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#not confident about the ground floor other than the kitchen and bathroom are next to each other cause plumbing
5231045 · 1 year
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attempting to map out 221b
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sharpfamily · 10 months
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Per Aspera Ad Astra
Happy Birthday to our favourite ex-auror potions professor! Three birthdays in the life of Aesop Sharp, brought to you by@tea-withjamandbread and @aesopsharpmybeloved. Part of collections A New Chance at Life as well as The Sharp Family Chronicles. Aesop Sharp x (adult) MC!reader
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word count: 9.4 k
tw: mentions of alcohol abuse, depression, suggestive content, tooth-rotting fluff
July 1st 1881
It’s been a few days since he’s been released from St Mungo’s. Again. Dinah still had a few more days to attend to her responsibilities in Hogwarts, however, for the time being, she seemed to trust Aesop not to do anything too crazy until the term officially ended. Aesop soon discovered that all of his liquor bottles, both empty and full, had disappeared. Wonderful. There was not a single drop of alcohol left in his house. At first he felt annoyed. Irritated. Already trying to think of a way to get at least a single drink, just a little something to take the edge off. 
He didn’t have an owl, and he couldn’t exactly Floo, much less walk to some shop or pub. Not in his current state. Wiggenweld potion could only do so much, and while it did heal the smaller cuts and scrapes and helped with the pain, his hands were still bandaged in order to keep the healing balm applied to them from drying up while it restored his mangled hands. If he didn’t look miserable before his breakdown, he absolutely looked miserable now.
There was no way he could go anywhere like this… and there was no way anyone would be willing to bring him anything either. Aesop didn’t know how many people knew about his collapse - he was certain Dinah would make sure the number was minimal - but he was absolutely certain his mother knew. Abraham too, possibly. And the very thought of flooiong one of his (now former) colleagues to ask them to send him a drink? He shuddered. No. They’d ask questions. They’d possibly come over. They couldn’t see him like this.
Dinah was right. As she usually was, of course. He probably should lay off the booze for a while. Aesop wheeled himself throughout the downstairs of his childhood home. The mirror in the ground floor bathroom was left nothing more than a frame - Dinah probably vanished all of the broken glass. As he slowly rode through his kitchen, a picture frame caught his eye. In it was a photograph, and Aesop almost couldn't recognise his own face in it. 
He didn’t even know why Ashley would get a camera - probably to take photos of her son, first and foremost - but she had brought it to his birthday dinner last year. She wasn’t a particularly good photographer, but a few nice shots were taken that night a year ago. This was one of them - he was standing by the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, actually looking quite handsome and very confident, Dinah next to him and Abraham on the other side. The photograph was moving like they were moving back then - grinning, laughing, clinking their glasses together.
And then, suddenly, Ashley appeared, peeking out from the corner of the photo, wanting to be in the picture while taking it. She looked like she always did - carefree, optimistic, confident. Her wild streak has lowered somewhat since she and her wife got their little boy, but she was still the kind of person who walked into the room and lit it up with her mere presence.
He wheeled over to the photograph and placed it face down on the shelf where it stood. He couldn’t look at it anymore. Those happy memories had been his reality only a year ago. To him, though, it felt like a century had passed. The man whose birthday was being celebrated in that photograph was someone else. A happy man with his whole life ahead of him. A man with a successful career, who still struggled with his love life to be certain, but who hadn’t given up on his dream of settling down and raising a family in the home in which he himself had spent his entire life. 
A family? He wasn’t sure he could even… Not that anyone would ever want that from him anymore. Who could see him as any more than the cripple that he was. That dream of having a family of his own died the moment he stepped on to that godforsaken ship. It had vanished the very moment he had led his partner, his oldest friend, the one he was supposed to protect, to her death. His hubris having cost her all of her dreams and plans as well.
He decided that the birthday captured in the photograph Ashley had taken would be the last one he celebrated. He would have more birthdays, of course, Dinah having knocked some sense into him after his breakdown. He had already been the cause of enough pain and suffering for those he cared about the most. So he would make a point to survive, to continue existing, for them, but he saw no need to boast about having circled the sun one more time. Not when his partner hadn’t circled it with him.
Suddenly he heard the door open. He wasn't expecting company, in fact he had specifically requested that no one visit him today. He didn't want to worry anyone but he also didn't want to face their feeble attempts at cheering him up, at making him feel special on the anniversary of his birth. He didn't want to see the sadness and pity in their eyes. They did their best to hide it, of course, but he knew it was there. He was a pitiful sight indeed. He wheeled himself around as fast as he could manage and drew his wand, not that it would do him much good in his current state, the bandages on his hands making his grip awkward. If it came to it, he didn't know if he'd even be able to defend himself and his home in the event of an unsavory intruder.
He recognized the footsteps instantly and pocketed his wand.
Of course she'd show up anyways. The nerve.
Dinah bloody Hecat.
He heard the door close and wheeled himself to greet his guest. He'd at least give her that courtesy. When the younger, now older looking woman appeared in his line of sight, he saw she had come armed with a large bag of groceries. She looked at him.
"You look like hell."
"Lovely to see you too."
Dinah walked right past him, heading straight for the kitchen. Aesop thought she might have walked straight into him if he hadn’t quickly wheeled himself backwards. He supposed he still retained some of his Auror reflexes even after everything.
Dinah set down her bag and started unloading everything, pulling out potatoes, carrots, parsnips, various herbs, a jar of broth, some dried mushrooms and a large piece of meat out of the bag. Aesop knew instantly that she had come here on someone else’s errand. She had never been much of a cook herself after all. Aesop however, recognized his mother’s venison stew when he saw it, even in its currently disassembled state. 
“Mum sent you, didn’t she."
It wasn't a question.
“She’s worried about you, Aesop. Especially today of all days”
“There’s nothing special about today. It’s just… a day”
“It’s your birthday, Aesop”
“Why does that even ma-“
Dinah dind't give him the time to finish, fixing him with a stare so intense, he had to stifle a tremble.
“It matters because 34 years ago your mother labored for about the same number of hours in order to bring you into this world. She then raised you along with your father until he was gone. Then she somehow found the strength to raise you AND provide for you by herself while grieving her own husband. It matters because she made sure you had everything you needed for your education, because she saw you through your Auror training AND career and earlier this year, she thought she’d be laying you to rest next to her husband instead of the other way around. So today, on the anniversary of your birth, even though YOU don’t want to see her, she STILL wanted to make sure you got to eat your favorite meal, so I am here, Aesop Theodore Sharp, on HER errand and I WILL see this through, even if I have to bind you to that infernal chair of yours and force feed you myself.”
Aesop pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his mother deserved better than the worry he had put her through not just this year, but during his entire career as an Auror. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that Dinah could, and would follow through with her threat. Hell, the woman could have taken him down at his peak, let alone the sorry state he currently found himself in.
"Dinah-"
"As I was saying, I'm not here to celebrate. I’m here to make sure you don't starve to death. Also this house needs tidying up… you know I'm always afraid of tripping over something or another when I visit you nowadays. My balance isn't the worst for someone my…well for someone with the body I have, but it's not getting any better"
It was easy for Aesop to forget that Dinah, while exhibiting a strong facade and with her fierce personality, still hadn’t fully made peace with her own career-ending injury. Although she had remade herself as Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he knew this was not her first choice. He would have to remake himself in due time, the pension he received from the Ministry barely covering his living expenses, but he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet at least.
Dinah busied herself browning the meat for the stew when she addressed her friend once more.
"You need to bathe, Aesop, you smell quite terrible."
"I… it's been a few days."
"I can tell. Do you need my help or can you manage on your own?"
"I think I can manage."
“Good."
Aesop wheeled himself to his bedroom where he carefully got undressed and discarded his clothes in the now overflowing laundry bin. Well, it wasn’t exactly his bedroom, the room had originally served as a study, however, following his injury, ascending the flight of stairs that led to his bedroom was no longer an option, so his mother had conjured a bed and had attempted to make the room as cozy as she could. He appreciated her efforts, but it just wasn’t the same. Nothing was, come to think about it. 
With a towel around his body for some semblance of privacy, he slowly made his way to the bathroom and took the bandages off his hands. They looked a little better today, but he would still need to reapply that healing balm for another week according to the Healers at St Mungo’s. He sat on the bench that had been conjured in the shower and turned the water on. He carefully went through the now considerably lengthy ritual of lathering his hair and body, being careful not to irritate his hands too much. 
The scars on his leg and face used to be excruciating, however the passage of time as well as rigorous desensitization as part of his shower routine had made them almost painless to the touch. If only his blasted leg would have improved in the same manner he’d maybe have a shot at a fulfilling life. However, he had been told to get used to it, to “learn to live” with his injury. He could never get used to this. He would never get used to it. Perhaps there was something out there that could help him.
He put those thoughts aside and shut the water off, dried himself and opened the door leading to his hopefully temporary bedroom. He instantly noticed that the windows had been opened, a warm summer breeze gently blowing in the large bedroom. His bed had been made, the overflowing laundry bin had been emptied and there were clean, comfortable clothes laid out on his bed, next to the armchair he sat on while getting dressed. 
That woman truly was incorrigible. As he got dressed though, he realized how nice it felt to breathe the fresh summer air that was cleansing the room, as opposed to the stale air he had been inhaling ever since he had been discharged from St Mungo’s. He hadn’t been opening the windows at night like he used to before his injury. In that moment, he remembered how much he enjoyed it, though. Tonight he’d make a point to open his bedroom windows before turning in. He also realized how his shower, how the simple turned not-so-simple act of washing his body had put him in a slightly better mood. He applied the healing balm to his hands and bandaged them before making his way towards the door.
As Aesop left his bedroom, he could already smell the stew Dinah had prepared, which had just started to simmer. He could also smell the freshly brewed tea she had prepared. As he approached her, seated at the dining room table, the chair that would normally be next to her having been vanished in what he assumed was an invitation to join her, he noticed she had already poured them both a cup, and that she was currently poring over his mail, which had accumulated over the past week. He hadn’t bothered to sort through any of it since returning home.
“Still only cream in your tea?”
“Of course”
Dinah handed him his cup as well as a pile of letters
“These require your immediate attention”
“I’ll… make sure I deal with them, then”
Dinah handed him a quill, barely looking up from her organizing.
“No time like the present, Aesop.”
Aesop took the quill without argument and started filling out the various forms Dinah had given him. Applications for additional disability pay from the Ministry, tax forms, appeal letters to send to the Ministry requesting they cover the various experimental treatments he had received to attempt to heal his injury sustained in the line of duty. Once in awhile Dinah added a form or two to his workload, while sorting out the mail she deemed as rubbish.
“This one appears to be an offer letter fo work for the Auror recruitment program”
“They told me to 'take all the time I need' but they’re really hoping I don’t need time at all don’t they. That I’ll just bounce back, so to speak.”
“It would appear so”
Aesop sighed. “I’m not ready, Dinah. I can barely take care of myself at the moment. I can barely even walk from here to the front door of my own house. How could I-”
Dinah placed her hand on his
“You don’t have to accept the position right now, Aesop. I read the letter and they appear willing to wait for you to recover more before you’d-”
“I’m not sure I even want that job. I don’t think it would be right for me to take it”
“You can think about it later. For now, let’s get us some fresh air.”
Dinah stood up and made her way towards the side door, past the kitchen, where the stew she had prepared was still simmering. Aesop followed her outside. She sat on the stone bench closest to the house, overlooking the now quite unkempt garden. Aesop wheeled himself right next to her, a difficult feat on the uneven terrain. He really ought to get walking again, lest he spend the rest of his life confined to his house. They sat in comfortable silence.
“That stew does smell delicious. You did a great job.”
“Well, your mother was very clear in her instructions. All I did was follow.”
“You did so much more than that.”
“I know you’d have done the same for me. You did, in fact, if I remember correctly.” Aesop had been there for her when Dinah had been wounded on the job. He had been there at the hospital, and had helped her tremendously when she moved back to her home. He had even offered for her to move back in with him. They were no longer romantically involved, but he had still been ready to put his life and plans on pause to help her in any way he could. She had declined his kind offer but appreciated it nonetheless.
“Yes, well… that’s what friends are for, I suppose.”
They had been through so much together. A failed romantic relationship turned friendship for the ages. They had each seen each other at their worst and would eventually make peace with their respective situations, and see themselves at their best once more. For now, though, the present moment was all that existed.
"You know, you told me I'd hate you come September… you're going to try a lot harder to get me to that point."
"Term just ended. I have plenty more time now to be a thorn in your side."
Aesop chuckled, perhaps for the first time in a long time
"Thank you for being here today."
July 1st 1893
The last week of school flew by in front of Aesop’s eyes. Exams were done, and both teachers and students could breathe a sigh of relief. He had helped his sweetheart settle into the little house she rented at the edge of Hogsmeade throughout the last few days, her various books and tomes, the majority of her clothes, the little knick knacks and memorabilia she collected during her three years at Hogwarts. 
And, of course, the beasts. Some would be released back into the wild, as the poachers throughout the Highlands severely lessened in numbers, following this insane (former) Ravenclaw student crashing into their operations. A few more vulnerable ones would be found new homes, as would be the girl’s new apprenticeship at Brood and Peck, and some she simply wished to keep and care for herself. With Aesop’s help, they transfigured the inside of a large chest into something of a Sanctuary for the beasts his love would be keeping. Deek aided in their relocation, having a hard time saying goodbye to them. (F/N) had promised the elf he was welcome to visit them whenever he wanted.
The Seventh year’s ball rolled around, then graduation, then the teary-eyed departure of most of the students on the Hogwarts express. Aesop wouldn’t admit it, but he too had shed a few tears all those years ago, when he boarded that train for the last time. 
Today, however, was not a day for tears. It was Saturday, which meant his sweetheart had two more days to settle in and get her bearings before officially beginning her adult life and her new job. She usually woke up before him, but it seemed the turbulent few days left the young woman in a state of exhaustion. It was the first time she spent the night in her new abode, and Aesop graciously agreed to help her find  out if the bed was any good. 
Well, it definitely wasn’t as good as the bed he slept in at Hogwarts, nor the one in his own house, being softer than he was used to. However, he noted that his back wasn’t troubling him upon waking up, which was a small victory. Much bigger victory currently craddled in his arms. His beautiful young lover was curled into his side, her breathing soft and even, her hair matted and messy with sleep, and a bit of drool was dried upon her jowl. The potions master thought she looked like a dream come true. 
He took in his surroundings, the room was unfamiliar and had yet to be lived in, but it had every bit the potential to become a very cozy bedroom. The floors were straight and firm, the wallpapers pleasant to the eyes, the windows let in a lot of natural light. Speaking of the windows, they were currently open to let the fresh summer morning air in, and Aesop could hear the wizarding village waking up and coming to life. In a few hours, the streets would be filled with people enjoying what was looking to be a sunny Saturday. Aesop closed his eyes again with a content little hum, burrowing further into the light smooth sheets and his sweetheart’s arms.
It all still felt rather surreal, really. Every single night he went to bed with the lovely Ravenclaw, he expected to wake alone and realize it's all been nothing but a dream. And while he did wake up alone on quite a few mornings, it took only a few seconds for him to know that it certainly hadn't been a dream. There was the faint floral scent of his lover's perfume clinging to his sheets, to his pillows, to him. It was all around him in this intoxicating vapor, mingling with the cool air around him. There was sometimes a note, carefully folded upon one of the seats of the large leather sofa, directly in his field of view from the bed. There was the absence of the shirt he wore the previous day…
Even now, when she was resting in his arms, soft, warm and absolutely real, Aesop bit into his bottom lip to make sure it wasn't a dream. He was startled then, as a sudden loud sound came from outside, followed by some more commotion and the frustrated voice of Zonko's shopkeeper. Probably a firework gone haywire. The young girl stirred against him, groaning quietly.
"Good morning, you," Aesop said softly, a smile appearing on his face on its own accord. His beloved tilted her head and her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was Aesop, and he felt his heart throb, when her own face stretched in a smile, her sleepy eyes immediately filled with love and devotion. She looked around the room then, an adorable little line between her eyebrows as she slowly began to realise she wasn't in Aesop's chambers, nor was she in her dorm. 
And then it hit her. The young woman released a breathy chuckle and her legs curled around one of Aesop's own. The potions master felt her warm cheek on his collarbone, he felt her hands caress his furry torso. It was then he had a little realisation himself - his sweetheart was also making sure she wasn't dreaming. And it was this knowledge that made him drop his head back onto the pillow, his eyes closing in bliss. 
“Good morning, Aesop,” she whispered before raising her head a little to place a kiss between his jaw and his chin. She released a soft sigh then, gently resting her forehead against his collarbone once more. Aesop’s heart beat loudly in his chest, and he was certain she knew it was only for her. “Merlin, it's so strange… no homework, no essays, no studying… so strange to wake up and know that I don’t have to do anything...” On her mouth was a content smile, very much reminding Aesop of a kneazle that got the cream. “Oh, yes,” he answered, voice light and teasing, “for exactly two days. Then off to work with you!” The girl snorted against his skin, and when she lifted her head again, Aesop was nearly certain she was keeping herself back from sticking out her tongue at him.
“Besides,” he continued, his large hands stroking over her sides and back, relishing at the feeling of her silky soft skin under his calloused fingertips, “don’t forget that you’re not in Hogwarts anymore. There are no house elves - you cook for yourself, clean after yourself, the full deal.” She was lazily twirling strands of his chest hair around her index finger, her face absolutely relaxed: “I can do that. I think. I can cook a little, and I tend to keep things tidy. It’s just… Well, my household spells are still a bit shabby. I think I’m going to get frustrated trying to wash the dishes using magic, and will end up just doing it by hand anyway.” Aesop chuckled, the girl atop his chest bouncing softly with the motion. “All in good time,” he said, “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and just like everything else, household spells need to be practiced in order to be perfected. I can help you with that.”
They lay in the girl’s bed, legs entwined, just enjoying the calm summer morning. “What will you be doing, by the way, now that you’ve no classes to teach and school work to grade for the next two months?” She inquired curiously. “Me? Oh, I’ll be staying in your bed every day, teasing you that you have to go to work!” the potions master grinned and promptly received a playful smack to the chest. “No, no. I still have some unfinished things at Hogwarts, not to mention my trunk’s still in my chambers, terribly unpacked, I'm afraid. There’s several teacher meetings during the summer as well. I’ll be brewing potions for the hospital wing throughout the two months so that it’s all stocked up for the following term. I'll be revising the curriculum - though I hardly ever make changes to it - and I also need to tidy up the house a bit. It does get dusty after ten months. However, that all can wait. It can definitely wait for the two free days.”
And so Aesop Sharp and (F/N)(L/N) spent the beautiful July day simply enjoying their freedom and their company. The young woman insisted on preparing their breakfast by hand, and while it was ‘just’ scrambled eggs and some toast, Aesop was certain they were the best scrambled eggs he’d ever eaten, simply because they were prepared by her and he was able to enjoy them in her company alone. 
Afterwards he showed her how to properly clean the dishes with magic, starting with a single teacup. They picked up and cleaned the singular dishes back and forth, until everything was clean. A single flick of Aesop’s wand summoned a towel from a hook, which promptly began drying the dishes clean. Another flick, and the dry ones floated to their respective spaces and stored themselves. With a smile, he observed his young lover’s awed expression. “No worries,” he promised, “you’ll have perfected it before the year is done.”
They decided to go for a little stroll along the banks of the Black lake later, talking softly, basking in the sunlight. Aesop, whose entire wardrobe was still at Hogwarts, chose to only wear his trousers, shirt and waistcoat, opting to leave his jacket and overcoat behind, as it was entirely too warm to wear them. He still applied a little cooling charm on all articles of his clothing for comfort. When his sweetheart got dressed, he realised that it really had not been often he saw her out of her uniform or her adventuring ensembles. He certainly couldn’t wait to remedy that, he thought, as he observed the dress she chose for their outing. It was light, sleek and simple, and it complimented all of her curves perfectly. She saw him staring and actually twirled for him with a wink. Little minx.
Aesop offered his arm to her, and his heart squeezed tightly at the display of emotion he saw in her eyes when she immediately accepted it. They walked all the way to the spot she brought him during their late night hippogriff flight. “You know, back then I had to use all of my energy not to just turn my head and kiss you,” (F/N) laughed quietly, a small blush on her cheeks. Aesop grinned and looked towards the dark, murky water, remembering that spring night. He could almost see the memory in front of his eyes. His sweetheart skipping stones at the shore, him standing behind her, longing.
A shuffle next to him brought him out of his thoughts. The young woman was currently pulling off her summer dress, baring the skin of her legs. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes as big as saucers. Normally, her taking off her clothes would get nothing but positive feedback from him, however, seeing as they were out in the open, in broad daylight, he very much doubted the woman had some tender fun on her mind right now. She grinned at him giddily as she finally managed to escape the fabric and folded it haphazardly. She disposed of it on the same boulder he leaned against over a year ago, her shoes already sitting on it, and, with a wink, began running towards the water, in nothing but her chemise and drawers. 
“No way…” the potions master shook his head, even as the corners of his mouth began twitching. And then, with a single tiny squeal, (F/N) threw herself head first into the Black lake. He was smiling fully now, finding her youthful playfulness and unadulterated joy incredibly endearing. He walked closer to the water’s edge. His sweetheart emerged a second later, drenched from head to toe, grinning wildly. She was slightly flushed from the cold, but otherwise looked in utmost bliss.
“I hope you don’t expect me to jump in after you,” he said wryly, crossing his arms over his chest. The woman laughed with all the meriness of a child. She swam closer to the shore for a bit, so that she could stand while she pushed her wet hair out of her face: “Honestly, I was rather hoping you would, but I’m not going to force you. Although I’m telling you, you’re missing out!” And with that, she leaned back and began idly floating on her back. 
Aesop looked at her form. The white chemise was clinging to her body, her skin showing through the wet material. Dropping the cooling charm he put on his clothes, he noticed just how hot the day turned. Suddenly the water seemed all the more appealing. He admired the curves of his lover’s body, his hands already itching to trace them as he unconsciously pulled at his own clothes. He knew she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, actually saw her roll her eyes a little as he conjured a small leather holster for his wand and tied it around his bony ankle and shin. 
She rolled around to look at him fully when he took a step after step towards the water. Despite the hot weather, the water was cold, and it nipped at his skin, but Aesop didn’t let that stop him. Another step. The water was now at his calves, then knees, and getting higher. He winced slightly when he was half submerged, baling his hands into fists as he battled the cold. But then he saw her little smirk, the challenge still shining in her eyes. With a huff, Aesop dived under the water. The sudden shock his body experienced was quickly overcome when he saw his sweetheart’s legs underwater, kicking slowly to keep her afloat. 
He grabbed her just above her knees and rose above the surface. He faintly heard her little squeal before a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and her playful eyes connected with his own. Her legs found purchase around his waist and he released them in favour of curling his own arms around her waist. He stared triumphantly into her eyes for a moment, before chasing her lips in a very wet and a little cold kiss, prompting a happy humming sound from his beloved.
Aesop was done with missing out.
It was late afternoon when they returned to (F/N)'s new abode. They spent the better part of the day by the water, swimming, playing, and simply relaxing. While his sweetheart busied herself with conjuring up a blanket for them to sit on on the bank, Aesop cast just a few protective wards around them, so that they could enjoy themselves in solitude and safety. He couldn't even remember the last time he's had a day like this. They swam, they rested on the blanket, they swam some more. It was so simple, and yet Aesop's heart was fluttering with absolute contentment. Once they dried themselves, got dressed, vanished the blanket and dropped the wards, they simply apparated back to the little house. The potions master prepared a dinner for them with magic, since they were both starving by the time they arrived.
His sweetheart watched in amazement as some of the various food items she brought over to her new home the previous day floated about, cut themselves up perfectly and arranged themselves around a small baking dish. Chicken legs with roasted vegetables it was. Within just a few seconds, their food was ready, looking amazing and smelling even better. They ate their fill in a comfortable silence until: "You know, this is spectacular, and I'd surely like to learn how to do it," she said quietly, "however, I actually quite enjoy cooking by hand." Aesop chuckled, piercing a baked potato onto his fork: "So do I. Many people do, this is just quick and convenient. And while it tastes alright, you'd be moaning at the taste was I to prepare it by hand," he spoke confidently. His young lover giggled into her food: "You can still make me moan tonight, if you want to."
Aesop very much wanted to.
Later, as they were coming down from their highs, snuggled perfectly in each other's arms, the professor took some time to reflect. He really could not remember the last time he had such an amazing birthday… he tended to even forget he had one, not having celebrated it since that fateful day twelve years ago. But today, despite his sweetheart not knowing that on this day, 45 years ago, Aesop Theodore Sharp took his first breath, she very much made him feel like the birthday boy.
He cuddled up even closer to her, his strong arms squeezing her frame, still hot from their previous activity. His lips found hers in a deep kiss and afterwards, the professor rested his forehead against her own, breathing the same air as her. "I want to thank you…" he said quietly, only for her ears to hear, "this was the best birthday I've had in years."
He could feel her body tensing immediately. "Today's your birthday?" she asked, raising her head to look at him. Her beautiful eyes were wide and filled with panic: "Why didn't you tell me? I don't- I don't even have a present for you." He quickly pulled her up for a kiss, stroking her back in a calming matter. "I haven't celebrated my birthday for a long time... And as for a present - why, you already gave it to me!" His sweetheart fixed him with a curious gaze and Aesop sighed: "To be able to hold you, kiss you, love you… this entire day was the greatest gift I could've asked for. To have your heart in my hands, that is the most precious thing I've ever been given." 
The young woman sighed as well, and wrapped her delicate arms around him, nuzzling into his neck momentarily before raising her head up again, a brilliant smile on her face, a smile of love, devotion and incredible joy: "Still, we should celebrate. You deserve a day to be spoiled rotten!" 
"You are already spoiling me rotten!"
"Hah, I try to, but we should still celebrate. Let me take you to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow for a meal. We can have a good bite, champagne, who knows, perhaps Sirona will be able to get us a cake!"
Aesop chuckled, his cheeks warming up somewhat. It was strange - the idea of actually celebrating his birthday after he hadn't done so for so long. However, as strange as it felt, he could already feel the pleasurable tickling of anticipation. "Alright…" he breathed then, "if you want to. But know that I would've been happy enough to just spend the day in your company." 
His sweetheart fixed him with an intense gaze, her eyes sincere: "I want to. Because I finally can. We spent so much time sneaking around, I long to finally be able to show how I feel openly. I want to grab your hand in mine when we walk together, I yearn to be able to kiss and hold you whenever I wish. And I really want to celebrate that on this day, the most incredible man was born. I don't know what I'd do without you here. Perhaps I wouldn't be here myself, if you hadn't gone to the Astronomy tower that day. You are an exceptionally beautiful existence, Aesop Sharp, and your birthday should be celebrated."
The potions master swallowed heavily, willing away the tears that threatened to form in his eyes. Her confession shook him to his core, and, in that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to hold her in his arms. Aesop truly did not think he'd ever celebrate his birthday again. Since Ashley's death, he really thought that he wasn't entitled to do so. But perhaps his sweetheart hadn't been entirely wrong. Perhaps him saving her life tipped the scales a little. If Ashley could see him now… well, she'd probably smack his shoulder very hard and tell him to pull his head out of his arse and seize the chance he's been given, like a proper Slytherin would. In that moment, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, and his breathing slowly evened out.
"Alright, my sweet," he said only, as her face once more nuzzled into his shoulder, more than content to stay there. Aesop breathed out slowly, his arms wrapping around the young woman's body in a protective manner.
The room was dark and Aesop could hear sounds of the village outside falling asleep. He could hear faint music coming from the Three Broomsticks, and he heard silent voices caught in a conversations, as their owners passed by the little house. The air smelled sweet with the sun having warmed it the entire day. Aesop closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of love, of comfort.
The next day, his sweetheart did exactly as she promised. She walked with him into the Three Broomsticks, hand in hand, looking proud and happy. She kissed him out in the open, before they even opened the door to the pub, absolutely uncaring to whoever saw them. The look she gave him afterwards… Aesop realised that she did want to do that for some time. That the fact that she was his own filled her with pride. That the young woman, who defeated a troll during the first week of her studies, willingly gave her heart to one ex-Auror potions professor. In a moment of giddy madness, Aesop grabbed her around the waist, dipped her ever so slightly, and snogged the living daylights out of her.
"Are you quite done? Your stew's getting cold," came the voice of Sirona Ryan, who was leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous look in her eyes. Aesop fixed his sweetheart with a curious look. 
"I may have written to professor Hecat to ask what's your favourite food when you were still sleeping," she admitted with a shy smile, "and I also may have written to Sirona, asking her to prepare it for you, as well as get us a cake afterwards." Sirona watched the scene unfold before her eyes, a big smile on her face: "Happy birthday, Professor Sharp." "Thank you, Sirona." 
It truly seemed his life was to be filled with strong-willed and strong-minded women. He was quite the lucky man.
July 1st 1908 
It was morning in the Sharp household and a summer breeze gently blew through the open window of Mr and Mrs Sharp's bedroom. The gentle sound of birds chirping could be heard but didn't wake the occupants of the bedroom, currently soundly asleep in each other's arms. A sound did manage to rouse Mrs Sharp though. The pitter patter of little feet and the creaking of floorboards. 
Someone was awake. Actually, judging by the sound of it, more than one of the children was on the move. She knew the children had been looking forward to surprising their father with breakfast in bed for his birthday, but she hadn't managed to piece together much more than that. She didn't know what they were planning to prepare, and thought it would probably be best if she made her way downstairs to assist or, at the very least, supervise.
As gently as she could, she tried to extricate herself from her husband's grip without waking him up. It was still early and she wanted to let him sleep for a little bit. Aesop had other plans though, having been woken by his wife's feeble attempt at leaving their shared bed. 
"Where do you think you're going, darling?"
He pulled her towards him and held her close, her back completely flush against his front. She could feel his morning arousal as he kissed her neck. 
"You weren't just going to leave me to wake up by myself, today of all days."
