there is nothing to see, why are you keeping it from me?” He tried to reason with you, stretching out a hand towards the book that you kept clutched in front of your chest, your arms wrapped around it like it was the most precious treasure you had ever possessed.

Namjoon was not one to accept a ‘No’, you knew that. You could spot the determined look in his eyes already. There was nothing that would keep him from finding out. And that had you scared like hell.

You could only stare at him, not having an answer for his very true and logical question. He would always catch you with his well thought-out reasoning. It made you want to tear your hair out every time. Right now, though, you were paralysed by fear.

“Well, you leave me no choice,” he approached you slowly, trying to read you, trying to calculate which escape route you would take. Because whatever stood in that book, had you all jittery and he had to know why. Though he knew that you would never show him voluntarily.

Panic, your brain screamed. And your body scrambled up from the couch, trying to get away from Namjoon. You still clutched the book in front of your chest with both hands.

“No, no, no!” he lunged forward, reaching for you. “You’re not getting away!” He got your left foot before you could escape safely from the couch. Your body fell back onto the cushions, knocking the breath out of your lungs. But you didn’t let go of the book, no matter the pain it would cost.

In his haste to prevent your escape, he knocked down a few wooden reindeers and snowmen from the coffee table. Luckily, there was no glass there. You had told him right in the store that you would not be buying any glass decorations if he would be around. With his clumsiness, he would knock them down within mere seconds. Hell, he had almost dropped something right then and there in the shop. But you both had other things to worry about right now than your Christmas decorations.

“Namjoon,” you shout out anxiously. “Let go of me!” But his grip on you didn’t ease up.

“Not before you show me the freaking book, Y/N!” And he kept his word, his hands desperately trying to seize the book from your tight grip. But you wouldn’t give up so easily. You once more tried to get away from him, grasping for the armrest and pulling like your life depended on it. But he was just too strong, with one hand grabbling for the book and the other holding down your legs.

While fighting him off, you didn’t notice how he’d crawled up your body, getting in nearer reach of the book. And suddenly he was way too close to your face, hovering above you in such an intimate way he never had before.

There had been moments of course. Where he had caged you in a little at your door, when he had leaned in too close, when he had pulled you into his warm embrace… But that had been something different.

Now he laid on top of you, covering your body with his. His chest heaved against yours as he tried to catch his breath from fighting with you. His grey-dyed hair fell in streaks into his eyes and once more his skin glowed in the warm fuzzy light of the fairy lights that framed his head. For a second, the both of you just... stopped.

He looked deeply into your eyes; his pupils overshadowed with an emotion you couldn’t grasp. Your heart beat even faster and your brain felt like it would explode any minute. Your senses were heightened, and you could feel his skin burning on yours. It was… ravishing. Your body couldn’t get enough of it already.

Suddenly, he snapped the book out of your hand, forcing an evil laughter out of his mouth and the moment was gone. He had shamelessly used your messed up state to his advantage and now the book was in his hands.

He scrambled back up from his position on top of you, quickly getting away from you and taking the book with him so you wouldn’t come up with the idea of snatching it back from him. Well, you had resigned already anyway. There was no way you could stop the inevitable from happening now. You said your last goodbye to your friendship. He took one last look at your dishevelled and defeated state before he plopped down on the armchair.

Thump, thump, thump. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears like the drums of that one Christmas song that they always played on the radio, and your stomach took a heavy leap. No, you couldn’t watch this. It was just too much to handle. You grabbed for the plush Santa Namjoon had gotten you as a joke last year, and hid your face in the red fabric of his cloak. You peeked out anxiously, watching Namjoon.

Pages rustled as Namjoon slowly opened the book. His heart beat just as fast as yours as he searched for the right page. Not because he was anxious, but because of his excitement as to what he would get to read on that page. And then he finally found it.

He was not surprised that it was about you. He had actually predicted that. Why else would you react that way if this didn’t reveal something about you? But the content had him gasping out in astonishment.

To actually believe it, he had to read it more than once. It beat all of his wildest dreams. Not only had you caught feelings for him, but he had of course caught feelings for you as well. And quite some time ago too. He had wanted to confess more than once but he hadn’t had the guts. He was very afraid of losing you as well so this came as a very pleasant surprise to him.

Unable to help it, he read the passage once more and let his gaze on the image of you linger a little longer, feeling arousal crawl up his body. He had caught you staring at him here and there, when going for a swim in the summer or when he read a book, when you didn’t think he would notice. He had never given much thought to it though. He would have never guessed that you had thought about him, dreamed about him.

He needed a few to gather himself, to brace himself for what was to come. He couldn’t let this slide just like that now that he knew that you felt the same for him. Now that he knew what you were craving. And he wanted to give you exactly that. All night if you wanted to. He wanted to give you the pleasure that you deserved, see you writhing underneath his fingers, calling out his name so that everyone could hear what he did to you.

A mischievous grin passed over his face. He would take care of that wish of yours, as a Christmas gift. That he promised to himself and gathered all of his confidence for. His heartbeat was going through the roof but he didn’t want you to know, and tried to keep a calm face.

You peeked out once more as he closed the book. You tried to read his face, but there was nothing to work with. Had your friendship been ruined already? Would he just leave and never say a word to you ever again? You expected the worst, already feeling tears prick in your eyes.

Namjoon slowly got up from the armchair and now you were sure he would leave the apartment. You felt embarrassment, shame, and regret overwhelm you. But there was something in you that fought back. Your eyes grew big, you couldn’t just let him go like this. “Namjoon, I-“

But he cut you off mid-sentence. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He shook his head, putting the book down on the table and shoved it over towards you. Your gaze fell back to the image of you, a moaning mess in the bed. You couldn’t handle looking at it and instead gazed up at Namjoon and being met with an expression that you hadn’t expected at all.

He looked like a boy who had gotten the biggest present for Christmas, but there was also something a lot less innocent in his eyes. Holding your gaze, he came back over to the couch and crouched in front of you.

“You’ve been –“ He swallowed visibly, nervousness getting the best of him for a second, before he proceeded with confidence “–a very naughty girl, Y/N, haven’t you?” He cocked an eyebrow while putting both of his hands next to your legs that rested on the edge of the couch.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Never had you imagined that Namjoon would speak like this to you. You could not say much, your throat going dry, and just slowly nodded your head.

“Hmm, thought so,” he answered while letting his gaze wander over your form. “Well, what do we do about that? Naughty girls need to be punished, right?” His eyes drifted back to your face, satisfied he took notice of the effect he had on you. How your legs unconsciously rubbed together at his every movement.

With the heat rising from you, he felt drawn to you.

“But I think you’ve been pretty nice this year. I think we leave the punishment for another day and instead–“ He nodded towards the book, referring to the description of your dream under the picture. “– keep working on this.” He turned back towards you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

His words were music in your ears. This was more than you could wish for. You pinched yourself for a second, making sure it wasn’t another dream of yours, that you hadn’t just fallen asleep again in your bed. But it was as real as it could get. Arousal is already pooling in your panties, Namjoon’s deep voice resounding in your head.

By now, he was drawing small, soft circles on the skin of your thigh, patiently waiting for your answer. He wouldn’t do anything about it as long as you hadn’t given your consent. There was still a little voice inside of him that wasn’t sure if you really felt the same. He had no time to think too much about it though.

You cleared your throat, the effect he had on you clear as day. “I’d… love that.” You shyly answered, carefully putting a hand on Namjoon’s cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the feeling of the gentle action.

He pushed himself up a little, his face hovering in front of yours. You held your breath, excited for what was to come. He was even closer than before. You could feel puffs of his hot breath gently caressing your lips. His eyes kept yours caged, his pupils blown looking like black holes that swallowed you to take you to another dimension.

With his hand moving up to the side of your neck, it gingerly brushed against the skin and he left it at the nape of your neck. His face inched closer, barely any space left between your lips now. Your thumb grazed over his cheek, the skin underneath warm and tender. You could stay like this forever.

“May… may I kiss you?” Namjoon asked, gaze drifting between your shining eyes and your tempting lips. You took his breath away, making him weak in the knees. Why hadn’t he confessed to you sooner? He could have had it all already. You had both missed out on so much. But there was still so much time to make up for it all.

It took all of your willpower to not kiss him right then and there, but to answer his question first. You looked deep into his eyes, “Yes, I beg you to.”

And that was all that was needed for Namjoon to desperately press his lips against yours without hesitating for even a second. Both of you closed your eyes, relishing in the moment of the first kiss shared between the two of you. It was not at all how you had expected it to feel but so much more. Your heart took a leap at his soft lips that moved so lovingly against yours while his thumb stroked your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Namjoon had to take a break to catch his breath, soft laughter escaping his lips. His hand remained at the back of your neck and so did yours on his cheek. But this break didn’t last long because both of you were already hungry for more. Your other hand went into his hair while your mouth landed back on his.

Tugging a little at the strands, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, his lips opening to the kiss. His tongue darted out, tapping against your lower lip and begging for entrance. You let him stew a little until both of your tongues met in a heated battle.

Slowly, Namjoon could feel himself getting hard. Your sweet lips got the best of him and he couldn’t do anything against it when his mind imagined them wrapped around his cock. He could feel it twitch in his pyjama pants, begging for attention. But Namjoon wanted for you to cum first. The outlook of getting to taste you with his tongue between your folds was too promising.

In fact, he didn’t want to wait any longer. As much as he enjoyed making out with you, he wanted to dig into the real fun. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead softly against yours. This time you had to catch your breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Namjoon whispered softly, asking for your permission to go on.

You pecked his lips adoringly. “I mean I’ve been dreaming about it.” Both of you chuckled lightly, caressing each other’s skin. “I couldn’t wish for more this Christmas.” You had to stifle a laugh. This was the most interesting Christmas you had ever had. And you loved it.

Namjoon made his way over to your ear with featherlight kisses to nibble on your earlobe before he hushed into your ear, making you shiver at the nickname he used for you, “I want you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable, baby girl.”

“I will,” you breathed back, enjoying the shivers that ran down your spine as Namjoon’s breath tickled your skin. You buzzed with excitement, awaiting his treatment.

“Okay, baby girl,” he moved down from your ear to your neck, nipping at the skin and grazing his teeth over your shoulder a little. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

While your breathing got heavier at these few words already, he gently pushed your thighs apart with his hands, his upper body moving in the space in between to have better access to your neck. His hands wandered over your inner thighs, setting your skin on fire and your blood boiling.

Another quiet moan escaped your mouth. It all felt just too heavenly. And it made Namjoon proud to know he was making you feel good. You deserved it and he was ready to give it to you for the rest of your life if it meant he would hear your sweet little moans.

As he nibbled lightly on your neck, his hands crawled up your shirt, pushing it up over your chest. His mouth unlatched to attach itself again to one of your nipples immediately, drawing sloppy circles around it. While one of his hands held up the shirt, the other sweetly caressed your other breast, brushing against the sensitive bud and making it stand up, aroused.

Throwing your head back, you pushed your upper body into Namjoon’s face. The treatment he blessed you with was paradisiac. If it was up to you, he could do that for the rest of eternity. Still, there was one place where you needed him a lot more…

“Joonie.” His nickname left your lips in a faint, breathless hush. He let out a breathy moan against your nipple. God, now his mind would forever replay this moment and your needy plea whenever someone would call him by this nickname. You were his rise and his fall.

He pecked your nipple one last time before looking up from in between your breasts with hooded eyes. “Yes, baby girl?”

“I need you,” you breathed out, hands still playing with his soft hair.

He cocked his head, one of his eyebrows rising. “Need me how?”

You let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He knew exactly how, teasing you in a vulnerable moment. With your cheeks heating up, you looked away for a second. This was still very unchartered territory to you.

Feeling one of his hands back on your cheek, he tilted your head to look at him. Eyes full of genuity, he softly told you, “You don’t need to be ashamed when you’re with me. You can freely tell me what you want because I want to make you feel good.” He took your hand and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, softly muttering against your skin, “I want you to feel safe with me.”

It was easy to tell he was being serious and honest. How did you deserve this man? You mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to him, feeling more at ease now. And it gave you the confidence to state your desire.

“Joonie… I need your mouth on me and your tongue in me, please,” you begged as you didn’t break off the eye contact. His eyes lit up at your words and he nodded eagerly, pressing one more kiss on your knuckles before he let your hand go.

“If you need something to hold onto, my hair is as good as anything else,” Namjoon told you, winking at you saucily before levelling his head with your clothed core. You held in a breath as he put a featherlight kiss to your inner thigh before nipping on the smooth skin.

His hands wandered over your lower legs towards your waist where they played with the hem of your pyjama shorts, ghosting over your skin. He could smell your wetness and it drove him crazy. He was just as riled up as you were.

He looked up from between your legs, giving you a very similar view as your dream had. You still couldn’t believe that this was all actually happening.

“Baby girl? Could you do me a favor?” His hands slipped back under your shirt for a second, drawing soft circles on your lower back.

You nodded eagerly, willing to do anything as long as he’d continue his exploration down your pants.

“Could you lift your hips for me a little?” He nodded towards your hips. “We need to get these out of the way.”

