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senfena · 2 years

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Cold War: Remedy, Chapter 14

A/N: Uuuhh sorry for being gone so long. I'll try not to let it happen again. In other news, here's the chapter where I found out I'm not that great at writing combat ;w;

February 19, 1981

05:00 A.M.

Every sensation in your body kick-started as you jolted awake, screaming, shooting your torso forward to sit upright as you flailed your arms. Looking around, you found yourself in a small, sterile room, with a red door to your left, dressed in a medical gown. How the hell did you get here? And where was here? Okay, okay, panicking was going to do you no good. Your breathing slowed as you tried to calm yourself down, simply take everything in. Turning your view down your left arm, a needle was stuck inside it that led to an IV bag. You went to go pull it out when suddenly, the door swung open, and in rushed a blonde man, middle aged, with sunglasses and a brown leather jacket.

You instinctively pulled back in fear. "Wh…who are y-" "It's okay, Bell, it's just me. It's Adler." He interrupted as he slowly moved towards you with his hands up. Adler? Oh, of course. Adler, your old friend. You've known each other for years. Fought together. Bled together. Been through the hell of Vietnam together. "Adler?" You frettingly looked to him, staring into his deep blue eyes. "Yeah, kid, it's me. I'm here." He placed his hand on top of yours. You instantly felt soothed by his presence.

"Wh..what happened? Where are we?" You questioned, never breaking eye contact. "You're in a hospital, Bell. That fall took you out of commission for a while, but you're alright now. If you can't remember much right now, that's okay, it'll all come back." You slowly nodded along. This was a lot to take in, but just knowing Adler was there for you kept you calm. "And you're back just in time too." He continued. "You remember Perseus? That soviet operative we were hunting in Da Nang? He's active again, and he's planning something big. He's gonna do a lot of damage, hurt a lot of innocent people, if we don't stop him." Perseus, that's right. The CIA's analysts consider him to be the single largest threat to the free world. That scared you a little. Were you really capable enough to stop him?

You hoped you weren't showing your fear on your face, but Adler must've picked up on it. Somehow your eye contact got even more intense as he leaned in ever so slightly closer to you. "We have a job to do." As he said that, every ounce of stress, fear, and anxiety was simply washed away, replaced only by a powerful sense of purpose. You and Adler, the ultimate team, ready to do your job to save the world better than anybody else ever could. "Let's do it." You beamed up at him as you slid your feet off of the bed, standing up with a slight stumble. That fall must've really hurt, it was still a bit painful to walk. "Here, lean on me." Adler offered as he swung your right arm over his shoulders. You both trudged out of the room, with a wide grin on your face, ready for anything.

___________

June 8, 1984

11:31 A.M.

"I don't get it. What the hell did they want at Yamantau, and why blow it up afterwards?" You quizzed Park, not shifting your eyes away from the satellite photos of the destroyed base pinned to the board. "We're not entirely sure what they wanted there, but the theory is that they intended to make it look like we destroyed it, prompting blame from the Soviet government." That got you to turn your head. "Did it work?" "As far as we can tell, no. If they never said anything about what happened in '81, or '68 for that matter, it's not likely they will this time." You smirked, glad that something was going your way after nearly two months of nothing.

"At least one of them has the decency to show us his face this time around." You muttered, inching closer to the board, eyes focused on a security camera picture of a caucasian man in heavy armor, with brown eyes and a full beard. "Do we have an identity?" You called back to Park. "Roman Gray, otherwise known as Knight." She began to debrief you. "Born in Ireland in '37, enlisted in the Irish army at 18, but in '63 he was dishonorably discharged. He was recruited by MI6 in '65, and four years ago, they also dismissed him. In both cases, due to rash, violent, and impulsive behavior." You paced in a circle as you took it all in. "Hm…and now it sounds like he's on some 'mighty revenge crusade.'"

As you mocked him, your view shifted to another photograph. A girl with a bodysuit and a half face mask, blonde hair shaved at the sides with the rest of it pulled back and tied into a braid. Something about her entranced you, as you inched up to fill your view with her photo, raking your eye over every detail, again and again. "What about her?" You quizzed Park. "Freya Helvig, known as Wraith. Born in Norway in 1952. In '78 she joined the NIS, only to leave them in '81 for Perseus." She disclosed, then paused for a moment.

"What is it?" She took note of your intense interest, coming up to stand next to you. Good question, what was it about her? "I dunno…I guess...I guess she's kinda cute." You turned back to Park. Her only response was a cocked eyebrow, paired with a wild smirk. "I-I mean in a 'supervillain who wants to destroy the world' kind of way." Her grin only grew as you sputtered out your cheap justifications, sitting back down.

Shaking it off, you turned around to sit at the table, across from Park. "Something else that's confusing me." You uttered. "Verdansk is right at the base of the mountain, why put a giant red flag over your position like that? I mean, we know that Adler's there, but they don't know we know that." Park gazed off, losing herself to thought. "At least, I don't think they do." You tacked on quietly. It was quiet for a few moments longer. "Acceptable risk on their part?" She finally offered. If that was the case, that didn't imply good things for Adler or the rest of you.

"I just wish we had something concrete." You bemoaned as you puffed out an exaggerated exhale. "Ask and you shall receive!" Sims called over to both of you, striding into the main room alongside Hudson and Woods. "We got him." Woods announced triumphantly, grinning at you as they began taking files and documents from a case book, pinning them to the board. They found him? For real this time? All of your senses went to full alert as you stood back up.

As they finished organizing the board, Sims and Woods backed away from it as Hudson turned to face all of you. “As Woods said, we believe we have confirmation on Adler’s location.” Hudson started. “Stitch is holding him in the hospital in Verdansk. That's the good news. Trouble is, we don’t know where in the building exactly.” “I’m c-” Yes, Bell, I’m permitting you to go.” He shot down your interruption. “Not that I could stop you if I tried.” He muttered, prompting a smirky huff from you.

“Park, Sims, you’re the chopper team, Woods and Bell are the ground team. Our plan is to fly the ground team over the building, fast rope in and infiltrate from the roof, sweep and clear the building until you find him. Chopper team holds position circling the building until the ground team gives the signal for pick up. From there you’ll be touching down at the West Berlin safehouse. We don’t know what condition he’ll be in, and in the worst case scenario bringing him there is better. Any questions?”

“When do we leave?” You immediately spat out. “Six hours. Anything else?” Silence. Hudson nodded. “Pack your bags. Bring our boy home.” You all split off to go get prepared.

As you darted off to your room, your mind was filled with a single thought, looping again and again: "I will save you this time."

___________

June 10, 1984

9:57 P.M.

Having to endure the monotony of the helicopter ride was driving you up the walls. The only noise besides the drone of the engine and the blades slicing the air were the sounds of your M60 as you excessively checked it again and again. Click-thump as you slid the bolt back and forth, fwip as you flicked up the cover, running your finger over all the exposed bullets in the belt, clack as you knocked the cover back down. Click-thump, fwip, clack. Click-thump, fwip, clack. Click-thump, fwip,-"That trigger finger of yours a little itchy, Bell?" Sims quipped, pushing the microphone of his headset closer to his mouth. Clack. "Something like that." You muttered in response. Even with a microphone, you'd be surprised if he heard you.

"Get ready to use it then!" Woods blurted. "We're approaching the hospital!" The chopper slowly drifted to a halt over the roof as Woods yanked open the sliding door. "Standby for greenlight." The pilot instructed, and a moment later the cabin interior light turned green. "Down the rope!" Woods shouted out, grabbing hold and sliding out of view. You weren't a beat behind him, sliding down as quickly as the laws of physics would allow you. The weight of your gun certainly didn't help your ankles in the landing, as you touched down with an audible wince. It didn't matter though. You were down, and Adler was here somewhere.

"Bell, on me. We search room for room, floor by floor, until we find him." Woods commanded as you both hustled over to a locked door that led to the third floor. Kicking it in, you found only a few storage and maintenance items scattered about, and a stairway down to the lower levels, where they kept the patients. You both scampered down in a hurry, punting open the door to the third floor and being met with gunfire not a second later, pulling back before it could touch either of you. "Flash!" You called out, swiftly tossing in a stun grenade and waiting until BANG. The chamber momentarily became infinitely brighter, and as you popped out of cover and started cutting down hostiles, a distant ringing permeated your hearing.

Once all the hostiles had been put down and the ringing had stopped, you and Woods checked all the rooms on the floor. Nothing. And not just no Adler, there was nobody else at all. Sure, Perseus had some reach, but how'd they manage to take over an entire hospital for a city this size? Before you got too far lost in that thought train, you refocused. Adler.

You both made your way back to the staircase and down to the second floor. This time you threw in the flash as you kicked in the door. Good planning on your part, as there were about twice as many shooters on this floor. Still not a problem for you, Woods, and a hundred belt-fed full metal jacket rounds. Searching the floor, there was still no sign of Adler. He had to be on the first floor. Had to be.

Rushing down the staircase to the ground floor, your heart rate began to rise, more from fear than anything else. Breaking down the last stairwell door, strangely there were less gunmen compared to the second floor. They must've been banking on you never getting this far down. Between putting down hostiles, you were frantically searching every room you came across, every corner of the building. Eventually the only section left was the operating rooms in the emergency center. It was down to the last enemy, he was wounded, out of ammo, and out of places to go. Woods grabbed him by the collar, snatching his rifle and tossing it aside. One sidearm bullet to the temple later, there was no one standing in your way.

You both strided into one of the operating rooms in the next chamber. Quickly scanning the room for any more enemies, you found none, but there was one person laying on the operating table. You halted for a second. You almost didn't want to believe it. But stepping closer and looking more carefully at his face, relief flooded over you more strongly by the second. You couldn't help the gigantic smile that you broke into.

"Adler, wake up! We're here for you!" Woods called out to him, trying to shake him out of his exhaustion. "Gah…Woods…?" Adler hazily muttered. "That's right. Come on, up you come." Woods tossed Adler's right arm over his shoulder and brought him to his feet. Filled with adrenaline, you took the lead to escort you all back the way you came. "We gotta get back up. Who knows how much longer we have before they send in reinforcements." You spoke to Woods without looking back at him, but you immediately turned your head back once you heard Adler cry out in pain, seeing him collapse to the floor and taking Woods down with him.

You rushed over and put Adler's left arm over you, simultaneously lifting him back up, continuing to trudge along together. "W-wh…Bell?" It was the first time you'd ever heard him confused. "Yeah, you asshole, it's me. I'm here."

Moving as fast as you could to the helipad, Park and Sims rushed out to help lighten the load. Sims looked ecstatic, though you couldn't say the same for Park. If anything, she looked more relieved upon seeing that you were safe. As you all lifted him into the helicopter, the irony wasn't lost on you that now he was the one being heaved into a chopper for emergency medical attention. You pulled the door shut as you took off, just thankful that your days of searching were over. But now came the big question: What next?

#cod #bo:cw #cold war #bocw #call of duty #black ops cold war #russell adler #frank woods #helen park #lawrence sims #cod bell #sariya petrova #jason hudson #roman knight gray #freya wraith helvig #cod fanfic #black ops cold war fanfiction #cold war: remedy

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hanjizung · 2 years

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♡ Digital Eyes ♡

Yang Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 2.4K

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut; sexting, filming, masturbation (f & m), body fluids, mentioned punishment, name calling, mentioned praising, swearing/adult language.

A/n: ive been a little absent because of work, this was suposed to be posted for valentine's day but i got too busy. I hope you all like it anyway, love you all, thanks for all the support and follows!

It all started with that goddamn photo, a screenshot your friend sent you telling you how cute it was and how she'd love to have one, even saying that you should get a matching set with her just for fun.

"You know, to take some spicy photos together" she had texted you along with a winky emoji, making you giggle and smile at your phone at the occurrences of your beloved best friend.

Of course, the moment she decided to send it to you was when you were spooning with your beloved boyfriend, who you thought was asleep but instead was paying attention to your phone screen in front of you.

"It's so bright, it doesn't let me sleep!" he had explained before. You knew that it was because he was actually nosy, but you'd never tell him that because you loved when he cuddled you. This time was different, though. You looked at the picture, a cute white lingerie set and looked it up online until you found it. It was cute, that part was true, but was it your style?

A hand grabbing your phone out of nowhere interrupted your train of thought, Jeongin rolled to the other side after you yelled a surprised 'Hey!', while he, with an extended arm, pushed you out of reach from your phone. "What is this?" he asked curiously, back turned to you so you wouldn't take your phone back.

You didn't answer him, instead you only stood up looking at him with flushed cheeks. Jeongin didn't look away from the screen, finger swiping the swatches of colors of the link you found the clothing item. "Nothing! J–just give me my phone!" you finally said when he finally looked at your eyes. Deciding to act, you threw yourself at him and tried to take the object from his hand only to be manhandled by him into your bed again, your boyfriend sitting on top of you, holding your hands above your head, a devilish smile on his beautiful face.

"I know what it is, doll. I could see what Ryujin texted you, something about getting matching sets and taking pictures together, right?" you swallowed, quietly looking at him. Your heartbeat went so fast, it made you afraid that it would run away from your chest, but still you didn't say anything, you only kept staring at him with wide eyes and a cutely flushed face.

He inclined, nose caressing the curve of your neck and going up until his mouth was next to your ear, and he whispered "I'd love to see you wearing something like that, babe," and then, he stood up and walked away from you like nothing had happened, leaving you hot and bothered watching in the direction he had left.

"I'll be going home, I promised Felix that I would play with him tonight. See you tomorrow," he came back to your room, putting on his coat and kissing your forehead sweetly. You only nodded and walked him to the door, staying still thinking about his opinion on the set that Ryujin showed you not too long ago. Should you get it?

You didn't give it much thought, life happened after that incident and you were quick to erase that image from your head, continuing your daily life like nothing had happened except a heated moment that simply occurred. You brushed it off like it was nothing, truly forgetting about the situation, and then time passed and suddenly, one day you received a call on your phone from someone who said they had a package for you.

Feeling suspicious about it, you took the call and walked to your door, finding a man carrying a box, “Special delivery for Y/N,” the stranger said, looking at his phone and then at you, giving you the package and turning around to continue his deliveries. You looked at the objects in your hands, feeling a bit suspicious and dubitative about opening or not…

“Why wouldn’t I open it?” you said aloud to yourself, sitting on the table staring at the box after examining it and shaking it to see if you could know the contents. Sighing, you took the box in your hands again, saying “Well, the delivery guy called my name, so it's obviously a gift. I’m… going to open it.”

Opening the box after a few tries, you finally removed the lid and saw a message written on a card. “Try it on and tell me what you think, doll,” your boyfriend’s name could be found at the end of the card, meaning that it was from him. Your mind instantly remembered about the problem Ryujin’s screenshot had gotten you in, expecting to see a similar lingerie set under the paper that covered the gift.

Placing the card to the side, removing the paper to find exactly the same outfit, in a white color, and another one under the first set a little different in black. Your hand flew to your mouth as you looked at the clothing in awe, thanking unknown forces about being home alone in that moment so you could hurry to try them on and show Jeongin, running to the shower to get ready to put your new set on.

It took a while getting ready, from the moment when you hopped in the shower and enjoyed the sweet scent of your soap and shampoo lingering on your skin and damp hair, to then facing the dilemma of putting makeup on or not… ‘might as well get all pretty for him if I’m sending him pictures,’ you reasoned, turning up the volume of the playlist you picked to get ready and prettying yourself even more, to then proceed and finally put on the pieces of sexy underwear you received not too long ago, looking at yourself in front of your full body mirror with your phone in hand, posing in different ways displaying the focus of the pictures; your body barely covered by the lingerie.

When you felt that it had been enough, you looked at your gallery to scan your own photoshoot session and choose on the best pic to send to your boyfriend, choosing one where you had your hand on your stomach, leaning to the front to show your breast and your face covered by your phone, looking for his name on your contact list.

“I got ur gift. does it suit me? ;)” you wrote, attaching the picture as well and clicking send, sitting back on your bed to wait for his response while you kept scrolling through your phone. Luckily, it didn’t take him much time, because after almost 10 minutes, you received a notification from him, which you quickly clicked as soon as you saw his name pop up.

“wow y/n, u look so fine doll, i knew it would fit u perfectly,” he answered, followed by lots of heart emojis. It was enough to make you giggle happily, so you sent another one, choosing to spice things up a little and sending him a picture where you were on your knees, legs apart and resting one hand on your thigh while the other held your phone a bit away from your face, allowing the camera to record your lusty eyes and your tongue sticking out.

This time, the answer came faster since your beloved boyfriend had his phone in hand when you sent it. ”babe ur so sexy” he quickly texted, then you saw he was still typing; “ily but u look so hot that just looking at those pictures gave me a boner,” he continued, attaching a picture of his strong hand on his crotch. You smiled, because that was exactly what you wanted.