He continued gently nipping at her neck, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on her skin. With a sigh, she melted into his embrace and he took the opportunity to gently turn her on her back, moving his hands along her body and moving his kisses to her collarbones, her body semi-trapped underneath his large frame.
It had taken some number of years, but eventually (F/N) had managed to convince her husband that his birthday was a day that deserved to be celebrated, and he eventually got to enjoy being the center of attention for just this one day a year. Perhaps a little too much at times! It seemed as though he was already quite eager to unwrap his birthday present from her.
This morning, though, as much as she enjoyed the way his kisses and touch were slowly lighting her body on fire, as much as she wanted to give in and give him what he wanted, what they both wanted, she knew she needed to make her way downstairs, before their children would have the chance to set fire to the kitchen. However the feeling of her husband's very experienced hands making their way towards her more sensitive areas, the knowledge that his mouth would soon follow, was enough to make her momentarily forget about the possible disaster that she would find downstairs should she choose to indulge her husband.
"Aesop I-"
"Hmmm"
Aesop knew what he was doing. He trailed kisses down her abdomen and she knew then and there that she had lost the battle. She'd deal with the chaos later. Right now there was only one person that existed in the world and that person was about to…
CLANG!
The loud sound coming from the kitchen put an instant end to the couple's morning's activities, their arousal instantly replaced with concern. Concern for the structural integrity of their home, as well as the safety of its occupants. Aesop begrudgingly made his way back up to the head of the bed.
"I should go investigate that."
"Probably a good idea. Let's go see what the rascals are up to now."
"YOU are going to stay right here, sir, and act surprised when the children bring you whatever it is they planned on making you for your birthday breakfast. I will go downstairs and make sure we still have a house by the time they're done."
Aesop gave her a mock pout as his wife quickly got herself dressed for the morning.
"Don't worry, love. I'll make sure you get to unwrap your birthday present… after the rascals are in bed."
One quick kiss from his wife before she swiftly left the room and quietly closed the door.
Aesop heard his older son speak right outside the bedroom door, he had probably been on the way to ask for his mother's help with whatever it was the children had planned.
"Is he still asleep, Mum?"
His wife whispered
"Still sound asleep, dear."
"Brilliant!"
"Shhhhhh"
Eleazar lowered his voice
"Right. Quiet"
"Let's get downstairs"
Down they went and Aesop was left with his thoughts. He could hear the faint buzzing of his family in the kitchen, his wife no doubt deferring to their children's plans for his breakfast and letting them do as much as they were able to manage on their own. He remembered his birthday breakfast in bed from the previous year with fondness. A half burnt over-salted omelet along with biscuits (slightly undercooked), tea (weak) and a bowl of strawberries he ended up having to surrender to his 3 year old twins. It had been quite unpalatable, but seeing the pride in his children's eyes when they had told him they had cooked everything themselves had made the meal the best birthday breakfast he had ever had. He knew the children would outdo themselves this year.
He had been a father for a whole decade by now, but sometimes he still couldn't believe that the rambunctious bunch that was currently being supervised by his darling wife, those four bundles of joy and chaos, were his. That this was his life now. He had known as a young man that he wanted children and had given up on this dream at one point of his life. He had never expected though, that he could love these four little people as much as he did.
He was pulled out of his reverie by the smell of bacon. Wonderful, he thought, one can only mess up bacon so much! He knew his family would enter the bedroom any minute now to “wake him up” so Aesop laid down on his side of the bed, turned away from the door and closed his eyes. He heard the door creak open.
“He’s still sleeping”
“Shhhhh”
“Wait, no we need to wake him up!”
“I can do it!”
“Alright dear but be gentle”
“Okay Mum”
“Thedodore don’t jump on-”
Aesop felt the bed dip and braced himself for what he was sure was an incoming tackle from a rambunctious four year old.
“Hmphhh”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!”
“My birthday isn’t until next week Theodore”
The boy stood up and looked at his mother in confusion
“He’s just pulling your leg, dear”
“That’s right, I’m just” Aesop physically tugged at his son’s legs, causing him to land flat on his back on the soft bed and dissolve in a fit of giggles “messing with you!”
The former professor looked at his family. Everyone was still in their pajamas, some of his children's clothes bearing the proof of their efforts in making his breakfast, little spots of dried batter the most evident. Both his daughters' hair were still in the braids he had woven the previous evening, now with stray strands sticking out in odd directions from their slumber. Theodore obviously hadn't brushed his hair yet, while Eleazar looked as put together as he usually did, wearing a light dressing gown and bearing the least bits of Aesop's breakfast on his clothes. He caught his wife's eyes - they were shining with pride. She was, of course, completely clean, her silky dressing gown as pristine as it had been before she left the bedroom. 
Four pairs of his own brown eyes stared up at him with excitement and anticipation, and Aesop felt his heart swell when he saw the perfect mix of himself and his wife in each of their beautiful children.
Maggie approached her father with a tray.
“We made you breakfast in bed!”
Aesop took a look at the tray from his daughter and from what he could see, the children HAD outdone themselves. He was right about the bacon, there were also scrambled eggs, pancakes, a lovely fruit salad, a cup of tea, and a small bowl filled with chocolate chips. 
“I cooked the eggs and the bacon and I tried to flip the first pancake, but it didn’t turn out nice, so we tossed it, then Mum helped me make the second one but the one on top I did all by myself!”
“That’s wonderful Maggs.”
“And (F/N) and Theo were in charge of mixing the fruit salad and filling the chocolate chips.” 
“That salad looks expertly mixed, thank you. Eleazar, what did you do to help?”
“I measured out everything for the pancake batter AND I brewed the tea. I even used the scales like you taught me!” 
Eleazar spoke with great pride. Last year his father had started to teach him the basics of potionmaking and the lad had taken to the craft like a fish to water. Aesop took a sip of his tea.
“That’s some very good tea, Thank you Eleazar”
The boy beamed.
The twins each sat on one side of him and Aesop made sure to grab himself a handful of chocolate chips before the inevitable happened and he’d have to surrender the sweets to his youngest children. 
“Alright, everyone, let’s let Dad eat his breakfast in peace now. Then we can all have fun. Shop’s closed today so we get to keep Dad all to ourselves for the day.”
(F/N) herded the children out of the bedroom and handed Aesop what was left of his little bowl of sweets. 
“Enjoy your food, darling, I’ll get the little ones dressed then we can do whatever it is you’d like.”
She gave him a kiss before leaving the room. Aesop was pleased to find out that everything had been seasoned well this year, most likely due to Eleazar’s precise measurement of ingredients. Once his breakfast had been eaten, Aesop got dressed and did his morning hygiene before joining his family downstairs, empty tray in hand. The weather seemed nice, perhaps they could go to the beach for a picnic and a swim.
The potions master walked into the kitchen, which actually bore less signs of the breakfast preparation than his children's clothes did. No doubt his wife's prompt work with a wand. His eyes were caught by the sight of many moving photographs displayed on a shelf. Aesop stopped for a moment, looking at the pictures fondly. The photo with Ashley taken 28 years ago on this very day was proudly standing among other happy photos. There was a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day, grinning at each other,  both looking incredible as well as incredibly in love. His sweetheart still looked at him this way, even 12 years after that beautiful June day, and he knew he did as well. There were the newer pictures, his children at various ages, from mere babies and toddlers, to a very recent photo of Maggie holding a very fluffy Puffskein. And then, there were some older ones, too. A moving photo of young Aesop, taken the day he got into the Auror program, looking proud and confident, as well as a single completely still photo of his dear wife, taken by a Muggle camera.
Aesop deposited the tray into the sink and with a flick of his wand, the dishes got to cleaning themselves. His wife walked towards him and put her arms around his abdomen, pressing herself against his back.
“You’re not supposed to be doing any dishes today.”
“It’s nothing, besides you already have your hands full with the children.”
“They can take care of themselves… mostly.”
Aesop turned around to face his wife. They had circled the sun many times together but she still looked as young and beautiful as the day he married her.
“I was thinking I’d like to take everyone to the coast for lunch, let the children play in the water.”
“Only the children?”
“I suppose we could also go for a dip, for old time’s sake.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
He leaned in and captured her lips in a quick kiss, before being interrupted by Maggie and Eleazar. 
"Dad, how old are you turning?" Aesop decided not to volunteer that information. The former teacher in him made him want to make his children work for the answer.
"Well let's see. I was born in the year 1848 and this is the year 1908."
The children to looked at their mother "Don't look at me, you know how to subtract."
The two eldest rushed to find the nearest quill and parchment and got to work, eager to get an answer to their burning question. 
Aesop let out a sigh. He was hitting a milestone today. "Oh come on, dear. If it makes you feel any better you don't look a day over fifty."
Aesop chuckled and pulled his wife close. "Thank you. It's strange, though. I don't feel old. Merlin knows I feel better now than I did for most of my thirties. My life significantly improved in my forties"
“I wonder what happened then”
“I met this incredible woman, you see, got to know her, fell in love with her, somehow she decided she’d entrust her heart to me. Sometimes I still don’t understand what she saw in an old cripple but - don’t give me that look, that’s what I was at the time - in any case, loving her was what turned my life around for the better. And now we have these incredible-”
“SIXTY!”
Both parents chuckled. “Well done, you two.” “That’s… six times as old as I am!” “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that Magdala Dinah Sharp”
Later that day, the family of six found themselves at the beach, all four children playing in the water, both older siblings keeping an eye on the younger children whose swimwear had been enchanted to keep them afloat. Aesop and (F/N) sat on a blanket basking in the sunlight and taking in the scene.
The gentle rocking of waves filled the air around with a soft fizzing sound, broken by the cries of seagulls. Aesop could hear other birds singing from somewhere behind them in the trees. The sounds of nature combined with the giddy squeals and chattering of his children was like a symphony of absolute peace in Aesop's ears. He looked at his beloved, and saw her eyes reflecting the same utter contentment that was held in his own.
A thought crossed Aesop's mind and with a mischievous smile, he whispered in his wife’s ear “I’ll bet you a kiss I can beat you to the water”
She looked at him, her smile matching his own “Hmm I don't know… I wouldn't want to make you look bad on your birthday” she teased, but standing up as to indicate she accepted his challenge "We'll see about that…" the potions master teased back
The children watched with amusement as both their parents suddenly broke into a full blown sprint towards the sea when suddenly a faint “pop” was heard and Aesop disappeared, immediately appearing in the water, a few meters behind the children.
“You cheat!”
“We never said apparition wasn’t allowed” Aesop swam over to the children who were all giggling. (F/N) finished making her way towards the water before taking a few steps in. Once she was able to, she dove in and swam over to meet the rest of the family.
“I’ll be claiming that kiss now”
“You cheated. I think that kiss is mine to claim”
“As you wish”
Aesop made his way over to his wife, gently kissed her lips before moving around her and wrapping his arms around her waist, both of them watching the children resume their play, Eleazar and Maggie having apparently decided on a little swimming race of their own as the twins tried to keep up.
“Thank you.”
“Whatever for?”
“For today. For every day we get to spend together.”
A few days from then, Aesop and (F/N) would celebrate his birthday once more, sans children, in a private room at the Three Broomsticks surrounded by their close friends. Today, though, Aesop couldn’t imagine spending the day in better company. 
Years had passed since the incident that took his partner’s life and nearly took his own. Years had passed since the simple task of making it through the day appeared monumental. Years had passed since he had made the decision that another circle around the sun wasn’t something to celebrate but rather something to feel guilt over. Today however, he felt nothing but gratitude for those who had pulled him out of the abyss where he once dwelled, who had patiently walked beside him, and who had lifted him higher than he ever thought possible, so high, in fact, he swore he could touch the stars.
Fin.
@aesopsharpmybeloved: I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read this story, and I'd especially like to thank @tea-withjamandbread who wrote with me. Being able to read the wonderful words she used and build this story (that I frankly love and will re-read many times myself) has meant so much to me and brought me a lot of joy. To everything we'll yet create together! <3 -Tess
This story is also be available on AO3. We'll be very grateful for any feedback!
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thelustdevil · 7 months
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Take this next bit of writing however you want. It’s mainly me rambling based on a mix of things I’m going through right now & the idea of grieving a significant other. This isn’t written in any universe but I did rewrite my original thoughts with the ability to imagine a chosen character as the POV.
When sudden tragedy strikes the small home you’ve built with your partner. They find struggling with your absence is never a linear process.
tw: grieving, death (no explicit description), depression, hopeful ending. Written from their POV.
I wake up in a cold sweat. Gasping for air as I frantically pat the space next to me before abruptly stopping. What am I looking for? You’re not there, not for a while now. I sigh as I run a hand over my face, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Time to wake up I suppose.
The floor is cold when I slide out of bed and stand. The ache in my muscles greeting me as I stretch. It fades as I walk, while the ache in my heart remains.
I’m missing the comfort of your energy. It’s painfully obvious at this point. The house is quiet, empty even, without you here. You were the warmth that kept it together. That kept me together.
Grabbing a single cup for coffee feels wrong now. Only making enough breakfast for one carries a weight I’m not fond of. Now it’s just Señor Mittens and I sitting at the kitchen island. Poking at our food because you’re not here laughing and telling stories as you relax after your graveyard shift.
Everything only felt right when it came to you.
You, you were the moon shining the way for all the other stars. The excitement you carried was infectious and the wisdom you shared was beyond your years. You carried the youngest and oldest soul I’d ever encountered. Every interaction I had with you left me with something new to cherish about that gorgeous, bright soul of yours.
Breakfast is left half eaten while I decide a shower is the new focus of this morning. It’s been longer than I want to admit and even Mittens is giving me a look at this point. He follows me to the bathroom, probably to make sure I actually go into the tub. I can’t find the effort to be offended by this helicopter cat behavior. You probably told him to. A small chuckle escapes at the thought before trailing off. The sound feels hollow in this moment, wrong even.
I can’t bring myself to look into the mirror while I undress. Letting my clothes fall to the ground before kicking them out of my way. The baggy shirt and boxers practically dwarf me when I wear them but it’s all I can bother to wear. You never cared what I wore. Even a paper sack would’ve made you holler about how cute I looked, how unbearably hot I was. And I started believing you.
Every insecurity died in the face of your unwavering support & confidence. Beyond looks and clothing even. You believed in me even when I didn’t myself. Every day was a new adventure, a new challenge for you, and you were always so ready to bring your loved ones along for the ride.
Turning on the water, I step into the hot shower before I decide to break down on the bathroom floor. It wouldn’t be the first or last time but I know I need this. You would have told me the same. The water is a heated distraction from the hurt I want to wallow in.
But you hated being sad or upset.
And I promised myself I would never not be grateful for being allowed to know you in this lifetime. To love you.
Every day, I loved you.
Every day, I still love you.
Every day, I will always love you.
The promises I made to you and myself in the dark hours of the night. Both before and… after. Quiet whispers against pillows that float into the starry sky, carried by a soft breeze that lingers against skin. You looked beautiful under the moonlight.
A choked sob tries to force its way out of my throat. I lean against the tile of the shower, letting my shoulders drop and the tears flow, mixing with the water from the shower head. There’s a dark feeling that rises when I think about you, how beautiful you are… were. Like it’s a crime, a betrayal, to take something so pretty away from the world. From me.
At this rate I’m going to ruin this whole shower idea. The soap and shampoo remain untouched and I’m unbothered by that fact. Choosing to focus on my emotions and grief.
And I know that, in my heart of hearts, you rest easy now. Peaceful and angelic as always. They’ve always said;“The prettiest flowers get picked first”. Which, I get it now. That corny line finally resonates. You were the most breathtaking creature I’d ever seen.
As I reluctantly reach for the soap I try comforting myself by telling myself that I know I’ll see you again one day sweet girl. That you haven’t left me. You linger in the scent of your body wash as I lather it along myself. In the memories of hearing you sing from the kitchen while I get ready for work and you get ready for bed. In the way Señor M meows when he hears his food can because you taught him to say please and thank you like a true gentleman.
God you were the definition of perfect. An angel on earth.
Shutting off the water, I step out and grab a towel. Throwing it around my waist and heading back towards my bedroom. Small paws patting as they follow me from the bathroom. Sitting on the side of our bed I stare at the closet door. Knowing your scent will pour out once I open it. I flick my eyes over the the dresser instead, knowing majority of my clothing lies in there. My stomach rolls as I think of reaching into my drawer, hand brushing the velvet box in the corner.
Which option will hurt less? Do I really have to put clothes on?
A meow pulls me from my thoughts and I sigh before tossing a look at the cat and standing. Drawers it is, at least my clothes just smell like me. I make a point to grab from the opposite side of the drawer. Small steps. Right? Whatever, it’s just a ring, I lie to myself.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind I throw it out. You mean more than that, you always have. If you heard me now you’d definitely give me shit for my attitude.
It’s definitely not just a ring. Not when it came to you. Months, years, went into this ring. I wanted to give you the perfect ring, something as unique and gorgeous as you. Something you could show off in your own little way.
By the time I’ve gotten dressed, I’ve made up my mind. I’m tossing a loving thought up to you as I grab the velvet box, my car keys and a one of the many collars you painstakingly picked out for Señor. He adored you just as much as I did & you took great pleasure spoiling him.
I decide to pay a visit to your parents too. And then the jewelers.
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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years
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For Science Ch. 5
Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4
Words: 1781
Tags: angst, love, neediness, bathtub sex, he’s too big but (spoiler) we make it work.
It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days since Bruce slammed the front door and ran away. Yesterday he sent a text, asking if he could come home. Seeing his name light up your screen made your heart jump, so happy to know he was safe and coming back to you. You responded with an enthusiastic yes.
He’d never left like this before - you’d never had a fight or had a moment where his emotions took over so badly. Of course you’d welcome him back, you’d never worried he would hurt you. Not anymore - not since he’d found this new happy medium between his two personas. Bruce clearly wasn’t as confident.
It was hard having him gone for those first few days of your new job at the university, and you’d wished he’d been there to laugh at some of the silly mistakes you had made. His bellowing chuckles were some of your favorite noises in the world.
Pulling up the driveway after classes were through, you saw Bruce’s car parked back in its normal place. Your stomach flipped, unsure what to expect, although you were mostly excited to see him.
You quietly opened the back door, walking into the kitchen. Taking off your heels, you heard soft, muffled classical music and smelled lavender and citrus. You smiled, heading straight to the master bath. The door was cracked open slightly, and you could see the warm glow of candles dancing across the shiny tile walls.
You knocked quietly on the door and pushed it open gently, just enough to stick your head inside. “Bruce?”
Bruce’s head was resting against the cool tile behind him, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. He must have just fallen asleep, his large frame filling most of the oversized jacuzzi tub. “Bruce?” You whispered again, awakening him from his dream. His warm eyes met yours, taking a moment to focus and register that you were really there. “Y/N, I -“ Bruce rested his hands on the side of the tub, beginning to push himself up to greet you. “No, no - stay there, you look so peaceful.” You nervously played with the hem of your untucked blouse.
“May I?” You lifted your hands to the top buttons of your blouse, pausing for Bruce’s approval. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded, adjusting his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. You proceeded in unbuttoning your crisp white shirt, setting it off to the side. Your back was turned to the submerged Bruce, but you knew the slight shimmy of your hips as you stepped out of your skirt and panties would excite him.
You backed yourself over to the edge of the tub, presenting your back to Bruce. He loved unclasping your bra for you. He took pride in being able to do it with just a flick of his finger, and seeing the tension leave your back and shoulders filled him with warmth. You moved the straps down your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, reveling in the ease of domestic life with Bruce - even in this uncomfortable silence.
Lowering yourself into the bubbles across from him, you sighed. The last few days had been hard on you, you were worried about Bruce, had started your new job, and had been brainstorming on ways to reverse your boyfriend’s physical predicament. You stretched your legs out in front of you, resting them against Bruce’s thighs. He took one foot in his large hand, rubbing the arch with gentle pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the wonderful release.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” Bruce’s eyes were cast downwards in shame. “I was so upset with myself, I didn’t want to risk anything happening…” You interrupted him. “No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just happy you’re back.” You poked him with your other foot, asking him to do the same magic there as well.
“Where did you go?” You asked timidly, not sure you really wanted to know the answer. “I just went to the tower - Tony left my room as-is…just in case.” You made a noise of acknowledgement, your fingers idly playing with the bubbles that adorned your chest.
“I never stopped thinking about you.” Bruce extended a hand, inviting you to come closer. You accepted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was scared, Bruce.” He held your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”
You kissed him fiercely, as if you wanted him to stop talking before he gave any excuses or reasons to leave again. You couldn’t help the whimpers leaving your chest, three days was a long time for you two to be apart.
Bruce’s cock throbbed against you, eliciting a groan from the large man. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled, nipping and sucking at your neck and collar bone. Moving to straddle his waist, Bruce’s hands found your hips, helping hold you steady.
“I wanna try - I think I can do it - I wanna try.” You ground your hips against his hardening length, your breaths already ragged and uneven. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted to do this for him. You were certainly wet enough. “No, I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t-“
You had your mind made up. Your much smaller hand took Bruce’s from his waist, bringing it to your core. “Stretch me out, please. I need you.” He could never resist you. Slowly inserting one large digit, knuckle by knuckle, his eyes were trained on you, closely monitoring for any inkling of pain or discomfort. You were feeling nothing of the sort. Your head was thrown back, the stretch sending delicious shockwaves through your limbs.
“One more, please” you breathed. “Y/N, I-“ You shot him a look, like daggers from your irises. “One. More. Please.” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He adjusted his fingers, slowly adding a second, drawing a moan from deep inside you. “I think - I think I’m ready. Please - give it to me? Let me make you feel good. Please?”
“Baby, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just start here, you’re taking me so well, maybe next time, we gotta take it slow.” You whined, loudly, and bucked your hips down onto his two, thick fingers. The water of the tub splashed over the edge. “Don’t wan’ take it slow, Bruce. Wan’ you - your cock. Puhleeeaase, Bruce.”
“The minute anything starts to hurt, you have to tell me, okay? Promise?” You nodded your head vigorously before pulling him closer and kissing him in gratitude. Bruce slowly removed his digits, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing but the bath water.
Bruce’s eyes were dark with lust, but still maintained the warmth of his concern for you. He held your gaze as he aligned himself with your opening. Every millimeter seemed to take an hour, your breath hitching in your throat as you stretched further to accommodate him. Bruce held your hips tightly, trying to maintain control and composure as you took him so well. It had been years since he felt the velvety warmth of a woman around him.
Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to move slowly and methodically. You focused on your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth - pushing out whines and whimpers along the way. You attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Bruce pushed you back, wanting to keep an eye on you. “You’re doing so well, my girl, look at you.”
Looking down, you expected to see that he had completely bottomed out inside you, but there was plenty more left to go. His hand held the base, not allowing you to go any further, if that was even possible. You smiled up at him, so proud of yourself, feeling so full.
Bruce’s heart swelled - and he could finally relax knowing you were okay…better than okay really. You began to rock your hips, exploring your body’s limits, feeling the push and pull of Bruce against your walls. It was worth the effort.
You established a comfortable rhythm, riding him slowly, but forcefully. The waves of now lukewarm water splashed around you, adding to the symphony of delicious noises you both were making - the feelings sending you both into nonverbal bliss. Bruce began to tense, and you weren’t far behind. The only one with a free hand, you reached down to access your clit, quickly sending shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You clenched down on Bruce’s girth as you climaxed, sending him over the edge with you. His guttural growl sent vibrations through your skin as he filled you up for the very first time. You collapsed into him, every muscle giving out from the pain and exertion.
Bruce held your weakened body in his arms, both of you exhausted beyond belief. The tub had turned cold and you began to shiver. Concerned, he held you tightly with one arm while he used the other to push himself out of the bath. You clung tightly to his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. Placing your down gently, he dried you off with a towel and handed you your robe to snuggle up into before returning to clean up the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you crawled back to the pillows aligned neatly on your bed and waited for Bruce to return.
Wrapped up in your fluffy robe, you nuzzled into Bruce’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?” Your fingers idly traced his chest, droplets of water still gripping the coarse hairs on his sternum. Bruce grunted in the affirmative, his eyelids were heavy the minute his head hit the pillow. “If you could, you know, switch back. Would you?”
Bruce hummed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Done some basic calculations, consulted with colleagues…but that was all before.”
“Before what?” You whispered, tipping your head to look up at him, his eyes still closed gently.
“Before you. Before our life together. Before I saw the way your eyes light up when I enter a room. You read about that sort of thing in books, right? But I never knew it was real. And me? Of all people? In this state?” You sat up, captivated by his words, tears welling up and blurring your vision. His eyes met yours, one hand tracing your spine, while the other held yours.
“So no. I’m not interested in changing back. I am Bruce Banner, I am the Hulk, and I love you.”
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gloryofluv · 3 years
Text
Situations that end with MC Walking Away Brothers and Datables (-Luke)
This is supposed to be funny, humorous, fluffy, and teasing. Obviously, insinuations are there.
I didn't do Luke because you shouldn't walk away from children or dogs. Haha! No, really, I just didn't want to do one for him so apologies.
Lucifer-
MC walked into the library to see Lucifer. He hadn’t seen them as he turned over several books on random shelves. He also took books from one shelf and placed them on other shelves. MC watched for two minutes before clearing their throat.
“What are you doing?” MC asked.
Lucifer jumped and turned around with an eyebrow raised. “Nothing, and if I were you, I’d keep this to yourself.”
MC shakes their head and leaves. So Satan was right. Lucifer goes out of his way to fuck with him.
Mammon-
MC was walking by the bathroom and stopped at the door after hearing someone wailing.
Wait… that was Mammon singing that song they played for him. Treasure by Bruno Mars. How fucking cute! MC ducks closer to the door and smiles brightly. Damn, he was cute. Was he singing about them?
MC sneakily opens the door to see Mammon in the bathtub. He was holding up Goldie and singing. Ugh.
MC moves to shut the door, but he sees. “MC, wait! It’s not what it looks like!”
Moving down the hallway as fast as they can, Mammon was trying to hold up his towel. “Wait! MC! Come on!”
Leviathan-
Leviathan showed MC his recent picture compilations he was creating for TSL and Rui-chan on his editing software. It was impressive.
Levi gets up to retrieve a figure he modeled one of the frames out of when MC clicks the other project he had minimized. Oh, boy, they shouldn’t have done that.
“MC, I have the,” he stopped dead.
The project was massively just about MC. Quite a few of the shots were of them together. He even had little hearts littering the frames.
“Levi, I love you, but I have to go,” MC murmured with the brightest blush and left the room.
Satan-
MC and Satan decide to go to the cat shelter. They were petting all the cats and feeding them treats. It was all in all a great day.
However, when MC glances over at Satan, where he’s ducked down to a pair of kittens, he was holding up his hand, and their little paws would touch his palm.
“Good, one more time,” Satan said.
“W-what are you doing?” MC asked.
Satan glanced over with wide eyes. “Teaching them to high five…” he trailed off.
MC put their hands on their cheeks and walked out of the room. All of this to hide the incredible blush and giddy laughter they were suppressing.
Asmo-
MC was skipping up to Asmo’s room to tell him about this sale. It was awesome, and he was going to obsess.
However, when they opened the door, they regretted it. Asmo was making out pretty hardcore with Solomon on the bed. Appalled? Shocked? MC didn’t know which.
“There’s always room for my other human!” Asmo giggled when he caught sight of MC.
Solomon covered his face. “Asmodeus, really.”
MC clapped a hand over their mouth and turned in a mechanical fashion before retreating.
“I’m never opposed to a humane threesome!” Asmo called after them.
Beel-
MC was working out with Beel. Well, more that he was working out, and they were putting chips in his mouth. It was a very gratifying experience. Both would laugh and enjoy this ridiculous routine.
It was all going like a well-oiled machine. Well… until Beel bit MC’s finger. Now it wasn’t that hard, but hard enough to make them jerk backward.
“Oh, MC, I’m sorry!” Beel puffed as he stopped his pushups.
MC took their finger to their mouth and grumbled. “That hurt, but I’m okay. You won't hurt me again, Beel.”
“Did Beel try to eat you like in your dream? I was hoping for screams and not whimpers,” Belphie murmured with a smirk as he turned over on his bed.
MC turned beyond what was considered red on the color spectrum. “I gotta go,” they rushed out and climbed off the floor.
“Wait, MC, I promise I won’t eat you!” Beel shouted as he rushed after them.
“Or he’ll try lower!” Belphie snickered.
Belphie-
MC was relaxing with Belphie in the sitting room. He was resting against their shoulder, and MC’s legs were over his lap. It was a typical evening of lazy bones being lazy cuddle buddies.
Asmo scrunched his nose while walking into the room. “It’s really unfair,” he started.
MC glanced over. “What?”
“Why is Belphie always getting to sleep with you! You never sleep with me!” He cried while crossing his arms.
“Because I do it better, Asmo. MC likes to be on top,” Belphie murmured through sleep.
MC’s eyes grew as Asmo rolled his. “Yeah, sure, like anyone would believe you fuck better than me.”
“What do you think the pillow is for? Muffled cries,” Belphie smiled over at Asmo.
MC puffed and stood up, nearly toppling over the table. Their hands landed on it for balance.
“Thank you for assuming the position, MC,” Belphie chuckled.
Needless to say, MC bolted from the room with bright mortification.
Solomon-
Magic. Always magic and human experiences. Today was no exception while they were practicing in the sitting room at Purgatory Hall.
They were working on transformative magic. Advanced and complicated.
“Now, watch, the strings will change to bracelets,” Solomon declared as he performed the spell.
MC bobbed their head as the white string did change into silver bracelets. “Cool.”
Simeon glanced over from his book. “Always talented, Solomon.”
Luke looked up from his phone and seemed wholly unamused by the situation.
“Now, it’s your turn.”
MC made the gesture and sputtered on the words. Instead of the string on their wrists turning into bracelets, they coiled around their hands and connected in a binding. MC gasped and struggled as they tried to climb off the ground.
“I didn’t realize you liked being tied up. I would have offered in private,” Solomon teased.