You obeyed his request, leaning back while lifting up your hips from the couch. All you wanted was his mouth on you.

Namjoon sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the view he was about to get. He had dreamed of that moment many, many times. In the shower when the thoughts of you got over his head, in bed when he had had another vivid dream of you in his arms.

He gently pulled down both your pyjama shorts and your panties, dragging them slowly over your legs to fully enjoy this moment. The clothing items in question hit one of the snowmen in the face as Namjoon carelessly threw them over his shoulder.

You felt the cold air hit your sensitive skin, dragging in a breath as it came in contact with the rough material of the couch. You needed release desperately right now, even little things like these throwing you off. You sank back into the couch a little.

Heartbeat strumming in his ears, Namjoon’s gaze wandered between your legs, laying eyes on your glistening folds for the first time. It was a sight to behold, at least for him. “Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, dragging one hand through his hair while lowering back down between your legs.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered while pushing his arms under your legs and pulling them up on his shoulders so he could get better access. You relaxed your upper body on the backrest while shifting your hips up to the edge of the couch so that not only you were comfortable, but it would also be easier for Namjoon.

He gave you one last smile before pressing his head between your legs, his hair pleasantly tickling the inner skin of your thighs. You could feel hot puffs of breath hitting your sensitive folds, making you shiver around him. He hummed lightly, pleased at your reaction.

With his hands gently holding down your thighs, he pressed soft kisses around your pussy, nipping at the skin here and there and biting down softly. He closed his eyes, savoring the last moment before he would get to taste you.

With one hand holding you up, you entangled the other back into his hair, threading through the strands. Your soft gasps filled the air, encouraging Namjoon on.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, dropping a sloppy kiss onto your pussy. Tongue darting out between his lips, he took a long lick along your glistening folds. You tasted so good, he was glad that you would be the first meal of his day besides the coffee.

A strangled moan reached his hair and he opened his eyes to watch you throw your head back in pleasure. You looked like a goddess in the dim light of the morning and the fairy lights, the sinful image burned into his mind forever.

One of his hands reached around your leg to spread your folds for him, your clit coming into view. He latched his mouth onto it, sucking it in like a starved man.

Waves of pleasure rolled over you, feet pressing down on Namjoon’s back. If he kept this up, you would be falling apart in mere minutes. Your hands tugged on his hair, urging him to continue his treatment of your pussy. “Don’t stop,” you breathed out.

He replaced his lips with his thumb, caressing your bundle of nerves while his mouth moved further down. His tongue hungrily lapped at your walls, desperate to catch every taste it could get.

Your hips moved on your own as they pressed themselves against his face willingly, desperate for a release. You could feel your orgasm slowly approaching as Namjoon worked his magic on you.

As his tongue found your entrance, he slowly pushed it inside, before swirling it around a little. You gasped for air as you could feel it massaging your walls, back arching up from the couch. After letting you adjust to the feeling of his tongue inside you, he started darting it in and out at a rapid pace, thumb still fumbling your clit.

His nickname fell from your lips like a waterfall, wonderful music to his ears. You begged him not to stop, promises of you being close spurred him on, going down on you even faster. He could feel his rock-hard cock straining against his pyjama pants, begging to be released. But it was not yet the time.

He needed you to cum all over his tongue first and, hell, he would make sure of that. Feeling your walls contracting around his tongue, he put a little more pressure on your clit, circling and rubbing it gently with his fingers, trying to take you over the edge. You were almost there, he could feel it.

“Joonie, fuck, I am-” The sentence got lost between a heavy mess of moans and whimpers as you finally came with one last stroke around Namjoon’s tongue. You closed your eyes, orgasm blazing through your body in pleasurable waves.

Namjoon lapped up everything he could get, guiding you through your orgasm. As the moans and the whimpers lessened, his mouth, albeit grudgingly, detached from your folds, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before he looked up about you through his lashes.

As you looked down, you were met with a very vivid image of your last night’s dream as Namjoon’s skin glowed from your juices that were smeared all around his mouth. His hair had fallen into his eyes, not able to hide the playful glint in his eyes. His cheeks were a flushed red, chest heaving for air.

“That was… amazing,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek, thumb caressing the hot skin. You leaned over him, stealing a kiss and tasting yourself on his tongue. “Thank you.”

Namjoon chuckled lightly, taking pride in making you feel so good. He nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your delicate scent. “I think we both actually have someone else to thank.” Both of your gazes fell onto the book that still laid open on the coffee table.

You grinned from ear to ear at his words. “Well, thank you, Santa, I guess then? For helping us idiots?” Both of you couldn’t hold in your laughter at the situation. What a naughty Christmas it had been for sure!

Quietness settled over the two of you for a minute as you enjoyed each other’s company. As Namjoon slowly got up from his kneeling position, you noticed his hard manhood through his pants. Licking your lips, you felt yourself getting wet again. Your hunger for Namjoon had only just awakened.

“How about… a shower?” you proposed, cocking a head at Namjoon. “I think it’s time I’ll take care of you.” Pushing yourself up from the couch, you let your hands roam freely over his upper body.

Namjoon snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you against him. “As if I could say no to that.” You could feel his cock through the soft fabric of his pants pressing against your thigh. Namjoon leaned down, his lips against your ear.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered as he softly started kissing you again under the shining lights of the fairy lights and a mistletoe magically grew down from the ceiling. Santa has his way in fulfilling wishes…

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Ivory Kisses

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: A moment together leads to close encounters.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: mild angst, anxiety, fluff, kissing

The piano.

It was a gorgeously sleek and utterly elegant instrument, producing an equally beautiful melody each and every time it’s played. It is an instrument that Draco has come to know very well over the span of his life, one he’s come to seek solace in. He can play a myriad of songs, whether they’re classics on paper or ones he had thought of himself; he could play them with a well practiced ease after years of perfecting the very talent ever since he had been a small boy.

His mother had made him begin to take lessons at the age of six years old; it was customary that he was musically talented amongst many other assets and strengths most of which he hadn’t really enjoyed. But, as of late, it became more than just a hobby that he’d once pushed to the very back of his mind. Much to many’s surprise it’d quickly become a habit he’d made when his mind would wander to more undesirable places when others would be sleeping peacefully. He found that to be the case more often than not anymore, though most of his sleepless nights are routinely spoken for each and every time you’re there.

The piano is what you’d heard softly as you navigated the familiar darkened corridor, illuminated only by the soft yet broken beams of moonlight streaming through the old latticed windows. You really ought not be there, and you remind yourself of that very fact every time you’d apparate to the manor. You weren’t exactly cared for by Lucius Malfoy, actually, you knew you weren’t. It was abundantly clear that you had been quite the opposite of him and that simply wasn’t acceptable in his perception of who is right and wrong for his son. He considered you a threat to the proper continuation of the Malfoy name and he was determined to make that known with each passing day should he sense Draco still thinks about you. It did not matter that you loved his son, it would never matter. But you didn’t let that pull you apart.

Each press of the keys had become less faint and more distinct than the last the closer you had gotten to the room you knew quite well in that grand estate, and it was only a matter of moments before you found yourself standing outside of the library. You stood there only briefly as you looked over your shoulder once more, the long hallway remaining as empty as you’d hoped it to be, as empty as you could possibly see in the night. Your lingering glance then shifted ahead of you as you twisted the metal doorknob and slipped into the grand room through one of the mahogany double doors. It closed with a creak not quite loud enough to be concerned about.

The library at Malfoy Manor was almost one to rival the one at Hogwarts; matching mahogany shelves took up residence in the large space, housed with dusty books of varying sizes on all things magic though they had remained untouched for the most part. You will admit, you had seen a collection of romance novels that Draco had mentioned were his mother’s. A small stone statue sat at the end of every other shelf, the moon bringing forth their every contour and curve—every crack and chip as they age with everything else. The smell of the aged books and the distant scent of the old and unlit cinnamon candle was constant in the room. Draco had bought it at Hogsmeade in fifth year for no other reason than to enjoy it for himself, he was the only person who frequented this part of the manor after all.

Even amongst all of the grand and alluring scenery the most noticeable thing was the grand piano seated in the far corner of the space and the mess of icy blonde hair belonging to the boy that sat before it. The song he’d been playing was rather familiar to you, and had slowed and quieted as he sat up a bit straighter. He knew it was you, he always knew.

To him, it seems as though everything shifts when you enter a room whether you realize that very fact or not. It’s as if everything becomes lighter, becomes far better than when you are gone. He’s always drawn to you and perhaps that’s why.

“It’s like you’re looking for trouble,” he says, turning his head.

You’re quiet for a moment, a grin tugging at your lips as you roll your eyes and he begins to wonder if you’re really there. “Do you know me to be any different?”

The nerves in his stomach settle just as quickly as they arise at the sound of your voice and you walk over to him. The blazer of his suit is in a crumpled heap on the window sill, his tie loosened considerably and the top two buttons of his matching black dress shirt have been undone. He looks at you then, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards immediately in the softest of smiles reserved only for you.

“As much as I’d wish to say otherwise, no I don’t, love,” he says with a quiet laugh.

It was true though, he really wished sometimes that you hadn’t been quite as bold as you were. He supposes he desires to have the kind of confidence that you hold, he knows he does but he knows it just isn’t so. It is something he loves about you and hates all the same, for such a trait gives with it the opportunity to run into a trouble he longs for you to stay away from. His father.

He takes your hand and tugs you to sit on the black velvet bench with him, a kiss press tenderly to your cheek first. He brings his other to settle just above your jaw, his fingers splaying across your rapidly flushing skin as his lips press on yours. Each and every kiss had sent a swirl of butterflies to flutter around in your stomach as if it were the very first time, and you were beginning to think that would be the case every time after that. Draco just had that effect, not that you’d ever make him aware of it.

“Hi,” he whispers against your lips, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “I missed you.”

You were still partially in a daze from his kiss, from the warmth of his breath against your lips and the brush of his hair against your forehead. Or even the cold of his ring against your cheek that sent a shiver through you. You were distracted, almost too much to hear his words.

But you had, and the way the corner of your mouth tugs up is indicative of the quip sitting on the very tip of your tongue. “You always miss me, Draco.”

He rolls his eyes then, his hand falling to his lap as he pulls away from you and tries valiantly to hide his smile with a frown. It was an effort that proved to be futile the moment he looked at you again, and he couldn’t refrain from kissing you lightly once more.

“Must you always tease me when I’m being sincere?” He asks, his grin in his words.

“Yes, I must,” you say, reaching up to brush the hair out his eyes. It was clear he’d run his hands through it more than a few times, very telling of the fact that his mind was busy with something. Something you didn’t know.

You were right in your assumptions even if you weren’t fully aware of it; his mind was indeed full with thoughts of the same thing over and over. Thoughts of you. He wished that he could say they were entirely pleasant, that they were daydreams of good things and not at all bad, but he knows that they’re not. He knows of his fathers strong disliking of you and he doesn’t know how to handle that as of yet.

As seventh year rapidly works towards its ending, the worry only builds in his mind of what will happen. Of what will be his future with you, if there will be a future. He’s far too aware of the fact that his father will stop at next to nothing to secure his good graces with the Dark Lord, to remain in good standing in the society Draco has come to want to be distant from. He knows that once spring break is over things will be all the more difficult, but he refuses to tell you for your sake. Refuses to give you another reason to be bolder than your own good. He would rather stuff it down and pretend as though he’s just fine if it meant you didn’t worry. He’s used to masking his emotions after all.

“Can you teach me to play?” You ask softly, pulling his attention to you as your smirk returns. “If I recall correctly, you are quite good.”

He shakes his head as he looks away and smiles, fortunate that it’s far too dimly lit for you to see the pale crimson that’s burning in his cheeks. You’re the only person that can draw a blush from him and he’s determined to keep that knowledge from you. But, he only sighs with a lingering grin as he nods.

He scoots closer to you then, flipping the page of the sheet music perched just above the keys to a simpler song you presume. His hands soon settle over yours, his fingers entwining with your own slightly as the hover over the keys. His eyes flicker only briefly to the page in front of him, already well versed in the song that’s printed on the paper as he presses your fingers against the keys.

You look to him fleetingly, at the way his hair dips out of its usual pristine place and over his forehead. At the way his brows furrow slightly, or the way he’s ever so gentle as he teaches you something you aren’t entirely paying attention to at that moment. But as you focus your eyes back in your joined hands his head soon rests against yours, the cold metal of his ring pressing against your knuckles.

“Are you paying attention?” He murmurs after a minute or two, looking at you.

You simply nod, and you’re becoming increasingly aware that he knew you had been far too distracted for your answer to be remotely true. Could tell by the way you stifled your yawn.

“No you’re not, darling,” he chuckles, shaking his head fondly as he smiles, kissing your cheek. “Go in then, try it.”

You look at him then, eyes widened a fraction as you bite the inside of your cheek. He nods towards the piano as he lifts his hands from yours, a more teasing grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Your stare lingers on him as you squint, your smile becoming increasingly more evident as was the burn in your cheeks. It was obvious that you’d been far more focused on him than the very song you’d barely even half heard. And you were sure that even if you had given it your full attention, you’d still sound absolutely pitiful compared to what he had just taught you a minute before.