When you clicked on the camera, you let your finger pressed on the button so now you were filming yourself, at first you made cute faces and then you focused the camera on your chest, your fingers playing with the little decorations and teasing to show more, finishing the short video with a “wish you were here” sigh, with the tone of voice that you knew he couldn’t resist.

You were needy for him, you wanted him to pay attention to you; to spoil you, hug you, kiss you, worship you. You needed him here to love him, and have him correspond to your love. You were head over heels for him, and also feeling extremely flirty because he was right. You looked so fine, you felt like a goddess.

You pressed send, and you waited while sharing a look with yourself in the mirror, appreciating yourself even more, until another notification interrupted the growing tension between you and your reflection. Jeongin had sent a video.

Clicking on it, you had to max your volume because your boyfriend was whispering. “Y/N, I want you to show me more, doll. You can’t tease me with videos like this, babe. You knew I was busy, I told you to not send more pictures so you film a video? That’s playing dirty, baby. I will need to punish you when I see you. Look just how hard you got me baby, this is all you,” he whispered, undressing himself with the hand that wasn’t holding his phone, his hard cock making it a little hard for him to pull out, but by the end of his video, he had half of it out of his sweatpants and was stroking himself.

You decided to play along, opening the camera again to film some more and follow his instructions. You spread your legs, your free hand reaching down to caress yourself over the thin clothing item, groaning at first when you felt that you were already turned on by the situation.

“I really wish you were here with me, Innie,” you said as you moved your underwear to the side, fingers delicately finding your clit, but you removed your hand, bringing your fingers up to your face to pull them in your mouth and soak them with saliva, then guiding that hand south to start pleasuring yourself, Jeongin’s name escaping your lips as the time of the video got cut and it was instantly sent, while you ignored that and started to have your own fun.

A few moments later, your phone started vibrating with an incoming video call from Jeongin. You picked up the phone, the call showing you your boyfriend breathing heavily as he shifted in what seemed to be a bathroom stall, a blush on his cheeks and his eyes clearly darkened with lust. “Damn it, Y/N, you look better than I imagined, baby” he greeted you, a smirk on his lips as he got your attention. You reacted and showed him your body by switching the camera for him to look at you through the mirror.

“Keep your phone like this and touch yourself for me, doll. I’ll do the same, okay?” he said, and you hummed in acknowledge to his words, eyes looking at the screen to see him stroke his hardened member, his strong hand around himself made you wish that it were you instead, mouth watering as you saw him jerk off for you, and then you snapped and decided that this was excellent content, moving your hand on yourself imagining that it was Jeongin instead.

Soon, you could hear gasps and groans from the other side of the call, Jeongin’s pace was starting to get faster, so you did the same, switching to the front camera again and placing your phone against the mirror, then exposing your chest and having one hand playing with your nipples while the other picked up some speed in your clit, then inserting one of your fingers inside you and gasping.

“Oh, Innie, I really wish this was you,” you cried out, getting his attention. He simply growled at your words, but his hand kept moving up and down on his length, while you inserted a second finger and thrusted yourself slowly, looking for the spot that you knew was your doom.

Jeongin started shaking, letting out deeper breaths and that's when you knew he was close. Your eyes kept looking at the screen, walls tightening when you saw him twitching in his large hand, cock glistening from the pre cum he had collected and lubricated himself with, and you imagined how nice it would feel if he filled you up when he came, which made you moan louder, and with that, Jeongin came first, making a mess of his hand and gasping for air, switching his own camera to focus on what you were doing and him telling you how good you were doing for him.

It didn’t take much longer for you to find your release as well, biting your lip and crying out his name as your body shook and you moaned, taking out your fingers and wiping them in your thigh.

“This can’t end here. I’ll be right there soon, Y/N,” he hurriedly said, moving to end the call when you called for him.

“But what about-”

“Fuck the music class, you’re more important right now, baby. I’ll tell the vocal instructor I had an emergency, don’t worry. See you soon, don’t move.” He hung up, leaving you with a feeling of anticipation on your belly. You looked at your out of breath self in the mirror, and then down at your almost naked body, deciding to wear the other set he included in the box as a surprise.

You checked the hour on your phone to see around what time he would be arriving, then texted him quickly. “The door’s open for you, lock it when you get here,” then you figured it would take him around 30 minutes, max, so you turned on the stove and started cooking a meal for when the two of you finish your activities, since you knew that you would be getting hungry after.

When you were done putting all the ingredients together, the door opened and the figure of your boyfriend entered your home, closing it and locking it. “Here's my naughty doll, come here. We have unfinished business, baby,” he said, opening his arms for you. You walked towards him and kissed his jaw, he held you as soon as you were within reach and his hand explored your exposed skin. “You look so fine, baby. I love you so much, you’re so divine.”

You smiled, feeling your heart doing a little dance inside your chest, and then you jumped at him, saying “let’s take care of the other business so we can have dinner,” in the most sensual voice you could, making him laugh.

“Well, then I hope you’re not hungry, ‘cuz we may take a while, baby.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #i.n. smut #yang jeongin smut #kpop smut #bg smut #i.n. x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin smut #mine #original content #by me #will rb later

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glilboy · 3 years

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Ateez reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Hyung line

ive had this idea for awhile and even requested it a few times from other writers but..i felt it was time to write it lol

tws under the cut

warning, this piece of fiction contains mentions of somnophilia, slight dom and sub dynamics, and general explicit topics.

Hongjoong:

You had attempted to stay up waiting for Hongjoong, deciding to reread one of your favorite stories in the mean time. Unfortunately that wasnt enough to keep you awake, you ultimately passing out and your phone tumbling onto the floor.

Hongjoong had a feeling you'd passed out since you didnt message him any "i miss you :(" texts after 11pm so seeing you knocked out on the couch was no surprise. He slowly padded over to you smiling softly, then noticing your phone on the floor and went to pick it up for you. He was never the kind to go through your phone but your smart self had no shut down timer which left the fan fiction on display for him.

He couldnt help but be curious seeing paragraphs of text and decided a little reading would do no harm. As he began to read though he felt his gut sweep, in a good way. He was honestly a little upset until he saw his name but when he read his name it was like all of exhaustion disappeared. Luckily he didn't have work the next day he thought to himself.

Sitting down on the couch with a plan he slowly nudged you awake. "Hi dear," he spoked softly with a smirk.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and looked up at him, "Oh hi Joongie. Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep." He smiled even bigger at you.

"Thats fine, it helped me find out something fun," he tucked your hair behind your ear. Still waking up you made a small "huh?" before seeing the phone in his hand.

"Oh..." you mumbled, starting to be awake enough to get it. You finally looked at him straight on and saw his signature devilish grin.

He moved his hand to slowly move up your thigh, giving it a small squeeze which elicted a sigh out of you. "Didn't think you'd read stuff like that Y/N, but I guess you're just full of surprises huh doll," the pet name made you shiver, Hongjoong never having used that one before.

"I'm sorry Joongie," you mumbled into your arm, face now red. His hand moving up to cup your core and grind his hand into it making you whimper softly.

"Oh dont be sorry dolly, just shows me that you really miss me."

Seonghwa:

Saying Seonghwa was caring was an understatement in a way. Despite his busy schedule he made it a point to showed he cared in different ways. One thing he always did was if you left your phone out at all he would put it on the charger for you. Small things!

Today though he had come home earlier than usual while you were taking a quick shower. Seeing your phone on the counter he waltzed over setting his stuff down to throw it on the charger even if it wasn't that low. He noticed you left it on, open to a book he assumed enough.Him being the lovely man he is he wanted to read a bit to see what you liked and possibly buy you a physical copy. Written porn with his name in it though was not what he was expecting.

Seonghwa gulped, setting down your phone with his hands shaking and his face now flushed pink. He took a deep breath and set down his bag, running his fingers through his hair now being surprisingly worked up. A part of him felt embarrassed for being turned on by the writing but at the same time he knew you didn't read it for no reason.

"Hwa! You're home early hello!" You ran up to him giggling, now clean and dressed in some sweats.

"Hey babe, yeah we got let out early cause we learned the new choreography fast enough. They asked us if we wanted to do more vocal practice but none of us did," He laughed, trying to shift his legs to hide his slight erection.

"None of you stay late ever," you giggled sarcastically up at him. "Well, I was gonna take a nap. Do you want to? I'm sure you're tired."

He nodded softly and took your hand walking to your guys bedroom talking about your day. He changed himself into more comfortable clothing then joined you in bed, you curling into him quickly. Once you settled Seonghwa felt he could actually breathe, feeling like a middle schooler just for getting more worked up from having you close. He heard your breath settle which is when he shifted away a bit from you.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, having the space now laying on his back to palm himself over his erection. Looking over at your sleeping face made it worse, the piece you had opened having involved somnophilia. One thing he never had the guts to suggest to you despite having such an open relationship.

He didn't notice your eyes flutter open at the movement. You only just fell asleep so you were in no means in too deep. You decided to play it though, closing your eyes and throwing a leg over his waist as if you were just adjusting in your sleep.

He inhaled a sharp breath and bit his lip now mildly frustrated at the whole situation. Mumbling a fake sleepy "Hwa" you moved to straddle the man hearing a childish sigh escape his lips.

"If you keep moving, I swear to god," He mumbled out loud thinking youre still asleep since you had always been a chaotic sleeper.

"And what will you do about it horny kid," you giggled against his neck. You could feel his body tense.

"Go back to sleep and I'll fuck you like your sick little fantasy, how about that hm?"

yunho:

Rain was beating against the window as you cuddled up on the couch with your phone in hand. Yunho was on the other side of his personal office playing video games. It was a chill day but something in the air was setting you slightly off the edge.

Besides the sweet glances and cheesy smiles thrown at each other, your screen was very much the opposite of innocent pure love. Getting indulged in the story you started to zone in, missing some of his looks making Yunho curious as to what your interest was delved into currently.

"Be right back guys," he said into the mic mischievously. Quickly making his way over he slipped the phone out of your hand, this behavior wouldve typically been fine but because of the contents on your screen you gasped and reached out for your phone. "You doing something naughty or do you just like acting suspicious?" he grinned before looking at your phone.

His face feel reading the paragraph of a particularly nsfw scene. You were now sitting up staring at him wide eyed, "yuyu please oh god its not what you think, i think." Silence filled the room, the only noises being the sound of his running pc and the dull chatter of the other boys.

"Do you read this often?" he said out of hesitation and pure curiosity, almost feeling that he violated your private space. He kind of got the gist of it all right away, thankfully for your sake.

"Not all the time but i mean, you are busy yunho," you tried to softly explain knowing this was odd territory.

"Do you...ever want to try it," he says, getting to the end of the page and looking at you.

"I can't say that..none of them aren't, nice," the air was filled with an awkward energy that could suffocate another person if they came in at such a weird time.

The two of you stood there for a second, until he moved towards you and took your hand. He placed it on his bulge and you sucked a breathe in.

"Take off my pants," he ordered, a strange harsh tone to his voice. For you guys there was never set roles, not any dom or sub dynamic but it wasnt vanilla per say so him speaking like this was new. Besides that, you did as he said and pushed your thumbs under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his legs.

Silently he took your hand then sat down on his gaming chair, pulling out his large cock. He slipped on his headphones before looking up at you with a shit eating grin.

"Sit down, i can tell youve been dying too babe."

yeosang:

You were waiting for yeosang to come home after a shorter than usual practice, deciding to pass the time by indulging in your secret world. In the midst of browsing your favorite blogs you didn't hear the door open, this event made you learn not to have headphones in when participating in such activities.

Walking in, Yeosang looked around for you and spotted your figure on the couch. He slowly moved near with a secret motive of scaring you when he glanced at your phone seeing a photo of him paired with a lot of writing. Tilting his head curiously he squinted to read the text, reading along with you until his face flushed.

Sucking in a breath slightly he moved back to the door, playing off him just entering. You noticed his figure walking towards you and sneakily turned off your phone and got up to greet him.

"Hey babe, it's nice to see you in the sunlight," you giggled and wrapped your hands around his waist. You noticed him hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, causing you to pull away.

"Hey, whats up? you seem a bit off?" you pouted and brushed the hair out of his eyes, not catching the little blush.

"Yeah yeah babe, I'm fine. promise," he cleared his throat and pulled away, making your heart sink a bit. He practically completely ignored what you actually said.

"No Yeo, I- did I do something wrong? Or just a long day?" you pried knowing something was up.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet he looked up at you, his hair back in his face. "I um, saw what you were reading."

The color drained from your face, mouth slightly hanging not knowing what to say. You thought he was pissed, was going to leave and break up with you but right when you were about to talk he spoke again.

"C-can we do that?"

A moment of silence passed and you looked up at him, your boyfriend who was typically very soft and gentle in bed. Knowing what you were reading was likely pretty heavy in his book, you became worried. "Yeo, I just read it. It means nothing I don't want to make you uncomforta-"

His lips cut yours off and one hand entangled in your hair, his other guiding you to the wall by your hip. Back flush against the way you pulled away after a moment to see his eyes wide and sweat already beading down his temple.

"I've wanted to do that, just didn't want to scare you dear."

#ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #kim honjoong smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #kang yeosang smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #kpop smut

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spikesbimbo · 3 years

Text

Drunk in Love

Summary: Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

“Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

“I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.

Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

“When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

“Fuck.” He muttered

“Any’all got a light?”

No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

“Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

“K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

“What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

“Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

“Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

“You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

“Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

You started to “walk” towards your house resting your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

“I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

“Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

“Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

“s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

“Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do. He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…” You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

"I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

“y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

“You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.

“You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

“Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

"I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them. I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of before I go to sleep at night."

You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it. You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body. You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused. He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body.

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

“Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears. He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more.

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy. Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

“Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

“Shh baby im right here.”

He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

“It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

“Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

“Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

“I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

“I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

“Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

#haikyuu x reader #issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #mattsun x reader #matsuwaka issei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #matsukawa issei x reader #tw drunk sex #tw under the influence

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tarosin · 3 years

Text

the great adventures of y/n tommy jack and tubbo

requested: yes/no

an: part 4 of the great adventures series

pairing: platonic y/n/tommy/jack/tubbo

warning: cursing

It was the afternoon before your new adventure with your friends. you had no idea what to expect, however everyone else knew even ranboo, and he wasn’t even joining you all. you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, especially after hearing some of tommys plans for future uploads. tubbo had been trying to drop hints about what was going to happen. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was excited or nervous, either way you could tell it was going to be a once in a lifetime opportunity and boy were you excited. the sound of knocking pulled you from your thoughts.

“hi y/n! sorry for the unexpected visit, i tried to call you but it wouldn’t go through.”

“oh god sorry, tubbo, my phones on charge upstairs, ive just finished babysitting my friends twitch chat.”

“that’s okay, tommy wanted me to see if you want to stay the night as i can take you with me now. he said something about it saving time tomorrow as jack won’t have to go as far and we can get there earlier, i honestly just think he’s slightly nervous and wants to spend time with someone.”

“i’ve not prepared a bag or anything as i was just planning on grabbing everything i needed in the morning, but i’m down to go with you. i’ll pack a bag real quick, make yourself feel at home. you can stay down here or come upstairs with me.”

tubbo followed you upstairs, and helped you pick which outfits would be the best to wear for the trip. around 10 minutes later you finished packing your bag and turned around to see a very pale tubbo, dropping your bag to the floor you pulled a chair up to your bed sitting opposite him.

“you feeling okay tubs?”

“just nerves, I'll be alright, are you ready to go?”

“ready if you are!”

the journey to tommys was relatively quick, you spent it talking about group plans for when ranboo comes to the uk.

tubbo: almost here!

tommy: yes! want to stream for a bit later, just something small could do laugh and the stream ends. i’ll go talk to my mum now!

•••

tubbo: please open the door

tommy: on it

the pair of you stood at the door waiting for tommy to unlock it

“TUBBO! Y/N I'M GLAD YOU COULD BOTH MAKE IT!”

not too long later, you and tubbo had put everything away and sat with tommy planning out a small stream.

“so i was talking with my parents and we can do an outside stream, and set fire to marshmallows!”

“as much as i love fire tommy i don’t think your parents will appreciate arson in the garden.”

“it’ll be fine now grab a jacket, we need to go walk to the shop.”

the three of you set off determined to get to the shop and back before it got dark, tommy and tubbo walked on either side of you as they want you to feel safe. thankfully the shop was only around the corner so you were all only out for about 20 minutes maximum, you probably could have made it back earlier but you stopped every time you saw a pretty rock.

“y/n come on we still need to stream!”

“did you tweet that you were streaming?”

“no he didn’t.”

“then come and look at this pretty rock!”

tommy and tubbo couldn’t help but laugh at how many rocks you managed to pick up.

•••

“guys i think i’d rather just spend time with you all rather than stream.”

“that’s fine, tommy!!”

the three of you sat around the fire updating one another about plans and opportunitie, coming. the conversation swiftly came to an end when tommy had set fire to a stick claiming it was to make the fire grow. you laughed as you heard his mum yelling at him to stop trying to set you and tubbo on fire.