MC’s cheeks filled with blood and tripped as they moved toward the exit of the room.
“Solomon!” Simeon groaned.
Solomon was laughing. “I didn’t mean it. Well, maybe just a little, MC.”
They didn’t give him the chance to tease them anymore. MC struggled with the front door and began to march down the path.
“MC, you look like a demon meal like that! Come back,” Solomon called out, trying to catch them scurrying off. He laughed while following them all the way back to House of Lamentation.
Barbatos-
They were cooking together because he offered lessons. MC was always happy to help and learn to perfect a skill.
“Very good,” Barbatos nodded at MC finishing the sauce.
“Thanks, Barbatos. You’re going to get me cooking well enough to put any human to shame,” MC laughed.
“Maybe, but you were a proficient cook beforehand,” Barbatos said.
“I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Just tell me what you’d like to eat,” MC smiled.
Barbatos blushed and cleared his throat. “Anything you would like to make, MC. It isn’t often someone would like to return the favor for me.”
MC glanced over to see Barbatos had turned to the large pot on the stove. “I mean it. Whatever you want, Barbatos. I’d like to do something nice for you.”
“Why don’t you go see if we have any fresh greens?” He murmured.
MC scowled at the demon but agreed. They walked to the other side of the kitchen and went into the fridge. Glancing at the side, MC could see Barbatos subtly wiping his eyes through the reflection.
“Hey, Barbatos, I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” MC said and left the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Barbatos murmured as they left.
Diavolo-
Diavolo and MC were walking together through RAD as Barbatos trailed. They were on the way to a meeting, and MC was headed to lunch. This was usual, rare, but something not out of the norm. He would get his human questions in during these moments.
“MC, I heard the oddest thing from Asmodeus the other day,” Diavolo declared.
“What did he say now?” MC questioned with suspicion.
“There’s this game that you and he play. It has to do with figures of some sort,” Diavolo hummed.
“Figures?” MC asked.
Diavolo tapped his chin and glanced back. “Barbatos, what was it called again?”
“Daddy or Uncle energy, I believe, my lord,” Barbatos said while stifling a smile.
“Ah, yes, that one. Is this one of those parental human games?” Diavolo inquired while staring at MC.
Ded. one hundred percent. “No, um, Lord Diavolo, I gotta go,” MC puffed and tried to gesture toward the cafeteria.
“Wait, but he said you saw me as a father type? That’s very sweet,” Diavolo beamed with the smallest hint of mischief.
“Bye, Lord Diavolo! Bye, Barbatos!” MC rushed out and sprinted toward the cafeteria.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” Diavolo called after them with a bout of laughter.
Asmo was killed later that night. (Not really, but it could happen…)
Simeon-
Simeon and MC were in the kitchen of Purgatory Hall, baking. They had just finished the batter for the fingerprint cookies with a celestial recipe. Simeon was his usual serene self.
“Simeon, how long are these going to take?” MC questioned with the timer in hand.
“Put the timer on for fifteen minutes, and we’ll check then. I still am not confident that Solomon doesn’t tinker with the oven for experiments,” Simeon laughed.
MC set the timer and grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“He is a very unique human,” Simeon noted with a smile.
MC laughed while picking up the towel on the counter. “Here, let me help you clean up. You have some flour on your face.”
Simeon bent enough so that MC could clear his features of the flour, all the while beaming. It was a very cozy experience to bake with the angel. He took the towel from MC’s hand and nodded.
“Let me assist. You have some as well,” he noted and wiped their cheeks with soft swipes.
Simeon’s eyes were focused on the task.
“Simeon! Solomon took my hat for a spell again!” Luke yelled as he walked into the room.
MC jumped and accidentally pressed their lips to the space just next to Simeon’s mouth. “Oh, my God!” MC puffed and bounced back.
That just made it even worse. MC clapped a hand over their mouth and rushed from the room. Fire was cooler than their face. How were they ever going to explain that?
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Text
Savior
Chapter 2: Finding Strength
Tumblr media
(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)
series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness
chapter summary: you finally have had enough and you find the strength to escape
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: mentions of death, acts.mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm
word count: 2.1k
-
Quitting the job you love was really hard. After your brother died you got back together with Kade after a short break in the relationship, you moved in with him. You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and it only got worse when Danny, your brother, died while overseas.
You walked into the apartment, your head bowed trying to hide the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He’s already home, you saw his car in his usual spot in the parking garage when you pulled in. You could also make out the sound of the tv playing in the living room.
You headed towards the bedroom until he called your name, making you turn and slowly make your way into the living room.
“Did you do it?”
There are empty beer bottles everywhere along with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. You sighed but nodded nonetheless, playing with the hem of your blouse.
“Good. Start cleaning. This place is a mess.”
And you did what he said, all day. He made you scrub the floor down with a scrubbing brush. You had to clean every inch of the apartment, while picking up the trash he left behind him all day. When night came, you had officially cleaned everything and cooked him dinner. You sat down at the table, ready to eat after not having breakfast or lunch all day.
“What are you doing? You think you deserve to eat? No. You're going to sit there and think about what you did.”
With sad eyes and an ache in your stomach, you didn’t fuss. You didn’t even say a word. You didn’t want him to see you cry so you held it in as much as you could. You hold back sobs, it creates a burning feeling in your chest and throat.
After you got home yesterday, Kade had been enraged. Accused you of cheating, he didn’t even mention you telling Jay about the abuse. It was worse because it was Jay. He knew your background, and how you fell in love with him when you were younger. Last night's memories were fuzzy after that. All you can remember was the agonizing pain and the god awful headache you had after he slammed your head against the kitchen counter. Kade has made you quit your job, you weren’t sure why.
Kade wipes his mouth with a cloth once he’s finished eating. “I try to be nice to you. But you test me. Every single day, you test me.” He stands from his seat at the table, coming closer and closer to you. You look up at him pleading with your eyes.
“Worthless. Pathetic. Get up.”
You do as you're told and stand up. He roughly grabs your arms, dragging you down the hall. You think he’s heading towards the bedroom but he stops at the hallway bathroom. He opens it and tosses me inside.
“This is your new room now. You should get comfortable,” he snarls. You're on the ground now, groaning. He takes the chance and shoves his foot into your chest.
When will it stop! When is enough, enough for him? Why am I not good enough? What did I do that made him so violent?
These things run through your head as he continues his abuse. Pain and suffering, blood and tears are things you have gotten used to.
It’s an hour later when he stops, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stares down at you in disgust. You look at him weakly and in pain. You're almost positive you need medical attention, but you say nothing.
“Cheating whore,” he spits. With one final look, he’s gone. The sound of the kick in the bathroom door clicking, only making more tears pool in your eyes.
What has my life come to? When did it get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?
The bathroom floor was ice cold, even with a towel laid underneath you, you were still freezing. You know he bumped the temperature down, torturing you even when he wasn’t at home. You twirled the card between your fingers. His name sticking out along with his number.
Deceive Hay Halstead.
You remember fourteen year old you, rushing into your brothers room where he and Jay were playing video games. You remember how excited you were when you told the both of them you got the lead role in your dance group.
“I’m so proud of you,” Jay had exclaimed.
You wondered if he would be proud of you now.
Would he?
There’s so much history between you and Jay, a lot of things your brother never knew about, and now he never will.
It’s been days since you saw him. You can still see his smile and his perfect white teeth as he spoke to you. You can still feel his body against yours from that day he had you against the wall.
You should’ve told him. You're filled with regret. He could’ve helped you get out.
I wouldn’t be in this stupid bathroom if I had agreed to let him help me.
You could’ve called him the day he made you quit your job. You could’ve driven off, anywhere. Somewhere, where Kade couldn’t find you.
Yet, here you are. You have a few - a lot - new bruises that have replaced the old ones. There’s still a harsh pain in your chest and your stomach from not having eaten in days. You know it’s been at least a week.
He comes and goes. Sometimes you can hear giggles pass down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Then…you can hear him pleasing other women in your bed. The ones he would love you on, on good days.
But no…he is with other women while the woman he should be with is withering away down the hall.
You didn’t scream, you should’ve. You know that now. You were scared he would kill you or those girls. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something happened to them because of you and your stupidity.
So you sucked it up.
It’s been two weeks. Yesterday had to be one of the worst days. You recall the rage burning like fire in his eyes. He was angry, more than usual. Something must’ve happened. Either way, there’s no excuse for what he did.
The cuts along your back sting like hell. You begged him to stop, and it was a mistake. You should’ve let him beat you till it was out of his system for the night. If it’s even possible, he got angrier. He threw you into the bathroom counter, your back crashing into the mirror, causing it to shatter agains you. Your thigh had hit the faucet, creating a huge bruise on the back of it, but nothing hurt worse than the pain in your heart.
“Pathetic slut,” he snapped before walking out, locking the door behind him.
You sit on the floor only a day later, staring at yourself through the glossy flooring. A large shard of glass sat next to you, your eyes wander to it ever so often. It tempts you. Taunts you like a clear voice in your head.
“Do it.” It would say.
Then you would hear the sound of his voice. Familiar, warm, and inviting. Your heart aches. You miss him.
You can see him at the elevator, waiting for it to open while he looks at you.
“You’re strong. Remember that.”
You wonder why you pushed him away. Why you don’t let yourself trust the one man, that still lives, that would never hurt you.
A sob racks through your body as you pick up the large piece of the mirror and throw it across the room. An aggravated scream leaves you as you stand up with trembling legs.
How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I ask for help? The abuse has gone on for three years.
Your throughts were only “why” and “what if’s.”
He’s taken everything from you. Ripped you from your friends, your old life. You didn’t even notice at the time. You just needed someone. You followed him blindly. He told you you only needed him. Nothing - no one else.
I lost myself trying to please him.
You decided you're done letting him win. You're done letting him control your life. Your choices were dying here in this bathroom helplessly, or die trying to get out. You chose the latter.
You searched around the room in a haste, looking for anything to break the doorknob off. Your eyes trained on the top of the toilet. You take it off, arms falling at the weight. You are weak from the two weeks with no food, but you still find it in yourself to raise it over your head and lm it down in the knob.
You weren’t sure the exact time, but Kade would be home soon. So you knew you had to hurry
One hit didn’t seem to do it, so you raise it again and with a grunt, you use all your strength to slam it back down again. Your mouth falls open in surprise when the knob falls to the floor with a loud clanking noise.
It took you a moment, but you dropped the lid and rushed out of the bathroom. You made your way to the home phone, picking it up with shaky hands.
You're hit with a wave of dizziness, but you still dial the number you now know by heart. You were filled with hope when he answered after a couple of rings.
“Halstead.”
“JJ?”
There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a second, but soon he repeats your name.
“I want out. P-Please help me,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you pathetically spike.
“Address. I need an address.”
The sound of the front door unlocking catches your attention. Your body goes ridged, frozen in place.
Jay repeats your name a couple of times.
“No. No,” you mutter as you begin to back away.
“Hey! What’s going on? I need an address, sweetheart.”
You somehow manage to tell him the address with a, “please hurry,” at the end. You hang up, throwing the phone to the side. You're filled with dread as Kade stumbles into the room, pulling at his tie. You're starting to regret what you just did.
Kade narrows his eyes, ripping his tie from his neck.
“How the hell did you get out?”
He stalks towards you, and although your first instinct is to run, you stay put. You're done taking the abuse.
“I’m done, Kade. We’re done.” You stand your ground, head held high and a new found confidence in your words. He laughs. It’s evil and sickening.
“We’re done? I say when we’re done!” He exclaims, his hand rising and connecting with your face before you had the chance to move. You fall to the floor from the power of the slap. Although you act confident and strong, you're weak. Two weeks without food would be the cause. It didn’t help that you were still in pain from the most recent beating.
You let out a cry as he pulls your hair back with a huff. “When will you learn?” He asked, pulling your head back so you were facing him.
“You look pathetic,” he laughs. You're slapped in the face once more before being dragged towards the kitchen by your throat. You grabbed at him, your instincts kicking in.
“God, your stupid,” he spat, shoving you into the table. Your eyes widen as you feel your skirt, the same one you’ve worn for two weeks now, being pulled around your hips. You felt hopeless now. You only hoped Jay would be here soon.
“At least you're good for something.” You heard him mutter before the sound of his zipper being undone filled your ears. You clamped your legs together and attempted to move, but it was no use. He overpowered you easily. You cried softly as he moved closer and held you down with a deadly grip on your bruised and cut back.
There’s a knock on the door that paused Kade’s actions. He hissed and pulled away, fixing himself.
“Who the hell did you call? Did you call someone?”
The look of fury in his eyes was enough to have you cowering in fear. A scream rips from your throat as he grabs you by your hair again.
“CPD! Open up!” You heard his familiar voice. The same voice you heard as you laid on the bathroom floor.
Kade’s grip on you tightens. “I’m going to kill you, you little bitch.”
~
A/N: Small cliffhanger? Yep. Chapter 3 should be out Tusedsy! If you want added to the Saviors taglist let me know!
@miranada0102 @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @kelelas-life
(Not sure why some of these didn’t work.)
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autumnscribbles · 3 years
Text
cheap wine | b.s
requested by anon! (thank you i love this!!)
summary: y/n’s friend brad is jealous of her friendship with colby brock, leading to one night where he can’t keep it to himself anymore
word count: 1.8k
warnings: little bit of suggestive language, i wrote smut but it was really bad and i hated it so i adjusted LOL
a/n: i finally managed to write a long dish imagine!! i love me some jealous brad :) keep sending requests, i love them! i hope you enjoyed, i had fun wiring this one
                                                       ~
Brad sat on the couch across from you, eyes boring into Colby as he tickled you on the black couch of your apartment. You had invited some friends over for drinks, movies and board games, just wanting a chill night with your friends. It was a nice change of pace from the LA parties you both always ended up at.
Brad, hoever, was hoping that Colby wasn’t going to show up today. Of course, he did, being your best friend. Brad’s jealousy seemed to course through his veins, plastering on a fake grin every time your eyes managed to catch his. 
You squealed as Colby picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he ran around the room, your giggles and shrieks filling the room, everyone else laughing along except Brad. He wanted to be the one to get those laughs out of you, and he didn’t know why he suddenly cared so much.
He had seen you with Colby many times, assuming you had feelings for him, or that Colby had feelings for you. When he found out from a third party that it wasn’t in fact true, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when these feelings began, but now they were full throttle, and Brad had a difficult time ignoring them. Pretending they didn’t exist seemingly just wasn’t working anymore.
Brad stood up, asking Connor who was also invited if he wanted to go grab a drink. Connor agreed and both boys made their way to your kitchen, pouring themselves glasses of cheap wine from the bottles you had laid out across the kitchen island. Brad downed his fast, wanting to forget the feelings he had for you and the jealousy he felt watching you with Colby.
“Woah, mate,” Connor laughed. “You okay?”
Brad downed the drink, beginning to pour another one before answering Connor’s concerns.
“Fine,” he muttered.
“It’s y/n and Colby, isn't it?” Connor inquired, despite already knowing the answer to his question.
“No,” Brad lied. “She can do what she wants, I don’t own her. I just have a hard time believing that Colby doesn’t have feelings for her.”
“I don’t know,” Connor shrugged. “They are really good friends.”
“Whatever,” Brad shrugged. “I have no right to be jealous.”
Brad and Connor grabbed their wine glasses, heading back out to the living room, plopping back down on the couch. 
Your eyes caught his, quickly standing up to go sit next to him after realizing you hadn’t spoken much since he got here. Brad had been more quiet than usual, almost like he was avoiding you.
“Hey,” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder quickly.
“Hey,” he replied, putting a smile on.
“Already almost done?” you asked, eyeing his wine glass.
“Yeah,” Brad chuckled. “I guess I’m going a bit fast aren’t I?”
“Nonsense,” you guffawed, waving him off before taking his glass, offering to go refill it at the same time you were going to refill yours. 
As you made your way to the kitchen, Colby followed, skipping happily alongside you. You looked back at Brad, noticing the unhappy look on his face yet again, unsure where it was coming from. Colby noticed you staring, nudging you back to attention as you began pouring the wine into the glasses. Despite the fact that you could afford better alcohol, you liked to stick to your cheap wine, it always made you happy.
“What’s up?” Colby asked, realizing right away something was off in that moment.
“Nothing,” you shrugged. “Brad’s just acting weird.”
“A little, yeah,” Colby shrugged. “Probably because he’s into you.”
“He is not,” you protested, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face.
“He totally is,” Colby insisted. “And you’re totally into him.”
“I’m not, Colby,” you said, pushing him lightly, making him stumble backwards slightly, already feeling a slight buzz.
Despite your protests, Colby was right. You had developed feelings for Brad. Everyone always assumed you liked Colby that way, but you didn’t. Ever since you met Brad, you found yourself always thinking about him, wondering what it would be like if you two were together. Sometimes you convinced yourself he had feelings for you too, but your tendency to overthink made you second guess it. He was hard to read, and you weren’t very good at reading people.
“Keep lying to yourself,” Colby said, clinking his glass against yours before sipping it.
You sighed, grabbing yours and Brad’s glass and heading back out to hand it to him, feeling yourself loosen up with each sip.
The night carried on, you pulling out the Twister mat for everyone to play. Everyone was already drunk enough that they were all excited about it, friendly competition already starting. After most people lasting a long time, it was just you and Colby left. Your friendship had consisted of many twister games, both of your competitive natures surging.
Brad watched as both of you got tangled in each other, his head foggy from the wine. He had lost track of how much he had already, but it was a lot, and he was starting to accept his thoughts of you rather than pushing them away.
Colby finally crashed to the floor, you screaming excitedly despite knowing all along you would win. You jumped up and down, pointing at Colby and jokingly calling him a loser.
“We get it,” he groaned. “You’re the best at twister.”
“We know,” you grinned, helping him up off the ground. “I’m gonna go pee now.”
You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, planning on refilling it after you went to the bathroom, heading down the hall towards it. Someone had turned up the music you had put on, a smile across your face as you thought about how much fun you were having.
In the other room, Brad had decided to go for what he wanted. He stood up, the wine heading straight to his head as he stumbled slightly, walking down the hall towards where the bathroom was, waiting outside of it for you. He looked back to make sure no one had followed him, but he was in the clear.
You dried your hands off, opening the door to find Brad standing in the dimly lit hallway, looking at you.
“Need to pee too?” you asked, motioning towards the bathroom.
“No,” he chuckled. “Just wanted to be alone with you for a second.”
“Oh yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached him, feeling confident.
“Yeah,” he smirked. “I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you, and it’s really hard to keep my hands off of you too.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, not expecting him to say that in the slightest. You had really thought Brad was upset with you or attempting to avoid you all night, maybe this was why.
“What’s stopping you?” you flirted back, taking yet another step closer, now able to feel Brad’s breath against your skin, his lips slightly stained from the red wine you had been drinking all evening.
“I’m not sure,” he mumbled, leaning in closer to you.
Both of you losing your inhibitions, you pressed your lips together desperately. It had been something you had both been thinking of for a long time, the satisfaction seeping through you as you felt his soft lips on yours. His hands reached for your waist, turning around so you were against the wall in the shadows of the corner of the hall, his lips moving hungrily, the kiss deepening.
You reached up, lacing your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, earning a groan from Brad in return. His tongue teased your bottom lip, and you opened wider, your tongue touching his. He pulled away for a second, you breathing heavily as he moved to your neck, hands moving up and down your sides.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this,” he muttered, the feel of his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. “I have a pretty good idea,” you blurted out.
“I’ve been thinking abut you all day, it was killing me seeing Colby all over you,” he said.
“I only want you,” you breathed out.
“Good,” Brad smirked before you pulled him back to your mouth, hungry for his kiss again. 
You put your hands on his chest, his firm muscles against your hands through the soft fabric of his shirt. You trailed down to his stomach, revealing in the feeling of his body. He did the same to you, hands trailing around you, landing on your ass as he gave it a slight squeeze.
You pulled him closer to you, wanting him even closer than he already was, wanting all of him. You felt his crotch against yours, smiling in the kiss about what you did him.
“I want you so bad,” he groaned.
You took his hand, leading him to your bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you. He set you down on the bed, climbing on top of you as you wrapped your arms back around him, drowning in the kiss and his body. He smelled of cologne and tasted like wine, it was intoxicating.
You reached for his pants, toying with the button when there was a knock on the door, startling both of you.
“Y/n?” Colby asked from the other side of the door. “Are you in there? Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“Yeah!” you blurted out as quickly as you could. “I’m fine I just wanted to change clothes.”
You facepalmed yourself after saying that, Brad laughing at you. Now you actually would have to change clothes to make it believable. Although, you assumed Colby had some idea about what was going on.
“Rain check?” Brad asked, despite how badly he wanted to go further.
“I guess so,” you sighed. “You can at least take me out for dinner first.”
“Of course, m’lady,” he chuckled. “How’s tomorrow sound?”
“Sounds lovely,” you grinned. “Now get out so I can change and we don’t look suspicious.”
“I think we already look suspicious, love, plus I want to see you without clothes on.”
You shoved him, letting out a laugh.
“You almost get some action and suddenly you’re so bold?” you ask.
“It's the cheap wine, babe,” he nodded. “It’s all about the cheap wine.”
You changed quickly, letting Brad stay in the room, kissing and fondling each other a little more. You wanted to go all the way, but your friends were all in the other room, and you were the host. You took his hand, leaving the room and shutting the door.
“Have fun?” Connor asked, eyeing both of your messed up hair, Brad’s pant button still undone.
“Oops,” you grinned, standing in front of him so he could button it up.
You sat on the couch next to each other, Brad’s hand brushing your thigh, still wanting to be as close to you as possible.
“Not a word,” you pointed at Colby, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.
You looked over at Brad, his soft brown eyes boring into yours. You knew this wasn’t just lust, and that maybe what you’ve always wanted was in the near future. 
Maybe he would be yours.
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writerpeach · 3 years
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SNSD Tiffany x Male Reader
6066 words
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The knock at the door startled you more than expected.
It was shortly after 10 p.m. when you heard it, tossing your phone to the side as it landed on the nightstand. You made an effort to lift yourself off the mattress, heading towards the brown wooden door and took a deep breath before letting it out and unlocked it, turning the doorknob and swinging it open.
“Good evening, sir.”
Standing on the other side of the door was a raven-haired beauty of a woman with a gorgeous smile, dressed in a tight turtleneck sweater and equally tight skirt that showed off her voluptuous figure, black stockings and high heels that accentuated her luscious slender legs.
“You must be Tiffany.”
“That’s correct, it’s nice to meet you,” she replied, flashing a smile filled with confidence that put you at ease.
“Please come in,” you said, holding the door open for her as she stepped in, the loud clack of her heels filling the room with every step. You grabbed the ‘do not disturb’ sign, placing it on the opposite side of the doorknob before shutting it gently and locking it tight.
It had been a while since you had been with a woman, though not for lack of trying. You were in constant demand at work, and your job didn’t allow the luxury to meet anyone, let alone find the time to get to know them enough. There were plenty of attractive women who flirted with you in your office, but you wanted to remain professional and refused to spur any advances so as to not cause a company-wide scandal were things to go wrong.
“You can have a seat if you’d like,” you said, gesturing to the spacious bed nearby as the dark-haired woman took you up on your offer and sat down on the edge, crossing her gorgeous creamy legs and placed her purse to the side.
Before joining her you grabbed an unmarked white enveloped off the kitchen counter, stuffed to the brim and handed it to her. She took a brief glance inside before graciously accepting it and tucking it into her luxury purse.
“Thank you, sir. Now tell me, what can I do for you tonight?”
It was almost an entire week's worth of pay, but you knew as soon as you opened the door and met Tiffany face to face that you had made the right decision.
“I’d like you to make me feel good.”
“It would be my pleasure,” she said, placing a hand on your thigh and gently caressing it as she gazed into your eyes, giving a look of reassurance.
“Everything has been paid for, including the extra amount for anal. You have my services for the next hour, I’ll do whatever you’d like.”
If there was any nervous tension left in your body it had all just vanquished into the air.
“Perfect. Strip for me, Tiffany. Keep the heels on.”
You had been dying to see every inch of her body since the moment you laid eyes on her and you couldn’t wait any longer.
“Of course, sir,” she said as she rose from the mattress, spinning around to let you get a full view of her amazing body. With a sensual look in her eyes she unzipped the back of her skirt and removed her top from her body, hastily wiggling out of her skirt as she let both fall to the ground aimlessly.
Your mouth salivated uncontrollably as Tiffany was left in a matching set of lacey pink lingerie, showing off the plentiful curves of her body. Such a perfect woman was blessed with luscious thighs, a tight toned midriff and a beautiful set of tits, although not the biggest they were plenty big enough to fit into your hands. The bright colors of her undergarments contrasted with the dark garments on the floor as she beamed with confidence as your eyes feasted on her with hunger.
With her hands on her wide hips Tiffany let your eyes sample her body, preparing you for the main course that was about to be served for you. She quickly unhooked her bra, tossing it away and ran her small hands up her upper body before giving her exposed tits a quick squeeze, pinching her hardening nipples. Her milky tits were divine, the perfect size and shape for her body type and you felt your pants tightening at the sight of them,
“Like what you see so far?” Tiffany asked, giggling cutely as her fingers played with her rosy pink nipples.
“I do. When I asked for the best they weren’t kidding around.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure you get your money's worth."
Tiffany ran her hands over the exposed flesh of her body, lifting her arms up over her head to give you the perfect view. There was just one thing left, and she wasn't going to make you wait for it as she spun on her heels and bent over, letting you see her tight ass almost fully exposed in the skimpiest thong nestled in between soft looking milky cheeks of her backside.
You weren't prepared as Tiffany slowly peeled her thong off her wide hips and down her long legs, kicking it away as her beautiful pussy was revealed.
“Shaved clean as requested.”
The pink flesh between Tiffany's thighs was mouthwatering, and you couldn't hold back as you brought two fingers and rubbed her pink slit, feeling the wetness present already.
“Nice and wet for you already,” Tiffany said as she turned around to face you, the constant smile plastered on her face as her newly naked body was all yours to gawk over as your eyes roamed over every inch of bare skin.
"God, you're absolutely perfect," you said, unable to stop staring at her tight body for a second. If Tiffany was the top of the line when it came to escorts, you were kicking yourself for not hiring one before if they were all even half as hot as she was.
“You’re not so bad yourself. Now, what else can I do for you, sir?”
There was a small part of you that just wanted to bend her over the bathroom counter and finish inside her within just minutes, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy that as much and you certainly wouldn’t get your money’s worth. You wanted this to be a memorable experience.
“I want you to suck my cock.”
Tiffany’s eyes lit up at your request as if you had just named one of her favorite things to do.
“I’d love to, sir. Why don’t you get comfortable for me?”
It would take getting used to this, having Tiffany obeying practically anything you wanted without question. You scooted back onto the bed, fixing the pillows the way you liked it before laying on your back and awaited what was next. Tiffany was eagerly one step behind, carefully climbing the bed in nothing but heels and a smile.
You settled yourself in and felt the comforting weight of Tiffany on your body, her beautiful face inches away from yours as she leaned in to kiss you, her lips ridiculously soft. Her small hands unbuttoned your shirt, exposing your chest little by little.
“Has it been a while?” Tiffany asked, opening your shirt all the way up to fully reveal your bare torso to her as she licked your bare chest.
Maybe she could sense it or see it in your eyes, all you knew was you missed everything about this. Tiffany took your silence as an answer, planting another kiss on your lips while playing with your bare chest.
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll make sure to take good care of you, sir,” she said as she leaned back and grabbed a handful of your bulge that had been poking through your pants, feeling the outline with both of her petite hands.
“How do you like your dick sucked?” she asked, a question you certainly hadn’t been asked before. She felt up more of your bulge before growing impatient and unzipping your pants.
“I’m not picky. Do you have a gag reflex, Tiffany?”
She shook her head as she yanked your pants off, tossing them off the side of the bed as your bulge poked more prominent through the fabric of your boxers, desperately wanting to escape.
“Not even a little bit. I can go as deep as you’d like, sir,” she said, wanting to offer a demonstration as she practically ripped your boxers off your body, freeing your rock hard shaft to the air as her eyes widened.
“You have a very nice cock,” Tiffany said, hungrily eyeing your exposed cock as her warm delicate hands caressed your bare thighs, sending more blood to your aching shaft.
Tiffany licked her lips and wrapped one hand around your stiff shaft, letting the other rest on your thigh as she gently pumped it, spitting on it several times as she made it glistening wet with her warm saliva.
“I’m going to make you feel very good, sir.”
Time was of the essence here, and Tiffany didn’t waste any as she got straight to work, giving a few teasing licks before parting her lips and taking you into the warmth of her mouth, sucking on the first few inches of your cock.
“Oh fuck…” you moaned, overwhelmed with the heavenly sensations as Tiffany sucked you off, never breaking eye contact as her heavenly soft lips wrapped around your cock and her cheeks hollowed. The pleasure was intense, and with a few short movements she pushed her lips deeper and deeper until she had taken every inch down her tight throat, resting her wet mouth at the base of your cock.
“Oh my god, Tiffany,” you said, struggling to keep your senses in check as she kept your cock warm inside her mouth, squeezing the muscles in her throat to add stimulation without any struggle whatsoever. When her lips slid back down, she repeated the same act with ease, taking you all the way down as your tip hit the back of her throat and tightened around it as if it demonstrating her prowess.
You couldn’t help but let out a series of groans and moans, the feeling of your shaft stuffed inside Tiffany’s mouth as she worked a face pace, bobbing her head rapidly and slurping on every inch.
“You’re so good at that, f-fuck.”
“It’s all part of the job, sir. I love pleasing you. It helps when you have such a yummy cock,“ Tiffany said as she dove right back, lips going wild on your cock.
The pleasure was driving you insane as she kept her hungry eyes on you, using her lips and tongue to pleasure you. She used long strokes from base to tip effortlessly, not gagging once even as you hit the back of her throat several times.