But you had still tried.

You rest your hands over ivory keys, off by two or three or four and he knew it immediately but chose to sit back and watch it happen. Even in your distraction you knew, the moment you pressed them yourself that time you knew it’d been far off tune. You knew it most certainly did not sound how it should have.

But you went with it.

You went with it as you played a song so distant to the original it was comical, though at times you were beginning to think you were totally getting the hang of it. At times you were certain that the string of notes you’d produced had actually sounded something close to that of a melody. It may not have been the one expected, but it still was one, and you counted that as an achievement in and of itself.

He couldn’t help but let his gaze fall upon you as you sat with him, admiring you with a certain love in his heart that scared him as you pressed miscellaneous ivory keys in a melody that doesn’t quite work. The way your brows furrowed in concentration, and the way you smiled softly when you think you finally got it down. You hadn’t.

He takes in the way the moonlight casts softly on your skin, glowing lightly across your cheeks and the curve of your nose. The shadows of your lashes splaying across your skin and sparking in your eyes each and every time you look at him with a look so fond he doesn’t feel he deserves it. You were radiant with no effort, kind without second thought. You were everything he’d hoped to be, but he’d settle for admiring in that very moment.

He reached over and placed his hands over yours, effective in stopping you from playing. Your attention is pulled to him at the action, a curious smile on your face that only widens at the sight of his.

“What is it?” The corner of his mouth quirks up at the question, a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“I suppose I was wrong,” he starts, your brows furrowing as he squeezes your hand. “You’re not good at everything after all.”

Your eyes narrow immediately and your nose scrunches at his words, a scoff soon to follow as you lay a swat on his shoulder lightly. But before you could protest any further at his very true counter his hand enveloped yours once more and pulled you close, your frown still on your lips.

“Must you always tease me?” You ask, repeating his earlier words as his nose bumps against yours.

“Yes, love, I must.”

His lips are on yours in an instant, his smile pressing against your own as his thumb swiped across your cheek in a brief yet tender action. The ever familiar butterflies return to wreak their havoc within you as you bask in the moment. No matter if it was your first kiss or your millionth, the first time he’d held your hand and touched foreheads or the billionth. Each and every single moment seemed to spark within you in a way that would never get old, not even with each passing day or minute or second. It was absolutely heart melting, something both thrilling and terrifying all the same to feel so strongly for someone.

Though you knew all was far too well, knew it as you heard the distinct click distantly behind you.

A distracted kiss was pressed to the corner of your mouth before you stilled to listen closer, the clear tap of his fathers dreaded walking stick having sounded once more. Your eyes widen as Draco swallows thickly, and he’s quick to grasp your hand and tug you with him behind a shelf of dusty leather bound books, gold lettering on their spines. You’d nearly tripped over your own feet as your heart pounded at the sudden thrill, Draco’s finger over his lips and his brows furrowed upon seeing your pitiful attempt at stifling your laughter.

His hand had tightened around your own when the door had creaked open, and through the gaps in the bookshelves he could see the icy stare of his father as he peered into the vast room. A crease sat between his brows and a lip curled up in a look of displeasure that Draco had known all too well. He’d tugged you closer as his gaze was fixed forward as yours rested upon him.

Lucius had given the room a once over from his spot in the doorway, hesitancy in his actions before he had backed out with a huff, the door closing behind him with a click. His eyes lingered on the door for a few fleeting moments afterward, his attention returning to you at the soft sound of the laugh leaving your lips. He bit the inside of his cheek in his own effort to keep from doing so, but he could help the laughter that puffed out through his nose.

“What?” You ask, curious as you tip your head back and look up at him. He shook his head, his smile showing through.

“You,” he said, his forehead soon resting on your own as your noses touch. “It must have been your terrible piano skills.”

A gasp left your lips followed by a scoff, and before you could counter his words with your argument he’d already pressed his lips on yours once more. You rapidly began to forget just why it was that you were so terribly offended in that moment as he did so, his other hand enveloping over yours.

It was then that he pressed a kiss to the very corner of your mouth, moving his tender affections to your cheek twice more. They ghosted over the line of your jaw sweetly and to the very corner before pressing just under your ear. A shiver ran down your spine as his quiet laughter had swept across your skin, pressing permanently against your neck with another gentle kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers, nearly too soft to have heard it but nearly too loud to be heard by others all the same.

His words are accentuated by the kiss that’s placed upon your cheek, his eyes fluttering closed.

“And I love you,” you murmur softly, almost too much in a daze to remember his teasing words spoken not even two minutes prior. Almost, but not completely. “But who’s to say it wasn’t you?”

He pulls back to look at you with a grin, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear before falling back to entwine with yours again. He looks at you for a moment, his cheeks flushed a pale scarlet and his lips kiss swollen pink. Draco finds he can’t stray too far from you, however, leaning mere centimeters from you.

“That,” he starts, eyes falling closed and smile softening. “Is entirely untrue.”

With that, he releases your hands in favor of encircling his arms around your waist and yours settle around his waist. Before he knows it he’s kissing you again, in the light of the moon and the dark of the night. Behind old mahogany shelves filled with dusty, unread books. Your valiant attempt at the ivory keys may have created a close encounter, but now, in that very moment, he doesn’t find it in himself to care.

It’s you.

—

Tags: @gxtitobxby @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @lunalovecroft @awritingtree @writeroutoftime @lilypad-55449

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco x you #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction

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darthkruge · 3 years

Text

Anakin Skywalker x Emotionally Exhausted Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Like one use of language, Reader is just very drained, Anakin is soft and comforting (duh), uhh comfort angst? I think that’s how I’d categorize this? But I tried to go heavy on the comfort and like less heavy on the angst bc my last fic was angsty too lmao

Words: 1.3k

A/N: i didn’t plan on writing this week but i wanted to capture what im feeling rn. and anakin is my comfort character and i cope with things by trying to think of what he’d do to help me, as any normal person does. so this is me rambling and basically just… emotional exhaustion is real and please be gentle with yourself if you’re feeling it. i tried to keep my language very neutral in this, as emotional exhaustion can come from a myriad of situations and manifest in many ways. but yeah taking time to recover after stressful and draining situations is completely valid and okay. in fact, i encourage it :)

gif credit

If Anakin knew you had a stressful week or day or just went through anything that was tough for you, he’d make sure to be there for you in the aftermath.

The first time, he’d probably want to run right over and congratulate you for getting through whatever it was that stressed you, which you definitely appreciated, but he could tell something was off. Your eyes didn’t light up like they normally do, your smile didn’t reach your eyes. He knows you so well and he’d definitely pick up on it.

And sometimes when you’re drained, he’ll come home and see you awake but still and completely spaced out. It worries him, he hates seeing you looking so lifeless. In these moments, his main goal is making sure you’re taken care of.

He knows you have no motivation to do shit yourself, so he does it for you. He doesn’t mind being that person for you and he knows you’ll do it right back for him. So he’ll make you any food you want and bring it to you with some water to ensure you’re still getting some nourishment.

He’s aware that you have a tendency to just zone out for hours on end. You logically know you have to go to the bathroom or shower or something, but it feels insurmountable and you can’t physically bring yourself to move. So he’ll gently pick you up. And he carries you over to wherever you need to go. And he’ll stay. He always stays.

Very soft encouragement as he takes care of you. “You’re doing so good, angel.” “I know you’re exhausted; please just do this for me and then I’ll take you back to bed and you can rest again, alright?” “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

Also he’s so proud of you for getting through whatever you’ve gone through that’s exhausted you to your very core. He’ll frequently say things like, “You’re amazing, my love.” “You got through it, you can rest now.” “You never need to think about it again, okay? It’s done, beautiful.”

He knows you’ll recover from it. He has complete faith in you, of course. But just because he knows you’ll eventually be okay doesn’t mean he’ll neglect you in the meantime.

He’s always touching you, too. He knows you like constant, slow motions because they remind you he’s with you. It grounds you. So he’ll be stroking your thighs, running his thumb across the back of your hand, weaving his fingers through your hair, etc.

He talks quietly, too. You sometimes have headaches when you’re drained and he would hate to make them worse. He always makes sure the apartment is dark as to not strain your eyes, as well. If the headache is really bad, he rubs your temples and places small kisses on them to help ease the tension.

Anakin is kind to you when you don’t have the energy to talk. He knows that sometimes, all he’s going to get is a hum or nod of approval if he asks you or says something. On occasion, you’re so far gone that he won’t even get that. But then he’ll look in your eyes and the love and appreciation you hold for him is clear. He’s not going to doubt all you have or be frustrated if you occasionally can’t voice it.

If he sees you start to go too far in your own head and get panicky or stressed, he’ll distract you immediately. Again, he knows you so well; he can 100% tell. When you start overthinking about whatever drained you, whether it be something with your family or friends, your studies, your work, something seemingly random, or something immensely abstract, he doesn’t judge. He’d never make you feel dramatic for being affected by it.

If you want to talk about it, he’ll listen. Sometimes you feel frustrated; you got through it, why are you still feeling the effects? If you want logic, Anakin explains that your body had been producing an intense amount of adrenaline for a long time and now that the “threat” has passed, all of that adrenaline has suddenly dropped off. That, in itself, is an exhausting process; it makes sense that it took it out of you. But if you just want understanding and empathy, he’s quick to give that to you, as well.

If whatever the situation was didn’t go the way you wanted or if it brought up some bad memories, he’s a shoulder to cry on. He wants you to get it out, knowing holding in those emotions is never a good idea. He tucks you into his chest, normally placing his head atop yours and just, simply, lets you cry.

He’s very patient with your moods always, but especially in those moments. If you accidentally snap at him he’s never angry. He knows you don’t have the energy to fully regulate your emotions and everything’s just in overdrive; it’s overwhelming. Of course, you apologize later when everything comes back to you because you feel horrible on the off chance you're not the kindest with him (which is quite rare). He’ll just kiss you, smile softly, and tell you not to worry, it’s in the past.

And if you’re in that drained, barely conscious state, he brings you blankets. It comforts you and he likes seeing you all bundled up and safe.

And if you want cuddles? Yes. He’s there, no questions asked. He’ll just pull you into him and let you rest. He knows that you’re sometimes not physically tired enough to sleep, so he just holds you. You might draw patterns on his chest or just stare off silently. Whatever you have to give, he’s more than okay with.

If you want, he’ll sing to you. The soft melodies always keep you at peace and you can feel the vibrations in his chest when you’re pressed into him.

Or sometimes he’ll tell you stories. Whether it be from childhood, old missions, the future he wants with you, or something completely random, it’s nice to listen to. He has an amazing mind and you could listen to him go on forever.

Eventually, you’ll drift off. And he holds you through the entire night.

When you wake up, you’re normally feeling better. You’re still feeling it a little, but being with him really helps revitalize you. Now, you usually have enough energy to actually hold a conversation. The first two things you tell him are almost always “thank you” and “I love you.” Then, you’ll feel guilty for making him help you so the third sentence you utter is an apology.

Anakin, as always, assures you that’s unnecessary. Then he checks up on you. He doesn’t treat you like a hospital patient because he knows you’re a bit embarrassed, but he does check to see if you’re feeling shaky at all. And, if you are, he’s quick to get you some food and water.

And he makes sure no one disturbs you. You don’t like it when someone sees you when you’re in that drained state because you’re immensely vulnerable. The thought of anyone other than him seeing you brings you extreme unease. So he quickly reassures you that it’s just the two of you. He’s not going anywhere.

Also, if your stress was caused by someone else, Anakin takes a quick little mental note. He’s not going to leave to go beat them up because you need him right now. You’re his priority. But he tries to keep you away from them in the future or, at the very least, make them stop or lessen whatever it is that made you so nervous.

Basically, he’s kind, understanding, and gentle. He thinks you’re amazing for always pushing yourself so hard. But expending a lot of energy, especially in the emotional sense, wears you out. He’s quick to tell you you’re not weak and that this is normal. He makes sure you listen to your body and just rest. He’s there for whatever you may need.

-----

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denkamis · 3 years

Text

bnha characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! some swearing, but a lot of fluff for the best boys

characters: shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki

notes: dedicated to @nekomanagers / @meilbox ,, for being the most supportive human being in my life and undoubtedly the reason i have been posting so much of my work here on this blog. thank you for dealing with all of my shenanigans on and offline, and for picking me up when i felt like i couldn’t. <33 i love you.

shouto todoroki

flowers & chocolate as gifts

he’s one for the classics

he buys you the most gorgeous flowers, ones that are most definitely your favourites mixed in with an arrangement of others that all have particular meanings to them

he also got you expensive truffle chocolates, and also some cheaper ones that you really like to snack on

he’s so thoughtful, it makes your heart melt

literally so sincere as he gives it to you too, has a whole ass speech prepared

shouto came home after work a bit later than you had expected him to. perhaps he got caught up with some hero work, a report that needed to absolutely be filed today or a villain that just wouldn’t let up. either way, when you heard the front door to your shared apartment open, you came running over to greet him. as you turned the corner to see the front door, there stood shouto with the most breathtaking bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. it was a myriad of colours and petals of all kinds standing out against the white of his suit. since when did he have time to change after work to surprise you like this? his usual aloof expression was replaced by a soft smile, one that was reserved for you and only you, “happy valentine’s day, my love.”

he strolled over to you, initiating a kiss that was slow and passionate. it made your heart melt right on the spot, your face erupting in nothing but pure warmth. “shouto, these are beautiful,” you told him as you took a moment to admire the different flowers that went into assembling the collection in his hands. “these ones mean gratitude, and this one here means love. truth is the white coloured one,” he pointed out, guiding you through the meaning of each individual one that made up your special gift.

he snuck a glance at you, your face radiant with how much you were smiling at his thoughtful present. “i also bought you a few of your favourites,” shouto gestured to the vanity you two kept by the door. you turned to see a very expensive box of truffles and a few hershey's kisses paired with more of your favourite corner store chocolates.