“sorry about that everyone, but look the fire is big again.”

it got colder as the sun went down, so the three of you sat with a blanket draped over you all. his mum offered to take photos for you and you happily accepted, the pictures looked amazing and you posted it to instagram with the caption ‘i am cold and no one is telling me what’s happening tomorrow.’

it was around 11pm when the three of you agreed it was time to go back inside and sleep.

•••

you and tubbo stayed downstairs and tommy stayed in his room. the sound of tubbos alarm woke the pair of you up.

“turn that fucking thing off!”

“this is the fourth time it’s gone off and you’re still not up?”

“that’s because i’m tired.”

“please get ready jack will be here soon enough.”

realisation finally hit today was the day you were finally about to find out what this once in a lifetime opportunity was. tubbo advised you to wear sensible clothing and not wear the zodiac necklace you always wore, so you decided to wear the hoodie ranboo sent you a week ago and leggings.

“y/n you might wanna tie your hair up.”

“tubbo are you sure you’re feeling okay? you genuinely look ill."

“i’m fine.”

jack: right i’m outside so whenever you’re ready

lani: we’re making our own way later on as the hotel we stayed at is closer

y/n: will someone tell me what we’re doing

ranboo: no

y/n: you’re not even joining us how did you get in the gc

ranboo: magic

y/n: fuck off give me a clue

ranboo: i’ve said it since you dyed your hair neon f/c you’d be able to see from way up in the sky

y/n: what the actual hell is that supposed to mean

•••

soon enough you met up with everyone else and lani started recording.

“we’re skydiving, you ready tubbo?”

“WERE DOING WHAT? HOLY SHIT!”

you honestly couldn’t wait to do this. it was something you had wanted to do for a while, tubbo on the other hand clearly didn’t agree, which was evident through his whining.

you stood with tommy laughing as tubbo sat alone questioning why he agreed to this.

“look at him.”

“he’s is not happy.”

you sat next to jack and tubbo watching the video demonstrating what you will all be doing soon. you let out a nervous laugh, as although you were excited, you couldn’t help but be a bit nervous.

“you could fall into the engine and get chopped up.”

“tommy stop scaring tubbo!”

“what if the parachute doesn’t work?”

“free fall to your death.”

“y/n you’re not helping!”

you stood recording tubbo laying on the floor once again whining.

“tubbo there are so many people behind you!”

“i’m sure the parachute won’t fail tubbo, but if it does it was lovely knowing you!”

“uuuuuuugh!”

“i fully agree bo.”

soon enough you tommy and jack joined tubbo on the floor.

“look at the clouds.”

“we’re going to be in them soon.”

“hell yeah!”

“ughhhh!”

you tried not to laugh trying to calm tubbo down a bit before you all jumped out a plane, which worked until you left him alone with tommy whilst you spoke to jack for a while.

“to be fair that looks quite fun.”

“and dangerous!”

“STOP!”

“well sounds like tubbos thrilled to be here.”

the four of you sat on a bench talking about what’s going to happen, and laughing at tubbos nerves trying to make light of the situation.

“look it’ll be fun, tubbo, provided we don’t die there’s a chance we’ll be in more vlogs.. okay so ignore the black cloud of smoke!”

“that’s not a good omen.”

“shut up!”

you wrapped an arm around tubbo trying to make him feel comfortable and reassure him it’ll be fine, only to be interrupted by jack and tommy bickering about eating before jumping from the plane.

•••

the four of you went to the briefing, at this point you were struggling to contain your excitement, and couldn’t help but laugh out of pure joy.

“no, they are listening, they're just excited.”

after doing training for the jump, you stood with tommy whilst someone questioned him about how he got 9 million subs.

“I just went around being incredibly cool.. doing minecraft.”

you and jack burst out laughing whilst tommy went on to make jokes about how much money he was earning.

•••

it was now almost time to jump out a plane. it was around now nerves were kicking in, so you all went around messing about till you were told it’s time to make your way to get ready.

“let’s go gamers!”

•••

“are you a skydiver enjoyer?”

“i am.”

“well that’s always good... please, don’t let me die!”

“y/n are you scared?”

“no, my ranboo merch will protect me, but if i die can we blame tommy for coming up with this?”

“ranboos not going to believe that you’re wearing the jumper he sent you to jump out a plane.”

a few minutes later you over heard a worker say they’re nervous causing you to tilt your head and blink again, trying to process what was said.

“heh???”

it was now time for the four of you to put the equipment on, so you were ready to jump. jack started talking a lot more than usual at a quicker pace due to the fact he was getting nervous. tommy pointed it out and jack trying to argue he wasn’t made you laugh.

“y/n keeps making a lot of jokes about my parachute being shit.”

“sorry manifold should be fine...more than likely...hopefully. only time will tell really.”

“how you doing buddy?”

“i’m feeling okay. i feel my insides doing inside bits.”

“wonderful!”

you were now all waiting to go as a worker jokes about forgetting something.

“y/n you’re going with him!”

“okay, but why?”

“well you said your ranboo merch will protect you..”

someone went by going rather fast causing you to stare in awe.

“we don’t go that fast, do we?”

“no not unless something goes terribly wrong.”

you all stood there laughing.

“stoppppp!”

“y/n, i’m now thinking you should go with them instead!”

“are you trying to kill me off jack?”

•••

you all set off towards the plane, a mixture of excitement and nerves began kicking in.

“tubbos on a lead.”

“oh i’m really nervous jack.”

“look at y/n!”

lani began to record you, who was now way ahead of the others, so you stopped and waved at lani.

“BYE LANI! HOPEFULLY ILL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!”

the others caught up and everyone had their equipment checked again.

“oh dear.. should be fine.”

“i’m alright, don’t worry my ranboo merch will protect us!” you got on first and that when you realised they set you up, so you jumped last as you were more confident and tubbo was jumping first so he could get it out the way.

you all sat on the plane and waved at the camera.

“hi there!”

“hello!”

“hi!”

“please don’t let us die!”

“we’re really jumping out a plane with a dream stan.”

“this is the highest we’ve ever been.”

“gamers in a plane whatever will they do...hopefully not die!”

“Y/N!”

“sorry tubbo!”

you were currently at 2,000 feet and sat looking out the window waiting to reach 14,000 feet. jack turned to you and tommy, “i can’t believe you’re jumping out the plane in philza merch and y/ns jumping out in ranboo merch.”

“if i die at least ill look great doing it.”

12,000 feet later it was now tubbos turn to jump, he looked back at you all.

“YOU GOT THIS TUBBO!!”

you watched as tubbo went.

“GOOD LUCK TOMMY!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN GOOD LUCK? Y/N?”

“BYEEEEE!”

you laughed as tommy went.

“see you later jack!”

you gave jack a high-five and watched as he went.

“holy shit they actually did it!”

“are you ready, y/n?”

“hell yeah, let’s do this!”

you laughed as you jumped, you couldn’t believe you actually got to jump out of a plane, you waved at camera.

lani met the others as they landed and began telling them about it.

“wait where’s y/n?”

“there they are!”

“Y/N!”

the others ran up to you as you landed.

“i’m glad you didn’t die!”

“thanks jack!”

•••

“would you all do it again?”

“yeah.”

“no.”

“maybe, i’m not sure.”

“i reckon so.”

not too long later, you were all given certificates to celebrate the fact you had jumped out a plane.

“yay it made nearly dying worth it!”

“you’re so dramatic!”

•••

you thought the day was over and that you were going home, little did you know that wasn’t the case.

“were not done for the day.”

“what?”

“heh?”

“you’re tilting your head again.”

“i know it’s because i’m confused!”

“anyway, what do you mean we’re not done?”

“you know george, he’s arrived!”

“gogy!”

“GOGY!”

“can i have a nap in the car please? i’m so exhausted."

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt writing #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x you #tubbo x y/n #tubbo fluff #tubbo imagine #tubbo x reader #jack manifold x you #jack manifold x y/n #jack manifold fluff #jack manifold imagine

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slasherholic · 3 years

Text

Contains: gender neutral reader, torture, forced scarification, bondage, spanking, fear play, body horror, threats of violence, mentions of drugging.

Asa Emory x Favorite!Victim Reader | One More Chance | Chapter 2

part one here

He stops in front of the elevator. Green-grey mold climbs the peeling beige wallpaper on either side of it like creeping fingers. The tarnished doors sit locked away behind a rusting barred gate. You had tried to use this exact same elevator when you almost got away from—

When you disobeyed him, interjects the part of your brain that just spared you your limbs. You had tried to use this elevator when you disobeyed him.

But he had locked it up tight from the top floors, too.

Upon realizing that, you nearly went slinking back to your room. You remember thinking that if you went back, if you crawled back inside your trunk and shut the lid, if you curled up very tight and very small, if you were good for him, when he found you, he might forgive you. There would still be a punishment for jimmying the lock; but if you showed him that you were sorry, ready to obey, ready to let him keep you without a fuss, the punishment might be bearable.

Then you had discovered a vent with a screw loose. Loose enough for you to peel back the grate.

The moment your slow descent to the lobby through the vents began, you knew forgiveness was out of the question. If he caught you before you made it out of this hotel, you would be tortured for it.

There is not a single doubt in your groggy, muddled, drugged-up mind that you are still about to be tortured for it.

He lowers your body to the grimy floor and unhooks his keychain from his belt. The keys jangle as he flips the ring once around his finger and catches it again.

A shrill cry leaves your throat when his boot comes down on your temple.

He presses the rubber firmly into your cheek, smushing your face against the cold floor, covering your eyes. He’s not going to let you see this part.

You hear him flipping back and forth between the keys, in no particular hurry to find the correct one.

One,

two,

three locks click open.

The pressure on your temple lifts mercifully away. You watch his boots as he slides the grated rusty door barring the elevator open. When he picks you up again, he slings you over his shoulder, his hand coming down to hold your naked thigh.

There are fifteen amber buttons on the chrome panel inside the elevator. You know your room is on the eighth floor.

Dread knots your stomach when you see the counter above the doors pass floor number eight.

He’s not taking you back to your room.

The elevator stops on floor fourteen. He steps out, and into a part of the hotel you have never seen before. He starts down the decayed hall.

You pass one of his dolls. You don’t shut your eyes in time before you see her.

The first thing you see is the woman’s guts.

Shimmering in a slippery wet blue-purple pile on her abdomen like a tangle of worms, leaking blood down her ribs from stress-worn ruptures in the meat. The stench of her insides hits you like a kick to the face. You realize you must be smelling the chemicals of her stress and fear, cortisol, adrenaline, the pungent amalgamation of everything her panicking brain released when he did this to her.

It must have been recent; nobody could survive this for long.

She whimpers weakly at the sound of his approach. Where her eyes are meant to be, there are only bloody, glistening hollows.

Reaching out, he grazes her IV line with his fingers, letting his hand brush her face tenderly as he walks past.

The woman’s whimpers rise into a steep pained cry that twists her features and dribbles quickly back to whimpering when she seems to realize that he has continued on walking, and isn’t going to linger to touch her more.

He takes you to the end of the hall. You hear the jingling of his key ring, the squeal of a turning handle.

The room inside is utterly unlike the rest of the hotel. Clean, tidy, well-furnished, well-lit. The cream colored wallpaper is spotless and adorned with charts boasting detailed portraits of various species of beetle and moth. All the furniture looks new.

He carries you to a long leather ottoman and starts to push it with his leg away from its resting place next to a bookshelf. In the middle of the room, he deposits you belly-down across it. Your arms fall limply to both sides. He steps out of view.

A radio crackles and sputters to life. Some melody plays faintly over it.

This is some sort of study.

You stare blankly at a locked glass case on the opposite end of the room as he moves somewhere behind you where you can’t see him. Sat upon the shelves are rows upon rows of insects preserved in jars of orange fluid.

Except some of them are very clearly not insects.

You shut your eyes, not caring to see what’s in those jars. Behind you, he opens a cabinet door, and starts to push a trolley cart with a squeaky wheel. You open your eyes when he gets too close.

There are two trays atop the cart. One white, one silver. You watch him lift a thin tool out of the silver tray, turning it over in the light, and your heart falls into your stomach.

It’s a scalpel. He’s holding a scalpel.

You launch right back into your desperate pleading frenzy.

Wait, wait, no no no, I’ll be good, I’ll be good—

The words come out as pitiful, slurred garbling. The drug has paralyzed your tongue.

His gloved hand shoots out. He seizes the underside of your jaw, cruelly. The pleading catches in your throat.

“No more of that.”

The order is stern, yet his voice remains unnervingly steady. It is the first you’ve ever heard him raise it above a whisper.

Fresh tears prick the corners of your eyes. You obey him without thought and fall silent.

From a desk in the corner, he pulls up a three-legged stool, and sits down next to you, knees level with your face. The simple proximity to him has your heart beating out of your chest. He wipes your back down with something cold and then his fingers alight to trace your shoulders gingerly. He rap-tap-taps the scalpel he’s about to use on you against the leg of the stool.

Steadying you with a hand pressed flat on your back, he starts to work.

The bite of the scalpel is unforgiving. Your tears come fast. Before long you’re shrieking, sobbing, struggling to breathe. He doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t tell you to be quiet. His incisions are swift and skillful. You can feel the little flicks of his wrist as the blade sinks in and out of your back.

You see him wiping thin bloody slivers into the white tray on the rolling table, pieces of you. The sensation of the warm blood streaming down your back and shoulders turns you clammy and cold. He wipes the runny red up with a cloth from the trolley before it gets on his ottoman.

When it is over, your mind is soup.

You gape like a fish as you suck in shuddery breaths and stare blankly at his gloved hands as he sets the dripping scalpel down in its tray again, passing it through the light once more, watching it shimmer with your blood.

Your body flinches reflexively as he stands suddenly from the stool. Straddling you over the ottoman, he rearranges your legs to make room for him. His shins graze the back of your thighs as he sits. Pressing his palm flat against the small of your back, he traces your skin gingerly, examining his work. You whimper and cry. He pats your cheek.

Getting up, he goes to his desk. When he comes back you hear the click of a camera, the whirr of a picture printing. With two fingers, he slides a polaroid photo onto the ottoman, and tells you to look.

You tremble and cry. You don’t want to.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

You obey him and look.

You start choking on your own sobs.

Butterfly wings. He’s given you butterfly wings. Wings with intricate, skillful patterns. Their graceful swooping tails reach all the way to your lower back. Bright red pools in the raw pink divots where he removed layers upon layers of your skin.

His hand closes firmly around your wrist. He cleans your fingers with a wipe. Rotating your hand behind you, he makes you feel the slippery cuts.

You whine at the sting, trembling in his strong grip. The wounds are just as deep as they look.

“It’s going to scar,” he states, matter-of-factly.

He leaves the polaroid sitting on the table next to your face as he begins to dress the wound. The cleaning hurts almost as much as the cutting, and though he’s being gentle now you think it would be more bearable if he was being cruel. His light brushes leave you trembling like a leaf.

On goes the adhesive bandaging. You watch him through shimmery tears as he gets up, goes to stand at the glass case, undoes the lock, and squats to reach the bottom shelf. He removes an empty jar and a bottle of preserving fluid.

Going back to the trolley, setting the jar down, he screws off the lid. The preserving fluid sloshes as he pours it inside. Reaching into the white tray, he carefully sets the thin pieces of what he sliced off of you into the preserving jar, one by one. You watch them flutter down and settle at the bottom. He screws the lid back on and writes something in cursive in black marker on the label. Going back to the case, he carefully moves aside a beetle specimen, and places his new collection piece on the top shelf.

He checks his watch. Peeling off his gloves, which are wet with your blood, he deposits them in a small trash can in the corner and removes a new pair from his back pocket.

He doesn’t put them on. When he walks past the ottoman he trails the gloves lightly across the nape of your neck. Your body winces and shudders. You don’t hear him shut the door as he leaves the room.

His confidence in his drug is accurate; by the time he comes back, the only movement you’re able to accomplish is a useless twitching of your fingers and toes.

You aren’t facing the right way so you can’t see the chains he’s holding in his hand but you can hear them and the sound makes a pang of dread explode inside of you. They clank and rattle as he drops them beside the ottoman. He greets you with another soft caress of your nape. His gloves are wet again, with someone else’s blood.

He peels off the dirtied second pair and doesn't bother putting on another.

He crosses your arms behind your bandaged back as you sob into the leather. Snap. The pair of thick shackles close around your wrists. The cuffs are tight and uncompromising. He measures the circumference of your neck with a measuring tape, wrapping it taut around your throat, holding it to the base of your skull with two fingers.

You make fragile broken whines as he fits a stiff steel collar around your neck. You hear the click of a padlock. His warm knuckles come down to stroke your cheek.

His hands go under your body and he lifts you, sinking down on the ottoman in your place, splaying you across his lap. He grips the chain shackling your wrists behind your back, securing your arms tightly. In his shadow, you see him pull back his hand.

Whack.