Maybe she was an expert at blowjobs due to her job or her natural skills, either way you were lost in bliss. This went on for several breathtaking seconds as she continued slobbering on your cock, becoming progressively sloppier with each bob of her head as she covered your shaft in drool, some of it spilling out of the corners of her lips and dripping on the stunning features of her face.
“You like it when a messy little slut sucks your cock?”
Your only response came in loud moans as her oral assault never ceased, something you were thankful for but at the same time it became difficult to handle. It had been too long since you had gotten a blowjob that felt so good you felt it everywhere, and you’d give up an entire month’s paycheck for incredible head like this.
Tiffany was nothing but a consummate professional when it came to sucking your cock, she knew just what to do with her talented mouth, making sure to keep her pretty eyes on you to make sure you were enjoying it all.
“Can’t leave any part out,” she said, exploring your shaft with her wet tongue until she arrived at your sensitive balls, painting each one in succession before tenderly sucking them individually. With even more hunger Tiffany slurped on them just as loud and messily as she did your shaft, keeping your wet cock in her hands as she stroked it at the same time, wanting to give as much wanton pleasure as possible.
“That feels so fucking good.”
“I’m glad. Would you like a little extra, sir?”
You weakly forced out a nod, and she gave a few more loud messy slurps as her tongue ran lazy circles around your balls. You weren’t sure what she meant but you quickly found out as she lowered her head and you felt her tongue teasing the tip of your untouched hole, causing your entire body to jerk at the suddenness.
“H-holy s-shit,” you moaned, the intense sensation felt so new and foreign as Tiffany explored more of your hole, pushing her wet tongue inside your ass all while she kept a strong grip on your cock, pumping it slowly as she stimulated as many parts of your body as she could.
You had never felt anything like this, your cock leaked all over Tiffany’s slender fingers as she rimmed you, the sensations so sharp and intense you were losing all control. Tiffany practically was thrusting her tongue inside your hole with her tongue and looking up at you with a constant look of determination, trying to wring out every ounce of pleasure she could.
Desperate gasps and moans grew louder as Tiffany went wild. Slow pleasurable licks grew into long deep swirls of her tongue as she buried her tongue inside, making out with your tight hole and hitting all the sensitive nerves as she quickly coated it with her warm saliva.
It took everything you had not to erupt right then, something she seemed to sense as she slowly her pace down. Tiffany licked from your taint to the tip of your cock repeatedly before forming a fist around your needy cock and slowly jerking you off.
“T-that was incredible,” you said, your labored breathing making it hard to speak clearly. You felt grateful for the respite on your body as Tiffany gave slow circles around your swollen tip, rubbing that sweet spot on the underside of your shaft.
"I'm glad you enjoyed that, sir. Are you ready to fuck me yet?” she asked, smiling brightly as she lazily stroked your cock.
“Absolutely.”
“Good, how do you want me, sir?”
So many choices, but so little time. You wanted to take her on every surface in your hotel room, but you would have to narrow it down a bit. You grabbed her hips, gesturing for her to get off you as you laid her on her side, marveling at the beauty of her naked body. You ran your fingers through her wet folds, playing with her pretty pussy before joining her and laying down beside her.
“Good choice. This is one of my favorite positions.”
You grabbed a hip and made sure her legs were closed, rubbing your tip through her slick pussy lips to feel her warmth. Her flesh felt so silky soft already that you knew you were in for a treat as you aimed yourself at her opening, unprepared for the sensations awaiting your body.
“Shove it all inside me. Don’t hold anything back, sir.”
“Do you like it rough, baby?” you asked as you nudged your tip against her warm entrance, pushing yourself inside her warm wet hole as you entered her with a loud moan.
“F-fuck, yes. I love being fucked rough. If I can still walk out of here you haven’t gotten your money's worth."
Tiffany shifted her gaze towards you, her eyes beckoning you to take her as you pushed in deeper. Her walls gripped you tightly, a tightness that surprised you given that Tiffany was paid to sleep with people on a regular basis, but it was more than welcome and you needed more of it.
"You're so big, sir. Keep going, stretch my tight little pussy out.."
Tiffany felt so wet and warm, her pussy squeezing your throbbing shaft that you found it easy to slide all the way inside her, bottoming her out. Given her earlier words you didn’t allow any time for adjustment and began delivering rough thrusts, burying yourself inside her to the hilt.
“Just like that, use my tight pussy. It’s all for you, sir,” Tiffany said as your pace quickened and you began slamming into her tight cunt, earning more moans as you fucked her with purpose.
Your hands weren’t kept idle, keeping a hand on her waist as you snaked the other under her body, reaching underneath her arm and grabbed a handful of her breast, squeezing the soft flesh as you pounded away.
The position you took her in was perfect, granting you constant eye contact with the sultry vixen you were driving yourself as deep as you could, letting you see all her curves while giving additional intimacy that something missionary could never offer.
“Like those tits?” Tiffany asked, an unnecessary question as your fingers were kneading into her soft flesh, playing with the stiff nipple that you found.
“I love them. They’re beautiful,” you said, and you wish that you had time to feast on them, but given you only had an hour you had more important things you wanted to do to her.
“Play with yourself for me, baby,” you ordered, as you grabbed one of her soft thighs and lifted her leg into the air, granting access to her pretty little cunt. She obliged without hesitation and brought a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit in slow delicate circles.
“You feel so good inside me. Fuck me harder, sir,” she said, her eyes glued to you as you continued playing with her breasts, using more power in your hips as you began pounding away into her tight cunt that demanded more.
You hadn’t been inside her for that long, but Tiffany was already dripping wet, your shaft covered in her sweet nectar which aided every thrust and made every movement silky smooth that you wanted to stay inside her forever.
There were a lot of benefits to this position, the most prominent being able to roam Tiffany’s body as you fucked her, getting lost in her curves as you looked at every inch of bare skin from her pretty face all the way down to her feet.
“How’s that pussy feel? Tight enough for you?” Tiffany asked, every thrust of your shaft rocking her slender body that made the bed shake in rhythm.
“Feels so fucking good. Should have done this a long time ago,” you said as you upped your pace even more, harshly smacking your hips against her bare skin, the needy sounds of flesh on flesh filling the room.
“You fuck me so well. My pussy is getting so stretched by such a big cock, oh fuck! I’m c-close, can I cum, sir?”
She didn’t need permission, but you appreciated her asking for it. Her professionalism knew no end.
“Of course. Cum for me, Tiffany,” you said, giving even harder thrusts into her body as the bed smacked against the wall. You felt bad for whoever was on the other side of the wall, but that guilt dissipated shortly as you pounded into her, every thrust balls deep into her wet and enjoyable warmth.
Tiffany didn’t take long to achieve climax, her pussy pulsating around you shaft wildly as your hips pistoned, her body taking every hard thrust and accepting it with ease. She came loudly, the entire bed shaking as her body gave in as her toes curled, ecstasy hitting her from all sides as she was turned into a puddle of pleasure.
You didn’t let up as you fucked Tiffany straight through her orgasm, the intense pleasure doing a number on her as she let out multiple needy moans and gasps. Your cock drowned in her juices as you kept thrusting, only letting up once you felt her high had run its course.
“T-that was amazing, sir. You really know how to fuck a woman.”
Tiffany’s glazed over eyes looked weakly at you as you gave a half-dozen more thrusts before leaving the comfort of her warmth, watching your shaft covered with her juices glistening in the lights.
“I’m just getting started. I’d love to fuck you from behind. Bend over for me, please.”
“With pleasure, sir.”
Tiffany didn’t waste any time as she faced the foot of the bed, getting herself into position on her hands and knees. Her sinful body was all yours for the taking, that perfectly round ass of hers raised in the air as her head was flat on the mattress.
The view you saw in front of you was absolutely perfect as you ran your hands all over Tiffany’s body, feeling the material of her stockings and squeezing her buttcheeks as your fingers dug into her soft flesh. Her body was an absolute work of art, blessed with pristine milky skin from head to toe that you wish you had the entire night just to lick every inch of her.
“You like fucking a girl with heels on?”
“It’s one of my favorite things.”
“I like it too, it makes me feel sexy. Now shove that cock back inside me, sir.”
Not wanting to spend any time outside her than what was necessary, you took your shaft into one hand and rubbed it against her wet pussy, the abundant wetness making itself known as your aching shaft sank inside into her tight hole, causing a shared moan.
Tiffany felt even better as you entered her from behind, much tighter and wetter as her slick walls clung around your shaft as if they desperately wanted you trapped inside her. Placing a hand on each of her delicious hips, your hands squeezed her soft flesh as you began to move, thrusting just as deep as you did before as those beautiful moans of hers filled your eardrums.
It took some time for your body to process everything, the sensations almost too much to bear as you fucked Tiffany’s tight body from behind. The hot dripping flesh wrapped so tightly around your cock, squeezing so harshly as you slammed into her warm hole, it was all so heavenly and a moment you wanted to freeze in time.
After several breaths you found a rhythm that you liked, the warmth of Tiffany’s tight cunt driving you crazy as her erotic moans endlessly left her sultry lips, desperately pleading for more.
You needed a distraction from the pleasure flooding your senses as your hands explored her body, touching as much bare skin as you could. Exploring everywhere from her bare shoulders to her toned back, you were once again drawn to her breasts, giving the soft mounds a firm squeeze, kneading the soft flesh until your hands were back to her wonderful ass.
It was an explosion of pleasure being this deep inside Tiffany, feeling every last bit of her pussy with your throbbing hungry shaft as you pounded her to the hilt.
You wanted more of this sexual woman, you desperately needed more than what you were taking from her as you reached down just above her currently filled slit and teased her puckered hole with your thumb.
The moan you heard from Tiffany signaled she not only enjoyed this but wanted more. You were happy to indulge her as you let spit fall out of your lips and land inside her tight rim as you pushed your thumb inside her forbidden area.
You pushed past your knuckle and pumped slowly in rhythm as you gently opened her up, giving yourself a sample of how tight her other hole was.
“Do you like taking it in the ass?” you asked, pushing in as deep as your thumb could go as the rim of her ass invited you in.
“Fuck yes, sir. But I want more than just your thumb inside my ass.”
You would be more than happy to help her with that as you gave her your final round of thrusts inside her pussy, slowly withdrawing from her warmth in preparation of what the next step was.
“There’s lube in my purse.”
You grabbed her expensive purse that had been forgotten on its side, opening it up and trying not to snoop around as you found a clear bottle of liquid tucked away at the bottom.
“A woman always comes prepared. Even when I’m not working,” Tiffany said, flashing her bright smile again as she looked over her shoulder while you lined up your lubed cock with the rim of her ass.
The instant you felt flesh on flesh you felt your breath being taken away as you nudged against Tiffany’s ass and took a deep breath in preparation.
“It’s been a few days since I’ve gotten a request for anal. I’ve been craving it so badly, I can’t wait to feel how that cock feels inside my ass.”
You couldn’t wait any longer, pushing your hips forward as your cock slipped inside her warm and suffocatingly tight asshole, disappearing in between her cheeks. Startly slowly, you penetrated her with the tip of your cock before shoving the entirety of your length inside, every inch of your throbbing shaft being squeezed firmly.
“Holy shit, that’s fucking tight,” you moaned, not offering her time to adjust the thick flesh inside her as you wanted her opened up without hesitation. Tiffany didn’t seem to mind one bit as her hands scrambled to wrap her slender fingers around the bed sheets, letting out satisfied moans of pleasure as you pumped away.
Your hands found their rightful place on her wide hips once more and you watched intently as you buried your shaft to the hilt inside her shapely ass, every motion you made intensified by the grippingly tight hole that swallowed up your cock.
You established a furious pace, even harsher than when you had been inside her pussy as the overwhelming tightness surrounded the entirety of your shaft. Every loud smack of your hips caused her asscheeks to ripple, your balls slapping against her dripping cunt as she shouted out louder in deep bliss.
The rhythm was harsh and merciless, in and out your cock speared Tiffany’s tight asshole repeatedly as you were able to fuck her with ease, stuffing her perfect little ass with as much cock as would fit, unleashing a torrent of rough thrusts that shook the entire bed.
“Is this what you like, Tiffany? Being a good little slut for me?”
“Y-yes, sir, I love how deep you are, I feel so fucking full. I don’t want you to stop until you’re satisfied.”
Tiffany had satisfied you plenty already, but you wanted to hold her to her words, and you weren’t done with her. You went all in, using Tiffany’s body for your own pleasure and let your animalistic urges take over, thrusting into her tight ass with every amount of force and energy you had in you.
It was rough, loud, and certainly pleasurable to fuck her at such an extreme pace, wondering if you had started to hurt her but the never-ending stream of moans that escaped her throat signaled the opposite.
“Oh fuck, It feels so good!”
“You like your ass being fucked like this? God, you’re still so fucking tight!
“Y-yes! I love my tight little asshole being stretched, please keep using me!”
Tiffany’s pleading words were the very encouragement you needed to use the remaining strength you had. If this was the first use of her services, you might need to make weekly appointments with her.
You wanted to take more pleasure from Tiffany’s willing body as you grabbed her slender arms and locked them behind her, driving your cock deep inside her hot little asshole knowing the end would soon be near for you.
Tiffany’s noise of pleasure intensified as the use of her arms to find any sort of purchase was taken away from her, giving in and losing any self of control as you gave the harshest thrusts into her ass you could muster with only the goal of climax in mind.
With a bruising grip on her slim wrists you held her arms in place, furiously thrusting into her warm hole carelessly, sweat dripping down your forehead as you mercilessly used Tiffany’s body, feeling a knot tightening in your abdomen.
“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” you growled, the words almost involuntarily slipping out of your lips as the pressure boiling inside your body was quickly becoming too much, pistoning wildly into her ass and desperately chasing your orgasm.
“Please cum for me, sir. Cum wherever you would like.”
It took you some time to figure out where just where you wanted to do that, as each subsequent thrust brought you closer and closer to orgasm. The thought of spilling your seed in her tight ass was very appealing, but painting that gorgeous face of hers with your thick load was irresistible and won out in the end.
With the final decision made you gave into your desires, savoring the last bit of hammering thrusts inside her ass until your limits had been reached and you withdrew from her now gaping hole, hopping off the bed.
“Come here, get on your knees. Hurry up.”
Tiffany scurried to join your position, excitedly getting on her knees on the side of the bed for you without wasting any time. Both of you knew you didn’t have long as you slowly stroked your cock, aiming it at her perfect features.
“Cum all over my face, sir. Please, I know you’re just dying to make a mess all over me.”
The copious amount of dirty talk that left Tiffany’s lips was the tipping point, her eyes staring up at you as her hands caressed your thighs, rubbing them up and down and trying to urge your orgasm.
“F-fuck, Tiffany, I’m cumming!”
“Cover me, sir! I need your cum so badly, please cum all over me!”
You held her head with your free hand, keeping her in place as the moment you both had been waiting for arrived. With just a few more strokes you unloaded all over her face. You sprayed her forehead with thick hot spurts of semen, then her cheeks and nose, finally ending with her lips until she was thoroughly glazed, smiling the entire time until not a single drop remained.
When she had earned every last drop from she took your still pulsating shaft from you, sucking your tip to make sure nothing was left, as the generous load you left staining her features slowly dripped down her face.
“Thank you, sir,” Tiffany said with the biggest smile on her face as she licked her lips, trying to taste the fresh warmth that had been deposited on her skin. Her features now coated with thick cream had never looked better, accentuating her stunning visuals as the happiness in her eyes now clearly visible.
Her slender fingers wrapped around your sensitive shaft, running her hands from base to tip and giving a firm squeeze.
“You’re still hard?” Tiffany asked, giving your balls a firm tug.
“You’ve got ten minutes left, sir. Think you can go for another round?”
Trying to catch your breath you let out a gentle nod as Tiffany looked on in delight, her face still stained with your generous load and she had never looked prettier.
“Perfect! I’ll go cleaned up and you can take a break. Meet me in the shower whenever you’re ready.”
Tiffany was as bubbly and bright as ever as she left your sight, her wide hips swaying as she disappeared into the bathroom.
✦✦
The hot steamy shower was the perfect backdrop, accompanied by the sound of running water and desperate gasps and moans. If the bedroom had been the main course this was the much needed dessert to satisfy your appetite.
Tiffany had the energy of a woman who seemingly could go all night, and you were lucky for just an hour of her time,
She had an insatiable look in her eyes, as her legs spread wide for easy access as you held on to each of her supple cheeks with your palms, pinning her body against the cold shower door as you repeatedly bounced her on your wet cock.
The echoing shower walls were filled with equal parts lustful noises and steam as you carried her weight, driving yourself again and again into her pussy as the hot water sprayed down your naked bodies.
Tiffany’s energetic expression had been turned into lust and desire as her hands wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, taking every inch into her body with ease and demanding more and more.
The sounds of hot flesh against flesh spurred your loins as you gave a final set of thrusts before setting her back down, letting her bare feet touch the shower tile for a moment before you spun her around, inserting yourself into her tightness once more.
Neither of you said a word as you once again pinned Tiffany’s body to the shower door, communicating only in pleasurable moans as her breasts were smashed against the glass as you pistoned into her hole, grabbing onto a handful of hair for good measure.
Water droplets bounced off her skin in time with her rippling cheeks to the rhythm of just two people, weren’t going to last the full ten minutes, not that you needed to. This time you weren’t going to leave her warmth until you were done with her, you weren’t going to let her leave the steam-filled shower without your cum dripping down her thighs.
Your time in the shower seemed to last forever as you pounded Tiffany, trying to find your desired outcome. With your fingers wrapped in a bundle of rough ponytail while the other squeezed a hip, you took your final moments of pleasure from her and maintained constant desperation for your release.
“I’m going to cum inside you, Tiffany,” you said directly into her ear, not asking for permission, simply letting her know that she was only there to execute your whims as your hands roamed her delicious backside before finding their destination, giving a hard slap against her ass that caused her pussy to tighten around you.
“Please do, sir. Please cum inside me!”
It took little time at all as you slammed into her cunt, burying yourself to the hilt for the last few strokes, making each one count. Moaning loudly enough to overpower the water current you erupted, spilling your seed deep into Tiffany’s tight pussy and filling her insides with a plentiful flood of semen.
You thrusted until you couldn’t, emptying your balls inside the inviting woman’s hole while you throbbing wildly until you were drained, sending everything you had into her body. You barely had enough energy to stand as you rested your chin on her shoulder, letting go of the tight grip of her raven locks as they draped across her wet naked back.
Exhausted gasps echoed together as you slowly withdrew an inch at a time until she was no longer filled with flesh, your cum leaking out of her splayed pink lips and staining her beautiful thighs as it spilled onto the water underneath, washing itself away.
“You’re...amazing,” you weakly said, gasping between tired syllables.
“Just part of the job, sir.”
Tiffany spun around for you and let you gander once more at her naked body, and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time you saw her in this state as you both took your exit out of the shower.
You dried off and slipped into a fresh pair of boxers and took a seat on the bed. Tiffany joined shortly after, leaving the bathroom still filled with steam in a loosely tied bathrobe.
“Was everything satisfactory, sir?” she asked, disposing of the cotton white robe as she commenced the part of the night you were regretting, changing back into what she arrived in.
“Couldn’t ask for anything better, Tiffany. You were wonderful.”
“Thank you, sir. Call me if you need my services again.”
529 notes · View notes
soramei · 3 years
Text
Intentional - Part 2
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)
Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?
Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn
Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,
Word Count: 5.2k
Masterlist
A/N: o my god i did not expect so many people to have read the first part… even if only one person reads im still happy :D anyways heres the second part (i swear bang chan wont just be a side character later on hhahaha)
The insistent beeping of the alarm on your phone was what first woke you up from your dazed sleep. Your head still pounded from the night before, and frankly, you were ready to get fired for an extra five minutes of sleep. Tapping the ‘cancel’ button on your phone, you flipped over head down on your pillow to find the beautiful dreamland you were in. However, after just five more minutes, the triggering beeping of your backup alarm took you out of your slumber again, this time really waking you up. 
You trudge towards your bathroom, still dreading the day, on your way to take a shower. Thankfully, the steam from the warm shower combined with the fragrant smell of your conditioner slightly woke you up and dampened the aching in your head. 
Being drastically more awake than before, you made your way over to your kitchen to prepare breakfast. You opened the fridge, mind blank, just staring at the empty shelves. I seriously need to do some grocery shopping, you thought before grabbing an egg. 
You struggled to turn on the stove, not knowing which knob correlated to which burner. Turning a random one, you flinched when an excessive amount of fire appeared. However, after an embarrassingly long amount of time, you finally figured out the stove. Why are there still gas range stoves when electrical stoves exist? You wondered. 
You looked at the sad cooked egg in front of you. 
Was this really how you were going to live from now on? You cursed your whole family for spoiling you so much back home. Sure you were grateful for being able to live with your family for twenty three years, but the consequences of your mother making a fuss when you tried to cook for yourself was really showing now. 
You were about to dig into your lonely meal when your phone buzzed all of a sudden. Taking a quick peek at it, you saw Na-eun’s name flash up. You beamed with joy. Although you already worked up the nerve to be the first one to contact her, you were thankful she did first to break the tension. However, there was a small — microscopic even — part of you that wondered: what if that were Bang Chan?
You unlocked your phone. 
Na-eun: Hey! I know it’s kinda last minute, but do you wanna meet for breakfast?
Na-eun: There’s a café five minutes away from the building. 
Na-eun: ^-^
Smiling to yourself, you quickly typed a reply.
Y/n: Sure! My breakfast looks too sad to eat… 
Y/n: ^-^
In a flash, you stuffed your egg into a plastic tupperware container and put it in the empty fridge before booking it out your door, making sure to carefully enter the passcode to lock it before running to the staircase. You almost tripped over the stairs going down as you tried to sprint and text Na-eun at the same time. Checking the maps app on your phone, you told her how long it would take for you to arrive at the café. 
Na-eun: Do you mind if I bring my roommate? She keeps complaining about how boring it is at home haha.... 
Na-eun: She’s really nice though! ^^;
You happily agreed since you weren’t in the position to turn down another potential friend. Already two potential friends? You were so excited. 
There was a bounce in your steps as you made your way down to the subway. Scanning your card, you made your way to the big group of people on the platform and waited for your train. Taking the subway was so new, yet refreshing. There was something exciting about seeing a brand new set of people board the cart every stop, it was almost like refreshing your Instagram feed over and over again. 
After just a couple minutes more of waiting, your subway came. You naturally found your way in by shuffling along with the flock of people and found a good place to stand. 
You surveyed your cart. Some high school students, a few elderly, and many many businesspeople dressed in attire very similar to you. They all seemed to be busy on their cellular devices, so you quickly pulled yours out as well, eager to blend in. Your little Tamagotchi friend was happy to see you. 
The sound of the automated woman’s voice was what drew you out of your concentration, as she announced that the subway would be stopping at your destination next. When the subway stopped, the sea of people rushed out in a big tidal wave and you just went along with the flow. 
The map posted on a big pillar in the station was difficult to read at first, but after embarrassingly asking a station officer, you were confident you knew where you were going. The station was big with many interwoven hallways, each connecting to a different location. It had a couple shops and convenience stores located along the sides where students running late could buy some bread or tired businesspeople could inject their early morning dose of caffeine. 
You weaved your way through the long halls, confident that you could remember how you got out the right exit yesterday. Finally, after passing by many familiar stores and signs, you eventually made it above ground at the right exit. It was a cloudy September morning, the wind flew past you at just the right speed to elicit a slight shiver. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket in your rush to the café. The streets were busy with cars zooming by, but it was nowhere near as congested as the subway traffic.
You started following your phone’s GPS to the marked location, and after a couple minutes, you spot the café. You immediately recognized it as a chain café as you’ve seen a few more of these scattered around the city as you got around. This one, however, appeared to be larger than the others (presumably because it was near so many big name companies) as it had three floors in total. 
You texted Na-eun, telling her you’ve arrived. She let you know that they were both in one of the booths on the second floor, so you decided to order before heading up. Walking over to the cashier, you scanned their massive menu, trying to find what you were looking for.
“One mango juice, please.” You politely ordered. “And also a slice of the red velvet cake.”  
After you had paid, you waited patiently, hands folded in front of you for your food. Because it wasn’t busy in the morning, it wasn’t that long until one of the baristas handed your food to you on a tiny plastic tray and you started making your way up. You reached the top floor and scanned your eyes around the room to find a familiar face. 
“Y/n!” Na-eun waved.
You waved back and made your way over. She was in the booth, and there was another girl sitting beside her. 
“Y/n, this is my roommate Yoojin.” She smiled at you and made a gesture towards the smaller girl sitting beside her. She was a fluffy haired girl. Her appearance was puppy-like, with her wide eyes and a large smile that was almost too big for her face. 
“Hi Yoojin.” You said as you sat down. 
“Hi Y/n! Na-eun told me about you yesterday. It seems like you have similar jobs.” She looked back at you with wide eyes. “But I think you got luckier because you actually get to interact with the idols.” 
“I think both of us are lucky to even be working there,” you chuckled, “plus, I don’t actually get to be working directly with the artists. I could only wish.” You joked. 
“Still extremely lucky, Na-eun told me she saw Bang Chan and Felix from Stray Kids at your building’s cafeteria yesterday.” Her hair bounced. “Finally, now I can say I’ve indirectly met famous people.” 
You and Na-eun both laughed. Although Yoojin looked the same age as you, there was something about the way she acted that just seemed so precious and innocent — like a little sister. How old was she anyway?
“Yoojin’s younger than me by a few years,” Na-eun said as if she read your thoughts, “She graduated university a year early. Top of her programming class. She knows everything about technology; one time, I stupidly forgot the passcode to my P.O. box and she cracked it for me in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Stop it.” Yoojin whined, looking down and playfully hitting Na-eun on the shoulder. “I told you before that I don’t like it when you talk about me. Let’s talk about Y/n instead. Na-eun told me you’re not from here, what do you do at JYPE then?” 
“I’m an assistant to help market some of the artists in China.” You leaned in a bit. “Actually, to be honest, I’m working on a secret project and Bang Chan from Stray Kids is technically part of the team.” 
Both Yoojin and Na-eun’s eyes widened. “No way, you’re so lucky.” Yoojin said. “Why can’t you have a job like that?” She poked at Na-eun.
“Get your own job first,” Na-eun smirked, “then we can talk about mine.”  
“Hey! I do have a job.” Yoojin clenched her jaw, looking at her plate and avoiding eye contact.
“I’m not sure if talking to people online all day counts as a job.” 
“Whatever.” Yoojin swirled her fork on her plate, stabbing at a piece of her cake. The scraping of metal on ceramic made all of you wince. 
“Anyways,” you started, trying to change the atmosphere, “did anybody watch the first episode of that new drama?” 
The two girls seemed to have a mood switch, looking relieved to start a new conversation. They gladly added their input and opinions on the new drama, talking about both the plot and the actors. Time passed by twice as fast as the three of you sat at the booth talking about the most random things. However, it was soon time to go to work for both you and Na-eun. 
“Hey, before you leave, could I get your number?” Yoojin asked. “We should hang out again sometime.”  
You gladly typed your contact into her phone, excited to hang out with Yoojin again. She was so full of energy, it reminded you of your university days. Not to mention that fluffy curly hair. It was so cute. 
You and Na-eun both made it out of the café and walked side-by-side over to your building before parting ways at the elevator corridor. It was a miracle that you managed to arrive at your cubicle in time, without getting lost. There was a pile of papers on your desk; they were the files you worked on yesterday. You remember that yesterday Manager Chen marked some improvements that could be made to the papers, but you checked your email just to be sure. 
Hello Y/n,
I put the documents from yesterday on your desk for some final edits. I’ve also added a few more. Could you finish them all by the end of the day?
Best, 
Manager Chen
You flipped through the stack of documents, and sure enough, there were about five more letters that needed to be worked on. Feeling determined, you gritted your teeth, got out your pen, and started to do your job. 
There were more corrections to make than what you expected, plus, you wanted to make sure your work was perfect this time. You skipped a trip to the cafeteria for lunch and ate something from the vending machine at your desk instead. You tried your best to work diligently, but because of your inexperience, it was taking longer than expected. You lost track of time as the hours passed by. 
“Your team is working hard today, Manager Chen.” A voice came from across the room. You looked up from your stack of documents to see Manager Kim walking over towards Manager Chen, who was standing casually outside her office doors. 
“What can I say, I keep them busy.” She replied. “Are you heading home now?” 
“Yes, and so should you.” Manaker Kim stopped at your cubicle, putting a hand on the wall. It was cat-like the way he looked at you. “Y/n, you’re working hard. Are you going home now? I’ll give you a ride.” 
You couldn’t head home now, not with the amount of work you still had with the new letters Manager Chen added to the pile. “Thank you for the offer, Manager Kim, but I’ll stay later today. I need to finish this work by today.” 
“Let her be, Manager Kim, you know how new employees are.” Manager Chen nagged and crossed her arms. “Come, I’ll walk you to the parking lot.” 
You bowed at both your managers and stretched your back before getting back to your work. The black lines of both languages started to blur into one as you strained your eyes to hold a tighter focus on the documents. It wasn’t until two more gruesome hours later when you finished your work. You did a long deserved stretch of the arms and checked the clock for the time, praying that it wasn’t too late. Thankfully, with the time being only eight, it wasn’t that dark out. You took a quick peek at your phone to check your notifications before leaving the office. 
There were only two texts sent fifteen minutes ago. Both from Bang Chan. 
Your chest tightened when you unlocked your phone. 
Bang Chan: Hey, I know it’s a bit late, but I have some ideas for the project and I was thinking we could meet up to discuss them
Bang Chan: Only if you want that is…
Your brain was in jumbles as you thought of what to text back. There were a couple staff that wrote you emails about their ideas for the project, but none of them asked to meet in person. And now, the first person who asked you to have a meeting in person was Bang Chan. Whom you rode back to your apartment drunk with. On your first day at work. And now you missed his work-related text by fifteen minutes. However, even though it was late, you still felt like you needed to take his ideas in. After all, like Manager Chen said, you know how new employees are. 