“it wasn’t too much, was it?” shouto asked quietly, watching as your jaw dropped at the sight of the truffles. didn’t you hear a rumour once about how those ones literally had gold integrated into their wrappers? “no no, it’s wonderful. this is.. you’re so sweet,” you giggled, tapping his chest as a signal for him to lean down so you could kiss him again. no matter how many times shouto gifted you flowers and chocolate on valentine’s day, you got the same butterflies as you did when he first gave you these heartfelt gifts back in high school.

denki kaminari

fancy dinner date at an expensive restaurant

the entire bakusquad was EGGING HIM ON for something good on valentine’s day okay

he’s been talking big game about some kind of secret plan he had in store for the both of you

he bought you an outfit that not only suited your style, but was elegant and absolutely stunning as it complimented your figure

he pulled out all the stops for you

he wanted to be classy, so he reserved a table for two at one of those rooftop restaurants so you two could dine and enjoy each other’s company

“like grown ups” as denki says

you were sat at a candlelit dinner for two near the edge of one of the most highly rated restaurants in your area. denki had really gone all out, wanting to treat you like the resilient and beautiful partner you were to him with a night that would be unforgettable.

and unforgettable it was.

you two were arguably the loudest ones at the restaurant, laughing and overall just having a good time amongst such high class individuals. denki was making faces at you across the table, making you choke back on the red wine you were having. “and then bakugou slapped that dude! it was crazy, y/n, super fucking wild,” he laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. denki sure knew how to talk, filling in conversations with anecdotes and playful conversation topics sprinkled in with compliments for you. he loved you so damn much, he felt like his electricity quirk was on all the time with you from how much you turned his brain to mush.

he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked tonight, with your hair done and your outfit styled to perfection. like, that was all his? and a personality to match? damn! he felt like for once, he was doing something right in his life for you. he wasn’t the dumbass everyone constantly made him out to be. he was trying to be the best for you, and if he could make you happy for the rest of his life, then nothing else mattered to him.

your waiters came back with two platters in hand, with outrageously small portion sizes that could feed maybe a small cat at best. the two of you stared at each other with blank expressions. oh no, this would not be enough to appease your appetites. each of your plates were worth twelve thousand yen, so you really couldn’t get more. on top of that, denki had prepaid everything for tonight anyways. what was worse was that the food tasted like a rat’s ass, yet the two of you dined like kings regardless. well, you pretended to at least. as you were suppressing your disgusted expressions out of kindness to both the waiters and the other guests, denki couldn’t help but stare at you. you were his person, and although the dinner wasn’t exactly all it was cracked up to be, he knew that you dealt with so much more of him than anyone else was willing to. that meant more to him than words could even express.

that, and he immediately bought you apology mcnuggets after you two left. then you two really ate like kings.

eijirou kirishima

long captions to their s/o on instagram

this mfing SAP

he has everything planned, he made like 3 drafts beforehand and even had bakugou proofread it for him

he had all the different pictures he wanted to post too

this is a little unrelated but mans definitely showed up to your house with red roses and a suit

LIKE A GENTLEMAN

your phone buzzed, indicating that you had received a new notification from instagram. after taking your phone off the table and entering in your passcode, you tapped into the instagram app and saw what had caused the tiny ping.

eijikirishima has tagged you in a post!

the first photo was an oldie, but a goodie. it was of you and eijirou at prom together back when you both graduated from ua. he looked absolutely stunning in the darkened suit he had bought, right beside you in a matching colour scheme. though the picture was in fact a meme in itself, as he posed like that one will smith picture gesturing to you with the goofiest smile. you remembered telling him that he was absolutely banned from wearing crocs that night to the dance. it was a good thing you had saved him from that utter atrocity.

the next picture was a photo of you with the puppy you had adopted together. you had named him bean, to which eijirou had expressed was the manliest name he had ever heard for a tiny pomeranian puppy. you were pressing a kiss to bean’s nose, the angle of the photo showing off your loving nature that he had fallen for.

the last was a picture of you sleeping against him during a long train ride for a mission. it wasn’t the most flattering picture eijirou had of you, but it was certainly one of his favourites. you looked so at peace, cuddling against his side with a tiny line of drool running down your chin. he was smiling in the picture, his eyes solely trained on you with the most wholesome look on his face. he was so utterly in love with you, and this picture couldn’t have showcased that look any more clearly.

the caption read as follows:

Hey bros! It’s Valentine’s Day, which means that it is my duty to post about the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating for about five years now! Y/N, we’ve been through so much together over the years, we’ve had ups and downs and everything else in between but I’ve been fortunate enough to remain standing here as the person you can confide in, much like you are that person to me. You’re my rock. I continue to find so much more to love about you every single day. I hope I get to spend the rest of my days with you, my best friend, my partner throughout everything. I love you so so much, pebble. I hope we get to stay just like this forever, and grow as we go along.

needless to say, many happy tears were shed that day.

tamaki amajiki

love letters in their shoe locker

for all the days leading up to valentine’s, tamaki put a different letter in your locker

mirio hyped him up asf to even get him to write what he was feeling towards you

and he was still nervous as hell and had mirio stand guard so that you didn’t accidentally walk in on him shoving weird notes in your locker

but unfortunately for tamaki, mirio isn’t a very good watchman

and so you caught him in the act, right on valentine’s day ironically

it was the end of a long, rather eventful day at school. you had gotten a few confessions from some other students, to which you turned down due to someone else being on your mind. for the past few days, you had begun collecting small letters in your shoe locker. the notes were short, handwritten with small doodles and even a recipe or two for you to try. it seemed like this person was reaching out to you to express their true feelings, their intimate and romantic feelings, towards you. and you couldn’t help but feel the same towards them, whoever they were. this admirer unveiled small details about themselves to you, yet hadn’t revealed enough for you to piece together a name. so here you were, sprinting down the hallway as soon as the bell went to try and catch a glimpse of this mystery individual who had been leaving you such sweet writings for you to cherish.

you rounded the final corner and there you saw him. before that happened however, you first you ran into your classmate and good friend mirio, who let out a tiny “oof” at the sudden contact. you apologized to him in a rush, explaining in a rushed tone that you needed to go meet someone. he nodded and waved to you before realizing that he had one job and tamaki was definitely going to kill him later.

only slightly out of breath, you saw a mess of indigo hair and shaky hands sliding your latest note into your shoe locker. as he turned to leave, his face drained of colour at the sight of you. he slouched further, retreating into himself. he looked around nervously for an excuse as to what the hell he was doing shoving letters into your locker. though, you beat him to speaking first.

“it’s you.”

tamaki’s throat felt scratchy and swollen, his entire form shaking as you slowly, calmly made your way towards him. “i- i can explain, y/n,” tamaki barely murmured, his nerves beginning to get the best of him yet again. “your words, they were so intimate. you were so well spoken on paper, i just had to meet you in person,” you confessed to him with a patient smile on your face. you stood a relatively safe distance away, not wanting to overwhelm him by your presence. you had just caught him in such a compromising act, after all.

“i read all your letters,” you went on, “every night before bed, i read them, tamaki. i even tried out the udon recipe you gave me and it was the best udon i had ever had. everything you said in your letters, the confessions and the other, more personal stuff… is that all true?”

tamaki, though he felt frozen beneath your warm gaze, had the courage to nod his head. “i didn’t know how else to tell you,” he admitted, hands now covering his face in shame. suddenly, gentle fingers grasped at his shaky ones as you uncovered his face to the light that was you. “i like you too,” you said finally. it felt like a chord had snapped inside of tamaki’s mind and all his feelings came crashing down in a deep crescendo of emotions all for you. it was all that he had ever wanted from you: a response.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #denkamis.scenarios

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mud-castle · 3 years

Text

First Impressions

Fire and Ice: Part 10

<next>

<prev>

<first>

Windclan had returned to the forest by the end of the day. Every cat had returned to their respective clan. Almost every cat.

Whiteclaw’s death had extinguished most feelings of triumph Sandstorm had held earlier that day. She’d told the group that they shouldn’t cross Riverclan territory when Fireheart had suggested it. But, unable to explain her reasoning with a Riverclanner standing right next to her, she’d been completely outvoted. Then, surprise, surprise, Leopardfur had called an attack against the patrol.

Sandstorm picked irritably at her uneaten prey. Though she’d totally called what had happened, she couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness that surrounded the situation. As much as she despised the kittypet, even she knew his suggestion had been reasonable. But she got the sense that they weren’t supposed to be there at all.

“Sandstorm.”

Sandstorm broke out of her thoughts as Tigerclaw padded up to her. She quickly dipped her head in respect.

“Yes, Tigerclaw?”

He paused, tilting his head slightly. Whatever he was going to say stopped as he peered down at her. His expression was unreadable, “Do you often eat by yourself?”

Sandstorm shifted, slightly self-conscious. She knew most cats shared tongues as they ate, but she'd never thought of herself as strange for never taking part. Well, almost never, but she refused to let her thoughts wander there.

“I suppose so.”

Tigerclaw frowned at that. Sandstorm felt a mixture of embarrassed and defensive. Maybe she should’ve taken up Whitestorm’s offers to sit with him, or Dustpaw’s when she was an apprentice. Anything to not have the deputy himself judging her.

Tigerclaw hummed, “Well then, take your prey and come sit with us, we can discuss there.” He turned away.

What?

“Pardon?”

Tigerclaw looked back, whiskers twitching in amusement, “Are you coming?”

Sandstorm was quick to obey, heart pounding. The deputy had taken notice of her, and she'd be lying if she said it didn’t feel good.

Fireheart had gone to his nest as soon as he arrived back at camp. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been responsible for Whiteclaw’s death. After all, he’d been the one to convince Windclan to cut through Riverclan territory after his dream. Granted, he’d assumed it would’ve been okay since Stonefur was there.

Either way an innocent cat was dead because he’d misinterpreted a dream. If Starclan hadn’t been speaking to him before, they definitely weren’t going to contact him now. Shimmering Eye was right, he wasn’t ready to meet them He closed his eyes, slipping into sleep.

Fireheart was not sure where he was, besides the grass below him, this place was completely void of life. The air was flat and silent, no wind stirred and the loudest sound was his own heartbeat. Endless fields and hills stretched out in all directions. In all appearances, it was identical to the In-Between. But, what gave the this plane away was its sky,

The In-Between was completely monochromatic. Sometimes it varied in shades of red, other times blue, and so on. The sky was always a singular, dark color. Here had various shades of purple, but the sky was a myriad of blues, greens and violets.

It was certainly beautiful, but Fireheart had no interest in sight-seeing. He needed to find Shimmering Eye. She was always there before him, but she was nowhere to be seen. He sat where he’d appeared. He could wait.

“-is here.”

“Go...”

“-selected...to...”

“-honor..”

“is....right-”

“hush”

“can....hear?”

“you...can....me?”

“...can you hear me?”

“...open...eye...”

“...yes...”

“...open...”

“Open them.”

Fireheart gasped sharply, eyes snapping open. He wasn’t sure when he’d closed them, though darkness still clouded his vision. The voices receded quickly. His sight was a little slower to return.

“Can you hear us?” A voice had boomed in Fireheart’s head.

He sprang to his feet, bristling as the last of his vision clearing. He didn’t know what it was, but there was a mass of something that resembled the plane’s sky moved in front of him. The more he tried to make sense of it’s ever-changing shape, the more his head ached. He caught sight of an eye, then six, then two, what he thought might have been ears, a mouth...mouths, and teeth, many teeth, no teeth, sharp teeth, very sharp.

His body screamed at him to run, but whatever sense he held told him that would be a very poor idea.

“Oh...” What sounded like understanding lined its voice, “I am sorry, it has been so long.”

The mass shrank, and slowly began to morph, taking the shape of something less mind boggling. Something like a cat soon stood in its place. Its height was a bit hard to decipher since its body still shifted in place, but it sported a pelt made of the night sky, a pair of glowing, pink eyes, somewhere around two to five ears and long, flowing tail.

The creature offered him a toothy smile that did nothing to ease his fears, “Clearly there has been a misunderstanding,” it said, gently brushing his chin with its tail. “I assure you, I am no monster.”