A shattered sound rips out of you at the impact. You think for an instant that he has taken his knife out of his pocket and stabbed your backside.

With the next smack, you realize that it's his palm, and that he’s spanking you.

One more and you know he’s about to ruin your ass.

Ten seconds on and your sharp yelps are rising into screams. Thirty seconds and your cries are animal. Your cheeks are burning, blood rushing to the spanked area. His palm comes down again and again.

You feel him switch hands. His fingers curl around the front of your throat, gripping you above your collar, hot from the friction of his slaps and your own swelling skin. He rests his palm on your bruised bottom, groping the stinging flesh.

“Count,” he orders. “Out loud.”

Whack.

You obey his order through tears, blurting out the numbers between strangled sobs.

Whack. Wham. Whack.

The slaps are brutal. He’s putting all his strength behind it. Your lips are trembling as you count your punishment. You realize you can feel his clothed erection pressing against your side and that makes you sob harder.

At five, he stops. His hands leave your body, and you hear him fidgeting with his mask. The unlaced black fabric concaves in on itself as it falls to the floor, resting next to his boot.

You can’t look him in the face. You wouldn’t even if you could. You don’t want to see him.

Gripping your jaw, lifting your chin, he presses his nose and mouth to your ear.

“Shh… Shh shh shh...” He shushes your whimpering quiet.

Brushing your cheek with his knuckles, he informs you that five is the number of days he’s going to feed you with nothing but the tube he’s about to shove down your throat.

#third part may take longer heh #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collector #the collector x reader #the collection #slashers #horror #fanfiction #writing #reader insert #tw: torture #dark fic

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warmau · 3 years

Text

not knowing what to say isn't a foreign feeling to you, yet when you come face to face with ten outside his apartment on this summer morning, you are almost too petrified to even string a sentence together

he's really just........leaving

ten shines a big smile and from the open door you hear kun's exasperated voice asking why in the world ten is packing up his entire existence for a program that's going to last two months

"you look nervous"

ten jokes first, running a hand through his dark hair which he's spent the colder months growing out

"im the one going to a different country and yet you look like you might turn green"

his laughter tickles you and you force yourself out of the weird, frozen feeling, for his sake

"im not nervous - it's just this is our first summer apart since what, highschool?"

ten leans against the frame of his door and lets kun scuttle past him with a scowl

yangyang and hendery bounce after him with ten's insane amount of luggage

"yeah but it's two months, not two decades. plus....you know how much ive always wanted to do this."

right. and here you are being selfish.

"of course, i mean it's literally the birthplace of ballet."

"technically that's italy, but france is a close second."

"i hate you"

ten pulls you into his arms before you register that this is your goodbye hug

"i'll miss you too."

kun drives everyone to the airport, he complains and cries the most.

sicheng gives you a knowing look when ten takes your wrist in his hand and tucks your arm between his.

you ignore the look, and focus on ten. on him. and then - when the switchboard pops up his flight info - he gives a bubbly and excited

"ive gotta go!"

and then summer starts, just as he's gone

"so when are you going to tell him you're in love with him."

sicheng brings the big gulp he stole from hendery up to his lips and you keep your eyes closed behind your sunglasses

"sorry, yukhei's not my type."

"you know im not talking about yukhei."

you dig your fingers into the sand beside your towel, the beach is already so noisy so you pretend you don't hear sicheng, but you still feel him looking.

you guess a part of it is true, you love ten. who doesn't?

is that the core of the issue then, that ten is so available and loveable and charming, that it makes him also unattainable?

or at least, unattainable to you.

you hear your phone buzz inside your bag and sicheng is being dragged into the water by the rowdy rest of your friend group

it could be a text from ten?

your mind excites, but you put out that fire

it's probably just spam.

ten does text and even video call the first two or so weeks while he's away

you get blurry photos of food at cafes and the eiffel tower, random fancy looking dogs being walked on the small, cramped streets

ten's connection is kind of bad - but he still gleams through the fuzzy facetime camera as he shows you around the room the dance academy has provided

pangs of his happiness and excitement seep into you

and then there's the first sign of worry comes knocking and twirling through his door

a group of other dancers, all beautiful and strong, asking ten - from the limited amount of french you catch - if he's done, they're waiting for him to go to a show with them

ten gives you a scattered, quick goodbye. he says he'll video call again.

all you get is an update text almost five days later that has no pictures attached just a;

im ok - by the way i totally miss eating hot chips with you at midnight. ive had like a banana smoothie and that's it.

sicheng and kun are the first to pick up on the shift, you are quietly withdrawing to yourself

nothing makes you laugh

ten doesn't reply to your question about what the paris metro looks like, actually he doesn't even read it

kun nearly tugs hendery's ear red when he shares a snap story of ten pressed cheek to cheek with his new dancer friends in front of the louvre when you're in the same room

the thing is you are not jealous of any of them.

you don't go around trying to find their facebooks, clicking on their instagram profiles, comparing you and them.

you are just sad to your bones that they will understand ten in such a way that no matter how long you two have been friends

you will never, truly know

"you're his best friend"

sicheng reasons on the phone as you stare up at the wall above your desk, littered in old pictures and clippings and your gaze catches on the ticket stub from ten's first-ever solo dance performance

it had been a talent show in highschool.

it had been the first time you saw ten perform outside the corner of his cramped bedroom or the glimpse you caught meeting up with him outside the dance academy

he's in paris, he's with people who love it so much more than i do - they love dancing like he loves dancing.

i cannot understand that.

"i think you were right sicheng."

"im always right."

i do love him. when am i going to tell him?

you hang up after sicheng has his i told you so moment and stare at your screen

a notification flashes across the screen and it's a text from ten

the trains here are blue. i miss you.

you want to reply right away, so you open the message and start typing

i miss you too. actually, i think i finally understand why people who are in love are so hurt when they're suddenly left without their other half and ten you are my o-

you delete the sentence and make a face

nice. i miss you too.

you don't send it - or at least you forget to because your fingers are shaking and you exit out of the messaging app before checking

abandoning your phone, you turn on your side and stretch your hand out to reach the edge of the bed

there's enough space between you and it for someone to fit, so you remember the countless times ten has laid there

smiling and laughing and tickling your face with his sleeping breath

you can't even recall a conversation because there have been hundreds

suddenly you feel a warmth creep up your skin

hundreds of opportunities to tell him - and each time i chose to be a coward.

"you should write him a letter."

"this isn't a movie, what - you think im going to write a letter and he'll jump on the first plane from france to come to my side?"

sicheng cocks an eyebrow as if to say it is a possibility

"no. im not writing a letter. i'll suck it up and confess when he comes back."

you somehow end up writing a letter.

maybe because you really do want to just send a long text spilling your mushy, soft, pink feelings

but you know that's just not what ten deserves

he deserves (and you do too, but you won't admit this) a face to face confession

so you start retelling the moments that flutter up in your heart whenever you think about him

how he makes the room brighter when he's in it, how he dances with every bone, joint, muscle in his body - how he approaches it with no inhibition and true devotion that paints its way across his face when he practices, how he fits perfectly into the hole that grows more massive every day you don't see him

standing there across the hall - coffee in hand, gym bag with his scuffed dance shoes

by the time you're finished - the letter is longer than you imagine. there are parts crossed and scribbled out, repetitive thoughts, and stupid little comments and metaphors that compare ten to flowers or clouds or anything else pretty in nature

you cringe at yourself, but you do feel better

it could be your outline for when the time to actually tell him comes.

you shove the papers into an envelope, write ten's name and the address of his parisian dance academy just for the irony

and then make the mistake of letting it sit on your desk

in a matter of days, it has been swallowed by a bunch of other papers and trinkets

and when you're rushing around your room trying to get ready for another adventure to the beach - sicheng clinks the lollipop against his teeth and fishes it out - curious at the stamp

"do you want me to mail this?"

he asks and you're trying to find those sunglasses you literally just bought and grumble that sure, whatever - you'll meet him out by kun's car.

halfway to the beach, you turn in horror from the passenger seat to look at sicheng in the back

your eyes like saucers and a tremor in a voice

"wait. what did you ask me back in my room?"

sicheng's big smile is red from the candy, "your letter to ten."

and there comes the second pang of dread and worry that takes the overwhelming shape of your summer

oh my god - oh my god - maybe the letter won't even make it. i mean it's a letter to france....it'll take at least a month to get there. wait - it probably didn't even have a stamp on it. oh god maybe the address was totally off and some poor stranger is about to be subjected to my very incoherent feelings.....

every day you look at your phone and there's no texts or emails or anything from ten

his social media has gone quiet too

you throw your dignity down a well and ask all your friends if they've heard from him and they all scratch their heads and say no, it's been maybe a week since they did

your stress then turns from your love letter to a possibility that ten is in trouble

he kind of thrives from attention so it is very weird that he's so off-grid

you decide finally, on the day that it's been exactly a month and one day since he was gone, to call

you hover over the facetime button - should i text him first?

with a yelp, you nearly drop and crack your screen when ten's name flashes across the screen

you settle your breathing and tell yourself he hasn't gotten the letter, there's no way - since when has snail mail been efficient?

you answer and are about to ask what's up when ten waves something into the camera

"i got your letter."

maybe you go into rigor. because ten's eyebrows knit and he asks if your connection is ok, you aren't saying anything

you don't know if it's just because you miss him so much that you're able to drag yourself back into consciousness or because you are curious, in the depths of your mind, what his reaction will be

"o-oh. right- i-"

ten frowns and you think it's coming. the rejection is coming.

"is that why you didn't answer my text? you sent the letter instead?"

"your text?"

"yeah, i said i missed you and you read it and never responded."

a peek of a smile stretches on his pretty, bare face

"i never thought you were so romantic to send a letter."

something burns on your skin but you just try to make sure your hand holding the phone doesn't shake

"im not - i just, it was dumb sicheng said i should write it because - i don't know. he's the romantic, blame him."

"you're the one that said i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter."

"oh god"

that smile turns into a grin

"and that my dancing manages to cast a spell on you."

you hide your expression by turning your face

"are you going to re-read the whole thing to me?"

"should i, you're so poetic."

"don't make fun of me."

your voice is serious this time, small and huddled, because you mean it

worse than being told he doesn't feel the same is to be ridiculed for holding him in your heart like this for so long

"im not making fun of you, the letter is beautiful."

you still can't look at him, it's so ten to be kind before he's cruel

"i could never write something like that - so i thought i would just call you and say it."

you don't need to love song yourself into telling me you just see me as a friend

"i love you."

your head whips back so fast your phone drops and you curse and ten can't help but laugh

"sorry, sorry -what did you say?"

he runs a hand through his dark hair, the lighting in his room is dim and illuminates him perfectly

a large white t-shirt engulfs his slender shoulders as he sits up against the wall

"i love you. i know it's corny to confess over facetime, but im guessing it's more forgivable than text?"

a bubble bursts in your stomach and it makes you feel lightheaded and inhumanely blissful all at once

"i love you too."

"more then friends right, because your letter had this part about kissing im very interested in."

you bite back your lip and nod, both embarrassed that he'd bring that part up too but also seeing ten - your close friend, your secret love - talk about kissing you

makes some of the neurons in your body go haywire

"good, i seriously was scared you might have been pranking me with thi-"

"i would never. im not hendery."

"oh how are they, ive been super busy with the practice for a review so i haven't talked to anyone."

another thing you love about him, he keeps everyone in. he leaves none of his friends behind. he pretends like he couldn't have a care in the world, but he cares more than anyone else.

"he's ok, he almost crashed kun's car yesterday."

ten shrugs, "expected."

and like that - everything is still somehow the same. there is no awkward phase after you've talked about your feelings for each other at all.

because your love doesn't come as a one hit punch because ten is beautiful, although he is to an unfair degree

it comes from the experience of being around him. having so much of him. maybe even getting a little addicted.

you do talk more on the phone, no more long pauses even though ten's practices get more grueling and you tell him to take his time to rest

but he's sweaty on the practice room floor - texting you - telling you everything is sore but the thought of seeing you soon makes it all better

it's three days before ten is scheduled to fly back that he has his review and you are biting your fingernails waiting for him to tell you about it

when you get a youtube link at like three in the morning - you click it and someone has recorded ten's performance

somehow, he looks more graceful than you've ever seen him

a new text comes in when it's almost done

'i think i did well - can i get a reward?'

'you'll get a really good one when you're home'

he sends a winking emoji and you can't fall asleep after because you wonder what he's expecting, you'd meant a kiss - had he meant more?

you wouldn't mind that at all.

xiaojun is being pulled away from the conveyer belt by kun and hendery is asking sicheng for a sip of his starbucks as you all wait for ten's plane to land in the airport lobby

you two have not told anyone - mostly because you know there will be endless questions you won't have answers too and sicheng might literally never let you live it down

so you wait for ten to be here so you can suffer together

you see the gates from his flight open and sicheng mutters that you look like you're going to pop like a goddamn balloon

for once in your life, you don't snide back at him, folding your hands in front of you and tippy-toeing to see over the crowd

and then, like seeing him for the first time all the years ago when you first met, ten comes out

hendery and xiaojun try to go for a running jump, but the older members hold them back because everyone can sense whats coming

you dash toward him and ten doesn't stay still either - you two collide so hard it almost hurts, but you don't care at all

ten's duffel bag falls over his shoulder and your hands are wrapped around his neck before he can even say your name

it's a first kiss that couldn't be more characteristically fit for you

sweet, big smiles tasted on lips, and interrupted by none other than your group of friends gasping in a symphony of shock

except for sicheng - he knew

ten tastes like you imagine he would taste, maybe because in smaller ways you've already had doses of the sunshine that radiates off him before

he keeps his hands wrapped around your waist as he looks down into your eyes

"mon amour"

"is that really all you learned in france?"

"ummm yeah, i don't know how to say let's get out of here and back to my place even though im pretty sure someone said that to me at some point."

you pout, "don't try to make me jealous."

"never!"

ten chuckles as you press your face into his neck and hug him close

the only way you get pulled apart is because someone (kun) reminds you all you're still at the PUBLIC airport

the drive back is a frenzy and everyone wants to know everything and not about just you two - because you're "two" now - but about france and traveling and ten's dancing

like you'd sensed - nothing has really changed

just this time, your fingers are locked in tens. and the warmth you longed for in silence is suddenly all out in the open.

funnily enough, you and ten don't ever write letters to each other again.

ten just doesn't like writing - it takes too much sitting down

and you are horrified everytime he fishes your love confession out of the memory box and dangles it above your head as leverage

it's how he convinced you into adopting the first cat. now you two have three.

so when you and him are deciding the best way to let all your friends know about your upcoming event you cross out mailed invitations

"we can make an email list."

your legs are thrown over his thighs on the sofa and he's resting the laptop on you them

"let's just make an instagram post: wedding in our backyard on thursday - you're invited."

ten pinches his nose

"we are not having a backyard wedding. we could not fit everyone in my dance company into it anyway."

you play with your engagement band and sigh

"fine, fine. what about.....we just call everyone and tell them. if we call kun right now he'll let all of the world know by the end of the week."

ten agrees with a hum, but then starts typing and you lean over to see

"bulk wedding invites? you're giving in?"

he closes the laptop and tosses it to the side, easily and gently pushing you down onto your back to hover over you with a small content sound

"i am. but we don't even have to write the letters - some company will do it for us."

his lips are inches from yours and all of a sudden you're young again - waiting to kiss him for the first time at that airport

"you know we'll still have to write vows right."

he is about to kiss you, he's so close and your eyes are closing

"i'll just read your letter outl-"

"TEN NO!"

he laughs, laughs until he finally does kiss you and then laughs again when he pulls back - the overflowing amount of love that exists in that moment is potent

you tell him to get over that old thing, but he shakes his head

"never, when again in all the lives i live is someone going to say i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter?"

#i know his bday was in february please im still working through them cries #ten au #ten imagines #ten scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv scenarios #sfw #nostolgic!au #ten #member: ten #im sicheng through all this

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hopelesshunny · 3 years

Text

the love languages part ii: physical touch (f.w.)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred has always felt the need to touch y/n and after a drunken night he realizes he can't sleep without her.

warnings: very, very light profanity, drinking/underage drinking, kissing, bed sharing.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: my second instalment is here - i did in fact say i would wait until monday but i was really excited to write this one!! i am so grateful for all the love i have received on this series so far, i cannot thank you guys enough. i still feel like i have a ways to go in improving my writing - but as always my ask is open if you have comments, questions, concerns, luv or just wanna chat:)

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part i // part iii // part iv

For as long as Y/N had known Fred he had always been touchy. Fred’s need to constantly touch her was never unwelcomed, she relished in the way he’d wrap an arm around her shoulders when he’d walk her to class or how he’d lean into her when he laughed uncontrollably. However, she had always assumed that he was like this with everyone he was friends with, that he just needed to touch people in some way in order to feel close to them. This was very true but Y/N never knew that it was her touch that he craved the most, that as soon as he saw her, he longed to feel the soft skin of her cheek, the way her shoulders shook when she laughed or the rise and fall of her chest while he laid on her stomach in the common room, gentle sighs leaving her mouth every so often.