Y/n: Hi, sorry my reply is late… Are you still free? 
You anxiously stared at the blue-lit screen of your phone, jumping in and out of the text app waiting for a reply. After less than a minute, you saw the little dots at the bottom which indicated that he was typing. It disappeared for a moment, only to come back less than a second later. Your thumbs started unconsciously fiddling with one another in front of your phone screen as you waited for what felt like eternity. 
Bang Chan: It’s alright haha 
Bang Chan: There’s a cafe about 5 minutes from our building, wanna meet there? 
You immediately knew which café he was talking about as you conveniently hung out with Na-eun there this morning. You texted Bang Chan back, letting him know that you would be there as soon as possible. You grabbed your bag, along with your trusty pen and notebook,  before leaving your desk for the elevators. The elevator ride was unusually fast as it was already well past working hours for most people.  
Once you were out of the building, you made your way down the familiar sidewalk, passing by the familiar street shops as you felt the bite of the wind against your face. The sky was becoming dim as the sun made its descent, but the illumination coming from the streetlamps helped guide you there. After five minutes of a brisk walk, you saw the familiar sign of the café. You also saw a familiar person standing outside the door, dressed in all black, with his head down looking at his phone. 
You tried to make your footsteps slightly louder the closer you got to him in order to make your presence known. It seemed to have worked, as Bang Chan heard you and turned his head up. He immediately gave you a boyish grin, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and pulling his face mask down to his chin. 
“Hey,” You waved awkwardly, “did I make you wait long?”
“Not at all.” Bang Chan said as he held open the door, “Let’s go in, it’s pretty chilly today.” 
You thanked him and walked inside. You both made your way to the cashier and looked up at the menu, deciding on what to buy. 
“I think I’ll get an iced americano.” Bang Chan said. “Are you getting anything?”
“Hmm. I might get the mango juice.” You decided and lined up behind Bang Chan, waiting for him to order first. 
Bang Chan walked up to the waiting barista. “Hello, I’ll get an iced americano please.” A second passed. “Also a mango juice.” 
Your eyes widened as you silently tried to stop him from buying your drink, feeling embarrassed that Bang Chan — who was essentially your coworker — was buying your drink. He didn’t seem to notice your quiet protests, as he pulled his card out of his wallet and quickly tapped it on the pin pad. After he was done paying, he turned around and tucked his card back in his wallet, giving you a smug grin. 
“I’ll pay you back later.” You insisted, embarrassed once again that he was doing something for you. 
“Of course, of course.” He casually replied and stood beside you with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll wait for our drinks. You can go find a table.” 
You nodded and left to find a table on the first floor. Surprisingly, there were more people there at night than when you were there in the morning. Some people had their textbooks out to study, some were quietly enjoying a book. Some were on dates. 
Finally, after weaving through many fully filled tables, you found an empty one near the table. You sat down, taking out your pen and notebook to prepare for Bang Chan’s ideas. Not long after, you saw Bang Chan walking around, turning his head left and right to look for you. You caught his eye as you waved at him to come over. He strolled over and put the tray of drinks down on the table, placing yours beside your notebook. 
“So,” You took a sip of your delicious mango juice, “do you wanna get started now?” 
“Sure.” His usually friendly face turned serious. It seemed like he took his work seriously. “So I was thinking, we need to film some content to start promoting our debut right? How about we film content for the Mid-Autumn Festival? It falls on the same day as Chuseok, so we can use this as a small promotion for our debut.” 
You nodded in agreement. Although this idea would be a little last minute to carry out, it was a great opportunity to promote their group in order to gain more popularity before their debut in China. “This is a great idea Bang Chan,” You hurriedly jotted down everything he said, “did you have more to add on?”  
“We could make several episodes of this content. I was thinking we could camp in the mountains and maybe cook some food, make mooncakes.” 
“All of this is really good, we have three weeks until the actual Mid-Autumn Festival. If I rush this idea to Manager Chen, we could have one week to plan it, and two weeks to film and produce it.” You beamed, glad that you could be involved in a potential big production. 
You and Bang Chan kept discussing his idea for content, and as time passed, your conversation turned more casual as it eventually evolved into topics unrelated to work.
“So, why are you having coffee this late anyway?” You tipped your chin towards his glass. 
“There’s this part of a song I’m working on that I just can’t get perfect,” Bang Chan noticeably clenched his jaw, “I wanna figure it out before I leave.” 
“Do you usually stay up late to work?” You asked. 
“I can’t sleep anyways, so I might as well work.” 
“Insomnia?” You questioned. He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. A few seconds of silence passed. “You know, my mom made me pack some of her special tea before leaving. She said it was for jet lag, which is weird because there’s only a time difference of an hour here.” You rambled. 
“Oh?” Bang Chan tipped his head. 
“I could give you some tomorrow.” You said. Your eyes wandered everywhere except to him. “If you want.” 
“Really, you’d do that?” His eyes widened as he stirred his coffee with his straw. 
It may have been your subconscious need to make friends, or just the fact that you mom gave you so much tea for your non-existent jet lag, but you gladly offered your mom’s solve-all remedy. “Of course, anything for a friend.” 
He blinked a couple times. He stopped stirring his coffee. “Thanks.” He looked at you with a slight grin. 
“Plus, this way I can pay you back.” You teased. 
“Okay, fair enough.” He chuckled. A dimple appeared on his cheek as his smile widened. “But seriously, you don’t need to worry about paying me back for anything next time.” 
Next time? You wondered. Of course he would have more ideas for his own group. You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself. It seemed like, despite his easy-going personality, that he cared a lot about not only his job, but the boys he worked with. His work ethic inspired you and made you want to work just as hard as he did. Except you definitely couldn’t stay up as late as he did. 
The two of you kept up the back and forth that was established, talking about whatever came to mind, with a few sprinklings of work-related conversations throughout. You talked about your first day impressions and how well you were adjusting to life in a new country, and he retaliated by sharing his own experiences of moving across the world. You were so enraptured by your riveting conversations that you easily lost track of time. It wasn’t until you had already spent minutes playing around with your straw in the empty glass that you finally remembered how late it was.
“It’s kinda late, I think I should get going now.” You said as you checked your phone for the time. 
“Are you taking the subway?” He asked as he started gathering the empty glasses. “It’s pretty dark now — I could walk you there.”
“It’s alright. I don’t wanna take time from your work” You said, gathering your notebook and pen. 
“It’s no problem, really, it’s just a five minute walk.” He stood up with the tray of empty glasses in one hand and pulled up his face mask with the other.
The two of you left the café and walked the short distance to the subway stairs.  There, you parted ways and you started your trek home. Taking the subway at night was vastly different from morning; the morning rush was filled with rows and rows of busy people, whereas the night train had a completely different feeling to it. There were actually available seats, to begin with. You found an empty seat and took out your phone to kill time. You checked your missed notifications.
Yoojin: Hi Y/n!! ^-~ Today was so fun, we should go again sometime! 
You smiled at the little text from Yoojin, visioning her wide smile stretch across her face. Texting a quick reply back, you were about to put your phone back down when another notification popped up. 
Unknown: Stay away from him. This is a warning.  
A flash of panic rushed through your body making your chest tighten. Your heart was coming out of your chest, the beating was so hard you could hear it even in the running subway. Completely fixated on the bright white of your phone, your eyes strained from the light. Adrenaline filled your blood, and in the spur of the moment, you quickly blocked the number and deleted the text chain. It had to just be a prank text, after all, you have gotten pranked through text multiple times before in your past. 
You put your phone down slowly, turning your head to survey your subway cart for any suspicious acting people. There was only a grandma with her cane and a few middle school girls comparing their new lip tints. Your thumbs naturally started fiddling with each other. Your eyebrows knit together as you clutched your bag tight to your body for the rest of the subway ride. 
The walk back to your apartment was done carefully. You chose the side of the sidewalk with more light as you kept your senses open, trying to remember the face of every person that walked past you. Although it was more likely than not that the text was just a prank, you were still somebody living alone with very few connections in a new country. Your legs quickened at the thought and you hurried your way back.
Arriving at your apartment door, you carefully entered your lock combination and slammed your door shut, double checking that it was locked. Your home was dark, with only the moon casting long shadows on your furniture. You quickly switched your light on. You tried to put this text to the back of your mind as you got ready to sleep, but it loomed, feeling like a shadow cast by the moon. The shadow in your mind stayed as you closed your eyes, waiting for your sleep to chase it away. 
The next morning, you woke up to the obnoxious beeping of your alarm. You sleepily sat up, getting ready to perform your familiar morning routine. Everything felt like routine, so monotonous that the text from last night was completely forgotten. You opened the fridge and ate your suspicious egg from yesterday morning. 
Before leaving, you suddenly remembered to bring your mom’s magical tea. You rummaged through the cupboards until you found the ridiculous packaging your mom insisted on using. 
The route to work was already starting to feel familiar as you mindlessly made your way from your quaint apartment all the way to the opulent blue building. You entered the office and sat at your desk, checking for new emails. After nothing of immediate importance came up, you got out your notebook and started to type up your notes from yesterday. 
You were in a trance. The repetitive task of reading and typing completely hypnotised you as hours passed by without you even noticing. What broke you out of your trance, however, was the voice of your boss. 
“Bang Chan.” Manager Chen called out. You looked up from your monitor and peeked up from your cubicle to see the familiar hair of a certain man you knew. Assuming he was here for a meeting with Manager Chen, you went back to your hypnotising work. The walls of your cubicle were too high for him to see you anyways — something about eliminating distractions to maximise work efficiency. 
You hit ‘enter’ on your keyboard to start a new paragraph when all of a sudden, you spotted an object appear on your desk from the corner of your eye. 
A bottle of mango juice. 
Quickly turning your head around, you were met with Bang Chan’s back. He was already making strides towards Manager Chen, but something about the sway of his broad shoulders and the way his right hand stretched open told you that it was him who gave you this little bottle of happiness. You unscrewed the lid and took a sip before getting back to work.  
Thankfully, the gift you received was enough sugar content to keep you working efficiently for the rest of the day. You had finished all your work and could hopefully pitch Manager Chen the idea by tomorrow. You found your mom’s tea in your bag while gathering your stuff, remembering your promise to Bang Chan. 
Y/n: Hey, I have my mom’s tea — I could give it to you right now?
There was a reply almost immediately. 
Bang Chan: Sure ^^ I’m in a practice room on floor X right now, I’ll wait by the elevators. 
You made your way over to the elevators and tapped your nails on the package of tea whilst silently waiting for an elevator to arrive. The silence, however, was promptly cut off as your phone started to ring. It was from Yoojin. She probably wants to hang out soon, you thought as you happily answered right away. 
“Y/n!” Yoojin yelled into the phone, she sounded worried. 
“Yoojin, is there something wrong?” You frowned, concerned for the girl. 
“I-I was in the parking lot near your building, a-and I fell down the stairs.” She sniffed. “I think I sprained my ankle or something — I can’t stand up. It hurts so much.” 
“Oh god, Yoojin, do you want me to come help?” You were in the elevator by now, already pressing the button for the main floor. 
“If you’re not far, I don’t want to trouble you.” You heard sounds of her wincing. 
“It’s no trouble Yoojin,” You exclaimed, “your ankle is much more important now. I’ll be right there.” 
“Thank you Y/n.” You heard her sniff again through the phone. 
You bolted out of the elevator as soon as it reached the main floor, stuffing your forgotten package in your bag. Ignoring the looks of confusion of the people you sprinted past, you located the parking lot building as soon as you left the main doors of the JYPE building. Your chest burned and your breaths were heavy. 
You were worried for Yoojin. She seemed like such a sweet girl that it pained you to even imagine her hurt in any sort of way. With her fluffy hair and wide eyes, it made you feel like you were helping an injured puppy. 
Your legs felt like concrete after a while of running, but you finally made it to the parking lot building. Entering the parking lot, you looked for any sign of a staircase where Yoojin said she fell on. There were none. 
“Excuse me, where are the stairs to this parking lot?” You asked the parking lot attendant, assuming it was just hidden somewhere. 
“There are no stairs here,” He said, “if you want to get to the second floor, there is an elevator over there.” He pointed to the other side of the lot. 
You thanked the man and ran to the elevator, hoping Yoojin wasn’t too hurt by now. You’ve experienced injuries like these before whilst playing sports back home, they hurt like hell. Your breathing was staggered by the time you reached the elevator, however, you didn’t give up and kept looking around trying to find the girl. There was nobody. You were about to call Yoojin again just to make sure you were in the correct place, but a voice interrupted you. 
“Y/n.” 
It was Manager Kim.
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littlestarrykenobi · 3 years
Text
Spin the Bottle (Akaashi x Reader NSFW one shot)
Summary: You are tired of Akaashi’s dual personality toward you and decide to get to the bottom of it with a bottle of wine and a late night alone. 
Warnings: NSFW, name calling, quickie, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 2793
The day you moved in you knew that Akaashi was going to be a troublesome roommate. The landlord assured you that the boys she already had living in the room were nice young men, one of them hardly ever home in the first place, and since you were desperate for somewhere to live before the start of term you didn’t figure that you had much of a choice otherwise.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto cheered as he set down the last box. “Barbeque dinner time yeah?! You promised!”
The door to Akaashi’s room was already shut before you had the chance to answer, leaving you alone with the silver haired extrovert. What you didn’t realize was that Akaashi had his back to the door, cheeks bright pink as he slid to the floor, staring at the ground as he tried to collect himself. He had hardly the occasion to speak two words to you before but he’d seen you on campus freshman year and now…? Well, he’d have to talk to you… unless…
You and Akaashi have been basically battling back and forth leaving each other subtle hints for nearly two months. The crush came fast, made of little reminder notes left on bathroom mirrors for both you and Bokuto and cups of coffee left hot for you on the kitchen counter in the mornings. You caught him sneaking little glances out of the corner of your eye before and it was sincerely sweet how he’d work late with you at the small kitchen table, his books spread over half of it while your side was just as messy. He’d make you little snacks at midnight, bring you coffee during especially strenuous study sessions, but when you would try and joke with him like you would with Bokuto he’d shut you out completely. It seemed almost impossible to you that these two men, so opposite in personality, could be such close companions but… You supposed that crazier things have happened.
“Oh come on Akaashi you and Bokuto have to have a little more in common than that,” You teased one evening.
“What do you mean?” He asked quietly.
“Well how is it that a guy like Bokuto who’s all machismo and confidence make friends with a-” You watched as his face fell, a blush on his cheeks as he shut his laptop hard.
“I should be getting to the library.”
“Wait, that came out wrong I-”
“No, no I’m not offended I really have to be going.”
Then you’d sigh and slump in your chair, working alone again. You were getting tired of how evasive Akaashi was, especially since you and Bokuto were really starting to get closer as friends.
“You just intimidate him!” Bokuto promised you one night as you sat at your favorite small dive bar. “He’s not used to having two pretty faces to deal with!”
“First off I’m not that pretty and second off how could I be intimidating?” You laughed, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink.
“Well, okay, Akaashi only had like… Two girls he ever went on a date with that I know about. Being his best friend, I think I’d know! So… What are you going to do huh? Maybe you could get him to do a movie night when I’m gone next weekend.”
“You’re going to be gone?” You muse, thinking it over. It’d be nice to spend more time with Akaashi and besides… The mystery had a little bit of an allure to it.
As you and Bokuto walked home you thought about it more and more. Why were you so determined to be Akaashi’s friend anyway? What did it matter if he hated you or something, Bokuto was clearly happy with you being at the apartment and besides it wasn’t causing you any trouble so why did you care so damn much about this handsome fit setter? But that’s when it began to hit you. The kindness of those notes about things you had due, the thoughtfulness of how he started getting snacks he’d know you’d like for your midnight essay writing, staying up with you when he didn’t need to to cram for tests… You were starting to fall for the way he showed you how he loved you, even if he couldn’t say any of this out loud… yet. That next weekend, when Bokuto was away for a game, you were going to figure out if the seemingly insane thing your brain came up with had any merit to it whatsoever.
You hear Akaashi come home, the door slamming behind him as he dragged himself over to the couch. You could see how the semester was stressing him out, wincing as his tired eyes turned to you. He had hardly been home for the past two days, holed up in the library as finals approached.
“I turned in that paper, Y/N,” He said softly, a proud smile on his face. “I can finally relax…”
“Oh?” You smiled as you joined him on the couch, noting how he made just enough room for you but didn’t quite move far enough for there to be any more than a few inches between the two of you. “Well then it’s a perfect time for a wine night isn’t it?”
“Honestly that sounds.. really nice…” He mumbled, blushing and clearing his throat as he thought about the advice Bokuto gave him.
It’s obvious she likes you too! Just… Say yes to it! Go with what she wants to do and then you’ll figure out the perfect time when it hits, just like we always have!
That wasn’t how they always had, true, but he understood the sentiment Bokuto was getting at. Shutting down opportunities to spend time with you wasn’t helping him one bit so… Why was this so difficult? He let you run off, getting the bottle of wine and the opener before you sat back down, filling two glasses.
“To work well done and reward well earned,” You smiled, clinking glasses with him as you eased into the couch.
Akaashi blushed, nodding with the toast as he leaned back as well, absent mindedly wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his cheeks hot with embarrassment the moment he realized it. But it was too late now, wasn��t it? If he pulled away you’d for sure notice and then think he didn’t want to have his arm around you which he totally did but if he leaves his arm and you don’t want him to have his arm around you then he just comes off as creepy, doesn’t he? He’d been maintaining a distance between you two for his own protection but now that you leaned into the way his arm had been wrapped around your shoulders that had vanished into thin air… and what surprised him most was how grateful he was for its absence.
That small touch was enough to put him at ease, not thinking about how the wine flowed until you were both three glasses deep, sharing stories from high school as he told you more about how Bokuto would practically form mushrooms pouting when he messed up in Volleyball. He felt your weight shift a little to look more at him as he decided to finally get bold. A tad bit woozy, he set the glass down before taking your face in both his hands, squishing your cheeks and his legs onto the couch.
“I want… to kiss you.” He mumbled, his blue eyes flickering all over your face, trying to memorize the way you heated up as he made his infamous split second decisions. “But I cannot…” He whispered, bursting out into laughter as he fell back onto the couch, clutching his chest like his heart had been pierced with an arrow.
You crawled between his legs, leaning over him with a grin.
“I could kiss you then,” You offer, leaning in to do just that before he puts his hand over your mouth, his palm pressed to your sweet lips.
“No,” He whined, shaking his head firmly. “You can’t.”
“And why not?” You pouted, voice muffled by his hand and reminding him of Bokuto’s pout just enough to inspire a large goofy grin.
“Because if I kiss you… I wont stop… and I want to remember… everything about that, Y/N-chan.” He purred, his hand moving quickly to behind your head, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest, taking a deep breath as he held you. “I like you… a lot… And… I just want to fall asleep with you like this… Can you stay with me tonight?”
His voice had just the slightest whine to it, clearly reluctant to let you go even if it was just to walk down the hall to his room. He could hardly remember the rest of the night, his leg hooked in between yours so you couldn’t wander off, his arms wrapped around your body so you were enveloped by his warmth… He fell asleep in his clothes, not caring that he was in jeans and a button down which are arguably some of the least comfortable sleeping clothes one could wear. The next morning when his head stopped spinning he spent almost twenty minutes just staring down at you, admiring how peacefully you slept with him, sighing contentedly. This was exactly how he wanted things to be with you…
He almost began to pretend to be asleep when you woke up but the way you said his name, mumbling it before you cuddled into him… He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead softly.
“I know Bokuto-san will be home soon but… I… I wanted to…” He stammered, his cheeks getting tomato red as you looked up at him with such big loving eyes.
You didn’t give him an opportunity to finish his sentence, pressing your lips to his so sweetly he could swear that he felt a cavity pop up right as it happened. He smiled into the tender kiss, one hand gently tangling into your hair, pulling you closer as your bodies pressed to the other, desperately seeking their touch. He couldn’t fully hold back his moan as you rolled on top, happy to let you straddle him as you kissed lovingly over and over, his face radiating heat as he realized what you could probably feel despite his jeans.
“You know I’m sure it wasn’t comfortable sleeping in your dress shirt like this…” You mumble as your fingers delicately begin to work on his buttons. He lets a shiver run down his spine, the morning sunlight making you glitter like a deity above him as he lets you completely take control.
“If this is what you want I-” he whispered before you started to giggle, making him furrow his brow. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” You tease. “Last night you were all ‘oh if I kiss you I’m not stopping’ and here you are, letting me be the dominant one.”
Akaashi smirked, huffing a little as you challenged his dominance. He quickly started to help you with his buttons, slipping out of the shirt as he sat up, throwing the garment aside as he wrapped an arm around your lower back, easily flipping you onto your back. “If you’re going to hold me to my promises like that, my little flower, then I suppose I have to do my best to fulfill every last one of them.”
His hands slipped up your shirt, fingers playing with your nipples as he pressed his lips to yours again, tugging and rolling them between his fingers, trying to illicit any reaction he could as he nibbled and sucked your bottom lip, reveling in your every small moan or noise.
“Keiji,” You whine as he moves his kisses to your jaw, finding a sweet spot by your ear before going for the pleasure centers in your neck.
“What is it, my flower?” he purrs, backing off of you just enough to slide your t-shirt over your head and throw it to the side, abandoned with his own in the corner.
“Y-You said… Bokuto could-“
“I don’t want to talk about him. I want to focus on you.” He growled, clearly a little jealous that he hadn’t rid your thoughts of everything and anything but him right now.
“N-No, Keiji he could walk in on us if we a-aren’t… you know…” you mumble, blushing darkly as you melt under his intense stare.
“Well… Then I suppose I’ll have to savor you another time, hmm? I should just punish you now then, is that it? Punish you for teasing me?”
You blush, shaking your head as he pulls off your sleep shorts, smirking to see the arousal already evident. “No underwear huh?” He chuckled. “Figures. You know who finds your… dirty panties in the bathroom, don’t you?”
Your brain is practically melting now, thinking back and remembering times when you must have forgotten to pick them up after showers. You always had all of them, you thought at least, and he’d never brought them up before so you hadn’t noticed.
“What if Bokuto-san had found them, hmm? What would he have said?” Akaashi growled, his digits quickly making work to stretch you out for his waiting, throbbing member as one hand worked on undoing his jeans. “Unless that’s what all this was, hmm? Playing us against each other? So fucking dirty, aren’t you?”
He pulled away just long enough to take off his pants, leaving them exactly where he was standing as he crawled back on top of you now completely nude, still towering over you as he pressed a finger into your mouth, making you suck your own need off of them. “Now be a good little flower, won’t you? Let me fuck your brains out.”
His pace wasn’t meant to let you adjust. If you were going to bring Bokuto up, remind him how Bokuto could be back at any minute, ruin the morning he’d been dreaming of then, well, he was going to ensure your pussy would be made into a perfect sleeve for his cock regardless of what you thought on the matter. He sucked on your neck as he drilled into you, carefully hitting your sweet spots as he held your chest to his, leaving marks hungrily all along your exposed skin. Keiji didn’t care to let anyone have even the slightest opportunity to imagine you without being reminded that he’d be there. One hand slipped back down to your sex, fingers working at a furious pace to get you off as your orgasm approached. You two were practically animals in heat, howling for each other as you took advantage of Bokuto’s absence.
“Fuck I’m so close,” he muttered, not realizing that was the first thing he’d even been able to say since he’d sheathed himself into you for the first time.
“Come on,” he whispered into your neck, not letting up on his speed. “Fuck baby I need you to cum…”
He begged for your orgasm, fingers working like mad as he finally felt you climax, gasping as his eyes widened, the hand working your sex quickly going to his own as he squeezed hard around the base, pulling out as quickly as he could to spill his cum on your stomach, panting as he painted it white with his sticky juices.
“F-Fuck,” he chuckled, still shaky as he tried to catch his breath. “You certainly know how to… take it out of me…”
He sat back on his heels, admiring how beautiful you looked covered in his cum after your own orgasm. “If I had any idea where my phone was I’d take a picture but… I suppose I can wait for next time…”
“Next time?” You said, ears perking up.
He furrowed his brow, confused and a little frustrated. “Wait you didn’t think…? Boke.”
Akaashi shook his head, sighing softly with a light smile. “Let’s clean you up before Bokuto gets home alright? I think I… Can finally tell him I have a girlfriend…”
He gently stroked your cheek before getting a tissue, happily cleaning your stomach as he let you sneak back into your room, out of the view of the living room. He stood in the door to your room, wearing some casual sweatpants and an old volleyball t-shirt, wrapping his arms around your body for a moment and giving you a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s go make breakfast yeah?” he mumbled.
“I was thinking pancakes!” Bokuto laughed as he passed by the two of you, heading to his room at the end of the hall, making Akaashi freeze. “By the way, a little quieter next time yeah? Might wake the neighbors!”
732 notes · View notes
lonelyyinchicago · 3 years
Text
“can i add to your collection?”
james stood in front of the mirror, pulling at the dark tufts of hair anxiously. he decided to abandon the uncontrollable mess that was his hair and return to his room. he changed out of his joggers into a white cotton shirt and blue jeans before pulling his worn-out converse out from under his bed.
the doorbell rang as he entered the kitchen. turning on his heel, he opened the door to see regulus on his front step, holding a bottle of wine.
regulus smiled up at him, clearly aware of the effect the black skinny jeans and dark green silk shirt were having on james.
“it’s your favourite” regulus said, holding out the bottle. “are we going to go out then?”
“i- yeah. mhmm yeah.”
“okay” regulus said, extending his hand, “the taxi’s waiting.”
“you look so good” james said in the lift down to the carpark.
“yeah and you wore converse.”
“shut up” james said with a shake of his head.
“and your hair’s still a mess.”
“i tried, okay? it doesn’t behave.”
regulus watched amusedly as james turned to see his reflection in the mirror in the lift. his heavily ringed fingers slid across james’ chest as he rested his forehead against james’ muscular back.
“just leave it” regulus said eventually, after james failed to make his hair stay still.
james turned in regulus’ arms, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s head. regulus looked up at his boyfriend, his hands travelling freely up and down james’ back.
“you do look good.”
“only good?” james asked in a voice of false hurt. “is that all?”
regulus rolled his eyes but stood up on his tiptoes to reach james’ lips. he smiled against james’ them, his hand wrapped possessively around his boyfriend’s neck. they only pulled apart as the lift doors opened, exposing them to the waiting taxi driver.
a slight blush appeared on regulus’ pale cheeks, as he led the way confidently to the car. they pulled up twenty minutes later outside their favourite italian.
the waitress showed them to a small, enclosed booth. it was dimly lit, and james squinted at the menu. their ankles brushed softly against each other, disguised by the darkness and long tablecloth.
“can you order for me? i want to use the bathroom.”
“yeah, sure - but you gotta tell me what you want first.”
“a glass of red, and pepperoni pizza please.”
“you got it” james said, leaning around the corner of the bench to try and get the waitress’ attention.
“would you like me to come back when your-”
“no, that’s okay; he told me what he’d like. so can i get a glass of the house red, a pepperoni pizza, a spaghetti carbonara and a gin and tonic please.”
“okay. food should be ready in about half an hour.”
james nodded as he handed the menus back. regulus slid onto the bench opposite almost immediately after she left.
“you okay?” james asked as regulus fiddled with the numerous silver rings spread across his fingers.
“hmm? oh, yeah. i’m okay.”
“hey.” james reached across the table, gently enveloping regulus’ hands in his own warm ones. “we can go if you want.”
“i don’t want to do that. seriously, i’m fine.”
james shook his head disbelievingly but retracted his hands as the plates arrived.
“ugh yours looks so good” regulus complained as james picked at the small pieces of bacon. “can i-?” he asked, leaning over the table towards james’ pasta.
“help yourself” james said, nudging the plate closer.
regulus let a small smile play at his lips as he wrapped the pasta around his fork, the utensil hitting the silver rings softly between each twirl.
james watched the quick movements as he attempted to pick up his own mouthful of pasta. he watched regulus’ slender fingers move effortlessly, before regulus dropped the fork, staring back at james.
“what?” he asked defiantly.
“nothing. can i have some of the pizza?”
“mhmm. this pasta is literally so good.”
“i know; that’s why i ordered it” james teased.
“okay okay i’ll stop.”
“you know i don’t mind really” james said, opening his mouth for regulus to give him a perfectly sized mouthful of pasta. “especially when you do that.”
taking back his plate, regulus picked up a slice of pizza, balancing it delicately on his pale fingertips. james watched a trickle of orange oil dribble down the length of one regulus’ fingers, coming to a sudden halt as it hit the snake-shaped band of silver on his thumb.
wiping his mouth quickly, james reached into his pocket for his wallet. he looked down at the small silver band he’d been carrying around for the last month or so. he gently removed it from the wallet, repeatedly turning it over in his fingers under the table.
“hey, err reg?” james’ voice cracked slightly as regulus looked up at him, the poor lighting combined with his long curls covering half of his face.
“c-can i add to your collection?” he asked, finally bringing his hands above the table, the small ring between his thumb and forefinger.
“james.”
regulus’ voice was hushed; barely audible. his eyes were floating between james’ and the ring. he exhaled shakily, reaching out across the table.
regulus seemed to take forever to answer, and james dipped his head as tears began to pool in his eyes.
“i-i’m sorry. it was probably terrible timi-”
“james.” the seriousness of regulus’ tone forced james to look up. “yes. baby, i’m saying yes.”
“really? a-are you sure?”
regulus rolled his eyes slightly, before moving onto the bench next to james. he extended his hand to allow james to slide the ring onto his fourth finger. he looked down at it before leaning forward to plant a firm kiss on james’ lips.
“yes” he breathed, his lips still against james’. “yes, yes, yes.”
james’ grin returned as regulus ran his thumb along his jawline.
“i love you.”
“i love you too” regulus assured him. “don’t you dare forget it.”
“do you want to come back to mine? there’s wine there” james added.
“how could i say no.”
james’ smile widened as they left the restaurant, apparating directly to his block of flats.