Fireheart sincerely doubted that, though, whatever it was couldn’t be worse than he thought.

Its eyes brightened with glee. “I’ve come as the chosen representative of Starclan.”

Fuck, it was worse than he thought.

Sandstorm is invited to eat at the cool kids table while Fireheart is faced with his sins.

Originally this was just the last picture and Fireheart’s lines, but stuff happens I guess. Also Sandstorm has become a much more significant character than I originally intended.

Maybe Starclan should’ve been a little more clear with their new apprentice about their intentions, but it’ll all get sorted out...eventually.

I really need to make myself a size and age chart.

#oldeye

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

Passing Through

Dannymay Day 5: Doorway

“Don’t go in there,” his mother warned. Her voice shook. “Never go through that door.”

Danny had no intention of ignoring his mother, especially since the night she’d given him that warning was seared so thoroughly in his mind he didn’t think even as an adult he’d ever forget it.

It had been dark, but not any darker than any other night with Danny’s myriad nightlights and glowing stars stuck everywhere he could reach and then some. The night had long since settled, and Danny was supposed to be sleeping and was instead, like any young child, not doing that.

In fact, he’d been staring out his window, arm balanced on the sill and face pressed up against the glass so he could see the night sky in all her glory. It was one of the only times he felt truly comfortable, alone and with his parents and sister asleep. He often imagined himself sailing amongst those stars. Or flying high enough to reach out and cradle one to his chest.

Jazz always told him that was impossible, that each star was as far away from each other as they were from earth, if not further. He told her she could eat dirt, and she got a hurt look in her eyes that made him feel bad, but he didn’t apologize because she was being mean first.

He’d been preoccupied, that’s why he didn’t notice it at first.

When the soft pink touch of the sun started obscuring the night’s stars, Danny realized he’d been up all night and he was probably going to fall asleep in class again. He turned around to quickly dive into bed to at least feign having slept so his parents didn’t scold him and feel like they had to check in on him at night the way they threatened to last time.

He hadn’t expected the door.

It was small, very small compared to a normal door. It was just large enough that Danny could crawl through on all fours, and he knew there was no way his dad would ever be able to get through. At least not more than an arm. Maybe his head if he tried to dive through it.

The door was closed, a soft, purple light on the other side painting the carpet beneath where it stood, balanced, in the middle of the room. Acting as if it was placed in the wall like any good door, but missing the wall itself entirely.

Danny walked closer, his mind off bed times and getting ready for school entirely. Now he was thinking of adventures and stories Jazz used to read him before he could read himself. Stories of exploration and hidden worlds. His hand brushed against the polished brass handle, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him, causing every hair in his body to stand on end.

He probably should have let go then, released the handle and backed up, frightened. But instead Danny’s grip tightened and he twisted the nob, pulling it slowly open, his heart beating in rapt anticipation. It was barely open a sliver, the tiniest bit of purple light spilling out onto the frame, when his mother ran into the room and slammed it closed.

She was wearing a hazmat suit, as if she’d just come from the lab downstairs, with thick rubber gloves and ominous red goggles that reflected a twisted version of Danny’s face back at him as she pulled him into a tight, unforgiving hug.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said, her words heavy with exertion. Had she run up here? How did she know there was a door?

Danny looked over his mother’s shoulder to take another look, but the door had vanished at some point when his eyes were no longer locked upon it. That was when she gave him her warning. The one he had no intention of ignoring.

The one he was disregarding now, for no reason other than he was sick of it. He was tired of the nights, laying awake and seeing a door that promised so much and had yet to be given the opportunity to deliver.

His mother would skin him alive if she knew, but she’d probably never find out. Honestly, if Tucker’s theories were true and it was some monster trying to trick him into its lair Coraline-style, it’d probably take at least a week for her to even realize he was gone. His dad probably wouldn’t notice at all.

Jazz…

Danny shook his head. If anything, Jazz would be the one to forgive him for being dumb. She understood what it was like to have this burning curiosity, this need to know.

The door didn’t always appear. Most nights it did, but only when Danny was distracted by something, usually the stars outside his window, sometimes a particularly fun video game or a good book. It only ever appeared right on the cusp of night and morning, before the sun rose fully but after the stars hid away. And it always waited for him to look away before it disappeared.

He didn’t plan on looking away tonight.

The first night after his mother’s warning, he’d stayed up all night, terrified, waiting for the door to appear. It never did. In fact, the next month, he spent every second awake expecting it to appear and being almost disappointed when it didn’t.

It appeared again, in much the same way it had the first time, while Danny was star gazing.

That’s why, now, knowing the rules (or rather what few rules he could tell from this side of the door), Danny was determined to follow through. None of his questions would be answered just waiting for the door to appear or not appear, nor would they be answered by spending time staring at it and studying it from the outside.

He needed to go through.

The brass knob was cold against his palm, and it turned easily. The click of the mechanism was loud in the night’s quiet. He held his breath. He opened the door.

There was no resistance when it swung open. Almost the opposite, in fact, like it had been waiting for an excuse. The soft purple light that had teased the edges of the door was much closer to a deep, swirling purple that looked almost like mist and obscured the path forward.

But Danny wasn’t scared.

He was curious.

He stepped through, and heard the door close softly behind him. Just like in a horror movie really, and exactly like the stories his mother told him, warning him of monsters and things from the other side.

It didn’t matter anymore, if he’d made the right choice. He’d made his choice and there was only one path to take. Danny walked into the mists and kept walking.

No more than an hour could have passed, but it felt like much longer. Time seemed to stretch along with the endless path, and Danny hadn’t come any closer to the answers he wanted.

He sighed. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he tried calling out, to no avail.

This was turning out to be a waste of a trip. With all the cryptic warnings, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be boring at the very least, yet here he was. The only difference between this and one of Sam’s ‘nature hikes’ was that Danny couldn’t see anything through the damned purple mist.

Or could he?

Danny squinted his eyes, catching something moving just to his left. It was very much hidden, the deep purple of its cloak camouflaged perfectly against the swirling purples all around him. He took a step closer, off the path, and felt the air still around him.

A voice, haunting and deep, startled him.

“A quick learner,” it said.

Danny felt his mouth go dry. There was actually someone here, someone that might not be human. Someone that could summon a door into a kids room for half a decade waiting for them to open it.

Someone who might have answers.

Danny stepped closer, and the mist seemed to gather, catching on itself and folding into a physical shape. The hooded figure. Danny forced himself not to blink. It felt like anything was possible, that if he looked away, he’d miss too much to make sense of it later.

The hooded figure turned to him and beckoned with one gloved hand, the other holding a twisting, intricate staff covered in shapes and symbols Danny couldn’t quite make out. Danny didn’t step any closer.

It was clear this man wasn’t human, or at the very least hadn’t been for some time. The only thing Danny could see hidden under the cloak was an old clock. But even then, Danny couldn’t tell whether it was something he was wearing on his chest or if it simply was his chest and there was nothing else.

“You’re still cautious, even now when you’ve already made your decision?” the figure asked. “Did you not seek an answer to your curiosity?”

Danny frowned. This whatever-it-was knew more than he was comfortable with. Had he been watching from the other side? How? Is that why the door only appeared when it did? Why couldn’t he just open the door and step out if his goal was to spirit Danny away like in the stories?

There were just so many questions, and Danny still didn’t have any answers.

“Do you actually have any answers or are you just going to eat me?” he asked, growing irritated. It had been a long night, made longer by his fruitless walk, and it was starting to affect his temper.

Instead of answering, the figure lowered his arm, tilting his head to the side. “If you thought I was going to eat you, why did you come through the door? You’ve been very good at ignoring it so far.”

“Yeah see,” Danny said, throwing up his hands, “that kind of stuff only makes you sound more creepy and suspicious, you know! If your goal is child eating you should set up, idk a candy house or something. Pretend to be a grandma, I hear that works wonders provided you stay out of your own oven.”

The figure laughed. It sounded, off, not like a noise Danny recognized, but more like a collage of sounds: a ticking clock chiming with heavy clanking clockwork all wrapped in canary song and it vibrated all the way through Danny from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It filled the air around them much like the mist once did and Danny felt glee himself, caught up as he was.

He looked up desperately at the figure, trying to keep ahold of himself and how he truly felt, lost in the sudden sea of emotion. The figure’s cloak was bunched up, as if he was doubled over in laughter, his gloves clutching at his staff and the entire collection shaking with slight tremors.

The hood turned towards him, empty, and Danny’s panic spiked. The laughter stopped, and the figure stood once more, pulling the hood further down and hiding the nothingness underneath.

“I apologize,” he said, sincere. “It’s been some time since I’ve felt in such good humor, and you took me off guard. I hope you didn’t get too swept away?”

Danny, who was still definitely feeling the effects of the other’s laughter, shook his head no. “I’m alright. I just- what are you?”

“I am like Clockwork,” he answered readily. “Though the question you should be asking, Daniel, is what are you? That is a much more interesting answer.”

Disagreeing vehemently, Danny shook his head. Like Clockwork? Was that his name? Why he had a clock, er, was a clock? How did that work? What was he? Simply what his name implied? Something more? There were a billion and a half questions he wanted answers to that were more interesting than that.

Then again, there had to be a reason he said it, right? “Okay Clockwork, I’ll bite. What am I?”

He could swear the thing smiled. “You are halfway there.”

#dannymay2021 #danny phantom #clockwork #danny fenton #horror #horror themes #loosely based off TPoH #but not nearly that well thought out #Bee's writing

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mansions-maiden · 3 years

Note

Hello dear! Can I please ask for a drabble of MC x Napoleon + prompt 38? Thank you in advance and stay healthy! ❤️❤️

prompt 38: "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

Pairing: Napoleon x MC

word count : 1K

Summary: Napoleon was conflicted but still answered. “ We are entirely different creatures, MC. We’ll be sinning, falling in love with each other. It will only bring us pain in the long run.”

MC sighed as she heard his reason and replied,” But haven’t we already sinned by developing feelings for each other? Napoleon, if you’re worried about me, I do not care if we sinned and if it’s a grave mistake. All I want is to love a person wholly. Be that a human or a vampire. ”

It was midnight when she found herself on the balcony staring off into the distance. A myriad of emotions was stirring her heart and brain as she was pondering her emerging feelings of love for the ‘nightmare of Europe’.

She remembers the way her instincts told her to trust his earnest jade eyes when she met him for the first time; the way he tried to protect her from the vampire when she had entered the mansion. As they both spent their time together, she realised that she was falling in love with him.

The longer she thought, the harder it was for her to hold back her feelings. She doubted if Napoleon saw her the same way as she does. ‘Does he see me as a woman? Or just another temporary resident?’ She thought to herself.

But from what she had heard from Isaac, Napoleon had already confided to him that he likes her. Words couldn’t describe her euphoria, the moment she learned it from the physicist.

She decided to end the battle between her heart and her conscience, one telling her to confess her feelings while the other reminding her that she doesn’t belong to that period. Finally the former had won and she decided to give it a try. After all, what could go wrong?

So the next day, she woke up earlier than ever, for the excitement and nervousness had taken control over the body and kept her awake the previous night. She paced quickly through the hallways of the mansion, searching for Napoleon. She found Napoleon with his pet horse. “Perfect chance!” She exclaimed to herself as she walked fast to reach Napoleon.

When Napoleon noticed her coming towards him, he went to greet her. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and asked, “Bonjour MC! Did you have a goodnight sleep?”

She smiled at him and replied, “ Not exactly, many thoughts were racing in my mind yesternight.”

“Oh, I see. Don’t dwell on your thoughts too much. Anyway, What brings you here? Did you want something from me? “

“Actually, yes. I want to talk to you alone, Napoleon. Would you mind tagging along?” MC asked as she gripped her skirt.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. Let’s go” Napoleon said as he took her hand and both went to the place where Napoleon goes to his secret spot for his alone time.

They both sat down facing each other and Napoleon asked, "no one's here now. What did you want to talk to me about? "

She hesitated for a moment but talked somehow," Um… Napoleon, Is it true that you like me?"

Napoleon's expression was a surprised one. Taken aback by the question, he asked,” W-what?” She repeated her question. He was sure by then that he hadn’t misheard the question. Taking some time to regain his composure, he continued.

Napoleon: “Where did you hear that from?”

MC: “Isaac told me about it the other day.”

Napoleon: “O-oh, I see”

Napoleon regretted a little for telling Isaac about his feelings on MC.

She clenched her fists nervously as she waited for his reply. “Please answer my question, Napoleon..” Napoleon locked his gaze with hers. But he couldn’t decipher the emotions swimming in her eyes. Was it hope? Fear? Or was it rejection?

He contemplated for some time before answering, “Yes… Yes, I do like you, MC”. He confessed in one breath. Now it was her turn to be speechless. She smiled sheepishly at him, visibly relieved.

“I’m so glad that you feel the same way about me! I was really afraid that you wouldn’t like me back!” She sighed blissfully. “I love you too, Napoleon!” She jumped from her seat and clasped his hands in hers.