Fred couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times he almost told Y/N his feelings for her, the words sat on his tongue so often that he was starting to believe that they felt more comfortable in his mouth which is why they never launched themselves into the air. He didn’t know why he couldn’t force the confession out, there was always just a cloud of doubt and fear that swarmed his mind whenever the thought presented itself. But alas, here he was sitting across from her watching her flip her hair over her shoulder and let out a light laugh as she found whatever George was saying quite amusing.

“Y/N! You have to come, you literally can’t miss a party like this!” George practically shouted, a shocked look on his face.

“I’m so behind on my studies.” Y/N started, resting her chin on her hands. “I’ll be practically chained to the library all weekend as is, I can’t go to a party.”

“Y-You’re not coming tonight?” Fred questioned, his eyes hopeful as if he had heard the conversation wrong.

“Sorry Freddie.” She pouted. “You can tell me all about it at breakfast tomorrow.” At that Fred reached across the table to run his finger across her knuckles, relishing in the way her skin felt under his calloused fingertip, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how they would feel against his lips. However, he was pulled out of his daydream by the sound of George making gagging noises to the side of him as Y/N giggled.

“In that case I’ll have to drink a little extra.” He threw a wink her way. “To make sure I don’t bore you back to sleep tomorrow morning.”

“You never bore me, Trouble.” She smiled before saying her goodbyes to the rest of the table and making her way to the library. The nickname brought a gentle smile to his face, it was the first thing she’d ever called him. During her first year Y/N had been studying in the common room when the twins busteled in, laughing and hollering about another successful prank. When she asked what they were so excited about, the two boys were more than happy to explain, Fred wildly acting out the look on Snape’s face before George asked her name and introduced himself in response. Before Fred even had the chance to open his mouth to follow suit she stopped him.

“You sound like trouble, that’s what I’ll call you.”

George laughed at his twins new-found nickname but it made Fred’s heart swell - the fact that she had specifically given him a special name, the smile on her face when she said it and the way she never left their side since that day, produced a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Now, here he was, years later, with the same girl, same nickname, same smile and the same butterflies.

Fred kept his promise to Y/N, he was drunk, very, very drunk. He stumbled through the Gryffindor common room, his feet feeling like they were trying to carry him off in different directions until he finally found an armchair to ground himself with. Plopping himself down into the chair he looked out into the crowd of people, some laughing others whispering, couples hanging off each other, it made him miss Y/N. If she was here she’d be sitting next to him, his arm slung around her shoulder as she giggled over the way he slurred his words and she’d always made sure he got to bed safely before finding her way to her own room. Fred groaned as George sat in the chair across from him, pushing a glass of water towards him, causing his twin to chuckle at his annoyed state.

“At least you’ll have something funny to tell Y/N in the morning.” He laughed. “Tell her all about how your drunk ass could barely walk straight.” Fred leaned his head back on his neck.

“I should go see her.” He spoke quietly, just loud enough to convince himself of the idea but hopefully not loud enough for George to hear. He knew that his drunken state failed him however, when his brother quirked an eyebrow at him.

“And do what? Spill your guts?” George chuckled. “Either by finally telling her you’re bloody in love with her or literally?” This earned another groan from Fred as he shot daggers at him.

“That’s it.” Fred started, chugging the glass of water that was placed in front of him. “I’m going.”

“Best of luck mate.” George spoke as he watched Fred stumble his way through the crowd.

“Where’s he going?” Ron asked, suddenly appearing by his brother's side.

“On a death mission.” George responded.

Fred let out a sigh of relief when he finally made his way out of the common room and began the trek towards her dorm room. But his mind was running rampant, what if George was right? What if he was just better off going to bed? Maybe she wouldn’t want to see him, she was probably tired from studying all night and the last thing she wanted was him keeping her up. But despite his doubts his feet still carried him towards her, the walk was sobering, which he would need if he planned on getting a coherent sentence out when he finally made his way to her.

“Y/N?” He called softly when he opened her room door, trying his very best to keep quiet to not wake her roommates. He recognized her frame immediately, bundled under bed sheets, her hair messy and lips slightly parted. He stood over her, watching the way her chest rose and fell as soft breathes left her mouth. “Y/N.” He spoke again, shoving his hands in his pockets, fearing her reaction to his sudden visit. Her eyes shot open but when they found his, her face softened, a small smile forming.

“You scared me, Trouble.” She laughed lightly. “Are you okay?” She asked, the concern that laced her voice made him have to restrain from kissing every square inch of her face.

“I’m okay, just a little drunk.” He hiccuped, his response earning a bright smile from her as she scooted to the side and patted the bed, signially for him to sit next to her. He graciously accepted her offer, his hand immediately finding her knee, needing to touch her. She leaned into his touch as he slurred on about how Ron tried to flirt with Hermione but failed miserably and how red Harry turned when George dared him to kiss Ginny. Neither of them could remember falling asleep, they were too caught up in each other's whispered stories and soft giggles.

When Fred woke the next morning, his head pounding, his legs feeling as if they had carried him across the entire country, he looked down to find his best friend fast asleep on his chest. Y/N’s arms were wrapped tightly around his middle with his hand tangled in her hair as she shifted slightly on top of him. He felt like he should panic and apologize for last night’s antics but she looked so peaceful and he was so close to her that he couldn’t bring himself to worry about barging into her room at who knows what time.

“Mornin’ Trouble.” She spoke, her voice groggy and flooded with sleep. “How are you feeling?” She asked genuinely, pulling herself from his embrace to stretch her arms above her head, making him curse himself for ever moving and waking her.

“I’ve been much better.” He groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Guess I don’t have to fill you in on last night's events at breakfast anymore.”

“No, you did a sufficient job of that last night.” She giggled. “But we can still go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Y/N pulled him out of her bed, still fully clothed in what he was wearing the night before.

He grumbled his way through breakfast as George and Ron cracked jokes about how drunk and lovesick he was, Fred throwing warning looks their way as Y/N laughed seeming unbothered by the way they were pulling her into they’re jokes, taking it all as a way to poke fun at Fred. But his head was still swimming, the feeling of her weight on top of him and her hands pressed against his chest, all he wanted was to be back in that position again. He couldn’t get it out of his head for the rest of the day and no matter how many times he attempted to distract himself from her that night as he lied in bed his mind kept travelling back to Y/N. He lay awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how empty his arms felt without her in them - she was addicting, he had always known that, since the moment he met her he had not been able to pull himself away from her. But now he was in too deep, he needed to be there with her.

So, here he was, in his pyjamas, on his way to her dorm room once again, all shame and guilt left long behind, just needing to be near her. Fred padded into her room, his hands rooted in his pockets once again, fully expecting to have to wake her just as he did the night before. But she was wide awake, sitting on her bed, a novel clasped in her fingers, a smile forming on her face when he came into her line of vision.

“Did you miss me?” She teased, as he ran a hand through his hair, rocking on his heels.

“Can’t sleep.” He mumbled. “Was wondering if you were still up.” He said, offering her a grin.

“Well then Trouble, you’re in luck.” She smirked, moving to allow space for him to lie next to her. Fred laid his head in her lap as she turned her attention back to the book in her hand while the other snaked its way into his hair. All the trouble sleeping that had been previously plaguing him melted away with her nails lightly scratching his scalp.

Over the course of the next week Fred and Y/N fell into this routine, he would lay away in his bed before eventually giving into the knowledge that he could not sleep without her any longer before he would make his way to her room, crawl into bed beside her and fall into the soundest sleep that has ever graced him. In the beginning, he was apprehensive, worried that she would reject him at some point and tell him that she wanted to sleep alone. But she never did, every night she shot him a warm smile and opened her arms to him. As the week went on his worries morphed themselves into something new however, he was no longer concerned about her rejecting his company but that she would instead reject his feelings for her. That she would eventually realize that he was in love with her and tell him that she never felt that way about him and was just trying to be a good friend.

“I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore.” Fred spoke into the darkness of the room, his voice audibly shaking, the silence that filled the space causing his stomach to turn.

“Mhmm.” Y/N started, tightening her grasp on him. “I can’t complain, you’re a great pillow.” He let out a light laugh, rubbing small circles in her back.

“It’s true.” He spoke, more seriously. “I haven’t been able to sleep at all lately, but as soon as I get into your bed, I’m out.” She sighed. “They must have better beds in the girls dorms.” He added, which earned a giggle from her.

“I don’t know about the quality of the beds, maybe it’s who's in it.” She spoke, her voice quiet as she bit her lip now regretting her sudden burst of confidence. Fred was silent for a moment before he spoke, a deep breath filling his lungs before he had the nerve to confess to her.

“I always thought that the reason I always had to touch you was because I liked to feel close to people. But it’s different with you.” He shifted to look at her. “I need to touch you, need to feel your skin. Fuck Y/N, I just want to hold your hand in front of everybody and kiss you in between classes and fall asleep next to you every night.” He searched her face looking for any sense of emotion but all he could find was her typical soft smile. “It’s just that I-I-” He started.

“I love you too Fred.” She cut him off, placing her palm against his cheek, he turned into her touch despite the shock that was lacing his features.

“You what?” He said, a giggle falling from her mouth as she clasped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to save him some pride.

“The first night you came to my room, after you left the party, you kept saying you loved me in your sleep.” He groaned at her confession. “I was worried it was just drunk babbles but-”

“But I do love you.” He finished. “I’ve loved you for years.”

“I love you too, Trouble.” She giggled, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.

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notnctu · 4 years

Text

through the lens ❀ l.jn

❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.

❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞

❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy

Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy.

Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever.

It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now.

The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.

He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.

Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.

The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.

“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly.

“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.

Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft.

“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic.

Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at.

“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful.

Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”

“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man.

The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises.

The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely.

“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.

Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.”

Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.”

“That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated.

Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”

Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not.

Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.

He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.

As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.

“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”

Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”

“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him.

“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed.

“Why do you take nude photography?”

Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.”

Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills.

Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.”

Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”

“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”

His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.”

His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.

He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.

You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.

“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.

He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.

Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.

“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.

Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”

“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.

Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you.

Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.

There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.

He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.

“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly.

A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”

“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male.

You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.

You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.”

Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”

“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.

Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”

“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.”

“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.

Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.”

Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them.

“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.

Monday, 3:03 PM.

Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness.

There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin.

“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly.

Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.

“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s.

“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.

Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”

He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight.

“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.

For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.

“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down.

You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”

Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears.

Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.

There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.

This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece.

Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.

“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you.

Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away.

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.

“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.

“Why did you choose me as your model?”

Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.

The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click.

It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence.

You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you.

You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission.

Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.

Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.

Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”

“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.”

Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”

“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.”

He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”

“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.

Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?”

He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.”

“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”

Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.

He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.”

Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.

His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you.

Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world.

“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small.

“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it.

“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.”

He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand.

“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture.

“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent.

Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”

Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.

He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently.

The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier.

A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.

“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”

“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.

“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground.

He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.”

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.

A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.”

Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.

No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin.

His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one.

Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying.

Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.

Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”

Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”

“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.

Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.

“Are you usually this wet, baby?”

Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”

He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.

His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.

Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth.

He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.

“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.”

He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines.

Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.

Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.

Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you.

He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.

“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.

Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.

Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.

Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.

He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.”

You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist.

He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago.

His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset.

Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”

A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul.

You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”

“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim.

You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock.

As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again.

Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.

The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.

Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately.

The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before.

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”

You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.”

“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song.

Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.

Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.

“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed.

This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.

He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit.

His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.

“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.

“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button.

Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were.

Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you.

He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.”

Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details.

The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture.

Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.

Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.”

Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?”

Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.”

Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it.

The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.

There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.

You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him.

He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn’t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”

“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.”

“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.”

Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”

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soleilsuhh · 3 years

Text

— the four times you almost said ‘i love you’ [and the one time he did].

pairing. jaehyun x gender neutral! reader.

genre. angst. fluff. best-friends-to-lovers. mutual pining. high-school/college au.

word count. 1.5k words.

i. the first time you almost said it — you were both fifteen, and you were at your friend’s birthday party.

the music was so loud that it made your skin tingle and you could feel your heart beat in accordance to the thump of the bass. you liked this song. you liked it because it wasn’t just any song — “our song,” he had called it the past few months when you first discovered it together at a small, local record store. and right now, he looked back at you with that knowing grin and before long, he was leading you towards the dance floor despite your unsure protests.

when you reached there, a distant, faded chatter could be heard as he pulled you closer. he dropped his head slightly, his voice raised to a slight yell over the music, “i asked the dj to play it!”

you feigned an offended look, “i thought it was our song!”

your best-friend flashed you that half-grin you hated and loved so much, “it still is,”

the music got louder, drawing you in. and soon, you were dancing with him. at one point, you asked him to spin you around and he did: he spun you round and round in circles until you almost stumbled against him and you would have fell over if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hands that held you up.

the joyous sound of laughter rang in your ears — yours and his. what a beautiful sound, you thought, you liked it even more than the music. then as he helped you straighten up, both of you still lost in the moment, the words almost came out of your mouth: “i love —” you stopped yourself but he caught on.

“yeah?” he yelled over the music.

you gave him a smile, “i was gonna say i love this!”

a lie. the truth was you were going to say you loved him. you loved him; how could you not when he was smiling at you like that?

ii. the second time you almost said it — it was during the summer holidays; you were both sixteen. together with his mom and dad, he was over at your parent’s house for dinner. you were sitting across from each other at the dining table. your mom and his mom had been very close friends since high-school and it was an unspoken tradition they made up to have dinner at one another’s house every other weekend.

you were honestly losing interest as the adults continued their conversation. and so of course, your eyes found their way to him, with his plain black t-shirt and his hair neat except for that particular strand that fell across his eyebrows.

from across the table, he caught your eyes and as he smiled, your eyes drifted to the pair of dimples that appeared on his cheeks; seeing them, it made you smile, which in turn, made him smile even more. and soon you both sat there, forgetting about your surroundings and the food that was getting cold as you grinned at each other, trying to stifle the giggles that were threatening to tumble out of your mouths.

“okay, you two, stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and eat your food,” you heard your mom say beside you.

you were abruptly pulled back to reality and you averted your gaze, feeling the warmth spread on your cheeks. “mom, seriously,” you managed to mutter.

“the food is delicious as always, mrs. [y/l/n],” jaehyun said.

that made your mom smile affectionately at him like he was her own son, which again, made you smile as your heart filled with warmth. and just like that, you almost said it to him, but you swallowed the words by quickly gulping down a glass of water. it scared you how natural it felt to almost say it even in front of your family and his.

iii. the third time you almost said it — it happened a few weeks after your seventeenth birthday.

you were pressed against the couch, his hands on either side of your head. it started as a harmless play-fighting after bickering about which movie to watch but one thing led to another and now you were here.

heat rose from your stomach to your chest and then to your face. his lips were getting closer and your heart raced, the scent of him suddenly hyptonic. “erm — your lips are getting very close to mine,” you said, voice breathless and barely above whisper.

“i know,” he said quietly, pausing. “should i stop?”

you almost shook your head ‘no.’ don’t stop, you wanted to say. but you pushed him away slightly which was enough indication for him; he looked at you for a moment, his eyes held a look that resembled too much like hurt for a second but almost immediately, he gave you that half-smile again. he pulled away and instinctively rubbed the back of his neck. you also slowly sat up and both of you looked at anywhere else but each other.

you thought that maybe this was the time to tell him; if not now then when?

just as you were about to say those three words, he spoke cooly, “it’s alright, we don’t need to talk about it,” he had decided to revert his attention back to the movie catalogue on netflix, like nothing happened. “i guess we can watch the one that you wanted to...” he mumbled, casually.

your heart ached but you simply said, “yeah, sounds good,”

iv. the fourth time you almost said it — it was the year you were both moving away for college — yours was not that far from home but him...he was going abroad.

in the gloom of the moonless night, your fingers almost touch as you walked side-by-side. you knew this was a good-bye; he was leaving in the morning and although you had barely succeeded trying not to think about it while spending the whole day with him, everything felt too real right now and you couldn’t ignore the dull ache in your heart. heavy, the air seemed as the sight of your house got bigger with each step you took. you wanted to prolong this moment with him and yet you wanted it to be over soon.

as you reached in front of your house, you finally looked at him with a mask of contentment. you wished him well with a voice that sounded like you and yet it didn’t.

“you’re acting like we won’t ever see each other again,” he almost scoffed but you could see the sadness welling in his eyes behind that smile.

just say it, a voice inside your head told you. but instead, you just gave him a soft smile, “see you tomorrow at the airport,”

you couldn’t help but think about how this would be the last ‘see you tomorrow’ for a long time.

“okay,” he said.

you turned around to go but before you could take two steps, he grabbed your hand. you stared at each other for a long second.