“couldn’t you have got us a bit higher? so we don’t have to climb all the stairs?”
without warning, regulus’ feet left the ground as james scooped him up, carrying him to his door on the fifth floor.
“i didn’t mean . . put me down.”
“or what?” james asked, his eyebrow raised. “what are you going to do from there?”
regulus buried his head in james’ chest, unable to hide his smile. he tightened his grip around james’ neck as they sat down on the sofa, breathing in the well-known and comforting smell of his aftershave.
sat across james’ lap, regulus looked down at his boyfriend before leaving a trail of kisses along james neck. regulus paused to undo the buttons of james’ shirt before continuing to his collarbone.
james’ hands found themselves around regulus’ waist, his fingers ghosting over the pale skin.
james opened his eyes as regulus’ lips abandoned his skin for the second time.
“you okay?”
regulus sat quietly for a moment before answering the question carefully.
“i have never been better - and it’s all because of you, so thank you.”
“eugh you softie” james said, pretending to gag. “i- ohhhmph”
james quickly shut up as regulus tugged at a gathering of hair, determined to disprove the nickname ‘softie’.
“i take it back” james amended, gasping as his boyfriend bit his lower lip.
“not a softie” regulus told him between kisses. “that’s what the rings are for.”
“apart from that one” james noted, pointing to the newest in the collection. “that one means that you agreed to spend your life with one person because you adore them, and you’re willing to put up with their flaws - although you don’t have to worry about that part because i don’t have any flaws.”
“is that so?” regulus asked, questioning james’ logic. “well that’s okay with me - i like that one the best.”
james picked up regulus’ left hand, raising it to his lips, which gently brushed over the ring.
“i love you so much.”
“i love you too baby, and d-”
“don’t ever forget it?” james suggested.
“i’m going to make sure you don’t” regulus informed him.
“do you promise?”
“i do.”
“you’re not supposed to say that yet” james told him. “but i appreciate the sentiment.”
regulus leant across the sofa to pick up a pillow, before bringing it hard into james’ face.
“would you just let me tell you i love you?”
“sorry. yes, i’m listening.”
“i love you, james potter, and i am honoured that you chose me to spend your life with, because god knows i don’t deserve someone as generous and kind-hearted as you. and i love you because you loved me when i didn’t even love myself, and because you refused to let me go even when i told you to and because you’re the clumsiest hopeless romantic ever whose warmth knows no bounds. i love you so much, and i’m still working on being good enough for you, but one day maybe i’ll get there, so thank you for staying in the meantime.”
james sat in silence, taking in every word. his hands had moved subconsciously to encompass regulus’ entire body.
“you are good enough for me. you’re so much more than just good. you’re the bravest person i know, and don’t lie to yourself, you’re a hopeless romantic too.”
“am not.”
james grinned, and regulus was forced to concede a smile. he shook his head as james sat up straighter to reconnect their lips, his eyes unable to look anywhere other than the newest silver ring on his hand.
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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years
Text
broken (part 2).
san x reader
word count: 12k
angst, fluff (tw: mentions of domestic abuse and rape)
(part 1)
no matter how many times you tried to change your thinking patterns, you still classified your life into two parts: before the abuse and after.
you thought, after watching your ex-boyfriend being escorted out of the courtroom with a one-year prison sentence, that you wouldn’t be scared of him anymore.
you thought that moving out of the house and living in your new apartment would make day to day life easier, not needing to see the floor you were beaten on or counter you were forced to have sex on every day.
you thought that having san would make you feel happy and loved and enough. that having a whole new family unit consisting of seven other crazy boys and a crotchety old lady would be enough.
but as you sit curled up on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes, you’re seeing you severely underestimated everything. 
underestimated just how much trauma you still had to sort through and how badly that asshole really did mess you up.
six months ago:
“so we have the surveillance footage and witness testimony from your neighbors,” your lawyer explains gently, an older woman with kind eyes and soft-spoken voice that quickly transforms in the courtroom. 
“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”
the harshest sentence being one year, a measly 365 days compared to the 1,825 he subjected you to every kind of abuse: sexual, emotional, mental, physical. 
hitting and grabbing and slapping until your skin was littered with bruises and cuts. 
talking so harshly to you that you believed dying was the best option, stripping you from any sort of confidence or self-esteem you once had. 
making you feel completely inept and useless, solely viewing you as a piece of property he could boss around and use at his disposal. 
you had left the office with shaking hands and a pounding heart, barely being able to dial san’s number before he answered after one ring. 
this was the first appointment you’ve went to without him, insisting he can’t and won’t miss his midterm for this. 
“hi, love. everything go okay?” he asks softly, with the sweet gentle voice that has quite literally kept you alive these past few months. 
you don’t know what you did in another life to deserve san but you know that without him, you probably wouldn’t have made it this far. without his constant support and sweet reassurances, you wouldn’t have believed you could ever do this. 
willingly tell police officers and lawyers about what happened to you, break down and expose yourself in such a way that always made you feel weak and pathetic. 
admit aloud that, yes, you’ve been a victim of abuse and no, those bruises and scars on your body aren’t from clumsy falls into the wall or cabinet. 
without him, accompanying you to the police station or lawyer’s office, where you knew jungkook was lingering, you would’ve never felt safe. 
you would’ve broke down and took it all back, told them that you made it all up and to release him because he didn’t do anything wrong.
but he did so much wrong and you and san know that. the police and lawyers and judges know it too, several outbursts from the man in court and at the station proving that. 
it’s what makes the thought of a personal statement so hard, having to look your ex-boyfriend in the face and watch him stare you down with not an ounce of remorse or sorrow.
san must know it too, if your silence through the phone tells him anything, and you can already hear shuffling in the background as he prepares to leave his class and head to your apartment.   
“are you done with your test?” you ask first, voice sweet but mousy in a way that makes san’s stomach sink
he knew today was gonna be rough for you, he knew he should’ve asked his professor to retake the midterm next week. 
“yes,” the boy answers immediately, knowing he’s about to run back into the classroom, circle c for the last three answers and haul ass to his car. 
“san, are you-”
“i was done, it’s fine, y/n,” he confirms gently, feet moving and body desperate to rush toward your apartment. 
because he knows after all of this time, you’ve learned to hold back your pain and suffering. years of practice and keeping tears at bay that he’s noticed have made these months difficult for you two. 
and he hates knowing that you still wait till you’re alone to cry. 
that even though every time you do, he wipes away every tear and holds you to his chest until you fall asleep, you still feel most comfortable being sad alone.
that you’re probably already home now, about to bury your face in a pillow and sob until you hear his car and wipe your cheeks clean like nothing is wrong. 
but there’s a lot wrong. 
a lot wrong with how you’ve been treated and how hard it is to move past it. 
a lot wrong with the legal system that makes this painful journey even more exhausting, forcing you to recount memory after memory and answer question after question about the worst ordeals of your life. 
that’s why san can’t help but turn in his test and rush out the door to his car, speeding off campus and onto the highway in hot pursuit of your apartment above the bakery.
it had seemed like perfect little place to get you back on your feet, the smell of freshly baked bread and pleasant bustle of regulars greeting you in the early morning hours. 
there was no commute for you, just a walk down the stairs and through the yellow door of the bakery, where simple work waited for you. 
“you just need to ring up the customers and maybe clean a table or two. most people take their things to go,” your boss had told you, a divorced mother of three who spent most of her life baking before she was finally able to open up a place of her own. 
it was simple work but it was more than you’d done in years, something as little as small talk with regulars successfully draining you. filling you with a nervousness and fear that you’re still feeling even without your ex’s presence. 
but it’s in the way a man yells on the phone about a business deal going sour while waiting for his morning coffee. 
a woman chastising her kids saying that they won’t get to eat the cookies she’s buying after dinner. 
the slam of the door when a harsh gust of wind howls from outside and rattles the small bakery with light blue walls and pictures of bread and desserts.
you don’t know how many coffees you’ve spilt or plates you’ve broken from jumping at the harsh sounds, realizing little by little how hard this transition was gonna be. 
even with san and his friends and your boss and the crazy old lady who secured this new life for you in the first place, it’s still hard. 
you can’t even imagine doing all of these new things alone, just living in such a simple way that the average person takes for granted. 
but you suppose it’s not all simple yet, going back and forth between meetings with your lawyer and the police for the court date that’s rapidly approaching. 
you can feel that the closer it comes, the harder it is to breathe. 
the mere thought of seeing the man who hurt you for the longest five years of your life, sitting in front of you with not an ounce of remorse on his face. making  this process even harder because how are you supposed to talk in front of him? 
see clear as day that you’re not safe and you never will be. 
that he’s gonna get out in a year, because that’s the harshest sentence possible without you being hospitalized or dead, and hurt you again. he’s never gonna stop hurting you because he always said you were his and he wouldn’t ever hesitate to-
you don’t even hear the jingle of san’s keys opening the front door or his softly spoken call of your name. 
you’re only aware of his presence when you feel his warm, small hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing over your wet, salty skin as he mutters your name lowly.
“hey, i’m here, i’m here,” he mumbles sweetly, tone soft and gentle the way it always is no matter what the circumstances are.
he plops down on the couch before pulling you into his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back gently. you hear the quiet but firm “sh, sh, sh,” against your head, the sharp calming hums always in threes as an attempt to ground you.
you try to focus on his calming sounds and even breaths, the hand on your back so warm and gentle as he lulls your panicked body into a calmer state. 
you bury your face in his chest and breathe in his scent, cologne and detergent mixed with his natural scent that lingers on your pillow every morning. 
“i-i’m sorry.”
the words make his stomach plummet, tears burning his eyes because you never have anything to be sorry for. you never have anything to be sorry for and you say it all the time. 
when you bump into him in the kitchen while making food together.
when you sit on the remote and change the channel by accident.
when you burnt the cookies one night and made the fire alarm go off. 
he remembers that being one of the worse nights, the loud noises making you jump while also flinching away when he lifted his arm up to fan away the smoke. and then you immediately apologized again, cookies long forgotten before he grabbed your hand and led you into the living room. 
he just held your hand as you both watched tv, his thumb rubbing over your skin before you spoke words so quietly, he almost missed them. 
“i wish...i would stop doing that.”
he cranes his neck over to look at you, eyebrow raised and eyes soft as he looks  at you questioningly. 
he wants to tease and say that you’ve never burnt the cookies before but anytime you feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, he never wants to say the wrong thing.
“i...i know you would never hurt me,“ you continue after a few moments. “and i know i’m just...scared easily, i guess. but it makes me feel bad,” you admit quietly, heart pulling in your chest as you look at the man beside you. 
he has gotten you through the hardest times of your life, has been by your side every step of the way with no questions or complaints, and you haven’t been able to repay him. 
not even with a plate of fucking cookies. 
“you don’t have to feel bad, y/n,” san says gently, his hand reaching out slowly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. 
your eyes close at his feather light touch and the way it makes your heart jump, his fingers lingering on you in a way that makes you feel so safe and content. 
“and i know it’s hard to believe still but you have nothing to be scared of either. i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again and i mean that.”
“but i feel like i’m hurting you,” you mumble softly, pulling your knees up as you rest your head on the couch cushion. his brows pull together as his eyes roam your face, a pout on his lips the more he looks at you in silence.
“you’ve helped me so much and i just...” tears fill your eyes as you struggle to find the words and breathe. you’ve only been living in your new house for two months now and almost every day, san has been here. 
bringing you food, helping you clean and decorate, spending late nights with you watching movies, helping you through an inevitable fit of panic when your memories and life become too much. 
he makes it easier to breathe and you’re scared that without him, you’re gonna stop one day.
“i just keep... taking from you. you get nothing out of helping me but you still do it anyway and i...you shouldn’t even bother, san. i-i’m not worth this time and i just want you to-”
“stop.”
he tries to keep the anger out of his voice knowing that all of this is what you’ve been told. you’ve been told your whole life that you weren’t enough, were only deemed worthy by a piece of shit who did nothing but hurt and berate you. 
but it doesn’t make it any less hard to hear. to hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you truly believe you’re not worth the time he wants to put into you. 
“you’re worth the time to me,” he says, voice gentle but firm in a way that makes a lump form in your throat. his finger reaches out to trace small circles on your hand, your eyes following it so he doesn’t see the tears building up. 
“i like seeing you happy, y/n. and i wanna help you.”
your teary eyes meet his and you swallow the growing lump in your throat when you see the look on his face, soft and sweet in a way you still can’t believe is directed toward you. 
“i feel like i need a lot of help,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you think back to how day to day life is so challenging and draining. 
the loud voices and the screaming kids and banging door that sends you into a panic. the broken dishes and tear stains on your pillow that are there more often than not after san leaves every night. 
but san’s hearing each and every word right now, his heart panging in his chest at how vulnerable you are right now. how you let him see this side of you and continue to despite how hard he knows everything’s been. 
“that’s okay,” he smiles softly, stopping the circles on your hand to intertwine your fingers. “i’m gonna be here as long as you need me, okay?”
you look up to meet his gaze and feel a tear slip down your cheek, a cry bubbling in your throat that you so desperately wanna let out. 
but you also don’t wanna make san any more sad tonight, biting down on your lip as you nod your head before leaning on his shoulder. 
you don’t see the smile that crosses his face or hear the content sigh that leaves him, his hand in yours and presence enough to lull you into a dreamless sleep. 
“you have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you quietly, looking over your face as he wipes at your cheeks. you meet his gaze and your eyes stay locked on one another, his thumb gentle and soft across your skin.
“did you do good on your test?” you squeak out after a few moments of silence, a smile breaking out across his face. 
“of course i did, we studied all night, didn’t we?” he teases, referring to just last night when you helped him with index cards and read them all to him twice before promptly passing out on his chest. 
a blush crosses your face as you look down in embarrassment, a sweet high pitched laugh bubbling out of him. 
“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. your drool only ruined a few of them.”
“i don’t drool,” you mutter, a small smile on san’s face as he tightens his hold on you in his lap. 
“did you eat yet?” 
you shake your head as indistinguishable mumble leaves your mouth, curling yourself into his chest more as his warmth and comforting scent envelop you. 
his lips brush against your hair in a small smile, quietly asking what you wanna eat even though he knows you’re gonna say you don’t care. 
“whatever you want,” you mutter against him, the exhaustion of waking up at 5 am and the draining meeting with your lawyer catching up to you. 
and san knows on days like these that chinese food and watching reruns of old cartoons is usually the thing you need to feel a little bit better. 
pretend that just for a few hours, everything is okay and there’s nothing more pressing than spending the night together in what always turns into having a sleepover. 
because just as you found it difficult to live in that house you once shared with jungkook, san finds it difficult to go back to that block every night. 
stay just a few houses away from where he’s reminded of how you were treated while he was just a few feet away.
watching as the backyard once full of flowers becomes dull and colorless and every window reminds him of what was truly going on behind the walls of that house.
it’s one of the reasons why staying with you just makes sense. that and the fact that leaving you always proves to be the hardest part of the night together. 
you with a pout and sad eyes quietly whining for him to stay and him being completely powerless as he throws himself down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist. 
he’s not surprised when the same thing happens tonight, your eyes drooping and body slacking against him before he quietly asks if he should get going. you look up at him tiredly, eyebrows pulled together and one cheek red from you leaning on his chest in a way that makes him hold back a smirk.
“no,” you say quietly, your eyes roaming his face before you quickly realize he might want to leave you. the thought rips a pang of hurt through your chest but you can’t help but feel that might be the case. 
you ripped him away from his test and cried on him all night. why would he wanna stay with you? 
“unless you want to. i-i don’t wanna force you to stay here if you don’t-”
“of course i want to,” san responds, taking your face in his hands gently and allowing his thumb to run along your soft skin. “i was just checking.” 
because he also never wants to overstep. make you feel too overwhelmed or smothered since if it were up to him, he’d never leave your side again. 
his words and touch send relief through you, the panic and fear that attempted to break through quickly dying it. everything about him makes it so easy to be calm and comforted, a smile making it’s way on your face as you nod. 
you place your head back on his chest, sighing contently when you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder a few moments later. you stare at the tv blankly, not sure how long you’re lost in thought about the conversation at the lawyer’s office. 
“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”
could you really do that though? strip yourself to the most vulnerable degree and proclaim to a courtroom full of people how weak and defenseless you were for five years? how the man who’s gonna be seated just a few feet away over you had that much power over you? 
would you feel better looking jungkook in the face and telling him that you’re gonna be strong and come out okay? that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore and will rot behind a cell for what he’s done?
or would you it make you feel worse? seeing him again and the blankness behind his eyes. the pity and sorrowful looks on the judge and court officers when your voice shakes and eyes brim with tears as you recall your old life.
you’re not even sure if san is awake at this point, his arm heavy around you and breaths even under your head but you can’t seem to stop your tired self from speaking.
“my lawyer suggested i make a personal statement.”
san doesn’t stutter under you, the only sign of him being awake when he hums lowly and gently pulls away from you. the bed dips next to you when he lays on his side, your eyes meeting just as he reaches out to smooth out a messy strand of hair.
“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, his soft eyes roaming your face. “how do you feel about that?” 
the question, despite the serious tension in leaves in the air, makes you smile softly, remembering when your lawyer recommended counseling, you thought back to san waiting in the car and felt as if you already had all the support you needed. 
he has the most patience and kindness of anyone you’ve ever met before and you can’t imagine trusting someone as much as trust him. have someone else hear you this vulnerable and genuine, see you cry and feel all the emotions that come with rebuilding your life after being a victim of domestic violence. 
“i don’t know if i can do it.”
the words make san frown, holding himself up on his elbow as he looks over your face with concern. he can tell you’re tired, eyes hazy and drooping but he also can tell your mind’s been preoccupied. 
more so than usual. 
“i...i don’t know if i could do it with him there.”
“he’s not gonna hurt you anymore,” san reminds you gently, his hand creeping down in between your bodies to take ahold of yours. it’s soft and small and warm and everything about it makes you feel safe. 
“i-i know. but...just him being there. watching me and hearing me say what he’s done when i know he has no remorse. and then telling more people how i let it go on for so long and-”
“you didn’t let anything go on for too long. it wasn’t your fault. y/n.”
tears burn your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, hearing those words from almost everyone in your life but still not having the ability to grasp it. 
it feels like your fault, it feels like you’ve allowed yourself to be treated in a way you knew was wrong for far too long. 
because now look at you. trying to rebuild your life but being panicked when the wind howls just a little too loudly outside. 
you take a few deep calming breaks and swallow as you look at him, eyes hazy and glossy and threatening to close shut; you’re so tired but it’s like your brain never stops going these days. 
“she said...it’d guarantee the harshest sentence. but shouldn’t the evidence be enough? the tapes and the witnesses? why- why do i have to keep going through this?” you whisper, voice shaky and tears building as you look at him. the sight alone makes san stomach sink, rolling his tongue between his lips anxiously. 
“i just want it to be over. i don’t wanna keep recounting what happened over and over and over again. i... it’s so hard, san. it’s so hard and i feel like i can’t do it anym-” 
your words break off as a quiet whimper leaves your mouth, crumbling against san’s body when he pulls you forward and wraps his arms around you. your head falls in the crook of his neck as his hand rests on the back of your head, breathing slowly and evenly as quiet hums leave his mouth. 
“I know, baby,” san mumbles, his lips against your head as he presses a kiss to your hair. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay? no one can make you do anything.”
"you're hurting me, jungkook," your broken voice tells him, the cracks and pain behind it familiar to even your own ears.
you don't know how many times you've heard yourself like this. so desperate and defeated.
"i wish i didn't have to, babydoll," he says lowly, "but you never listen. you make me do this."
and you don’t even think about if you’re gonna regret it at the time. not use your own voice and speak up in front of the courtroom about what the man on trial did. 
you can only think about his eyes watching you, your friends hearing your voice quiver and shake, the judge maybe not taking your words into account. it all seems too much right now, the crushing weight of anxiety and fear that’s making you feel too weak to do that. 
“you made it this far. and it’s almost all over, okay?” san reassures, his hand stroking your hair as he tries to calm your cries. “if you wanna do it, i’ll be right there next to you. we’ll all be there for you and you’ll be safe the whole time. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. you don’t have to and everything will still be okay.”
and because it’s like the blonde just knows everything when it comes to you, everything is okay - or as okay as things can be under these circumstances. 
your lawyer didn’t bat an eye when you told her you weren’t sure if you could do a personal statement, her hand on your shoulder as she gently tells you that it’s okay. that the harshest sentence would probably still be given, considering the unusual amount of evidence in a case like this. 
you watched jungkook get taken out of court with a one year sentence, thrashing in handcuffs and cursing at you while you gripped san’s hand tightly. 
you had foolishly thought watching that was gonna somehow heal you immediately. 
no longer make you afraid or flinch at the smallest of sounds or movements, make you feel like now you can take san’s words to heart and feel worthy of the love he showered you with. 
but it was with that love, you started to grow too dependent. let it consume you in a whole new way that made you feel like without san, you couldn’t breathe. 
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at first, he didn’t know what had triggered the episodes that followed three months after the trial. 
it had seemed as if you were making a lot of progress over the past few months, truly happy and smiley without an ounce of fear in your eyes that had always seemed to linger. 
you were working hard at the bakery, becoming closer with the regulars and even finding it easier to talk with them. they found you comforting and sweet, always greeting them with a warm smile and remembering how many sugars they got with their morning coffee. 
the same warm smile you gave san when he told you he was visiting his parents for his mom’s birthday one weekend, sending him off with a loaf of bread and an array of cookies. 
“don’t eat them all,” you teased lightly, side-eyeing mingi who was one of your many regulars and could also take your advice as he shovels rainbow cookies in his mouth. 
“i won’t,” san smiles gently, looking in mingi’s direction and holding back a laugh upon seeing the boy. 
he was probably the next closest person you came to trust since you all got to know each other, a soft spot for him ever since the moment he deemed sunflowers ‘sunnies’ during the darker times. 
mingi was the happiness and innocence you think you must have had once. finding the good in everything and being happy just because the sun was out and dessert was on the table. 
“and neither should you,” san chastises the younger boy, smacking him in the back of the head lightly. you smile softly at the exchange, holding back a snort as you clean off the table next to the bickering boys. 
the arm around your waist a few moments later would’ve startled you had you not smelt san’s cologne, leaning into him and feeling grateful you’re the only three in the store right now. 
you look over your shoulder and smile softly at him, heart stuttering at the look on his face. eyes full of such concern, you should know he’s about to ask you if you’re-
“are you gonna be okay tonight?” 
he wasn’t ignorant of the fact, the same way you weren’t, that this is gonna be one the first nights you’ve spent alone in months. 
not falling asleep to the gentle lull of his breathing or his arms around your waist. no one to be there if you wake up from a nightmare, where memories torment your body as you hear the shouts of your ex and feel as if your body is still being bruised.
san not being there to wake you with a gentle peck on the cheek before dragging you back to the warm bed when you try to get up for work. 
but you have to be okay, right? you’ve been doing so good these past few weeks. and you’re an adult the same way he’s an adult, it’s ridiculous to think you guys would have to spend every night together. 
“of course, silly” you poke him gently, smiling when his dimples poke out of his cheeks. “have fun with your parents. don’t worry about me.”
“i always worry about you,” he mumbles lowly, his lips ghosting over your hair as you push his chest lightly. he bites back a smile when he sees the blush on your cheeks, pulling away from him immediately so you can stick your tongue out at him. 
and that night, it actually feels as if you’re okay. 
you busy yourself by cleaning and cooking before passing out to the vampire diaries. your sleep is dreamless and calm, waking up to a good morning message from san consisting of a bare-faced, messy-haired selfie. 
but a few days after his return is when he began to notice the little changes. 
behaviors he thinks you weren’t even aware of that made his heart sink into his stomach; it reminded him so much of the first few weeks you were away from jungkook. 
how despite the fear in your eyes, you clung to him because you knew he’d never hurt you. felt safe in his presence and sought him out when you were feeling uncomfortable or upset. 
and he sees you’re back to the place right now, so obviously uneasy and upset despite the major progress you’ve been making. 
it was like the second he came through the door, you had to be by his side. leaning your head on his shoulder as you watched your shows or grabbing his hand when he got up to go to the bathroom. 
at first, he thought it was cute - your clinginess and obvious affection toward him. he thought it was sweet and it made him so happy, smiling softly and kissing the top of your head as he told you he’d be back in a minute.
but the more the weeks went on, the worse it was seeming to get. 
you asking him after only a few hours of him at school when he was gonna be back. nightmares and bad memories haunting you when you’d fall asleep for naps in between your shift ending and his last class. 
“baby... are you sure you’re okay these days?” 
the words cause you to stop stirring the pasta in the pot, craning your neck to where san is sitting on the countertop. 
he meets your gaze with a soft smile and extends his hand out to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose before pulling you up.
you squeal at the sensation, giggling quietly because there you two are just perched on the counter like two cats and no regard for the boiling pot of food beside you. 
you giggle again when he places a kiss to your neck, tightening his hold around your waist.
he relishes in the sound of your laugh because it also seems like these days, he’s hasn’t heard it that much. 
“i feel like i haven’t heard that in a while,” he mumbles against your neck, his lips lingering on your skin. he never wants to say the wrong thing with you or make you feel like you’re not doing good enough. 
you pull back and look at him with a small pout, your fingers toying at the end of his shirt nervously. 
“i...i’m okay though,” you tell him quietly, thinking it’s the truth even though you have felt off these days. 
you didn’t know what it was though honestly. it’s felt like ever since san came back from his parents, you’ve needed him extra. clingy and needy and annoying in the sense that the poor man can’t even go away without you needing him. 
and now he seems to know it, too. 
maybe he doesn’t wanna do this anymore. maybe he didn’t sign up for months of you going back and forth, feeling great and confident one week and then back to being clingy and scared the next. 
because you know it’s only a matter of time before two things happens: he gets sick of you and leaves or starts resenting you. doesn’t wanna waste his time with a battered woman when he could be wth fun and carefree college girls. 
“have i been annoying?” 
your blurted out question throws him off as much as it breaks his heart, immediately shaking his head as he cups your cheeks. 
his lips fall into a pout and your eyes immediately fall to them, about to comment on it before he places a sweet, short peck on yours.
you two, despite your close and intimate relationship full of skin-ship, don’t kiss a lot. you can only count of one hand how many times san has kissed you on the lips, most of the time going for your cheek or head.
but you certainly don’t mind. 
you think it’s good to take it slow, since everything else about your relationship is so intense. that’s why the times he does kiss you, you get filled with such a happy warm feeling that usually makes you feel better no matter what. 
that’s how you know you’re not right. that suddenly, for some reason, you’re not okay again despite being so incredibly lucky that the people in you life now care about you. 
they’re trying so hard to help you and it feels like you can’t repay them in any way.
“no, no, baby, not at all,” san says when he pulls back, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. “i’m just concerned.”
the lump in your throat makes it feel like you can’t breathe, biting your lip harshly as you look up at the blonde. 
“i love that you want me around,” he continues softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you. “but i’m just...i also wanna make sure you’re okay.”
you nod your head as you take in his words, slightly calmed by them despite the way your mind is trying to tell you otherwise. 
he loves that you want him around, he just said so. and he wouldn’t put up with you if he didn’t want to, right?
“i’m okay,” you assure sweetly, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. “i guess i just missed you.”
your cheeks flush at the soft, almost touched look that crosses san’s face, his lips falling into a pout as he tightens his hold on you.
“i missed you too.”
boiling liquid splashing onto the stove causes you both to look away, a squeal leaving your mouth as the foamy water overflows the pot. 
“shit!” you squeal, jumping down from the counter to rush over and lower the heat. san watches from his spot with a small smile, chuckling lightly when you throw him a look.
“sorry,” he says sheepishly, a playful roll of your eyes causing him to jump down and hug you from behind.
he presses small kisses and laughs into the crook of your neck as you finish making the pasta, feeding him pieces from the pot to see if it’s cooked enough. 
you eat on the couch and spend the rest of the night watching tv, a relatively calm and relaxed night that makes you feel much better than the past few days. 
you think you just got so used to his presence, the comfort and warmth and light he provides by just being in your apartment and smiling at you. 
you were scared by how attached you’d grown to him, depending on him in a way you think a person who has gone through what you’ve gone through shouldn’t.
but he’s so good and makes you feel loved. it’s such a different feeling than one you’ve ever experienced, after your family and friends and ex-boyfriend let you down time and time again. 
you’ve never had someone like this before but you’ve also never tried to rebuild your life before. never had the chance to be your own person and make your own decisions - it’s something you’re still learning and that’s evident to everyone in your life. 
but the next morning, a pleasant surprise in the form of mrs. kim comes bursting through the door and immediately lights your face with a smile; apart from san and mingi, she’s another person you’ve grown extremely close and fond of. 
she’s the one who made everything possible, rebuilding your life with a new home and workplace. it’s why she always tries to push you further out of your comfort zone and into the real world with gentle prodding and much needed assurance. 
she’s at the bakery for almost two hours before she pulls up a chair behind the register and gets that look in her eye you know all too well. it’s the look she gave you the day you accepted the apartment, insisting you take it and make it your own and to not even think about how to pay her back. 
the look she gave you before the trial as she gave you strength, told you that you were strong and you were gonna get through this, with or without your personal statement. 
and apparently it’s the look she gives you when she broaches the topic of you enrolling back in school. 
“so what do you think?” she asks, tone carefree and excited like she’d been thinking about this for weeks. “is that something you’d wanna do?” 
your immediate thought is yes. yes, yes, yes shout it from the rooftops yes. you miss school and learning and all the experiences that come with getting an education. 
you once loved school and had so many aspirations but then your life apart. the prospect of an education or getting a job was dangled in your face as some sort of manipulation tactic.
that when jungkook went too far and left you especially bloody and bruised, he’d mentioned school like it was the answer to all of your problems as a couple. like that was his penance and would win him boyfriend of the year.
and mrs. kim must see the haunted look in your eye, replaying flashbacks and memories from how choices like that weren’t under your control for the longest time. 