They both looked into each others’ eyes for some moments before averting their gazes awkwardly. When Napoleon closed his eyes, she thought he was ready to kiss her, prompting her to close her eyes almost immediately. But no matter how long she waited, she couldn’t feel anything. She opened her eyes, only to find Napoleon staring at her. He looked conflicted for some reason.

“W-what happened Napoleon? Did I make a wrong move? Do- do you not love me romantically?” She asked a little apprehensively

He whispered “No, I’m sure of my feelings..” . But hesitation could still be seen in his eyes.

She took a deep breath before asking the question consuming her mind. "Thenwhyhaven'tyoukissedmeyet?"

Napoleon couldn’t understand a word, “ Pardon ?”

“You said you love me. Then why haven’t you kissed me yet, Napoleon?” MC asked with a hint of desperation in her voice.

Napoleon was conflicted but still answered. “ We are entirely different creatures, MC. We’ll be sinning, falling in love with each other. It will only bring us pain in the long run.”

Upon seeing Napoleon listening to her attentively, she took it as a green flag and continued, “ I am not afraid of anything Napoleon, but if you are afraid, it’s okay… I- I won’t … bother you anymore”

Hearing MC’s words made Napoleon feel a lot better. Soon enough, she could see a smile dancing on Napoleon’s lips as he finally said, “ I love you MC… And I’m also not afraid of sinning. For this sin is a sweet one”

As if magnets, they instantly pulled each other into arms. At last, they kissed each other softly. All the emotions they had felt for each other: love, longing and so much more was overflowing in that mere kiss. It was a sweet kiss with many silent promises in their hearts. After a long kiss, Napoleon pulled back, and both of them were trying to catch their breath. MC suddenly found herself laughing. Confused, Napoleon asked her reason for laughing.

“I am just so happy right now. I- I can’t believe I dared to confess my feelings! I’m over the moon right now. We’re finally a couple now!”

“Yes- we are a couple now. I love you so much nunuche. And I make an oath to protect you and our love till my last breath.” Napoleon renewed his oath, keeping his hand on his beating heart. Soon, Napoleon also joined laughing along with her, which was a new normal to her by then.

“I’m your nunuche, Napoleon. For now and forever.” MC hugged him so tight it was almost impossible for him to break free of her hug. But he knew, it was due to the overflowing affection and love for him. He hugged her back and kissed her on the forehead.

forgive me if this is ooc for napoleon. I don't know much about him...And yes, I did use some of the lines from his MS.

Thank you for reading!

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire fluff #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevam napoleon #ikevamp napoleon

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icefire149 · 3 years

Text

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Ten - (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

It didn't take long to get all the shopping bags in the house. With the heel of her boot, Claire held the front door open for Cas. She knew it was because of his angel powers, but she was still silently impressed by his carry-it-all-at-once-I'm-only-making-one-trip game.

Claire followed behind him with Jack in her arms. He was still deep asleep and his face was squished into her shoulder. His downy hair pressed against her neck. She kept a hand on his back while they went into the living room.

Cas unceremoniously dropped the bags in the center of the room. He turned and his eyes softened, falling on the sleeping nephilim. "I can put Jack to bed." He held his hands out.

Wordlessly, she passed Jack over, and watched Cas take a moment to study the baby’s sleeping face. A prickle of irritation made her want to snap, that she didn’t do anything to damage the kid, but she managed to keep it choked down. Cas murmured something to Jack’s temple, and then he left a soft kiss there. After that he promptly disappeared upstairs. A weird tight feeling circled through Claire’s chest. She suddenly felt very alone.

Trying to push that thought aside, Claire started poking through the bags until she found the one with school supplies. They somehow managed to fill an entire bag with pens, notebooks, post-it notes, and high-lighters. Now she had to find a place for it.

Claire brought that bag into the kitchen and stood there for a moment surveying the room. Eventually she decided to toss it onto the table. With a shrug, she figured the table would be where their hunter school would happen anyways.

When she circled back to the living room, Cas was already there and sorting the clothes. He glanced at her over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. “Did you take the notebooks? They’re not here.”

“I beat you to them. They’re in the kitchen,” she said pointing with her thumb over her shoulder.

Cas nodded, and went back to making two piles. The next bag he picked up made him pause. “Oh, this one’s yours.” He passed it over.

“Thanks,” Claire mumbled, biting the inside corner of her bottom lip. She rolled the plastic bag in her hands. Inside was the black bomber jacket with the blue stripe down the sleeves and the galaxy shirt Jack picked out. Some tiny part of her just couldn’t leave them behind.

Cas went back to sorting the clothes immediately. Sighing, Claire slowly made her way towards the staircase. She didn’t particularly want to help, but she did glance back at Cas again. The bottom step groaned under the weight of her foot. “Hey Cas?”

“Yes?” He looked up. The traffic-cone, orange sweater, that Claire dubbed an abomination, was in his hands.

“Where were you going to store your stuff upstairs: in the closet or the drawers? I don’t wanna get in the way while I’m borrowing the room.”

His gaze squished into an intense squint. “I hadn’t thought about that yet.” The corner of Claire’s mouth hooked into a small, amused smile. Cas continued, “I suppose though...that I should just repack everything into the bags again. Store them out of the way down here.”

“Why?” Claire’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have an entire bedroom.”

“Yes, but I gave it to you. I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

Her smile vanished. Claire crossed her arms. “I’m living out of a duffle bag and the backseat of my car. I’m not messing with the furniture in your room.”

Cas’ head turned to the side. “But you could unpack and use that space while you’re here.”

“Or you could put your shit away like a normal person, because it’s YOUR ROOM!”

Standing up straighter, Cas tossed the sweater aside on the couch. His stare never broke from Claire’s. “For all intents and purposes the room is yours. I already told you that I don’t need a bedroom.”

“And I thought you said that I was free to leave at any time!”

“You are. I don’t under-”

“NO. So I’m supposed to just pretend I don’t see the whole little family act?” Claire took her foot off the step. Her voice dripped with venom. “Is this whole ‘helping me be a better hunter’ thing just something to ease your conscious? You couldn’t run away from playing house this time….so why not try to make up for lost time?”

Claire shoved the plastic bag into Cas’ chest as hard as she could. Cas didn’t flinch. He didn’t speak either. The shine in his sad, blue eyes made her want to scream.

The next thing she was aware of, Claire was slamming her car door shut. Her hands trembled, and that pissed her off even more. Again and again, she slammed her hands into the steering wheel until her eyes were too blurry to see a damn thing.

Claire had no idea how much time had passed when she heard a light knock on the passenger side, front window, but the blanket of night was indicator enough that it had been a while. There was no point in looking, she knew who it was so instead she started wiping the remaining tears away with the palms of her hands.

The door creaked opened and Cas slid into the front seat. In with him came the wafting smell of hot food, and Claire’s stomach immediately growled. She finally turned to him, and Cas held a plate out to her in one hand and a covered container in the other.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you bring me grilled cheese and…?”

“Creamy tomato soup.”

She took both, and got herself situated with the plate in her lap and the soup container in her hands. But Claire stopped herself before digging in. She eyed the grilled cheese cautiously. Only one corner looked like it was auditioning to be a piece of charcoal. “Did...you cook? Like actually made this from scratch?”

“Yes.” He looked away, leaning his elbow on the door. “And the house is still standing.”

“Why did you cook when you know it’s a hazard?”

Cas sighed, and rolled his gaze back over to her. He held it for several moments before speaking. “Eat before your food gets cold. I can still remember how unpleasant that can be.”

Nodding, Claire started taking big mouthfuls of soup. They sat there like that in silence while she ate. Cas stared out the window lost in his own thoughts.

It wasn’t until Claire’s bites slowed down that Cas finally spoke. “I’m sorry.” Claire burst into a coughing fit. Her mouth had been full, and that was the last thing she was expecting from the angel.

He continued while eyeing her carefully. “I never meant to upset you. I’m in no way trying to force anything on you.” Cas turned away and leaned back in the chair. He stared at the ceiling above him.

“I know.” Claire’s voice was quiet. She put the empty soup container in the cup holder between the front seats and slid the crumb covered plate onto the dashboard. “Loo-”

“It surprised me….I surprised me..when I asked you to meet me out here. Giving away my secret location…”

“Why’d you do it then?” Claire ran her index finger across the side of the steering wheel. “You won’t even let the Winchesters near Jack.”

Cas shifted his whole body as much as he could in the front seat to face her. “I was scared when you said you were hunting alone. The feeling was overwhelming.”

“I’m not a child, Castiel.” Claire clenched her jaw. The embers of her anger were growing hotter again.

“I’m aware.” There was a low warning tone in his voice. “Don’t mistake or misshapen my fears. This isn’t about coddling you or...treating you like you’re incapable.” The tension eased in Claire’s jaw. He continued, “Those feelings mean…..your presence as well as your absence...they matter to me. You matter.”

Claire stared at him in disbelief. Her hands squirmed awkwardly in her lap. “So the teaching sessions…?”

“I haven’t lied. I want to help you, and I want to pass my knowledge along.” His head tilted just a bit. “Claire, I’ll never be able to repay you or...make anything right. I know that, but….this is something I can do. And selfishly...I’d like you to be the best.”

Claire’s lip twitched. “That’s...uh..a high bar.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth pulled into a small grin. “Honestly, I don’t think it is. Many hunters speak of Sam and Dean like they’re legendary. And….while I understand the reasons why….”

“They’re stumbling ass-backwards into everything,” Claire grinned.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Cas deadpanned. He shook his head. “The difference maker is knowledge and I have millennia of information.”

Claire’s gaze fell to her lap. She felt a myriad of emotions bouncing around her head. It made her chest feel tight. “So….this is about your guilty conscious.”

“No,” Cas frowned. “Um...uh, well, to a degree, yes. I’ll never forgive myself for the wrongs I’ve done, but my guilt isn’t why I care...or why I want to see you succeed at something that I hear you enjoy a lot.” That got Claire to glance back at him. “I see you as my friend and as my family. Just like Sam, and Jack, and Dean. And...things have been hectic since I last saw you. A part of me honestly called you here, because I missed you.”

“You did?” Her lip twitched.

He nodded. “Initially, I thought distance would be better. I didn’t think you’d want me around….” Cas glanced down at himself and sighed. “or to have to look at me.”

“Well that’s not the case,” Claire snapped. Cas looked at her startled. Her voice softened. “I thought I never wanted to see your face again….but then I’d hear through the grape vine that shit was going down...and I’d be waiting to hear from you.”

She crossed her arms and refused to look at Cas. “I figured that if Jody was on Sam and Dean’s goodbye list for the end then I was on yours, right? And then I’d get radio silence.” Claire paused. The pain in her voice didn’t hide well. “It sucks being disappointed all over again…”

“I’m so sorry. I-I…” Cas reached a hand out but stopped halfway between them. Looking away, he withdrew his hand. His next words tumbled out in a whisper. “Of course I would have called you….I wasn’t able to when things went….badly...I’m sorry. That’s a poor excuse.”

Claire rolled her gaze over to him. “Explain then.”

“Okay,” Cas nodded. “So...Dean was dealing with the mark of Cain.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “That was a while ago.”

He sighed. “It was, but it’s where a lot of bad things started.”

“Okay. Continue.”

“It took a lot of effort to free him from the mark, and….he was resistant. Turns out he had good reason instinctually. Removing the mark also removed the bindings keeping the Darkness out of creation.”

“The Darkness? With a capital D…...Jody wasn’t kidding about that?” Claire stared at him incredulously.

“No, regrettably. Her name’s Amara, and….she’s God’s sister.”

“Yikes.”

Cas shook his head. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Claire turned in her seat, bending a leg and leaning her back into the door. “Sooo the mark broke and the Darkness was released. Nice going dumbass.”

“I know…...and it got worse.” Cas rolled his eyes. “The witch we had helping us with the spell-work, Rowena, she stole a very powerful book when the spell was complete and she….hit me with her magic.”

Claire sat up straighter. “Magic works on angels?”

“Yes, but luckily not perfectly,” he said very matter-of-fact. “She calls it her attack dog spell. And it makes the victim rabid until they drop dead with bloody eyes.”

“What….did it do to you?”

“I….I eventually broke through the rabid behavior, but I was still at the mercy of Rowena removing the spell completely. And she was persuaded to do so, but it did have lasting affects…” Cas wouldn’t meet Claire’s eye. He was carefully choosing his words. “The spell might have killed me in the long term, but it did dig deep into my being and shredded everything it touched. I’m grateful Sam and Dean were there for me during that time. The recovery was...longer than I would have liked.”

Claire nodded and ran a hand over her knee. “What happened with Amara?”

“Oh...yes. Amara.” Cas took a deep breath. “After that, Amara was the pressing issue. She took a personal interest in Dean as...he was the last bearer of the mark.”

“Gross.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas chose to ignore that. He continued, “We learned that it took Chuck….um, God – he likes to be called Chuck – and all the archangels to cage her away before.” Claire grimaced. “And there’s only two archangels left.”

“Okay, that’s a not so fun fact.”

“No. There’s nothing fun about that.” Cas shook his head. “And they’re both caged in Hell so….they weren’t exactly available.”