“i, erm —” he paused then said, “don’t be late tomorrow,”

“i won’t be,”

another long second of just wordlessly looking at each other until he finally let go of your hand and you walked away.

v. the one time he did — it had been a little over a year since you last saw each other.

you were both back at your hometown for the summer holidays and for two months, you had been inseparable. your days blended together seamlessly and something between you felt more than just simple friendship. you were going on dates without calling them dates, you were sleeping over at each other’s places, making breakfast together, even something as little as grocery shopping, you did it together. you spent time with his family and he spent time with yours.

and right now, you were in his old bedroom, flipping through the photo albums with him, pointing out each embarrassing pose, expression, and making fun of each other. you loved how you were also there in the photographs and amidst the laughter, your eyes almost stung with a realization as you looked at him, sitting in front of you on the bed; this was the boy you had known for more than half your lives, the boy you you fell in love with since you were fifteen, the boy who was the cause of your many happy moments, the boy who was the reason for the sleepless nights —

you were in such a daze and so lost in your own thoughts that you weren’t sure if you dreamed this moment to life, but there was raw emotions in the way he looked at you and in the ways his fingers curled around yours as his face inched closer.

“erm, jae, your lips are getting a little too close...”

a rush of deja-vu hits you.

“Mm,” he said, “do you want me to stop?”

you looked at him for a long second, and this time around, you met his lips half-way. with a single kiss, you could feel the aches and the pains of all those years gradually lifting. you parted for a moment and you felt that all-too familiar feeling again, bubbling up inside you.

“i love you,”

the words hadn’t come out of your mouth but his. you tensed and stared at him before you felt your whole being soften from the look in his eyes. you could feel yourself letting go and for once, you didn’t stop yourself.

“i love you too,” you whispered, and you said it again louder, “i love you,”

he smiled. there it was again; the smile of his that made you smile.

he squeezed your hand, “i know, y/n,” he said, his voice was low and tender, “i know,”

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx

a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)

summary: literally just birth + harry

dad!tom x reader

warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too

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“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”

That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable.

“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead, Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him.

Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom; but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently.

“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless.

The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube.

“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window.

“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary.

“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.”

The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation.

Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement.

What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling.

“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face.

“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too.

And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago.

“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?”

Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours.

“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.

“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to.

“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features.

Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical.

“You gonna tell me her name now?” You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans.

“Amber. She’s Amber.”

You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart.

The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin.

“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms.

“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response.

“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”

“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”

“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.

“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”

“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”

“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”

“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone.

“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear.

“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”

“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would.

“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them.

“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”

hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3

taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland blurb #dad!tom #tom holland imagine #harry holland

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lesbian-yue · 4 years

Text

TIME FOR MY PAST MIDNIGHT FRANTICALLY TYPED AU POST THAT MIGHT END UP BEING TOO LONG...

TINDER AU...

AND LISTEN STAY WITH ME HERE.

- zuko and sokka best friends since high school now in their mid twenties (and yes it’s been mutual pining the entire painfully long time)

- one day while bored sokka decides to make a tinder and it’s just a joke...but he’s definitely not telling zuko about it...

- after about a week of using the app tho sokka swipes onto a profile that makes him drop his phone

- it’s jet

- JK it’s zuko and sokka is definitely not shaking when he picks his phone up off the ground wtf are you talking about

- after staring at zukos selfie sokka starts looking through his photos and they are literally all with or taken by sokka which doesn’t make him smile ...

- now sokka knows there are two things he can do right now...swipe left...or swipe right and make fun of zuko for being on tinder lmao what idiot uses tinder

- he knows zuko is in his room right now (ohmygod they were roommates...) if they match he can go laugh in his idiot best friends face

- never one to miss a chance to make fun of zuko he swipes right

- it’s a match!

- now pause a moment bc we all know zuko is mr takes everything very seriously so let’s think about what could happen here. he could be annoyed at sokka for actually swiping right bc this was HIS joke. or...

- Message from Zuko: ohmygod wow sokka i had no idea you felt the same way ive been wanting to tell you for so long are you home right now

- queue sokka FREAKING OUT

- HOW DID HE END UP HERE...

- and now queue zuko knocking on sokkas door

- and stunned sokka (he looks like this —>😳) opening the door

- zuko holds up his phone with his unanswered message on the screen “can we talk about this”

- sokka brain malfunctioning says “what kind of idiot uses tinder”

#im leaving it there actually #LMFAOOOOOO #feel free to add on tho #i provide so much material #one day someone is bound to write a fic #then my brain will explode #atla #sokka #zuko #zukka #tinder au

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader V

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Chapter V

Word Count: 7900+

[Chapter IV] [Chapter VI]

Summary: [Y/N] “Bell” [L/N] was content with dying. Shot by the person whom they admired and left to die, the world was now left in the hands of the team they once thought as family. However, it seems that fate had other plans in mind…

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, unreality, drugs, war crimes

Notes: I had to revise this chapter a lot, the original draft and final turned out way different, but I’m satisfied with the results. Also posting a bit early since I might be too busy next week! I ran out of gifs to use for the header too.

[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]

August, 1983

CIA Safehouse, West Germany

The escape from Berlin was a success, albeit the minor inconvenience.

Right when you got back to the safehouse, you threw off everything on you to take a shower before heading off to sleep, mentally and physically exhausted. You would fill out your action report tomorrow whenever you woke up.

The intel Mason found was a bit lackluster, mainly consisting of a tiny vile of a peculiar gas and a few papers of names. You could see why he was a bit disappointed. Despite your initial speculation, Hudson seemed satisfied with the outcome, and the canister containing the substance was sent back to the U.S. for analysis.

It was remarkably chilly when you woke up. Your blanket was on the floor and the sheets, despite the cold, were sticking to your skin, and your limbs were heavy as you stood up and stretched. You felt a bit lethargic, swaying a bit as you walked out the door, but you brushed it off. Looking at your watch, it was around eight-thirty in the morning.

“Morning Bell,” Mason greets as you walk out to the main area. He was near the weapon wall, polishing up one of the rifles.

“Hey. How’s the head?”

“I’ll live. Oh yeah, Adler was looking for you."

You gave him a confused look. "Why?"

"Something about the evidence board. Wanted you to check the intel on the table."

"Of course he does."

You pulled out a stool from underneath the table, hauling it over to in front of the evidence board with the dossier in hand. In the end, your connection with Perseus was still being put to use, Adler and Hudson wanting you to scour the evidence for any potential connections or correlations they don't have insider knowledge on. If that’s what their use was for you, then so be it.

The folder, along with the board, was starting to get full with papers and polaroids. There were newspaper clippings here and there, yellow post-its with plausible theories written on them, red string connecting one thing to another. A picture of the tiny capsule the team retrieved was even on there.

You paused, eyes lingering on a photo of a younger Perseus. His hair was much darker than it was now, nor did he have the mustache. Next to it, a note with "Perseus on the move again?", as well as an iron-on patch of the group's symbol. Some files relating to Operation Greenlight were also plastered next to him.

There was the symbol. The colors were yellow, black and red. Something that you used to bear proudly on your arm. Perseus himself even gave a patch to you after you made the effort to prove yourself.

Shaking off the memories, you turn your attention back to the dossier. You meticulously took everything out and placed it neatly on the table. Examining the documents, there wasn't much to decrypt, since most of it was typed in plain words. There were a few names, none of which you recognized, but there was one that was blacked out.

[Feigenbaum, Wilhelm

Nikitin, Mefodiy

Kutznetsov, Oriel

Borga, Felipe]

Whoever scribbled the name out must have been in a hurry; they did a good job. You held it up to the light, seeing if you could read the original text through the ink, but to no avail.

However, you did notice that something did reveal itself. There was a collection of random icons at the bottom, although in code. Huge gaps were between each one, and the symbols themselves were miniscule, so you had to bring out a magnifier to read it. The text was written in a format you couldn't understand.

But the more you scrutinized it, comparing it to other commonly used codes, you came to recognize a few patterns.

They were the ones Perseus uses to relay information. You even wrote some in the format.

You held up more papers to the light, trying to see if there was anything else. There were only two other hidden messages, both spaced out in similar fashion: one on an old newspaper clipping and another on a piece of scrap paper that looked like someone's diary entry. Something noticeable was that the material of the three pieces were thinner than average.

"You're either going to go blind or fall off the chair if you keep doing that."

Removing the papers from your view, Lazar gleamed down at you.

"Don't jinx it now," you respond.

"Here."

He brings over a table lamp, plugging it into a nearby surge protector. You thank him, turning it on. It flashed brightly in your eye, and you could feel your headache tighten around the back of your head.

Lazar watches you work as you knit your brows in a concentrated fashion. It was a bit chilly in the safehouse today, and yet he could see little beads of sweat forming on your forehead. "You look a little pale, Bell."

"I'm fine."

Checking your suspicions, you gathered up the three papers, straightening them up on the table before hovering them over the lamp light. Sure enough, the codes at the bottom lined up perfectly.

"Can you hold this for me Lazar?" you ask.

"Can I?"

A long exhale. "May you hold this?"

He keeps the papers suspended in the air as you write down the code on a piece of paper. You then collect it from him, switching the order around before letting Lazar hold it in place.

"Okay, I think I got all of them."

He hands them back over. "How do you even understand these codes anyway?"

You shrug. "Lots of studying and pain."

Going to the computer, you access CIA records and look up the names from earlier. Interestingly, one of them was already deceased, being Felipe Borga. You wrote the info down on a nearby post-it before slapping it onto the paper. About to pin your findings to the board, you see the picture of young Perseus staring back at you again, his dark irises boring holes into your being.

"̶I̶'̶v̶e̶ b̶e̶e̶n̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ f̶o̶r̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶o̶n̶e̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ y̶o̶u̶r̶ s̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ f̶o̶r̶ q̶u̶i̶t̶e̶ a̶ w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶ n̶o̶w̶.̶"̶

Adler had called him handsome, though you could never see it that way. While you never met Perseus when he was younger, that man was your superior, so to belittle his name with useless romantic descriptions felt like an insult. Despite working for the CIA, it was difficult to paint him in a different light other than your old boss. Looking at the brood expression only brought an unwanted sense of longing. You didn’t regret working with the CIA, but it served as a horrid reminder of your ties with Perseus, and the things you have done under the name.

As you recall your past, the throbbing pain from earlier felt like it was only getting worse, the pressure on your temples further tightening. Not only that, but the auditory hallucinations were joining in. It wasn't Adler, nor Park, Lazar, Woods or Mason who were speaking, but Perseus in the mother tongue. He sounded odd, voice deeper and warping; it felt like he was right there, standing next to you.

"̶I̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶ y̶o̶u̶ t̶o̶ j̶o̶i̶n̶ u̶s̶.̶"̶

Whatever peace you had was short-lived.

I’m fine, you tried to assure yourself. Maybe you just needed a glass of water. Then, after that, you could work on the code.

You tried to move away from the board, hoping that the headache was just temporary, but each step felt like sandbags were strapped to your legs. The room felt unusually longer and wider than you remember, and the sunlight seeping through the windows were blinding. You were swaying and your vision was twirling around counter clockwise. Someone called out to you, but you couldn't figure out who.

“Fuck,” you heaved, leaning onto the wall for support. Your fingers dragged along the wall as you tried to make your way to the sink.

“T͌͝h́͝͝e̓̈́̈́ U͐̽̕n͒̈́͠ì̿͘ẗ́͝͝e͆̐͊d̈́͠ S͐̚͝t̾̒̕a͐̾t̾̓̈́e̽͋̚s͛̈́͋ à͋̾n͑̾̓d́̔͝ i̓̚̕ẗ́̽̀s̓͝͝ á̿̓l͑̐̈́l̐̾̈́i͒̒͝e̾̈́̈́s̀̕͝ s͊̓̐l̓̒͝o̐̽̽ẁ̐l̚̚y̓̓͐ c̀̚͝o͑̾́n̓̔̕s̈́̿͝u͒͑͝m̒͌̈́è̽̀ t͋͌͛h͋̚a͐̔t̀́ w̐̈́̚h́̒̿ì͑͠c̽́h̔͋͐ i͋͛̈́s͑͒̓ d̒̐e͑̓̓a̐̓͘r͛̓͊ t͆͊̒o̾̕̕ u͝͝s͐̓͊.̀͌͝”

There were papers in front of you. Volkov sitting on the left, and several other influential leaders at the table. Arash and his blue bomber jacket—

No, Arash is dead, you’re not in the Bunker—

“I̸͉̪̻̿̒̕t̴̫̠͔͛͋͝ i̸͓͍̔́͒s̵̪̘͛̒̾ ẗ̵̝͔̺́̈́͝h̴̡̠͚͑͝e̴͇͔͓͑̕͠ m̵̺̼̘̽͐o̴̢̘̽̓͋͜r̵͙͔̙͆̈́̿à̸͇͍̓͘ĺ̴̝̻͇̐̐ d̵̟̝̐͑͘ǘ̸̘̻̦̽̔ẗ̸͔͍̺́̓͝y̵͕͖͋͘͝ o̸̟͎͎͑̾f̵͇̞͓͒̿͐ P̵̢̘̝͆̓̀e̴͚͎͆̈́͐r̸̪̻̝͒̒͘s̸̡̟̦͛̈́̈́ë̴͚̺̼́̒u̴̻̻̞͋͌́s̸̞̞̘̈́̓͊ t̸̙͎̝̓͋́o̴̢͔̻͋̽ a̴͕̞͉͆͐͑ć̵͙͖̼̚t̵̢͕͉͐͐͝,̴̦̠͉͐͘ w̴͓̪͕̐̾̕h̵̙̙̫͘͝e̵̠̞̘̾̈́n̵͖̘̫͛͋ t̸͍̻̼̓̀̓h̴̘͉̟̒̀͊e̴̺̺͖̽̀y̸̡̞̺͑̀̕ w̸̙̻̻̒̓i̴͖̺͉͒̒͌l̴͉̦͕͠͝l̵͔̠̔̐̿ n̸̻̿̿͜͠ö̸̦̘́͑͋t̴̟͉̙̿́͊.̴̢̢͕̀̀͝”

The safehouse begins to fade out of your vision, and you collapse to your knees, covering your ears as your sense of time becomes lost. You tried to fight it off, but were thrown into a pit of memories that mixed with one another.

“Ḯ̵̦̻͚̒’̵̪̘͓̐͆͠v̵͖̙͖̔͊͊e̵̦͖̒͠͝ s̸̡͉̈́͐̚͜e̴̢̠͓̔̾̚e̴̟̟͇͛͌͝n̵͎͎͋͊̓ y̸̟͍͓̓͐o̴͍͛̈́̕͜u̵͔͓̠̒̓̚r̵̦̙͔͛͛͆ p̴̟͎͎͑̚͝i̴̡̡͍͊͊͊c̵̦͓̻̀͝t̵͇̺̼̐̓u̴̞͇̦̐̈́͋r̸͚͙͕̈́͐́e̴̫͚͇̽̀̐s̵̢͍̺̓̒̈́.̴͉̺̺͛̔ T̴͍̪̟͐̈́̓h̴͕͖̘͒̈́̔e̴̪̠̙͋̓̿y̸̡̘͋̈́͝ w̸͚̪̾̐e̸̦̦͕̓͑̽r̴̟̘͍̓͆̓e̸̟͙̓̿̓ l̸̼̠̝͊͝o̸̪̙͊͊͒o̴͙̻̞̐̈́͝k̵̠̠̦͌͊͌ḯ̴̡͕̙͑͐n̸̻̪͋͝͠g̵͉̻̺͒͒̾ f̸͇̦̘̾̀͐o̸̡͕̻̿̕͝r̴̻͇̫̐͒̐ y̴̪̦̓́͜͝ö̵͚̝͇́̕u̴̝͎͋͊͆.̴̡͚̔̚͜͝”

I'm not Perseus, you try to convince yourself. He's not here—

Even so, they kept resurfacing, even ones you never saw before. You shut your eyes; you didn’t want to remember, but it was involuntary.

Get out of my fucking head!