“listen to me, stop staying in there,” she says, flicking at your head and making you wince. “is that something you wanna do? yes or no?” 
“yes but i-”
“but nothing,” the old lady says, wiping out an ipad the boys had been teaching her how to use for the past few weeks; the font is the biggest size you’ve ever seen and has a cat case on that almost makes you burst out laughing upon seeing.
“i was looking at the local school, it’s close and cheap but you could always get some financial aid, scholarships or even a loan,” she begins to tell you, eyes squinted and a wrinkle between her browns as she taps on the screen. “this shit is so hard, i’m still trying to learn. oh, great here it is, okay. look, they even have this major.”
you had mentioned once that you thought about a career in journalism to her, one night when you and her were making cookies in her house as the boys tended to her garden (because they were gardeners now, official, professional gardeners who only know how to plant sunflowers). 
tears almost immediately fill in your eyes as you follow her pruny finger, licking over your lips so you don’t start sobbing. 
she looks up at you after a few moments of silence and it’s promptly followed by her smacking your arm, a scoff leaving her mouth that makes you giggle. 
“what are you crying about?” 
the emotion clogged in your throat makes it hard to speak, attempting to talk through the strange contrast of tears and laughter bubbling in your throat. 
“i just... i can’t believe you remember i told you that. it was so long ago.”
“what? you think because i’m old i don’t remember shit? i’m not a senile, y/n, jesus.” 
a wet giggle leaves your mouth as you listen to her talk about the research she’s done, about how to pay and when you can start and her son’s experience at the local college. 
it all makes you feel very hopeful, excited even, as you think about what once seemed impossible. 
getting out in the world and pursuing a passion you as an individual had. making connections and just conversing with different people and seeing relationships form. 
but all of those doubts and fears instilled in you don’t just go away.
you remember months back when you told san you were writing again, he was the one who recommended going back to school. 
was so happy about it that his eyes were shining and dimples were out and you’d never seen someone more handsome.
but now that you guys are...kind of together, would his mind change? does he not want you talking to other people either now? will he think it’s silly or pointless, since you already have you job at the bakery? 
you know deep down that that’s not the kind of person san is. you knew from the moment you met him and risked talking and smiling and laughing with him that he was good.
but that part of you still scared and broken from what you went through, the prospect of school and freedom dangled in your face as some sort of reward or apology, is scared he won’t approve.
and whether it’s unhealthy or not, all you want is san’s approval. 
“c-can i ask you something?” you ask him later that night, both of you cuddled up on the couch.
a blanket’s thrown over your lap with san’s arm around your shoulder, your head now off his chest as you look up at him questioningly. 
he immediately looks down at you with a soft, curious expression, running his hand through your hair as a small smile makes it’s way on his face. 
“anything,” he hums lowly, already making your nervous body feel slightly more calm. 
you have to try and always remember this is the boy who’s been by your side for months, with no complaints. who saved you from your life before this and only wants you to be safe and happy. 
“i was talking to miss kim earlier today...” you begin, his interest already peeked because he thinks he might know where this is going; he was suspicious ever since the older woman asked him how to make the font larger on her ipad. 
he sees the slight apprehension and fear in your eyes so he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin gently and giving you a small, encouraging nod. 
you take a deep breath and try to shake the worry off, opening and closing your mouth before deciding to spit it out. 
“we...were talking about me going back to school. and i...kind of thought that would be something good for me to do. i used to love school and learning and mrs kim. said there’s a lot of things i could do to pay for it and stuff, if i needed to...” 
his chest hurts slightly watching you stammer over your words nervously, your eyes moving from him to the wall as you start to unconsciously hold his hand tighter. 
“but if you don’t want me to or think it’s a stupid idea, i won’t. i just...wanted to make sure it was okay with you.” 
you don’t see the way san sits there in contemplation as you’re too nervous and toying with the edge of the blanket, his face sympathetic but also a little surprised. 
there’s a lot of things that san is still getting used to, the way you’re so vulnerable and attached to him (in a way he doesn’t mind at all). 
but it’s like right now he’s seeing the severity of it, watching as a grown woman asks for his permission for something she absolutely doesn’t.
it makes tears burn the back of his eyes but he quickly pushes the sensation and desire away, his hand lifting your chin so you made his gaze head-on. 
“y/n...you don’t need my permission to do anything. you... you know that, right?”
your eyebrows pull together almost in confusion that he didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, head cocked to that side as you lick over your lips nervously. 
he can’t help but think if this was a fault on his part. did he make you feel like you have to ask his permission or approval for things? did he maybe at any point make you feel scared or judged when he’s been doing his best to avoid that?
your harsh grip on his hand brings him back to the conclusion that, right now, this isn’t about him. 
whether he did that or not, he has to make sure right now that you know you’re your own person and don’t need to run decisions by him or anyone else. 
“baby, i think it’s great you wanna do that and will support whatever you wanna do. but you don’t have to ask for...my permission to do anything,” san tells you softly, his hand cupping your face as he presses a kiss to your head; the words ‘his permission’ even feel gross on his tongue.
“i’m happy if you’re happy. and if going to school will make you happy, i’m gonna be supportive 100%. you got it, love?” 
you don’t even know why you’re surprised by san’s reaction but it still brings tears to your eyes, only being able to nod before you bury your face in his chest. 
he bites back a smile at the feel of you against him, running his hand up your back to gently rest in your hair. 
“you still wanna study journalism?” he mumbles against your hair and again, you can only nod so you don’t let out the whimper threatening to leave you mouth.
because it still shocks you day after day that everyone in your life now truly seems to care. 
they remember things about you and want to see you smile, always remind you that you can do whatever you want and are slowly making you see that, maybe, you will be okay in the end. 
it may not seem like a lot to someone who’s been lucky enough to have these things but, for you, it’s something you haven’t ever had before.
the ability to giggle and smile and spend your night with someone who you can see really, truly loves you. who wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and always has your best interests in mind.
that’s exactly why when you fall asleep, san can’t help but turn to look at your sleeping form. he runs his hand through your messy hair, moving a strand from your face and feeling his heart lurch at how peaceful and innocent you look. 
he still can’t get the thoughts out of his heads from earlier, wondering if, maybe, this whole time, he hasn’t been doing the right thing. 
maybe these past few months, you should’ve been rebuilding your life on your own. he shouldn’t have been here every, single step of the way to sooth and coddle and protect you. 
it was something hongjoong said just a few weeks after you moved in and he nearly attacked the boy, asking how he could let you cry alone every night and feel lonely and scared in a new place?
but he also knows that hongjoong is more logical than him. he’s always let his emotions get to him, empathetic and caring almost to a fault. 
and with you, he was always even more clouded. 
now, though, he’s seeing that maybe hongjoong has a point. he’s seen it in the way you’ve become more clingy and dependent on him, something he loves and makes him feel warm but also knows, for you, is a part of feeling safe. 
and as hard as it is for him to admit, he knows you need to feel safe without him. slowly rebuild your own sense of self and security without him always being there to wipe your tears or kiss your face. 
but how is supposed to do that? he thinks, watching your sleeping face with a pained chest and burning eyes.
he’s about to get up to get a glass of water before he hears you whine, both his feet not even on the floor before even in your unconscious you can sense his departure. 
“going to get water, love, i’ll be right back,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing the side of your head when you still and roll back over. 
he gulps down the cool liquid before resting his head on the cold fridge, letting out a sigh as he realizes he may need to have another discussion with hongjoong.
even more so when he goes back into the room and sees your face, the slightest hint of discomfort in your pinched eyebrows and frowning lips. 
you turn back over when he crawls in the bed again, your head on his chest and arm wrapping around his stomach. 
he smiles upon hearing your sleepy voice call his name, dazed eyes staring up at him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 
“hi, baby. i’m back.” 
“i love you.”
the confession make his eyes widen and heart speed up, shocked into silence at those three, sudden words. 
because while it’s obvious that’s how you both feel for each other, your sweet touches and words exchanged since the moment you met one another, you two haven’t ever uttered that sentence. 
never put it out in the open and really discussed your feelings for one another. 
but your eyes are shut and breaths turn even before you can even hear his softly spoken, “i love you,” in return. 
and it’s because he loves you that he tells hongjoong about the thoughts he’s been having, wondering if he’s been doing the wrong thing the whole time and just making this transition harder for you. 
“i think you’re trying to make it easier because you love her and don’t wanna see her hurt anymore.” 
san’s eyes meet hongjoong’s across the dining room table at their house, a house san hasn’t slept or eaten at basically since you moved out; everyone knew where he was and they understood it completely but they also missed their friend’s presence. 
“but...she does need to learn to be on her own, san. she’s never done that before and she’s always been dependent on someone. luckily you’re just...so fucking good that it wouldn’t be a problem. but even with her asking you if she could go to school...she’s not okay, yet, san. she needs to sort her shit out.”
“i don’t want her to be alone,” the blonde admits, voice tight and eyes threatening to water. “i don’t want her to think i’m leaving her.”
“you’re not leaving her alone. you’re just not gonna be attached at the hip 24/7. it’s normal for couples to be apart. you still live and pay rent here, you know. everyone misses you.”
the sound of bickering and plates crashing promptly comes from the kitchen, mingi’s harsh yelp of wooyoung’s name causing a commotion of bickering to break out. 
hongjoong looks at san with a half pained, half amused expression, knowing that the dimpled boy  will have to readjust to how loud and chaotic the house is all the time. 
“you don’t have to do right now,” hongjoong says, wanting to finish the discussion before the boys notice san is here and lost their shit. “ease her into it. talk to her about it. see if she feels the same way. but let her know you just wanna help her, because i know you do, right?” 
san’s nod is immediate and hongjoong mirrors him, his eyes quickly widening as he looks over the blonde’s broad shoulder. 
he doesn’t even get to turn around before a slew of bodies bump into him, nearly knocking him onto the floor as six large, excited boys are jumping and squealing around him.
“san! you’re finally home!”
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you’re nearly two months into your first semester of college by the time you’ve fully adjusted to your new schedule and pace of life.
classes monday, tuesday and thursdays mornings followed by your shift at the cafe during the afternoons. you miss your early morning regulars dearly and don’t know what to do with the 10+ memorized coffee orders still in your brain but you already love school so much. 
you love learning and talking with your professors and meeting the many different people on campus. you’ve even found a small group of friends, two girls who sat next to you and immediately started up a conversation with you.
you were terffied and shy at first but eventually opened up, giggling and sharing your thoughts with them before class started - you even always made sure to be 10 minutes early so you could get in your chats with them. 
unsurprisingly, san had been nothing but happy and supportive for the entire journey. helping you apply and become familiar with the campus while also assuring you everything was gonna work out. 
your days were busy and packed with work and you truly loved it but night was still your favorite. when san would walk through the door with take out or you’d be greeted with the sight of him waiting for you on the couch. 
it really felt as if your life was finally coming together, happy and at peace in a way you never felt before. it was like you finally had some sort of control over what happened to you, long gone the feeling of knots in your stomach or an uncontrollable shake in your hands. 
but when you notice san is a little more quiet than usual today, you feel that foreign feeling make it’s way back into your body. 
“is...everything okay?” you finally grow the confidence to ask, his hand absentmindley rubbing your leg that’s sprawled out on his lap. 
you can tell the question throws him off by the way he snaps his head up to look at you, brows pulled together and his head cocked cutely to the side as his eyes roam your face. 
“’course love, why do you ask?”
“i don’t know,” you hum softly, leaning the side of your head on the couch as you look at him. “i feel like you’re quiet today.”
“just thinking baby,” he tells you, tightening his hold on your leg before looking your way. “how were classes today?”
“good, i have to start my essay soon,” you tell him, something uneasy still pulling at your stomach; you’re not used to san being quiet or so lost in thought, usually the only time he’s silent is during a new episode of your shows.
“you’ll do great on it,” he says encouragingly, the hand on your leg gently calmingly rubbing your skin up and down. “you’re doing really good, you know that?” 
happiness fills you at the thought of making san proud, a small smile on your face that causes one his own to cross his face. his dimples poke out and it reminds you so much of your first meeting, when the sun reflected off of him and you just knew there was something too pure and good about this man.
“thank you,” you smile softly, a faint blush on your cheeks that has san’s heart breaking in his chest even more.
he doesn’t wanna have this conversation tonight but he thinks it would be the best time. bring up maybe not staying over every night to create some more space for you while also allowing you to be more independent. learning how to fill your time with things other than him.
but you’re so happy tonight. 
you’ve been so happy these past few months and he doesn’t wanna be the person to ruin that; it seems, though, you can see something behind his eyes and in his demeanor already, your body wiggling closer to him as your gaze shifts nervously. 
“are you sure you’re okay?” 
he lets out a sigh and you can’t help the way your stomach drops, watching carefully as his face turns contemplative and torn. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if you’re gonna be able to handle it. 
and that alone is scaring the shit out of you. 
the silence is probably only fifteen seconds but it feels like hours, your eyes staring wide and heart starting to race as you look at him; you don’t know what you did but you had to have done something, right? he wouldn’t just act like this out of nowhere. 
“did i...do something wrong?” you ask meekly, that feeling of fear and panic you haven’t felt in almost a year creeping back. you almost forgot how debilitating this feeling is, fully consuming your body until you feel like you’re about to completely breakdown and crumble. 
the fear and concern on your face immediately makes him frown, shaking his head adamantly as he pulls you closer to him. 
“no, no, no, y/n, of course not,” he assures softly, his lips brushing against your head. 
you feel his calming breaths in your hair, like he already knows from the slight waver in your voice and look on your face that you’re getting worked up and anxious. 
the few moments of silence should make you more anxious but you can only focus on his breathing and the warmth from his body against you, trying to stay calm as you remember that this is san and he would never do or say anything to hurt you. 
“i’ve just been thinking about some things and i wanna talk to you about it,” san says, breaking the silence and immediately making your stomach flip nervously. “it’s nothing bad, baby, i just... you know i always have your best interest in mind, right?”
you swallow the lump growing in your throat as you turn to look at him, the soft look in his eye making you happy as much as it makes you sad. 
because while you love seeing it, how sweet and thoughtful and truly kind he is, you know it’s also there because he thinks you’re about to lose your shit. and you haven’t lost your shit in quite some time. 
“i-i know...” 
he takes your face in his hands when your eyes start to wander, the quiet hum leaving his mouth making you look up at him again. the look in his eyes truly stirs something in you, tears burning your eyes even though you’re not even sure why yet. 
“and you know i’ll never, ever hurt you?”
you nod again, feeling panic deep within your chest at where this conversation seems to be going.
“so what i’m about to suggest, i need you to hear me out, okay?”
he waits until you nod, his stomach sinking at the glossed over look in your eyes before he daringly opens his mouth again. 
tells you that he thinks you living on your own while you start a new chapter of your life will be a good thing for you both. that learning to be independent and on your own will help you immensely in this new part of your life. 
“you’ve been doing so good, y/n, and i’m so proud of you. you’ve started school and you work full time and you’re doing all the things you want to do. but we’re together all the time, baby, and i...i don’t know if that’s healthy, for either of us, you know?”
and you think to the average person, who hasn’t been abused and neglected and spent the last five years in normal, healthy circumstances, they would hear this and understand immediately. 
that being alone and learning how to be on your own is a good, healthy thing that everyone needs to experience. 
but all your brain can hear is he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore. 
he’s tired of your brokenness and tired of looking after you all the time and needs some space from you; and while, you suppose, you can’t blame him, it doesn’t hurt you any less. 
it doesn’t terrify you or upset you any less, even though you know his intentions are good; you can only feel unwanted and unworthy and like your time with someone so much better than you is up. 
“is it...i just...do you not like it here? with me?”
did you not keep it clean enough? did you not cook enough, were the meals too frequently takeout and leftovers? you remember jungkook hated that, demanding the house be spotless and dinner be ready and homemade. 
san would laugh at the question if this weren’t the current situation, a serious talk he’s been dreading having because he knows how you’re gonna take it at first. 
but he loves being here and that’s the problem. 
he would coddle you and love you and protect you for as long as you let him if it were up to him. but he knows that’s not what you need anymore, that you’re both not helping anyone if you continue to live your life in what became too comfortable and safe. 
you deserve comfortable and safe but you also deserve to live happily and freely by yourself. and maybe that’s not his decision to make, he often thinks, but he certainly doesn’t think he’s helping you by enabling you to depend on him. 
“baby, i love it here and i love you and i’ll never leave you until you tell me to,” san says, pressing a kiss to each cheek he prays tears don’t fall on in the next few minutes. “but i want you to be okay, love. i don’t want you to need me every night to sleep or think you need to ask my permission for things that are your choice.”
“is that- is that what this is about? that i asked you if i could go to school?” you ask meekly, the idea of talking back foreign but something you can’t control right now. “or is it because i’m in school?”
because maybe you’ve been too busy. maybe he feels like you neglected him. maybe he just wanted an out and this is it. 
“of course it’s not because you’re in school,” san says, slight outrage in his voice as you even suggest that; he always tries to control his responses to you, knowing you’re dealing with years worth of manipulative behavior and maltreatment, but sometimes it does also get to him. 
he was always supportive of your career and education, even when you were just friends and he admired you from afar.
“how could you think that?”
“because this is so random,” you squeak out, tears breaking through as the knot in your throat grows bigger. “i...i didn’t even know you were feeling this way and now you wanna stop seeing me.”
“i don’t wanna stop seeing you, y/n, when did i say that?” san asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you contemplatively. 
“you said you don’t want to be together all the time...” you mutter out, feeling stupid and childish but not yet truly understanding what he means. you guys don’t fight at all and you’re always smiling and laughing together - isn’t it okay to be together all the time if good things like that are happening?
“y/n, i love you, of course i wanna still see you. but i just mean...living together the way we have these past months. you’ve never been alone. you’ve always depended on someone, right?” 
you think back to your dysfunctional childhood, depending on alcoholic parents who never taught you how to fend for yourself until you fell into the arms of yet another abuser who you depended on even further.
restricted company and meals and communication, even restricted in what you could do outside the walls of your house. 
“yes,” you nod, sniffling as you wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “but they’ve only ever hurt me. you never do.”
that fact makes san’s chest pang with hurt, his own eyes burning with tears now as he thinks about how much pain you’ve endured. 
“i know, baby, and i never will. but i think this’ll be good for us. good for you, mostly, that’s always my mian concern.” 
but you start to wonder how this could possibly be good the second the front door closes a few hours later, leaving you alone in your apartment that now feels far too cold and far too dark and far too empty. 
his lack of presence is noticable immediately and it doesn’t take long for panic and sadness and all that existential dread you once felt so deeply start to come on.
he doesn’t want you, nobody wants you, and the only people who did want you hurt you. 
it’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you cry silently, splashing your face with cold water after your puffy eyes can’t take it anymore. and when you get a good look at yourself in the mirror, tear-stained and blotchy and a big fucking mess, you can’t help but see that same girl who was trapped in that house with jungkook.
weak and afraid and horribly incapable of doing anything right. so similiar to the current state you’re in now, sinking down on the bathroom floor and crying into your hands again. 
this could be about san leaving, you know it has something to do with it, but you’re also crying because you now see just how badly you’re still effected by everything. 
you could be distracted by school and work and san but there’s still so much under the surface that you haven’t come to terms with. 
so much so to the point that even san had to step in and do something about it, him still seeing signs that you’re not okay despite how much everyone in your life is trying with you.
and it makes you feel bad that you have so many supportive, lovely people in your life but still can’t find it in you to feel okay. to not depend on one singlar blonde man to make you feel happy or act as if without him, you’re gonna break.
because you can see he’s tired of it. if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have-
“y/n?” 
his voice coupled with his fist hitting the door causes you to jump, at first thinking it’s a bittersweet trick your deluded little mind is playing on you. but then he knocks again, his sweet murmur of “y/n, please open the door,” causing you to cry out again.
hongjoong told him not to go, that he’d barely been home for an hour before he was already itching to rush back to you. 
but he felt uneasy leaving the way he did in the first place, and then even more so when you didn’t answer his three messages and two facetime calls; he hated thinking that you were crying alone or feeling upset. 
and it’s heartbreakingly evident when you reach up to open the door, curled up on the floor in tears, that that’s exactly how you feel. 
“baby, no,” san hums lowly, immediately dropping to the floor so he can gather you in his lap.
it’s so much like the scene when you ran there after the final incident with jungkook, when you collapsed on the floor and finally told somebody about what you’d been going through. 
what happened?" he asks desperately, voice strained and wavering.
but you can only shake your head and cry. cry for how long you've been dealing with this alone and how you feel trapped and how if you don't tell someone tonight.
"he's gonna kill me," you sob out as you shake your head frantically now, "i-i he's gonna kill me," is all you can repeat through ragged breaths.
san can only act on instinct, sitting down cross-legged and holding his arms out slightly before you crash into him. he shakily inhales when your head rests on his shoulder, sobs muffled by his shirt as he feels tears promptly soak through the material.
but he can only sit there, hand on the back of your head as he rocks you soothingly in his lap back and forth.
he listens to your sobs with a broken heart, tears stinging his own eyes because he had suspected something was going on for months and just sat here and did nothing. and now here you are, broken and bruised and in fear for your life.
"i can't go back there," you cry out, "i-he's gonna-"
"no one is gonna hurt you, anymore," he mumbles lowly in your ear, "i'm not gonna let that happen."
“you’re- you’re gonna leave me,” you whimper into his shirt, the only sound in your bathroom for the past few minuets your crying and his soothing hums. “you’re not gonna wanna deal with me anymore and leave and then i’ll really be alone and i’m so-”
“i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen,” he mumbles in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses his lips to your head. he rocks you back and forth so similarly to that night, his hand running up and down your back as he tries to get you to calm down.
“we’re gonna get you help. real help. and we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us. you’re gonna be okay, my love.”
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one year later:
you look back at the breakdown in your bathroom and are always surprised that you don’t feel embarrassed.
you think that was the moment when you finally realized how much you’d gone through and how much you really had to sort through. that you could distract yourself all you want and depend on san as much as you felt you needed but you still had things to work through. 
it took you about four therapist consultations to find the right one, eventually finding a sweet older woman who reminded you so much of your boss at the cafe. she listened to you and encouraged you and helped you find so much strength within yourself, you regret not taking your lawyer’s advice sooner about seeing a professional.
you still had bad days, of course, but now you’ve learned how to properly cope with them. cope with the stressors of everyday life, like the shouting of voices and the slamming of doors and san not being by your side 24/7. 
and san, little to your surprise, had done the right thing in saying you needed to learn to be independent.
it scared you at first, living alone and being alone with your thoughts and memories that tried to haunt you every chance they got. but now your life is so full of happy ones that it makes everything a little bit easier; you now love the freedom of living alone and have come to enjoy the peaceful silences of your apartment.
you now have so many things to laugh and feel happy about, like mingi and seonghwa’s obsession with gardening (even though they’ve moved on to vegetables now and have yet to combat the battle with squirrels eating their tomatoes). 
you have school and classes and friends that you made, making straight a’s while also balancing time with your study group, the boys and mrs. kim and your official boyfriend san. 
there are still some days when you wake up and feel a sinking feeling in your stomach that you think might be there forever, a certain smell or certain pain richoetting through your body that will remind you of what you went through and survived. 
but you know that you’ll be able to get through it, not only because you’re strong enough now but because you still have san to lean on - the boy in question currently with his arms wrapped tight around your waist and snoring down your neck. 
you can’t help the small smile on your face as you turn in his hold, your finger reaching out to trace the contours of his face. 
the warm, overwhelming feeling in your chest should scare you but it makes you feel even more happy and content with life, shutting your eyes immediately when his brown eyes meet yours. 
his loud chuckle fills the room before he lips attack your neck, quiet giggles leaving your mouth that only spur the blonde on more. 
“i saw that,” he mumbles playfully, smiling against your skin as your giggles get louder. “good morning, baby.” 
you pull back and smile at the boy staring down at you lovingly, the late-morning sun beaming through your window reminding you so much of the first time you saw him. 
heard his sweet, friendly voice that you immediately trusted and probably fell in love with right there.
"those are coming out really nice!" you hear a voice say from the yard next door. 
you shoot your head to the side to see a young man standing there, probably about your age, eyes kind and dimples poking out of his cheeks as he holds an overflowing white garbage bag.
your lips quirk up ever so slightly, probably being mistaken for your mouth twitching before you give him a tiny bow.
"thank you."
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justfangirlthingies · 3 years
Text
Intruders (Helmut Zemo)
This is my first ever finished fic for our beloved Zemo, who definitely deserves to have his sword in the mcu.
I've had this scenario in my head for a while now and usually I find it hard to properly write out my thoughts to text. I honestly have no idea what's gotten into me that allowed me to write my thoughts into a fic, but whatever it is, it can come and bless me with its presence more often
Summary: You were planning on having a relaxing evening when a group of "intruders" turned your plans around
Warnings: I think there's one or more curse words, a sword (but nothing dangerous happens with it) if you think there's anything that I missed and/or should be added as a warning here please let me know
Word count: 2137 words
Transaltion: If you are familiar with Zemo fics you probably know what "draga" means. In case you don't know draga = dear/beloved
You were relaxing in the bathtub, eyes closed, as the warm water embraced you. You dipped the back of your head into the water in order to get all your hair wet properly, a soft sigh escaping your lips. It was peaceful and quiet, until you heard something that sounded suspiciously like the front door opening and closing that is. Immediately, you sat up in the water, which started to slosh from the sudden movement, and pulled your knees closer to your body as you listened attentively. Maybe you just imagined the noise. You were probably just being paranoid. Living alone in a house as big as this just seemed to have taken it's toll on you. What you had not expected however, was to hear more noises. Oh you definitely weren't imagining this. Loud footsteps accompanied by voices could be heard throughout your home.
In distress, you quietly jumped out of the bathtub, your body and hair still dripping with water as you stepped foot on the towel on the floor. Well you certainly wouldn't be able to defend yourself wearing only a towel. You stayed alert while you let your gaze wander through the room swiftly, in order to find something to wear and also something to defend yourself. That's when you spotted it. His bathrobe.
You never bothered to take it off of it's hanger. Doing so, would have made the situation you lived in come crashing down on you and you couldn't have that, now could you? Besides, it still contained traces of his intriguing smell, you'd never find the willpower to discard something that carries his smell still.
Without giving it much thought, you grabbed the robe and put it on, quickly tying it up as you continued to scavenge the room for some kind of weapon or defense. After coming to the conclusion that there was nothing of use for you in this room you sighed silently. Panic settled in your system as you felt your heartbeat and breathing speed up. You tried desperately to calm yourself, your hand wandering to a little ceramic bowl that usually held soap in it. This would have to do.
Only when you reached out for the handle of the bathroom door, you remembered. The sword! There was a sword just conveniently hanging on one of the walls in the hallway. He had shown you how to use it. You probably forgot half of what he had taught you back then, but it would have to do to save your life. That's why he taught you in the first place, to defend yourself.
The bowl made no sound when you put it down, seeing as you placed it on a piece of fabric, in order to avoid making noise. Carefully, you opened the door and tiptoed your way out into the hallway. As soon as you had stepped foot onto the ground of the corridor, the voices grew clearer, but you needed to focus on your current goal, which was to go and get the sword hanging on the wall and not to listen to the intruders. So, that's exactly what you did.
Getting the sword off the wall turned out to be more challenging than you anticipated, as it was quite heavy. A lot heavier than what you remembered it to be. After struggling with it for a good minute or two ,you finally managed to lift it off the wall and the weight of the full sword, without it being supported on the wall anymore, nearly caused you to drop it, seeing as you only held it with one hand. The odds seemed to be in your favour, for you caught the weapon mid-air and while it still made contact with the ground, the carpet covering the floor managed to absorb the sound of the sword clinking against the floor.
You took a deep breath and pushed the big and wide sleeves of the robe up a bit, to keep them from disturbing you. The voices you had been hearing didn't seem to stray far from the living room and kitchen area. Putting on a straight and brave face, you exhaled deeply and lifted the sword like you had been taught, you also tried to keep the stance you were supposed to have as you made your way down the hall.
You came to a halt right around the corner to the kitchen and living room area, where you attempted to calm your breathing and heartbeat once again. "Now what?" you thought. Should you walk into the room and confront them? Or should you pull the attention to yourself from here right away?
You decided on the first option, this way you could still take a few minutes to calm yourself down and- CRASH!
"Oh no. Oh no this is bad. Shit! What do I do now?" You cursed under your breath as you looked at the object you had accidentally run over. Someone had placed a bag, which you accidentally shoved with your foot because you didn't know it was there, right next to a lamp. It is save to say, that said lamp now laid before your feet in shards and the placement of the bag also wasn't your doing. In fact, the bag didn't even belong to you.
"I thought you said this is your place and no one lives here" a man's voice growled. "Show yourself!" shouted another voice in your direction. You contemplated running away and hiding for a moment, but there was no backing out now. So, you gathered all your might and confidence together and tried to keep your voice steady you spoke "Who are you and what are you doing in my home? I will ask you to leave only this once" Your demand came out more shaky than you would have liked, but it would have to do "And-and I'm armed" You added, realizing you had forgotten to mention it previously.
What you were not aware of was that he stat around the corner with the two men and when your voice reached the Baron's ears, his eyes widened, though he promptly covered up his surprised expression from the others. "You knew about this didn't you?!" Sam jumped up from his seat "This was your plan all along!" "I assure you Samuel, I was not aware anyone was here" Zemo retorted quickly. "What a load of crap!" Samuel shouted back.
You however, didn't get a chance to take notice of the conversation the two were having because you noticed someone else approaching you. You quickly took your stance to fight for your life, the sleeves of the oversized bathrobe rolling back down your arms and covering your hands, which were placed on the sword's handle, as you did so. As soon as you caught size of the man approaching you, you noticed a feature he had. An arm made of metal. This was going to be harder than you thought. You swung your sword at the man who caught the blade mid-swing, with ease in his metal hand. "I'm very sorry for intruding. We were not aware that someone lives here." "Well, I obviously live here" you grumbled.