There was a quiet pause where Claire was still processing every bit of information Cas shared. She didn’t miss that he seemed to be growing uncomfortable. He was twitching and pulling at his coat sleeves. And then, it dawned on her. “You asshats freed the devil, didn’t you?”

Defensive, Cas argued, “We….I was trying to do what was best..for everyone.” Claire’s gaze narrowed. “Lucifer was our only option. We didn’t know where or who God was, and Sam was receiving visions as answers to his prayers. Sadly, we were being tricked.”

She nodded. “So, rip the band-aid off. How’d you do it?”

Cas frowned. “I….I couldn’t ask Sam to make that sacrifice again. Lucifer wanted to use him as a vessel again.”

“Again?” Claire coughed. Cas hummed in response. Claire continued, “We need to go back to that later. Keep going.”

“And Dean nee-the whole world needed Amara gone. To do that we needed Lucifer. So I said yes.”

Leaning forward, Claire dropped her face into her hands. “You let the devil walk around in my dad’s body. Your body.”

“I’m not infallible, Claire.”

“My dad would be spinning in his grave...if he had one.”

“Yeah….let’s not tell Jimmy about that. He would be rather upset.”

She lifted her head and stared at him oddly. “Last I checked Heaven doesn’t have cell service. How am I supposed to tell him anything?”

“That’s fair.” Cas shrugged. “These days I feel like anything is possible eventually. I’d like to be prepared.” Claire nodded. “Granted all you need is to send an angel with a note.”

Stunned, it took Claire a moment to speak. “If you weren’t hiding from Heaven...you could talk to my parents?”

“I could.” His voice came out softly. “If there’s anything you want me to pass along to them...let me know. One day I may be able to….or at the very least I might run into an angel I trust that could do that for you.”

Claire shifted her gaze so she was looking out the windshield instead. Quietly, she turned his words over and over again in her head. She was still processing when she gave him a small nod. After a few more minutes she was ready to push that information aside for a while. She turned back to Cas. “So if Lucifer was walking around in…..well, where were you?”

“Oh, um…” His gaze fell to his lap, guilty. “I agreed for him to possess me so...uh, I was right in here..as well. Only, he was in control and I had no way to overpower him.”

“You agreed to be trapped in your own mind?”

He still wouldn’t meet her eye. “Yes.” The silence stretched on long enough that Cas glanced up and saw that the last traces of Claire’s anger had cooled. She looked concerned, and between that and the guilt of his past mistakes, Castiel felt like his airway was being crushed.

“What….what happened next?”

“That’s where...it gets...uh, Dean...would call it fuzzy. I’m aware that he did pretend to be me, but that was short lived. He lost my car. He terrorized Heaven, and Hell. I’m told…..” Cas’ voice grew quieter. “-that Dean, Sam, and some of our tentative...allies..they put a lot of energy into reaching me so I could expel him.”

“Good,” Claire snapped. Cas’ looked at her quizzically. “What? I’d kick their asses if they didn’t fix your boneheaded dumbassery.”

His tone was sharp. “I did what I thought was necessary.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was stupid.”

“I know,” Cas barked. They both sat there in their frustration for a bit. “Eventually….Chuck came back and Amara tore Lucifer from me. Problem solved.”

Claire glared out the window. Her jaw was taut. “Don’t do that again.”

“I don’t intend to. It was vile.” Exasperated, Claire exhaled loudly. Cas continued, “Chuck and Amara came to an agreement and the world was fine again. Lucifer was free so I spent my time pursuing him.” He didn’t miss the shiver that Claire tried to hide. Softly, he added, “But there’s nothing to worry about anymore. He’s caged. He’s just a distant memory.”

They sat there in silence after that. Eyes closed, Claire leaned her head back against the glass of the window. “Thanks….for you know, telling me…”

“Thank you for...being understanding,” Cas said gently.

She opened her eyes. “Our lives are insane.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be.” Claire shook her head. “Things suck, but I’m glad I met Jody, and Alex, Sam and Dean.” Her eyes looked sad, but there was a soft smile fighting to stay on her face. “Jack...and you.”

Dumbfounded, Cas nodded. The emotions swelling in his chest felt inordinate. Her words meant more to him than he knew how to express.

“Whoa!” Claire flew forward, putting her hands on the dashboard and pressing her chest to the steering wheel. “Did you see that?”

Castiel tensed. “What?” He leaned forward, studying the view in front of them.

“The lights flickered. Like some kind of power surge.” She opened the car door. “Come on, let’s see what Jack did this time.”

Exhaling, Cas deflated in his seat for a moment. He knew what caused the electrical issue and it wasn’t Jack. Cas took another deep breath and composed himself. He swiftly got out of the car, taking the trash from dinner with him. Before Claire could open the house door, he paused, “Claire?”

She pivoted on her heels, turning around. “Yeah?”

Momentarily, he struggled to find the right words. He knew that he needed to get this out now. “All...um, all you need to do is ask.”

“What?” She looked at him like he grew several more heads.

“In the future...if you decide that you want me around more...or less. Just ask.”

Claire rolled her eyes, and pushed the front door open. “Yeah, yeah. I get it now.” Cas followed her into the house. She went to the staircase and paused on the bottom step again. Her eyes found his. “I’ll consider it when you start doing the same.” She went upstairs, leaving Cas confused in the living room.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@nightandwine @autumnapologist

#spn #Castiel #Claire Novak #dadstiel #supernatural #baby jack truthing #An Angel's Vow #my writing #finally a new chapter

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theresnosafeharbor4myships · 3 years

Text

TITLE: Out of the Grave - Chapter 1: The Void

A/N: An alt ending/fix-it fic. Because we and they deserved better--so I made it happen.

83 hours and 37 minutes. Not that he'd kept a count exactly. Just that his eidetic mind knew the exact moment Abbie had left this world, taking his heart with her and leaving him hollow, and his quick thoughts often calculated the duration he'd kept breathing without her. He'd spent the first 6 hours and 24 minutes working with Miss Jenny and Master Mills—and ultimately, ironically, his old pal the Horseman—to try to defeat Pandora and force her to release his Lieutenant, only to learn she'd actually expired. The dreams he'd had, sweet and aching moments with Abbie reflecting on their meet cute, time in the Archives, relaxing on their front porch where she'd tried to explain why he should let her go, would never suffice. He hadn't said the things he'd wanted—needed—to, hadn't explained how she'd helped save him: from roaming lost in this world, from imprisonment and institutionalization, from his son and the myriad monsters they'd encountered, from a wife who'd never truly been honest with him. And yes more important matters: from going mad, drowning in loneliness, feeling isolated, floating adrift in a world that still confounded him sometimes. And at times even saving him from himself. No, he hadn't said any of those things. And now he never could. Which is why he'd spent the next 49 hours and 52 minutes drowning his sorrows, his hollowed out chest, and his overactive mind in rivers of alcohol. He hadn't gotten smashed or wallowed in oblivion. No, he'd needed it to last, so he'd drunk just enough as the hours passed to keep the clawing ache in his empty ribcage from swallowing him whole. Miss Jenny had come by sometime around hour 32, banging on the door so hard he thought the roof would cave in. If he'd cared at all, he might feel concerned about her waking the neighbors in the dead of night, but he couldn't muster enough decency to. He'd ignored her at first, thinking she'd take a hint, or at least think him not home, but her insistent knocking continued. "I know you're in there, Crane." More banging. "Let me in there, or get out of my sister's house." It was a low blow, but one he deserved, for Miss Jenny had lost just as much as he had. If anyone had earned the right to drown her demons with liquor right next to him, it was her.

He'd stumbled to the door—okay, maybe he had gotten smashed, for he felt her knocking vibrate through his brain—bottle in hand, and unlocked it, turning the knob and walking away before he'd even seen her face. The slam of the door rattled the house but not him, and he shuffled back to his couch cushion, dropping down onto it, sipping from the bottle, and staring into the fireplace embers. Jenny said not a word, simply restarted the fire and plopped down on the other end of the couch, gazing at the vibrant blaze as it danced shadows around the room. After a few minutes, he threw out his arm towards her, bottle in hand, and she took it from him, downing a few gulps to try to silence the ache. She tried to return it to him, but he waved her off, waiting another 30 minutes before slowly rising—why did simply existing hurt so much?—and retrieving a few more bottles, which he'd purchased on his way home from that graveyard, from the stash in the kitchen. He placed them on the cushion between them, an open bar for them to sink into. Another few hours dragged by, and he felt more than heard Jenny crying at some point, the room changing from desperation, anger, and pain to grief and mourning, and he joined her, tears cascading down his face unabashedly. Their silence made their shared sorrow all the more palpable, exchanging emotions they couldn't speak aloud, the shroud around them sucking the whimpering breaths out of them as easily as it'd done to their partners. How could he have kept silent all this time, holding in and swallowing down the words that'd desperately begged for release? He'd tried to ignore them, the burgeoning affection, passion—now that it mattered no longer, he could admit it, cowardly fiend that he was—and love he'd harbored for Abbie since long before proprietary permitted it. He'd killed his wife for her, for Heaven's sake! And while he pretended mere friendship, ignored everything that screamed at him to make his feelings known, he hadn't hidden a damn thing. Miss Corinth, Betsy, even Pandora had seen his love for her. What an abominable fool he'd been. And now the one person who needed to know, who should've heard it from his own lips a thousand times over, never would. He let the tears burn down his face, though they washed none of his self-recriminations away. He deserved every horrid thought he had about himself. They ripped through his mind, scathing him, leaving him more raw and aching than he could ever remember feeling before. His entire body ached, joints, marrow, muscles, head, chest. And still he sipped on, needing the numb, refusing the full onslaught of trauma a clear mind would force him to face. He'd lost before, lost battles and comrades and his dignity. Lost loves and his homeland and best friend and life. His world and his wife and his son and the dreams he'd had and held and hoped for. Hell, he'd even lost Abbie a few times. But never where he couldn't get her back. Never where he couldn't find a way to follow, to find, to free her. And Master Corbin too. To lose both within hours of each other...they could shrivel into oblivion right now and it'd feel better than this. Master Joe had become his compatriot, his comrade in arms against the monsters and the daily dose of estrogen floating around the Archives—not that he'd trade the Mills sister or Agent Foster for ten regiments of men—not to mention a brother and friend. And Abbie...the ache in his chest seized him anew, and his shoulders hunched in against the black hole of despair threatening his breath. He couldn't begin to enumerate all the things she'd become to him. Partner, secret-keeper, fellow Witness, best friend, confidant, companion, roommate, voice of reason, inspiration, keeper of his heart. He thought he'd been in love once, had been in fact, but losing her had felt nothing like this. He'd sat in pain, suffered with the guilt that he'd not devoted enough to her, hadn't held tightly enough to a union that hadn't been what he'd agreed to, despaired that she'd died by his own hand in an effort to save Abbie. He'd had to—it hadn't even been a choice by then. Now, though, without Abbie...he didn't know how to keep breathing, wasn't sure he wanted to. Couldn't see beyond the bottom of the bottle. How could he walk through the world, the Archives, the town, this house, with memories of her around every corner, breathing down his neck, invading his mind, shredding the broken pieces of his heart into shavings? How could he solve the mysteries of the supernatural without her intellect, expertise, and help? What was one Witness to do without his other half, the best part of him, his anchor to this era? He couldn't sit still with himself and his maudlin ruminations another second. Without thinking, Ichabod hefted himself off the couch and shuffled down the hallway, making a pit stop before grabbing a box of tissues from the hall closet. He set them down on the cushion between them and took his seat again. Jenny had stayed until the sun was well into the sky, barely any words spoken but sharing the pain of their losses just the same. She'd stretched her hand out towards him, bridging the empty spaces around them with a simple reach of her arm across the cushion. He looked at her hand, open and alone in the expanse between them, and he slid his hand into hers, both of them holding on and squeezing tightly, attempting to convey all the things they couldn't speak with words. A moment later, she slipped quietly out of the house, the finality of the door clicking closed somehow louder than the slam she'd entered it with, sealing him into a solitude he'd never comprehend. More hours passed as he'd slept off the nasty hangover he wouldn't admit he had, as he sat in the bathtub letting the hot water steam over him until it cooled off and had him shivering, as he roamed aimlessly from room to room, gazing longingly at all the remnants of Agent Lieutenant Grace Abigail Mills: her hairbrush, those heeled boots that still left her a foot shorter than him, the cappuccino she'd just started drinking again at his behest, her pea coat with the faux-fur hood that made her look adoringly like a diminutive Eskimo. Now, just over 84 hours had passed, and he still didn't have a sweet clue as to how to get through the next one, still sat in this one corner of the couch, only this time without a drink in his hand. Without so many things... Without a case to work, without his partner in crime and, he'd begun to hope, in life from here until the end, without a purpose, he might as well lay back down in that cave he'd emerged from and sleep for a few more centuries. "Crane." Her voice, soft and lilting and perfect, floated to him, a haunting sound he both craved and feared. He'd thought he might have imagined her during his indulgent consumption of alcohol, but no...it was here in his lucid moments that he'd conjured the sound of her, the voice he'd long to hear until the day he drew his last breath. "Crane." She sounded hesitantly happy, guardedly optimistic, a smile coming through her tone. Exactly how he heard her in his mind, same as he'd done when she'd been lost in the catacombs. He shook his head slightly to escape from her, not ready for conversations with her yet, everything about him still too raw to face all of the things he needed to apologize for, all of the things he'd never had the audacity to tell her when she'd stood by him, encouraged him, spurred him on. "Ichabod." She accompanied her insistent tone and the rare use of his first name with a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, scrambling up from the couch to face whatever ghoul had come to destroy his feeble, battered mind. And his jaw dropped. There she stood...Abbie. In one piece, small in stature but large in presence, beautiful and strong and...breathing. How could this be? "Abbie...?" His whispered question sounded more like a squeak, but he didn't dare try again, wasn't sure what devilry was at work here, arriving to destroy him when he was at his lowest, his most vulnerable. She looked at him, her expression a mixture of sadness and apology, a small smile of hesitation and hope playing on her face. "Hi."