"̴͚͖̽̀͜͝Shit, B̴̡̪͑͑͑è̵͚͕̼͑͊l̵͎̦̦̈́̓͝l̴͔̫̀͜͝͝!̴͚͕͚̔̐̚"̵͔͖͓̔̈́̿

“R̵̘̺͇̒̿̒è̵̪̘̞́̾b̵͕̘͍͋͘̕i̸̢͍͓͑͘͝r̸͓̙͒̐͌t̵͖͍̝͊̈́h̴̢͎̟͐͐̕ I̴̼͇̝̽͛͠ś̴̠͖̘̚͠l̸͓͓͔͑͆a̵̡͚̘͐͛̓n̸͕̟̼̈́͛d̴̡̼̞̐̈́͌.̸͍͖͓͊́̚”

“Ḯ̴̢̞͔̓͝ t̴͍̻̪͐̿͠r̴̫̪̈́̈́̐͜u̴͕͙̪͛̚s̵͇͚͖͊͊̀t̸̪̫̪͑́͝ t̵͎̠̞͛͆͝h̴̠͔̿͐͠a̵͔͚̿͘͝t̸̙̞̠͒̽̽ y̸̠̪͝͝o̵͙͕̝̐̕u̴͖̟̾͌̈́ k̵͕͓͌́͌e̸̡͓͉̿̚͝e̴̘͚͉͑̈́̚p̵͓̙̝̈́͑̕ t̴̺̦̽̓̒͜h̸̘̺̘̀̒͘i̵̡͚̠̓̕s̴̫̼̼̔͝͠ a̴̺̝͔͌̾ s̴̡̠͙̽̚ë̸̟̘́͛͛͜c̸̡̙̙̈́͊̽r̸̪̻̪͐͋͊é̴͕̠͕͆͊t̴͇̞̫͐͋̾ f̴̻͉͇̀͋͠o̴̦̫͍͛̽̐r̸͇̝͖̾̀͒ n̸͖̠͊̕͝ò̴̟͇͙͛̈́w̸͓͙̝̿͊.̴̡̝͎̓͑̕”

Make it stop.

“Ö̵̦̘͕́͋͝u̵̫͕͓͐͠͝ŕ̵̪̝͊͝ n̴̢͖͓̽͝͝e̴̢͓͐͑͆w̸̼̠̙̓̿͒ c̵̪̞̐̔͛͜o̴̻̺̞̓̿͘m̸̡͍͓̐͋͋r̴̡̼̘̓̿͐a̵̝̦̓͆͜͠d̴͖̼̓͜͝͠e̴̡͎̝̐̔̔ ḧ̵͙͎̦́̈́͌a̴̟͓̦̔̈́̒s̵͇̫͚̔̐͘ a̵̦̟͇͒͊̽ p̵̡͉̻͌̒r̸̡̺͙͑͝o̵̘̼͚̽̓̽j̵͕͙͖̓̓͝e̵͉͎̦̔̈́͑c̸̪͔͑̐̐t̸͉͔͚͊̚ t̸͓͚̻̽̒̀h̵̻͎̟̓͋̓a̵͖̞͍̓̓̕t̸̝̺͑̿͜ w̵̞̟̙̽͆͝i̵̡̺͙͑̓́l̵̻͇̪̿̒́l̴͉͓̻̀̓͘ a̵̝̙͍͐́̀i̴̝͇͔͆̔̕d̴͉̼̙͐̐ ḯ̵̟͓̕͜n̸̞͍̘̓̒͘ o̴̺͔̘͊͊͊u̴̢̫͊͐͠r̵̘͔̀̾̓͜ g̵͖͙̕͘͜͝o̵̡͖̦̓͑͑a̸͉̻̐͊l̸̪͚̔͐͜͠ o̵̞͎̻͊͛̽f̴̢̺̠͒̈́̚ ǵ̵̟͖͍́͘r̸̻̘̺̔̚e̴̙̞̫̐͑a̸͚̼͙͒͆t̸̻͚̻̐͒e̴͚̦̓̒̚͜r̴͚̠̈́͒͒ p̸͓͉͖̓͝͝o̵̡͙͚͑̚̚w̴̡̠͛͑̚é̴͓̦̈́̓r̴͕͕͓̿̀͑.̵̠͖̘͊͠͝”

You couldn't breathe. It was like someone had pulled a bag over your head. What was he saying?

"̴͕̺͕͋̀͛W̴̢̡͕̽̽͋ḧ̸̻͔͙́̽͝á̴̺̟̼͘͝t̴͉͓͇̽͘͝'̴͓͔͉̒̾͠s̴̡̼̓͘ ẃ̸̺̟̙͐͑r̸͚̘͙̈́́͝ó̸͚̘͚́͝n̴̼͍͙͛̐͌g̴̟͔͘͘̕ w̵͓͚͕̽͊̿i̵̪͉͔̐̐̾t̵̙͍͇̾͛͘h̵͖̞̒͛͠ B̴̻͇̦̈́̿͝e̴̻͚̠̿̓͘l̸͚͛͌͜l̴͓͚͉͌́̚?̴̢̙͕̿̐́"̵̢̫̼̓̾̐

It hurts.

"̸̠͇̠̀̀͑A̸̢̼̘͆̔͝d̴̪͖̘̈́͌l̵̢̺̦͌̈́̚e̴̻͖͋̓̈́͜r̸͕̪͖̒̐̚!̵̦͇͖̒̽̒"̴̘͎̝̐̒̓

“I̵̫̝̞̿͛̓ t̴͔̻͛͆͋r̵̻͇̘͛͑̚u̸̻̝͚͑̓͝s̴̼̫̒͌́͜t̸̢͓͉͐̓͝ t̵͎̟̀̾̿h̸̫͎͍͋́͘a̴̘̺̦̓͊̈́ẗ̸̡̺͎́̽͠ y̵̡͙͖̽͛̓o̴̢̡͖̒͛̽u̸͖̫̪̓̾͐ t̴̻͎̦͒͒w̸̼̠̓͛̾o̴̡͇̻͆̒͘ ẅ̴͚͚̞́̒͘i̵͉̺͍̒̿̚l̸͉̻̒̈́͊l̴̼͖̦͋̾̚ g̴̻̻̫̾̔e̴̻̟͐̔ẗ̵̝͉̫́͛ a̸͉͙̘͋́͌l̵͉̘̻̈́̈́͛ö̴̡͇̼́̔͊n̸͖̻͇̈́̈́̒ǵ̴̻͎͕̕.̸̝͉͔̿̾͝”

Something grabbed your arm abruptly. Your eyes snap back open, but you didn't dare to find out who it was. The only viable option was to stare at the cold concrete floor, but every scratch or imperfection embedded in it seemed to move on its own, forming letters from the Russian alphabet. Even the radio, which was dead, sprung back to life, reading the words to you.

"̴̼̻̼̀̐̚B̵͓͉̦̐͋e̴͖̞͖̓́̒l̴̢͇̐̀l̴̟̼͚̓͊͘!̴͖̪̠͊̚ I n̶e̶e̶d̶ y̶o̶u to listen to me."

Someone was talking to you. Whoever it was, they managed to peel one of your hands away. They held your arm firmly as you tried to stick your hand back in place.

"Go away!" you yell.

"Bell!" Adler said once again, calm and steady. You stiffened and stopped struggling as you recognized his voice, your eyes finally meeting his.

Adler noticed your eyes were glazed over. You were short of breath, hyperventilating. He never seen you in a state like this before.

Once he had your attention, he reached over, slowly, taking your other hand away from your face. They felt unnaturally warm. He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and was met with beads of sweat and heat.

It was raining heavily last night on the mission, which would explain your feverish symptoms. It never occurred to him that the side-effect capabilities were determined by your health; you seemed fine before. Unless, you were just good at hiding it.

Your hands were shaking ever so slightly as he held onto your wrist. "Bell," Adler begins slowly. "Where are we right now?"

"The… safehouse."

A chime.

"Yes, that's right. We're going to get through this. You just need to listen to my voice, okay?"

You nod.

"I want you to take a deep breath. Everything else you see, and everything else you're hearing… They're not here. Perseus isn't here."

"We–."

"Perseus isn't here, Bell."

Adler’s words repeated constantly in your head. His eyes were a nice piercing blue, you’ve come to recognize. The scar was still quite a mystery to you, you never seen any wounds like it before, yet it looked… good on him. As you observed his face, analyzing each of his movements, Perseus’s ghost began to fade away from your mind.

It was ironic. The man that had the power to make you forcibly remember these things was now the same man who's trying to pull you out of them. All he had to do was speak. Your eyes move away from Adler’s face, knowing that you stared at him for too long, instead shifting your attention to a random spot on the wall. A strong urge to thank him was fighting against your internalized indignation against him.

Your breakdown caused the rest of the team to gather around you, clearly worried and concerned for your wellbeing. You couldn't bring yourself to look at any of them, feeling a tad disappointed towards yourself for being rendered incapable that easily. You were perfectly fine before, so what was different this time?

"You have a fever."

"I'm fine," you snap suddenly, ignoring Adler’s helping hand and standing up. You held up your arm, leaning against the wall to support your weight. "Just… give me a moment."

"You're sick Bell," Adler states, standing back up. "You can't work like that."

"I don’t need you to tell me what I can or can’t do.” Without waiting for any reaction or response, you were about to return to your desk, but someone blocked your way. "Move, Lazar."

"Sorry, Bell, but I'm with Adler on this one," he said with a concerned expression. "You look like Hell."

He was right. You were pale and extremely cold, yet you were sweating and your breath was warm. It was difficult to remain standing and your vision was crooked.

"The faster you recover, the faster you get back to work," Lazar attempts to convince. "Just rest for today."

You click your tongue. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you couldn't argue with Lazar. Giving a sigh of defeat, you turned around and headed to the back.

The team members shared a look of worry as you left. A door slammed from your direction, bringing down bits of dust from the vents.

"I'll go talk to Bell," Mason volunteers, breaking the silence. He was about to go down the hall, only for Adler to stick a hand out.

"Just leave them be."

"...You're fucking joking, right?" Woods jumps in. He gestures towards the spot you cowered at moments before. "You're just going to leave Bell alone after all that? Damn, you're way dumber than I thought."

"The best way to go about it is to wait for Bell to calm down. Then, you can talk."

"The best way is for you to talk to them, Adler," Lazar digresses. Even he was dumbfounded at his own thinking. It was probably the worst suggestion Lazar ever made, but his gut feeling told him that it was the best approach to tackle the thin line between you and Adler.

"Me? I think I'm the least suited for that."

"Yeah, the fuck? If anything, Mason or I should go."

"Look," Lazar reasons, "What I'm saying is that he can't avoid Bell forever. We all reconnected with them. Now, it's Adler's turn. He set everything into motion, he should be the one to fix it."

…

You slam the door close to your room, somehow affording to grab the Walkman off your desk before you fall onto the bed. The throbbing sensation never ceased, and you rub your eyes, trying to ease yourself into a sleeping mindset.

Everything had been working out so far since you arrived, and you thought you were getting to a point where the hallucinations wouldn't bother you anymore. It was an uphill battle to keep your mental and physical health in order while also having work to do. Every little thing became a chore, but you committed to them to get through the day. But, with the awful chance of getting a fever, they came back in your moment of vulnerability.

The music that served as your usual escape had no effect as your thoughts raced at breakneck speed. Perseus's voice was calling out to you, his words iced with a sweet, yet sickening, sense of pride as he talked. You knew it held some sort of importance but you couldn't figure out the context. Something about a new colleague.

Lingering on his words, you barely noticed the knock at your door.

Shit.

You forgot to lock it.

The door is held ajar by Adler as he takes a quick peek inside to see if you were there. You glimpse over, and he assumes eye contact with you.

"So it's your turn to talk to me now?" you scoff, averting your eyes back onto the ceiling.

"Let's not make this awkward Bell."

You turn down the volume of your music as Adler closes the door behind him, and sit up. "What do you want?"

"They suggested that I talk to you," he answers. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I had a choice."

"Good to know. What happened out there never occurred." You see a hint of white in his hand, only to recognize it as a pill container.

"It's a fever reducer with antihistamine. Helps you sleep."

"Don't get the wrong idea, Doc. Just because we're on talking terms now doesn't mean that I want your help. Especially with the fact that you used to drug me without my knowledge."

"We didn't have much choice, Bell." Adler set down the container on your desk before leaning against the door, arms crossed in scrutiny. "You're were our only connection to Perseus. Hudson wasn't too keen on you being on the team either, so that was one of the sure-safe methods to keep you in check."

You scoff. "That's all I am, huh? The CIAs connection to Perseus."

"Your decision in Solovetsky saved millions of lives."

"I saved plenty of lives, yeah. You called me a hero. And yet, apparently my own life wasn't worth keeping."

Adler gives out a groan. "Let's not start this now—"

"No!" you cut him off. You trudge over to him, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Enough dancing around. We're going to talk about this, whether you like it or not. You came in here to talk, so let's talk."

"Stop acting like a fucking child," Adler scolds. “I came here to help you, not to argue.”

“I didn’t ask for help, especially from the likes f—”

"Well, you haven't exactly given me the chance to talk to you either!" he snaps, raising his voice and causing you to flinch. It was like walking through a minefield with you, so might as well set the entire damn thing off ahead of time and get to the point. "Whenever anyone tries to get closer to you, all you do is push them away. We want to help you Bell, but you always put up this arrogant, tough guy act and refuse to let anyone in because you're too scared of being hurt again–"

"Well I wonder whose fault that is?! You act like it's so easy to just get over the shit I've been through, but it's not. You have a lot of balls to walk in here like I'm just going to accept what happened without reasonable doubt, and I had enough of being used like some fucking chess piece! You never looked at me like your teammate, I was just another means to getting to Perseus for you. Did you really think treating me nicely would just make everything okay?!"

"Since when did I ever treat you like a chess piece?"

"Oh, you know very well when. You know how it feels, Adler?" You balled your hands into fists, your pent up anger finally reaching its boiling point. "To have your memories erased, and be forced to believe that the men you worked alongside with were the same people that were the ones that erased them? Or how they also subjected you to psychological torture and tried to reinvent you? I'm not a fucking toy!"

He didn't say anything. You were yelling at him at this point, and seeing a lack of reaction only made you more angry.

"It fucking hurts. I used to think 'there's nothing worse than this', but life continues to prove myself wrong. The damn bell that you trained me with, the injections to keep me in check… I even saw Park's notes, at least she cared for my health. But it only took her death for me to find out the truth. And then, when I think it's all over, I get fucking shot by you! Then I met these four old Soviet soldiers, they saved me. I spent months, believing that everyone thought I was dead. And then you took that all away."

You could feel the remains of your energy drain away as your voice began to strain itself and head throbbed. Your hands were grasping at his collar, pushing him against the door. You didn't even remember grabbing him, but let go and backed off.

"I-I thought I could live with it. But, they just keep coming back. You, sitting behind the glass pane, with a coffee and the microphone, a couple scientists watching... I think about the cliffside and… It's just been a nightmare I've been living in, and I'm fucking tired of it. You…”

You cut off, catching your breath.

“...Should have just gone for the head... "

You should have died.

Adler gives out a long exhale through his nose, unsure how to respond.

Of course he didn’t know how you felt. But what he did know was that he regretted every single thing he did to you. Maybe he did push too hard. They were necessary, sure, but if there was another way they could have gone about it, he would have taken it if he knew things were going to turn out this way. In the end, though, he had to use the cards he was dealt.

Coming to a decision, Adler takes a seat.

“Do you want to know what happened?” he comes to ask.

“...What?”

“You want to know why I did it?”

You sat, perplexed at his reaction. You practically yelled at him, and he still persisted in confiding the issue between you two. At the very least, you expected him to have a snarky reply, or attempt to convince you that it was for the greater good, but he seemed to already exhaust himself from any other excuses.

It felt like he was pleading for you to listen to his side of the story. His voice felt off, it was a tone you never heard him speak with. It was husky like always, but this time wasn't too harsh or too soft on you. He spoke in a way that wasn't demeaning, but instead made it easy to listen to.

No, you weren't going to let him do that.

Don't trust Adler.

"Because you fucking hate me, that's why," you hiss. "Orders first, that's what you're all about. Who cares what everyone else thinks, right? In the end, I was always your enemy. Was I a burden to you? Is that how it—"

"After Solovetsky," he interjects sternly, lighting up a cigarette. He takes a drag before continuing, looking at your disoriented yet pitiful expression. "I was instructed to erase anything that could potentially inform the general public about the nukes Hudson placed around the world. We may have stopped Perseus from detonating them, but they had to ensure that no one else could get a hold of the codes. And that included you.

"I didn't want to do it, Bell, trust me. But… orders were orders. You're right, they do come first. That's how we made it this far, by following them. Except, because of those orders, there's bad blood between us. You can hate me, Hudson, and Black all you want, but it's not going to change what happened.

"In the end, regardless of what you think about me, you're one of the best spies I worked with. Your skill set is one of the best I’ve seen, even surpassing the CIA's best cryptographers. Your attitude on the job is what we need, and one of the things that I admire about you."

You couldn't look at him while he told you this. It hurt, knowing that he finally said the things you've been dreading to hear. It was one of the things you weren't excited to listen to, but at the same time a part of you demanded for someone to tell you that you were needed. That you weren't just an object to be disposed of once fulfilled of its purpose.

"After all the things we did to you, nothing in the world could probably make up for it. You and I may haven't known each other for as long as I said we have, but we damn well went through a hell of a lot. Berlin, Lubyanka, all that shit. And following our little… fiasco on the cliffside, it made me realize how much your presence meant to the team, and what we had just lost. You kept it lively, helped keep our morales up. And most important of all…

"It made me realize how special of a person you are to me. So don't you fucking dare think for one second that you would be better off dead. Understand?"

You were at a loss.

Did Adler– Russell Adler just say the words you heard him say?