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Spare Room

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: On a lazy Sunday morning, you and Draco paint your spare room.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: mild angst, self doubt, fluff, kissing

You awoke to the clock chiming far too close to ear shot for your liking, laying in a position that was rather uncomfortable if you must admit it. Rather, you were more so in a tangled heap as you lay crammed in the tattered leather recliner with the very love of your life. That was more like it.

When you peek open an eye, you open them completely with a sigh at the sight before you. Sitting crooked and near broken on the very tip of Draco’s nose were the glasses he so rarely wore to read, said book on the brink of slipping and falling from his fingertips. You swiped it from his hand before it could clatter to the floor unceremoniously, tossing it on the couch not far from you. The lamp just behind you had yet to be turned off from its use the night before, it’s glowing light a bit too bright in the windows reflection as the clock rang a seventh and final time for the next hour.

Despite the lack of space to allow such things, he engulfed you in his embrace nonetheless, his chest rising and falling against you. His fingers remain loosely entwined with yours as they had been all night you assumed, his breath puffing warmly just under your ear in a way that tickled if you thought too long on it. His hair was an absolute mess of platinum that stuck every which way it had pleased, dark lashes splayed across pale skin as his legs dangled over the arm of the chair. The flannel blanket once laying over you both had just about fallen on the floor completely by that point. You can’t imagine he’d slept for long, not with the way he’d been caught up in his own mind for quite some time. For that reason, you hated to do this, but you felt as though you might just remain permanently in that dreadful position if you don’t stretch.

You release his hand and do so, a soft hum of utter relief leaving your lips at the ever so blissful feeling pulling at the tension in your body. A hum that sure enough caused him to stir from his light sleep; that, paired with your obvious jostling. His grip on you tightened then, his newly book-less hand coming up to rest just under the sweater of his that hung from your shoulders in ruffled heaps of black yarn.

“Good morning,” he mumbles half-heartedly, the coldness of his hand seeping into your skin as it rests further up on your hip.

“Good morning,” you start, squirming at the undesirable shiver it gave you, a frown on your lips, “And just where do you think you’re putting your hands?”

“I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about, darling ,” he murmurs just behind your ear with closed eyes, though his hand splays and lays flat across your stomach now as his laugh tickles against your cheek, any traces of warmth quickly leaving you.

“Draco!”

When you try and wriggle from his grasp your attempts rapidly become futile as you fall back to his chest, trying desperately to stifle your giggles because he most certainly did not deserve the satisfaction. His sleepy smile was immediate as he looked at you, blue eyes tired but full of adoration nonetheless. It was then that you give in and laugh, shaking your head at him.

“What?” He asks, brows furrowed slightly.

“You know, for being twenty-four, you’d think you would remember to take your glasses off before you go to sleep on the very rare occasion you decide to actually wear them,” you say, plucking the brown tortoise colored frames from the tip of his nose. You toss them on the couch to join the book laying there. “How very irresponsible of you.”

He narrows his tired stare at you and your wit, a frown tugging on his lips. Lips you immediately kiss with a soft smile, his halfhearted frown disappearing instantly. A sleepy hum sounded against your parted lips, his hand settling on your cheek. When you pull away all too soon his lips press to the corner of your mouth, finding himself chasing after you for more.

He sighs in dramatic exasperation, tugging you closer and tangling his legs with yours in an effort to get you to stay, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he lays his head back against the chair. You bite the inside of your cheek, holding your laughter at his antics.

“Dray, we’ve got plans today,” you say, tracing your fingertips over his chest. His brows furrowed as he continued to try and sleep.

“Do remind me, darling, just what would they be?”

“We’re painting the spare room, remember?” You kindly inform him, sitting up a bit more in your haphazard position. “You promised you’d help.”

He peeks an eye open as he stills your hand from dancing across his chest any longer, enveloping it in his own as he drops his head to the crook of your neck. You knew what was coming.

“Can’t we just enchant some paint brushes? It’s quite easy really,” he suggests in a groan, his lips pressing tenderly and tiredly up the skin of your neck, the warmth of his breath ironically giving you shivers. “I’ve got much better plans of my own.”

“To what, go to bed?” You counter, laughing softly.

“Precisely,” he agrees, the single word pressing into your skin just below your ear. “With you, might I add.”

You find yourself melting into his embrace, into the kisses proving to be far more intoxicating than you had hoped they’d be. Kisses that moved warmly from your neck to your jaw, from your jaw to your cheek, and perhaps the most delicately to your lips. They were soft and languid, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek. The feel of his lips paired with the warmth of his arms was nearly far too comfortable and spell binding for you to want to do anything other than what you had been doing. But the excitement of your plans quickly overshadowed that in that very moment.

You break from him with another peck, his lips kiss swollen and pink, dropping to a slight frown at the action. More so when you reluctantly make your leave from his arms. “This room isn’t going to paint itself.”

“Love, it most certainly can!”

You shake your head, leaning down to kiss him once more. “Get up, Dray.”

—

With a lot of complaining and yawning on Draco’s end, you’d finally gotten him to get up and help with the promise of kisses. That always works. He’d tried to enchant his paint roller on more than one occasion but you had insisted to do it by hand, it was far more meaningful that way.

Over the course of the hours you spent, the hardwood floors had since been covered in every piece of newspaper you could find in your home, scattered haphazardly and crinkled. After the first hour, you were convinced there was more paint on yourselves, on anything other than where it should be. Countless spells were used when it inevitably seeped through the paper beneath your feet and smeared over the floor. The record in the player Draco had pulled in the room had spun every song on it at least two times over, and a good thirty minutes had been lost when Draco had taken you by the hand for just one dance, as he put it. One turned to two, and two turned to three with the addition of a myriad of paint smudged kisses pressed on flushed skin and breathless laughter.

The room now smelled of fresh paint and the chilly spring breeze that had filtered in through the open window. Nearly the entirety of the four walls were painted a soft sage green, as well as the splotches smeared across Draco’s cheek in payback for the ones on yours.

You swept the paint across the last bare patch of the wall, turning to Draco with a beaming smile as you set the brush down in the tray.

“What do you think?” You ask with a triumphant yet defeated sigh, twirling in the near empty room with open arms.

You hadn’t twirled so much as twice before his hand grabbed a hold yours, tugging you close to him. He had yet to change from his pajamas, miscellaneous smudges of green mingling with the pale freckles smattering sparsely across his chest.

“I don’t think it’s quite green enough,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear with a playful smirk. “Not the right shade.”

You roll your eyes and turn away from his touch, fighting to stifle your laughter and contain your smile. But the moment you looked at him again, at the softening smile gracing his lips and the hair falling down in his eyes, you knew you couldn’t possibly refrain. “You’re terrible sometimes, you know that?”

He dips down and presses his lips to yours, soft and tender as his laugh puffs against your skin.

“I do know that,” he starts, fingertips trailing down your arms before interlocking with your own. A softer smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as his blue gaze bounced around the room. “It’s perfect.”

It truly is. It may have just been a simple matter of painting four walls of a spare room a color that you’d been dreaming of since the day you’d moved in. It may have been a simple moment on a lazy Sunday morning. But it was perfect and something he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to have.

He knows he wasn’t the best person, he knows he wasn’t even remotely so as a child and the teenager he once was. He knows he’s not even the best person now either, not with the memories still taunting and weighing heavily on him. What he also knows is that he hadn’t followed in his father’s footsteps, nor had he done what was expected of the only Malfoy heir. There were no intentions of living in the Manor and throwing fancy soirées, no desire to live within a larger than necessary estate composed of the same gray walls and dust covered shelves, sparsely decorated with expensive furniture and paintings. As much as Narcissa wanted him to continue on the family inheritance, and as much as he loved her dearly—he did not want that for himself.

Now, he’s got a wonderfully sweet cottage tucked away in a neighborhood where no two homes are the same. He lives in a home where every room is painted a different color that didn’t necessarily match from one to the next, where every room feels cozier than the last. He lives in a home that feels lived in, that radiates a kind of warmth and love he could have only ever dreamed of his entire life. One that houses a culmination of each of the things that matter the most to the both of you.

He lives with the love of his life, someone who he felt he didn’t deserve the affections of but received them regardless. He lives a life of matching coffee mugs and 2 am slow dances to a melody unheard. With bookshelves lined with shared tastes in literature crammed together and the occasional picture frame with the two of you captured within it. In a home surrounded by untamed wildflowers and borderline unkempt lawns with deep maroon shutters by each little window. All of it encompassed by a matching wooden fence with an iron latch, the numbers of your address engraved in an old metal slab.

His parents might have frowned upon his choice in living arrangements in noticeable comparison to the luxury of their own, but he no longer cared about their opinion. It was merely that; an opinion.

“What are you thinking of?” You ask after a little while, your voice pulling him back to the current moment as you brushed the platinum strands away from his eyes.

His gaze shifts to you, smile soft and beaming as the breeze sweeping into the open window sifts through your hair. As the late afternoon sunshine glimmers across your skin. "Stay here with me. For the rest of our lives. Stay with me.”

He watched as your expression filled with a delighted confusion, one so adorably curious he wanted nothing more than to kiss you for the rest of the day. You laugh softly, smile bright and eyes sparkling as you took in the loving sincerity of his words spoken so freely, so meaningfully. What he hadn’t known, however, was the butterflies fluttering around relentlessly in your stomach and the racing of your heart. You had known of such things already, but to hear them spoken was something else entirely.

“Painting our spare room really has made you sentimental, hasn’t it?” You jest, your squeal ringing out when he lifts you in his arms and twirls you in retaliation.

Your hands settle on his shoulders as your laughter fills the room, his lips pressing to the column of your throat. He knew you’d say something along those lines, he absolutely knew it. He sets you down but keeps you just as close, his lips continuing to press upon your neck as you continue to giggle at his mercy. He moves to your cheek and bumps his nose against yours, foreheads resting on one another as your dwindling laughter mingles in the space.

“I mean it, darling,” he murmurs, pulling back to look at your expression fully. He looked at you carefully in the close proximity, hopeful of your answer as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

It was then that the corner of your mouth quirks up into a grin. You bring your arms up to rest on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the very tip of his nose. “For the rest of our lives,” you repeat softly with a widening smile, just to hear how it sounds. “I quite like the idea of that.”

He huffs out a breathy laugh, kissing you again and again, his arms tightening around you as he engulfs you in his embrace so much so he nearly lifts you off your feet once more. But soon there was muffled laughter and a gasp, your gazes traveling to the floor as you’re met with adorably large blue eyes and ever so sweet purring. Ivory.

Her once clean paws were doused in paint after walking freely through the tray without a care for much else, tracking it across the newspaper set across the floor, perfectly tiny paws pressed upon your feet in little sage-colored prints as she walked on you both. You sigh as you bend down and scoop her up, a delighted meow escaping her at the attention she was aiming to receive. It was immediate that she nudged Draco’s nose rather roughly, the action aggressively affectionate as she stood her front paws on his chest. He scrunched his nose at your laughter of the footprints left behind on his skin.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” He says lightheartedly to the feline, using your earlier words as he scratched under her chin. She responded with another nudge, whiskers brushing over his lips.

He smiled fondly, one that was soft and true.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes shifting to you once you set her down, a gust of the spring breeze blowing his hair back in his eyes, a shimmering blonde in the sunlight. “I love you in every possible way.”

You smile, cheeks staining a soft pink as your arms wrap around his neck once more. “And I love you,” you whisper, leaning on your toes to kiss him, gentle and sweet. “In every possible way.”

Draco Malfoy lived a life entirely decided by himself for once, and he was destined to make better of it than it once was. He was perfectly content with the one he made for himself now; one with the love of his entire life and the precious little kitty he’s come to love. The three of you stood there, enjoying the simplicity of just merely basking in each other’s company.

He found himself excited to decorate yet another room with your things and his combined. It was more than just a spare room; it was a piece of your home, of a life your own.

—

Tags: @theweasleysredhair @anchoeritic @hahee154hq @amourtentiaa @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @awritingtree @writeroutoftime @lunalovecroft

#draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco x you #draco fluff

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