That you were special to him.

"We already lost you once, and we don't need a second time."

You couldn't formulate any words, and you just sat back down, letting it sink in.

"So, just... tell me what's going on, Bell."

It was easy to tell that he had been rehearsing this. That he struggled endlessly to find the right words to say without hurting your feelings any further. Adler may have not said "I'm sorry" directly, as expected. Nevertheless, you could still see and feel the meaning behind his words. There was regret as he spoke about the incident, but when he addressed yourself as a person, the way he enunciated it just made you feel warm and vulnerable. You didn't know it meant, and it confused you.

"I-I'm scared, alright?” you admit reluctantly. “Everything may be fine now, sure, but what if the day comes where I turn my gun on you? What if I lose myself? Or, or what if I just can't take it anymore–"

"Bell." You stop rambling. Adler took a puff of his cigarette, before exhaling. "That’s what we’re here for—”

"It's not that. It's here." You point to your head. "I can't even trust myself anymore. Earlier I started hearing Perseus. It was like he was there, but—" Your sigh in frustration. There was no good outcome when you thought of it. "Like, last night everything was fine. I was functioning like a normal human being. But now look at me, I can't think straight. One little look at the evidence board and I was on the floor. It won’t stop."

Something wet rolled down your cheek. Who the hell were you supposed to trust now?

"From prior experiences, both mine and others, in the end, it all comes back to you to make the decision as to whether or not you let those thoughts and feelings take over you." Adler rubs out the butt of his cigarette on a tray before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Still, if you need to talk to someone, anyone, we're here. I'm here. It may not be our field of expertise, but it's the least we can do. Some things we have to live with, and it's hard, but in the end you'll get through it."

How long has it been since you cried? You weren't sure if it was due to Adler talking to you, or if it was due to your feverish state, but there was no denying the heartache that grasped at your chest. You sniffled and hiccupped, rubbing your eyes with your palms to stop yourself from crying.

Stop crying.

"Bell, look at me."

You despised him. How he made you feel this way, the way he spoke in such high regard about you.

"[Y/N]."

You didn't want to. The moment you look at him is the moment you confront those emotions. You couldn't hate him, no matter how hard you tried. He did all this shit, and yet you couldn't do it.

It was decided since that day you survived Adler's bullet that you would hate the man. To cut him off and anything related to him out of your life, but it was inevitable. Now here you were, bawling your eyes out in front of him after hearing his side of the story. You told yourself to not let him catch you in your moment of weakness, yet he had a way with his words. You may have vowed to never forgive him, but it was damn obvious that he whole-heartedly regretted his actions, and was trying his hardest to make up for it.

In addition, just hearing him say your name for the first time… It was unbearable.

Adler gets up from his chair, placing a hand gently on your wrist and pulling your hand away from your puffy eyes. The strange feeling returned. Oh, how his hair looked soft; you wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through them. You just felt weak under his gaze, as if he knew what you were thinking.

Fuck.

"Sorry… It's just…"

You couldn't look at him.

He lets go of your arm. "You’re going to be okay."

Scooting to the side, you gave him some space to sit down. Adler's eyes dart between you and the empty spot, unsure whether or not he should take you up on the offer, but goes with the flow in the end.

Your heart was basically pounding against your ribcage, and you were too tired to depict the difference between your feverish symptoms or pure shyness. It felt weird. Adler was showing a side of him you've never seen before, and yet you felt almost honored.

"Do you really mean it?" you ask. "Everything you said?"

"You tell me. Does this face look like that of a liar?"

You grin a little, indulging in his stiff sense of humor. "I can't tell with your glasses on."

"Then take them off."

You almost forgot to breathe. "...What?"

"You heard me."

Adler was devilishly close, making it even more tempting. It was an odd demand from him, and yet you couldn't help bring a hand up. It hovered in the air next to his cheek, pausing to gauge a reaction from him. He was adamant on letting you do the work. Getting nothing else, you ethereally take his sunglasses, revealing his deep blue eyes. The man didn't even recoil as you did so, and instead just watched your movements in captivation.

"Well?"

"I… can't tell."

You were too distracted.

"Well, I'm not lying," he states, voice hoarse, yet pleasing on the ears. His eyes never strayed away and were instead engaged with yours. "Want to know the truth? Crying doesn't suit you."

"You think so?"

Adler leans in a bit and tilts his head, as if to get a better angle of your face. "For sure."

Unable to withstand it, you break eye contact, feeling bubbles arising within the pits of your stomach. Somehow, the temperature of your cheeks rose even more. “Thanks, I-I guess.”

You feel the tips of his fingers splay lightly on your chin, and he makes you turn your head back to him.

“Wha—” you start, only to freeze.

The both of you were practically touching noses, breathing each other in. You could smell the cologne on him. It wasn't too strong, but it was enough to accent his character. Some part of you was practically just yearning for him to close the gap– daring him to. It felt like the devil was tempting you, but you withheld yourself.

"I'm kind of sick, you know…" you disclose breathily. "Should we be this close?"

"Don't worry about it."

Without warning, he moved slightly, and his lips met yours.

It felt like time had stopped.

But the butterflies continued to flutter.

The fans in the background slowed to nothingness, and the music from the player was but an afterthought as the earbuds fell out of your ear.

His lips were softer than you imagined, and there was a lingering taste of nicotine. They were warm as they brushed against your own, and you could feel the soft tickle of his breath. You wanted to open your eyes to get a better look at Adler's face, but in the end they refused to open, his lips distracting you. The way they fell against yours almost seemed unreal, like they were meant to lock with each other. You brought a hand up, caressing his face as you trace the scars on his face, running over the little bumps with your thumb. The kiss was slow, yet tender, and you felt warmth blossoming from your chest.

You didn't know how long it lasted.

When the time came, you both pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open, lingering on his lips for a moment before they left.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he murmurs into your ear with a small smile. The hairs on the back of your neck stood as you listened to the low timbre of his voice; God, his voice.

"Yeah."

You couldn't even think, your mental cogs just slowing down. Your brain short-circuited the moment you both locked lips. The bastard practically stole your breath away.

The opportunity arose and Adler couldn't resist. Was he allowed to feel like this, despite everything he's done? He didn't intend to kiss you when he first walked in your room. The plan was to talk it out with you, maybe figure out the boundaries between you and him, but in the end the line was crossed.

Adler jerks his head back as this dawns on him. "Sorry, I–"

Fuck, what did he just do?

It was just in the heat of the moment—

"Thank you,” you say feebly.

Your head was turned away from him, pursing your lips in a tight line to save yourself from exposing your flustered state. You could see that he was having difficulty coming to terms that you two did in fact share a kiss, and it was a bit cute to see him fumble with his words, as opposed to his usual stoic demeanor.

"For what?"

"Whatever that was."

You look at your fingers, remembering that they were the same ones that glided over Adler's scar. You could still feel the ghost of his stubble rubbing against your palms, the scene just playing over and over in your head.

"A kiss?"

"I-I mean, for putting up with my bullshit," you stammer at his outspokenness. "And for the Walkman and watch, of course."

Adler gives out a laugh at your flustering as he stands up. It was one you haven't heard. Actually, did he ever laugh before? You couldn't remember if he did, or if he ever even smiled. It was like you were with someone new. Who would have thought Adler had a soft side to him?

"How'd you figure it out?"

"Well, no one else seemed to recognize it…"

“I'm glad you like them."

Sensing that he probably overstayed, Adler gets up from his spot, heading in the direction of the door in a bit of a rush manner. Was he still stunned with what had just occurred?

He opens the pill bottle from earlier, popping one into his mouth before tossing the container to you. “Here. Take a couple.”

You did as he told, the bitterness of it caking your tongue before you downed some water. The euphoria was beginning to die down, and you could feel your body once again trying to drag you to the floor. Adler’s hand reached out for the door handle, and a pang of disappointment and fear crossed your mind. "Wait—”

He raises an eyebrow, slipping his shades back on. "What’s up?”

“You're going already?"

"Those papers aren't going to finish themselves. I need my best cryptographer at their best, so get some sleep."

He was still diligent, like always. You lick your lips, hesitant. You didn't want him to leave yet. "Can you stay for a bit longer? Just until I fall asleep?"

“You’re not a kid.”

“I know, but…”

Trying to sleep was always the hardest part.

"You better knock out quick then," Adler indulges, noticing your painstaking scowl.

He gets comfortable in the wooden chair near the door, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket as you settle back into bed. You could already smell the ashes coming from him.

"Do you ever stop smoking?" you interrupt as he takes out a lighter.

Adler let out an irritable sigh, closed the lighter, and shoved the stick back into its place. He leans back in the chair, arms crossed with his foot on a knee. "You used to smoke too, you know."

"I did?" This was news to you.

"Oh yeah. During your initial interrogation, you would just laugh at us." He chuckles. "Even asked for a cigarette a couple times. It was a bit unsettling, even for my standards. Not only that, you had a sharp tongue. Colorful vocabulary. That was another thing we couldn't exactly get rid of."

At your request, Adler continued to talk about his own experiences. The topic of MK-Ultra was something you thought would be taboo to talk about, but, on the contrary, it was rather amusing to hear things from his perspective. Of course, he didn't get into the details of the procedure, but instead remarked about your growth from it: how you recovered unusually quickly from Arash's attempt to take you out the picture, or how he found it surprising as to how well you got along with the other members.

"We pulled everything we had in records, just trying to figure out who you were. Our informants in the KGB couldn't find anything either, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack."

You hummed in acknowledgement. "They made sure there was no evidence of my existence when I joined Perseus. Personal history and sentimental values were nothing but a hindrance."

"Sounds rough."

The conversation went on for a while, and the worries you had faded away. He took the opportunity to point out your weird habits. Adler found it amusing how you would fall asleep in the weirdest places, catching you sleeping in the red room while waiting for photos to develop, or on the floor in the garage.

You could feel the medicine kicking in with each story, and you could barely keep your eyes open within an hour.

"And your scar?" you mumble drowsily.

"That's a story for another time."

"No, tell me what happened."

"Still curious as ever… Alright, have you ever been attacked by a tiger, [L/N]? Cause I have. It was a mission back in seventy-three—"

"Wait a minute, that's not what you told me last time. You said you got mixed up with the wrong crowd."

"Did I? Age must be catching up to me."

"Cut the crap. Earlier I poured my soul out to you, at least tell me how you actually got it."

It was a long story.

Too long, actually.

Adler kept talking and adding random details until you fell asleep. It was a novel laced with lies and exaggerated events, as if he were telling some kind of adventure you only see in movies. From skydiving to fighting a tiger barehanded, Adler certainly had the enjoyment of toying around and making up stories of his scar on a whim. He was a great talker without a doubt.

His voice soothed you to sleep.

When he noticed that you were out like a light, Adler walked over to you, feeling your cheek. Your lashes twitched slightly upon contact, but nothing else. Your breath felt warm as it blew against his palms, but at least your temperature was already stabilizing.

You were shivering a bit, so he shaved off his black leather jacket and placed it over you. Stirring, you pulled it over yourself before rolling over.

His heart jumped as he took in your facial features. Just to see your face in such a complacent state made him relieved.

How could he not like you? You're a hard worker, not easily deterred; if you set your mind to it, you got it done without fail, although you were witty and a bit short-tempered. There were still the demons you had to take care of, and he wanted to assist you in getting rid of them. He owed it to you.

After reassuring that you were dead asleep, Adler left you to slumber.

It felt like a huge weight was pulled off of his chest, a two year burden finally taking its leave.

0000

The sun was beginning to set by the time you woke up. Blinking your eyes reluctantly, a blueish grey darkness began to settle in your room. The sheets were wrapped comfortably around your body, and your nauseating headache settled to a mere tick. For once you managed to get more than eight hours of sleep without being interrupted by repeating nightmares.

You get up and stretched, only to feel something heavy slide off your shoulders and land onto the floor below. Bending down, you come to recognize it as Adler's jacket, and it reminded you of what occurred that morning. A blush crept up to your cheeks.

Burying your face in embarrassment, his jacket smelled of cigarettes and cologne, with hints of soap.

It didn't mean anything, right?

Yet, you had a hard time convincing yourself it was anything but.

Heading out of your room, you came across a new cassette tape on the table, labeled MIX 2. You chuckle in amusement at his lack of creativity, but pop it into the player, removing the first one and placing it down. What kind of songs did Adler have in store for you now? His taste in music didn't seem definitive, the songs never failed to impress you.

Wandered into the main area, you could smell something good wafering through the air, and made it just in time for Lazar to return with dinner.

"Lo and behold, Lazar back at it again with the Chinese food," you comment as he plops the bags down on the table.

"Hey, it's good. Got your favorite right here." He hands you a tray, along with a small bowl of soup.

"Fuck, I'm starving." Woods wanders over as well, sifting through the containers until he finds his. He took a fortune cookie out of the bag before finally noticing you. "Oh, look who's finally awake! Feeling better, Bell?"

"Yeah." You take out a seat from under the table and sit. "Do you know what happened to the folder I had this morning? It had the stuff I was going to work on—"

"I think Adler took care of it."

"He decrypted the code?" you muse.

"Well, no. He probably had Sims do it."

Mason comes over, a few beer cans in his arms. Woods gives out an impressed whistle, taking one for himself and cracking it open. He takes a good swig, before giving out a quenched sigh of approval. "Now, that's the shit."

You chuckle at his reaction. The beer brand was nothing special of sort, yet Woods seemed to treat it like a luxury. "Did something good happen?"

"You tell me, Bell. How'd the conversation with Adler go?"

You pause, stabbing a plastic fork in your food before taking a bite. "Good, I guess."

"Damn Bell, don't leave us in the dark here." Woods voices his disappointment. "Loosen up a bit, take a drink. We're all friends here."

"I don't drink," you inform curtly, detecting underlying intentions stemming from this conversation.

"Aren't Russians the number one consumer of alcohol?"

"I'm sick, Woods. I don't think drinking will help me at the moment."

"You hear that? Bell's sick," Mason reiterates with a wry smile.

"Lovesick, more like," Lazar adds.

You were about to take another bite, but instead placed the utensil down, giving Lazar a dirty look. "What'd you say?"

"Bingo!" Woods crushes a can in his hands, tossing it into a nearby bin. "Bell has a—"

"What the fuck?" You slam a hand on the table. "Is this what you guys wanted to talk about?!"

"Come on, Bell. Adler spent a while in your room earlier, I was starting to think you killed him after all the yelling.”

“You heard that?”

Mason nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kinda..."

You thought back to this morning, reminiscing on Adler’s words. And how it ended. “You guys really shouldn't stick your nose into things. Something bad might happen."

"What kind of stuff?” Woods pries, leaning in a bit.

You dry laugh nervously. “Who knows? I'll think about it."

“I think Bell’s getting a bit defensive, Mason.”

“I think so too.”

Lazar points his plastic fork at you. “It went well, didn't it? I knew it. Adler came back to the garage in a good mood."

“I think you should all choose your next words carefully,” you growl, trying to ignore your heart hammering against your chest.

You didn’t like Adler. You hate the man. He shot you on the cliff. He…

Gave you the Walkman. Lended you his jacket. Comforted you during your moments of weakness. Kissed you.

Well, shit.

You bury your face into your hands.

“Is Bell blushing? Bell's blushing!” Woods nudges you with his elbow.

"I'm SICK!"

"Keep making excuses Bell, they might come true."

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Sure, whatever you say," Mason grins.

“See, what did I tell you Mason? Pay up." Woods holds out a hand. His friend grumbles, remembering the bet he made, and pulls out his wallet.

“Nope!" you exclaim, snatching the five dollars out of Mason's hand. “Here's how it's going to work: this conversation never happened. If I hear even a sliver of anything related to this, you better pray that you wake up the next day. Got it?"

If looks could kill, the three of them would drop dead at this very moment.

“...Pucker up, Bell's boyfriend is coming over," Mason comments, before downing a glass of water.

"What the f—"

"[L/N]."

All eyes turn to Adler, who had just hung up on the phone after a discussion with Hudson. He had no problem looking at you, and maintained a decent distance, despite both of you just having a tender moment just a few hours earlier. Props to him, you suppose.

"You have a minute?" he asks.

You clear your throat, giving a glare to the trio before closing the lid to your dinner and heading over to Adler.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"No," you assure. "You didn't."

“Anyways—" Adler hands you a thin file. "Hudson has something for you to do.”

“Again?”

Flipping through the contents, there was a transcript of a conversation between Belikov and the person of interest.

“He wants you to meet with someone. Apparently Belikov knows a guy who is willing to give us a tip. Only catch is he only wants someone to meet up with him, alone.”

You set the folder aside and cross your arms. “And why am I going?”

“Because you speak the same language?”

“But you speak Russian too.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, I’m kinda injured at the moment.” Adler gestures towards his abdomen. You roll your eyes.

"Hudson's been a bit keen on giving me missions," you point out, tucking the file under your arm. "When do I leave?"

"September, most likely."

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