You kept struggling against him even after he had grabbed your arm and rendered your attacks useless. Even when he had started walking you back around the corner, you still keep the sword tight in your grip, ready to put up a fight again as soon as danger was near.
What you didn't expect though, was to see him. Baron Helmut Zemo. You dropped the sword as soon as you saw him, it landed on the tiled floor making a loud reverberating noise, that immediately caught his attention. "Helmut" you mumbled, not believing your own eyes as they began to water.
As soon as the sword fell, all of Zemo's attention was on you. The way you stood in a poise and secure stance, much like the one he showed you. The sword which he remembered to be decorating the hallway lying before your feet. Your (h/c) hair still wet from what he presumed must have been a bath. He didn't fail to notice his robe, which even though it was tied tightly and securely around your waist, still seemed to hang loosely around your body. Your hands were covered by the sleeves of his robe, yet he didn't miss the way something briefly reflected the light of the room from underneath one of the sleeves. So, you still wore the ring he had given to you. Hearing your voice sounded like music to his ears. Another thing he noticed, was that it seemed like you didn't age a day. Were you possibly taken by the blip?
Helmut Zemo could read you like a book, the expression on your face however, was the only thing that was hard for him to read right now. There were so many different emotions covering your features, but as soon as he took notice of your beautiful pools of (e/c) swimming with tears, he jumped up from his seat, ready to take you into his arms and just hold you tightly and securely to his body. "(Y/n)" he whispered back to you.
Sam Wilson queered the Baron's pitch, by holding him back from crossing the room to reach you. You took notice of what Zemo was trying to do. It was something you also wanted. Something you needed right now. It seemed you were in luck once again because the man with the metal arm had loosened his hold on your arm and it was easy for you to slip from his grip.
Without giving it another thought, you sprinted across the room and ran right into Helmut's arms, not caring about the man who was holding him back. You held each other tightly, enjoying his warmth and familiarity. Sadly, the bliss you were experiencing was suddenly cut short by the man with the metal arm.
"Let me go!" You struggled against the man's arm again. "James let go of them." Zemo demanded calmly. "Do you even know who that is you're throwing your arms around here?!" The guy asked you, his voice sounded more like a growl, which caused you to thrash around more. "Of course I know who that is!" you snarled back at him in irritation. "I think I can recognize my husband myself, thank you very much. Now let me go!" you sassed. The statement had caught the man named James off guard and he loosened his grip on you again, the other man doing the same with Zemo.
You had gotten married shortly before the Baron blew up the UN. It was the only way for him to come to terms with his past and while you were not happy with the decision he made, you understood why he did what he did. That doesn't mean you agreed with his ways of doing this. God knows you had tried to talk him out of it many times after you found out about his plans. You didn't even know what you were looking at when you saw the plans and even though Zemo knew you were not aware of his plan, even after looking at some of the blueprints, he wanted to be honest with you. So, he told you everything he had planned. There was no stopping him from at least trying and while you used to give yourself the fault for not stopping him, which would have been impossible anyways, you had come to terms with it over the years.
"Draga" your husband exhaled as he wrapped his arms around you again. His embrace was something you had missed for a long time, a smile formed onto your lips as you hugged him back and nestled your face in his neck. "I missed you Helmut." your voice was muffled by his shirt and skin. "I missed you too" Zemo immediately returned your statement, his lips resting on the top of your head as he inhaled your scent, that he loved and missed so much. "You smell nice" he murmured against your head making you giggle.
"You do know you'll have some explaining to do about all of...well, this" you pulled away a bit, looking at him as you gestured to him and the other two people in the room, who just watched this whole situation unfold in complete and utter bewilderment.
"I know, I know, but for now let us enjoy the moment just a little longer" he smiled at you as he pulled you closer again, before leaning forward a bit to whisper in your ear "My bathrobe suits you well dear" You lightly hit his shoulder for that statement and because you could practically hear the very evident smirk adorning his face.
Taglist: @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @handmaiden-of-mischief
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Surprise
Okay I’m soooo late, I’m sorry! This is my submission for @antoineroussel ‘s Summer Fic Exchange! I managed to dislocate my shoulder (again) and then get myself and half my house sick in the last week, so I’m so grateful for Demi and Emma’s patience <3  @leafs-forever , I hope you enjoy!
Rating: T (language)
Pairing: Kirby Dach/Reader
Words: 1599
Warnings: None
Summary: You and Kirby get ready for the NHL Awards.
Luckily, you had started getting ready before Kirby got home. You’re used to getting ready beside him, but it takes you longer to prepare for a fancy event. Getting dolled up isn’t as easy as people make it out to be.
By the time he gets home, you’ve already showered and are in the process of doing your hair. You keep it simple, just cleaning it up a bit and putting in some product to make it shine for the cameras. You can hear Kirby moving around, hanging up his bag and probably grabbing a glass of water. With the amount of water that boy drinks, you’d think he’d live in the bathroom.
“Hey, baby,” he greets when the two of you meet in the bedroom. He plants a lingering kiss on your lips, smile soft and relieved as he looks into your eyes. That look never fails to make your heart melt, touched by the way that he feels relaxed and safe around you.
You’ve been together for quite a few years, which is probably how you move around each other so easily. He strips and throws his clothes into the hamper on his way to the shower, and you take the opportunity to smack his ass as he passes by. He jumps and tries to give you a scolding look, but the smile glued to his face gives him away.
Needing to shower multiple times in a day has made him quick with it, so he’s out in time to zip your dress. You’ve already put your jewelry on, just a classy silver necklace-bracelet combo and a few different sized fashion rings. You like the way that they sit at different parts of your fingers, highlighting your hands and making your fingers look long and elegant.
You had tried to convince Kirby to wear something interesting, rather than just a plain black suit. It had kind of worked. The suit was still black, but it had a black satin trim with a subtle pattern that gave the whole look a little something special. The NHL Awards is supposed to be a fancy event, so he didn’t want to do anything too crazy.
You’d been to the award ceremony a couple times before, when teammates and friends had won honors. This was the first time Kirby himself was getting one, and you’re beyond proud. The Art Ross was a huge deal, and it was amazing to have Kirby officially alongside the likes of Gordie Howe and Mario Lemieux.
Once your dress is zipped, you head back into the bathroom to do your makeup. You know it’ll have to be a bit more dramatic and involved to show well on the cameras, so you take your time to get it right. You chat with Kirby through the door as he finishes air drying on the bed, sharing about your days as you usually do when you’re both home.
He’s half dressed by time you finish your makeup, fanning your face to make your setting spray dry faster. You head out into the kitchen to get yourself some water and kill a few minutes until Kirby finishes dressing and doing his hair.
“Can you grab my cufflinks, please?” He calls from the bathroom, “They’re in my bag.” You shout back an affirmative, making your way to the entryway.
His bag hangs next to yours, so you take it down, sitting on the floor to root through it. While your bag is organized neatly so that you can find things easily, Kirby’s backpack is a disaster. You take out clothes, push past empty Tupperware containers, finally finding a velvet box all the way at the bottom. It isn’t until you’ve pulled it out that you realize it’s far too small to be a cufflink case. Plus, you see an appropriately sized box leaning against a notebook at the bottom.
First things first, you grab the larger box to check inside. The cuff links are there, so you set it aside to bring to him. You take a few deep breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart. It doesn’t work. The weight of the small box in your hand feels immense, and lifting the lid is a Herculean effort.
The ring is silver, or maybe platinum or palladium. There are two gemstones as the centerpiece, a garnet and sapphire, entwined with a twisting infinity symbol that morphs into the band. His and your favorite stones, tied together perfectly. It’s beautiful.
That motherfucker.
Yes, you’re happy that he’s planning to propose, ecstatic even. Kirby is the love of your life, and you’ve intended to be with him as long as he’ll allow, ring or not. But yeah, the ring is a nice assurance.
Back to why he’s an asshole. He’s had this ring in his bag for who knows how long. Are you mad that he hasn’t already proposed? No. That he’s given no hint that this was coming? Nah. You’re mad because the ring you got for him has been sitting in your underwear drawer for weeks, and this jerk was going to beat you to the punch. Steal your thunder. Well, he’s got another thing coming.
You’ve been waiting for just the right moment to pop the question, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been procrastinating out of anxiety. Yeah, he’s your soulmate, but there’s still that annoying bit of fear that he could possibly say no. You’d thought about proposing tonight after the ceremony, or maybe behind the scenes after he received his award. You can’t seem to remember why you decided against it.
You pocket the ring box and shove everything back into his bag. Maybe you shouldn’t have sat on the floor in your dress, but you can always have Kirby dust you off if needed. Before you go to him, you open your top drawer as quietly as you can manage. You know exactly where the box is, so it only takes a second to grab.
Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest as you take another steadying breath on your way to the bathroom. He turns to you when you enter, hair fluffy and suit slightly rumpled. Even after all your time together, he still takes your breath away.
“Thank you, love,” he says when you hand him the cufflink case. He turns back to the mirror to check his hair one last time, before looking down to focus on getting his cuffs properly buttoned. You take a step to the right to ensure that you’re out of his line of sight, carefully adjusting your skirt as you go to one knee.
“You ready?” he asks, turning to where you were just standing. His left hand freezes where it’s tugging his shirt cuff into place, mouth falling open slightly when he sees you on the floor. You raise the box in your shaking hands, forgetting everything you’d been planning to say for the past month.
“Yeah,” you say instead, “I’m ready.” You open the box to present the ring, hoping you don’t sweat your makeup off in anticipation.
“Me too,” he replies, smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen. You’re glad that you don’t have your heels on yet, because you spring up from the ground to wrap him in your arms. Your smiles make kissing difficult, but you can’t seem to stop, anyway. You bury your face in his neck after, glad you’d used a lot of setting spray. A makeup faceprint on his suit would be kind of funny, but probably wouldn’t look the best.
“So, do I get that ring at some point, or?” Kirby teases. You punch his shoulder lightly.
“I don’t know, do I get an official yes?” you quip back, already taking the ring out of the holder.
“Yes, you do,” he says confidently, “And yes, I do.” You have to kiss him again for that one. The ring fits perfectly when you slide it onto his finger, hoping he can feel the garnet embedded into the inside of the black band. He kisses you once more afterward, and you can tell he’s squealing with joy on the inside just as much as you are.
“I have to go grab something,” he says, pulling away, “You’re not gonna believe this.” He doesn’t get two steps away before you grab his hand, turning him back toward you. You pull the second ring box out of your pocket, going for a smug smile but probably just looking like a dork.
“You mean this?” you ask, reveling in his shocked expression. Now it’s his turn to punch your shoulder, laughing brightly.
“You’re the worst!” he says, grinning nevertheless. He snatches the box out of your hand while you laugh.
“Turn around,” he orders, “I gotta surprise you too!” You only laugh harder at that, barely able to force yourself to settle as he turns you by the shoulders to face the opposite direction. Once he says “okay”, you turn back to him, giving the most over dramatic performance of your life as you act surprised. You’re both laughing too much for him to get much out, though you’re sure he had a planned speech too.
The ring sliding over your skin is an amazing feeling, but nothing compares to the way he wraps his arms around you once again, resting your foreheads together. You lose track of time looking into his eyes, amazed that you’ve somehow managed to find someone so perfect for you.
Now you have to call your mom so she doesn’t find out through an article. Oops.
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y0itsbri · 3 years
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gallavich week 2021 - day 7 - meet ugly
thank you to @ianandmickeygallavich for the inspo // @gallavichthings
Prompt: Ian and Mickey are neighbors in an apartment complex. They haven’t ever interacted, but one day they get stuck the elevator. One of them doesn’t like confined spaces but doesn’t share this so the other one assumes he is freaking out for no reason.
Words: 3.5k
--
"I'm going out tonight, dickbreath!" Mandy announced, popping her head out of the bathroom. She was wearing a short sequined dress, fitted tightly to her body and only halfway zipped up so it slipped part way down her shoulders.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Mickey called from his recliner in the living room with an Old Style in hand. Work has been absolutely kicking his ass this week and he wanted nothing more than a chill night in.
"Oh, c'mon, now that's no fun. You don't do anything," she accused.
"That's not true!" Mickey grumbled, remote in hand and flicking past some news channels onto some good shit -- finally. Rerun of Jurassic Park.
"What're your plans for the evening then, hot shot?" Mandy teased as she applied yet another layer of mascara on her already blackened eyelashes, "Dinosaur movies all night?"
"Might go to the corner store for some smokes."
"Please get something to eat while you're at it. We have like nothing in here." She waltzed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and grimaced. He could admit that a grocery run was, in fact, long overdue.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Serious, Mick." Mandy gave him the look. The Look being the same Look that his mother used to give him when he was being a little shit.
Fine. "Got it. I'll eat something." She smiled at that.
"Thank youuu," Mandy dragged the word out as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.
"Gross."
"Ditto. Zip me up?"
--
Mandy had headed out awhile ago -- long enough ago that Mickey was now halfway through his second 'dinosaur movie.' He should really visit his dinosaur guy again soon, he's probably got some cool new shit. Mickey sighed and got up, idling over to the kitchen.
He downed a full glass of water and opened the fridge. Yeah, unless he wanted to eat a pickle with ketchup and beer, he needed to go out. He debated ordering in, but he needed to go to the corner store anyways. Two birds one stone kind of situation.
Mickey threw on his favorite pair of sweatpants and his Davie Bowie tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. It was a good shirt. Mickey thought Bowie was hot -- fuckin' alien-looking, but hot, nonetheless.
Mickey shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets and locked up his apartment. Maybe Ernie would have the good roast beef sandwiches today.
His thoughts about dinner plans subsided as he noticed the guy waiting for the elevator.
Mickey had seen the ginger around. He was hard to miss -- fuckin' tall, always going out for runs early in the morning in short shorts and coming back all sweaty, always had a million fucking people coming and going from his apartment. They lived on opposite ends of the hall, but Mickey had never actually spoken to him before.
Mandy had given her brother lots of shit for acting so goddamn unapproachable and that's why he has no friends. Mickey didn't want to be friends with everyone, but he wouldn't mind spending some time with the hot red-head down the hall... eventually.
But he was waiting for the elevator with him right now. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact in fear that it would lead to small talk which would then lead Mickey to inevitably embarrass himself. He couldn't blow his shot. Mandy did the small talk, not him. He took out his phone and scrolled through Instagram even though none of the photos were loading.
He hardly looked up when the elevator arrived and he stepped into it, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. Maybe it was an unreasonable amount of space, but it still wasn't enough for Mickey. He could still smell the guy's cologne. And it was infuriatingly attractive.
"Ground floor?" The man's voice practically sent heat down Mickey's spine. This was going to be a long ride.
"Uh, yeah." Nice, Mick. Not embarrassing at all.
"Great." It hung in the air, a tinge of awkwardness to it.
Out of the corner of his eye Mickey could see the the man leaning against the elevator wall, crossing his ankles as he not-so-subtly stared Mickey's direction.
Mickey was running out of things to check on the his phone and he was about to give in and finally make eye contact when he felt a shift. Then an ungodly clanging of metal. And a stop.
Fuck.
He glanced up at the dial. Sure enough they were stopped between floors, and not at all near the ground.
"The fuck?"
"What?" The red-head locked confused eyes with Mickey's.
"We're stopped. Why the fuck are we stopped?"
"Hm," The guy poked around at the open doors button and nothing happened. "I don't know."
All hopes of positive small talk was out the window as Mickey went into full panic mode. He did not like small, confined spaces -- which happened to be exactly what his current predicament entailed.
"You open the doors!" Mickey practically shrieked.
"Why me!?" The attractive guy spit back.
"You work out and shit -- do I look like I could pry those fuckers apart?"
"Well..." The red-head took a moment to size up Mickey's smaller form. "Yes, you do actually- but these doors are heavy as fuck. We don't have like super strength."
"Fuck you."
"Uh, fuck me!?"
"Yeah, fuck you. Not even tryin' and now we're both going to fuckin' die in here. Any last words, Red?"
He rolled his eyes. "We're not going to die. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"
"Don't you think you're being a little too calm considering we're stuck?"
"Oh. You're freaking out."
"No shit I'm freaking out, Sherlock." Mickey ran his hands down his face. This was not fucking happening to him right now.
"Hey, take deep breaths."
"Can't. Gonna die." Mickey gasped.
"Well, if you can't breathe, you're definitely going to pass out."
Mickey shot him panicked eyes.
"Hey, hey it's okay. Just look at me."
Mickey could do that.
"Copy me. In-" He inhaled, chest expanding.
"Out-" Mickey felt his breath on his face. In any circumstance, a stranger breathing on him would warrant a punch in the gut, but now it was more grounding than anything else. They repeated that motion a few times.
"Good. See, you can breath."
"What are you? A fuckin' doctor?" Mickey huffed a laugh in disbelief.
"Been to enough," he chuckled.
"Huh?"
"Never mind. But, uh- look, see, I'll hit the emergency button and someone will come get us soon. It'll be okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm positive. Got stuck in one of these with my sister when I was little, kinda scary at first but we were out in practically no time. She sang to me to pass the time, but I take it you don't want me to sing to you?"
That earned a full-bellied laugh from Mickey, "Not yet."
The man grinned goofily like a golden retriever.
They were silent for a moment.
"So, uh, what's your name?" The red-head asked, gazing curiously at Mickey.
Mickey just stared back at him.
"Your name?" He repeated gently.
"Mickey."
"Mickey," He said it so soft like a prayer. "I like it. I'm Ian."
He had no idea what he expected, but it wasn't Ian. Ian was fitting, though. Ian was good.
--
Ian had hit the emergency button a few times for good measure while Mickey had tried to call Mandy to no success. They settled onto the floor, leaning against opposite walls, feet nearly colliding in the center. Neither made a move to completely avoid that.
After Mickey had calmed down a bit, they fell into bouts of comfortable conversation and comfortable silence.
"I thought you just hated me." Ian mumbled after a bit.
"What I hate is being trapped here." Mickey stared at the walls threatening to enclose around them. He closed his eyes so he didn't start to panic again.
"Even before this."
"Oh?" That was news to Mickey. That was never his intent.
"Yeah, I always see you around, but you never seem to see me." Ian looked to the ground when he said it.
"I've seen ya plenty. You're the dork with the short ass shorts."
Ian smirked, "I guess I am."
"Hard to miss, man."
"You too. I've wanted to say hi for like months, but you always looked like you were ready to snap me in half or something. I kinda like my limbs in tact."
Mickey swiped his thumb against his nose and sniffed, embarrassed, "Sister says I scare everyone away. Used to be a good thing."
"Sister... wait, wait, wait, hold up. You're Mandy's brother, aren't you?"
"You know Mandy? Oh god, you're not banging her, are you?" That would throw a wrench in his plans.
"Oh god, no!" Ian threw his hands up in a mock surrender like that was the most repulsive thing he's ever heard.
"Something wrong with my sister?" Mickey grew defensive. She may be a lot to handle at times, but she was still his sister.
"No, no, she's great! 'm just not into... well, uh- I'm- let's just say that if you had a brother, maybe I'd be banging him." He grimaced.
Watching Ian stumble over his words after being so confident about everything else was a bit amusing.
"Oh -- cool." Mickey wasn't used to such obvious disclosures about sexuality with strangers.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Mickey avoided all eye contact.
"So?"
Ian paused until Mickey was able to look at him again.
"So, what?"
"Do you have any brothers?" A playful flicker in Ian's eyes made it obvious that he was just being a little shit now.
"You're an idiot."
"Maybe so, but that doesn't answer my question still."
"Yeah, I have brothers, but they'd uh- let's just say definitely not be into that."
"And you're... not not into that?"
Mickey rolled his eyes. His lack of denial was basically a confession and they both knew it.
Ian smirked and knocked the toes of their shoes together.
--
Help announced itself to be coming soon over the tiny intercom embedded in the elevator. Sometime shortly after that, Ian had made his way over to the wall next to Mickey's, rather than across.
"Where were you going tonight?" Ian asked, turning to fully face Mickey.
"Nowhere." Nowhere interesting at least.
"Really? So you just take an elevator down to nowhere?"
"Alright, smart ass, I needed to get dinner. Gonna be a late dinner now that's for sure, fuckin' starving."
"Shit."
"What about you? Got a hot date or something?" Mickey eyed him up and down. Ian's outfit wasn't fancy by any means, but he still looked damn good in it.
"Oh, I wish," he winked, "Just going on a walk to clear my head. But this is working just as well."
"Good for you, man. My head is fuller than ever."
"What're you thinking about?" Ian's heavy breath practically bounced off his face. His gaze flickered to Ian's pouting lips. This was ridiculous.
Kissing you. Kissing you. Kissing you. "Nothing."
"Riiiight." Ian's eyes mimicked the same trail that Mickey's had just followed.
"Yup."
Ian scooted closer to Mickey and he swore his heart was beating so loud that even Ian could hear it. If he could, he made no indication. Instead, he eyed Mickey's hand resting on the floor. Gently, careful not to spook him, he caressed Mickey's fingers, nearing his tattooed knuckles.
Mickey fought the urge to yank his hand away. No one ever touched him so delicately, so sweetly. He figured that Ian would have guessed that, seeing his crude tattoos, but he wasn't acting like this was strange. So Mickey let him.
"Fuckin' hate them." Mickey murmured, watching Ian's fingertips tracing over the back of his hand.
Ian frowned.
"The tattoos."
"They're you. I'm sure they have a story."
"Wish I could forget it."
"If it makes you feel any better, I have a pair of tits on my shoulder."
"Ex-fucking-cuse me?!" Mickey pictured literal tits growing out of the man's back.
"Here, look," Ian turned, pulling his shirt up, revealing an insanely toned and insanely freckled back. Surely he was not about to be flashed in an elevator. But sure enough, tattooed on his shoulder was a pair of double-D's.
"Shit! Dude, what the fuck is up with that?" Mickey laughed.
Yeah, this made him feel better. At least he didn't have fucking titties tattooed on his knuckles, though he was sure someone in his family must have something like that. They're fucking idiots like that. Like Ian, apparently. But Ian was good.
"It was supposed to be my mom." Ian winced, pulling his shirt back down to cover it again.
"Mom must've been a banger." Mickey joked, still hardly containing his laughter.
"Ugh," Ian groaned dramatically. "Never gonna live that one down."
He threw his hands back on the ground, near Mickey's but not touching this time.
Experimentally and slowly, so slowly, Mickey hooked his fingers with Ian's and rubbed his thumb against Ian's hand. It was calloused, but so soft. It was a movement so gentle he hardly recognized himself, completely contradictory to the message literally written across his hands.
He was practically holding hands with a man in an elevator. Oh, if dear dad could see him now.
Moving out of his hell house with Mandy had been a good step, but it had taken Mickey years to unlearn his self-hate, allow himself to be. He still wasn't perfect, and he still felt years behind. But with Ian, it felt normal. It felt right and warm.
Right then, he felt the elevator shift again. He tightened his grip on Ian's hand. Ian returned the hold. If he was going to die, at least he wasn't going to die alone.
Mickey realized that they weren't falling down, but rather moving upwards.
They released their hands and leapt up to their feet as the door dinged open, revealing a small staff of maintenance personnel, not looking at all concerned that two men had just been trapped inside for an unspecified amount of time.
"Fuckin' finally!" Mickey ran out. He resisted the urge to drop to the floor and kiss the ground. He was dramatic, but he wasn't that dramatic.
Ian thanked the maintenance people then hurried along beside Mickey. They weren't on their floor, but they sure as hell weren't about to take the elevator again after all that.
"Hey, Mickey, wanna come back to my place? I think I still have some leftover lasagna if you're still hungry."
Mickey checked the time. Yeah, Ernie's place was definitely closed by now. Plus he really did just want to go back to Ian's. He glanced up to see Ian in almost full puppy-dog eyes. The dork was needlessly persuasive, he'd give him that.
"Yeah, sure. I could eat." He grinned like an idiot.
Ian nodded his head towards the stairwell, holding the door open for Mickey, who obediently followed up the steps.
--
Ian's apartment wasn't too different than Mickey and Mandy's, mirrored and maybe smaller, but it looked oddly inviting and definitely way more lived in -- almost too much décor and family photos hung up around the space.
"Uh, make yourself comfortable," Ian called as he rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing a couple plates to reheat some food for Mickey and himself.
Mickey was no stranger to feigning confidence in unfamiliar locations, but this felt different, more genuine. He actually respected Ian, the man having been kind and patient with him in a less than ideal situation.
He sat himself on the barstool at Ian's countertop and watched him. The gorgeous man who he had been eyeing in secret for months, who had helped him through a small panic attack, who had held his hand and traced his tattoos like they were art. Like Mickey was art.
"So, Bowie, huh?" Ian leaned against the counter, waiting out the timer on the microwave.
"What?"
"Your shirt," he pointed, and Mickey looked down.
"Oh, yeah. He's cool as fuck. Dope music."
"Got great hair, too."
"You would think so."
"Self-love, baby."
"Good for you." But there was no edge in his voice.
Ian smiled. The microwave beeped and they settled in, eating together with nothing but the awkward clanging of silverware and chewing. Mickey was too fucking starving and too fucking tired to care about formalities to give a shit at this point.
"Bet you didn't think you'd spend your night eating lasagna with a David Bowie look-alike, huh?" Ian teased over a mouthful of pasta.
"You wish, man."
"Hey, it's at least a little true."
"Yeah, you're both fuckin' aliens."
"Maybe so, but at least we're hot."
They both smiled around their forks, glancing over at each other a little too frequently with nothing but fondness.
--
Ian collected their plates when they were done, taking them over to the sink to wash them later. Mickey got up and followed him into the center of the kitchen, still sipping on his beer before setting it on the counter to his right.
In a move that shocked Ian, and even himself, Mickey moved into Ian's space and pressed his chest against Ian's back. He wrapped his arms around Ian's waist, feeling up the plains and softness of his stomach, feeling his breath hitch and his heart beat faster. Mickey's warm breath bounced off of Ian's neck and back onto his own face.
Ian sighed and placed his hands over Mickey's again. He leaned his head back onto Mickey's shoulder for a moment before wiggling free from Mickey's grip enough to turn around and face him, carding one of his hands through Mickey's dark hair.
"Mickey." He said it so soft. With so much admiration. Mickey couldn't take it anymore. He leaned up and pulled Ian's head down so they were the same height.
"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured, lips practically touching Ian's with the words.
Ian pressed their lips together. For all his gentle touches throughout the night, his kiss was anything but. Like he needed him to breathe.
Ian pushed him backwards towards the living room, stumbling over each others' feet in the process. Mickey greedily pulled down on Ian's neck, desperate not to let him go. Ian smiled into it and dropped backwards onto the couch cushions, pulling Mickey on top of him, making out like dumb teenagers.
--
Eventually, they settled and Mickey rested his head on Ian's chest while Ian rubbed his back and head comfortingly. Truthfully, he was beginning to panic a bit. He hadn't liked anyone in awhile, and Ian was very hard to not like.
"Are you good?"
Fuckin' mind reader.
"I don't know." Smooth, Mick.
"You don't know what?" Ian probed gently.
Mickey sighed, "How to do this," he answered honestly. There was no point in lying to Ian.
Ian kissed Mickey's forehead, "We can do this any way you want, alright? No rush, no pressure."
"Yeah?"
"Absolutely," Ian scratched Mickey's head for a moment, "I've been waiting for you for awhile, Mick, I'll wait for however long you want."
Mickey leaned into his touch and then kissed his shoulder, "I want you, this."
"Me too." They smiled into each other. Safe together.
--
Neither made a move to push things further for the night. Ian had flicked on the tv to the same channel Mickey had on earlier, the Jurassic Park marathon still playing. After whatever movie was on now, Mickey decided he should head home. He was utterly exhausted after the day, and as much as he liked Ian, he didn't want to pass out in the guy's apartment -- though he was sure Ian wouldn't mind at this point, kind bastard.
After Ian had pulled Mickey into one last embrace, Mickey wretched open Ian's door, only to come face to face with his sister, makeup smudged and heels in hand after her night out.
She gasped way louder than fucking necessary, "You slut!"
"Shut the fuck up," he grumbled pushing past her to head back to his own apartment.
"See ya later, Mick!" Ian called down the hall. Mickey didn't respond, but Ian took no offense. To be fair, he had just been caught red-handed by his very dramatic bitch of a sister.
Mandy grinned and looked between Mickey's retreating form and Ian's blushing face. "Oh my god, Ian! I knew it!"
"Hi, Mands." He ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck.
She gave a cheeky, knowing wave goodbye and took off barefoot after Mickey, "You fucker! I want all the details!"
"You ain't gettin' 'em, bitch!" He stormed inside, but left the door open for her behind him.
Mandy threw her shoes on the floor and met up with him in the kitchen, punching his arm lazily so he spilled his newly-opened beer down his hand. "The fuck?!"
"I'm so proud of you!" She made grabby hands at Mickey in attempts to smush his cheeks, but he weaseled out of there quick enough to avoid her gross hands. She may be fuckin' drunk, but she was still quick.
"Yeah, will well ya stop screaming it from the rooftops. Ian's gonna think I'm a fuckin' loser."
"Awww," She chased after him as he headed down the hall, "You are a loser, but that's besides the point! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"
"Night!" Mickey shut his bedroom door in Mandy's face. She'd get over it in a minute. Hell she was probably well on her way to passing out already. Maybe she'd get some details out of him tomorrow.
But tonight -- he reveled in the fact that he spent the night making out with his very kind, very dorky, very hot red-headed neighbor.
--
And when Mandy eventually moved out from their apartment and in with her girlfriend, Mickey had absolutely no problem finding a new red-headed roommate.
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sunsetcurvecuddles · 3 years
Note
“Let me bandage you up,” Tía or Ray and Reggie, just to be different. 😁
hi i loved this so much omg. huge thanks to Ángela @angela-feelstoomuch for the spanish help as well, any remaining mistakes are totally my own fault haha. warning for some swearing and mentions of bl00d/minor injury.
ao3 link in reblogs!
--
Honestly, being an honorary Molina is pretty great most of the time. Reggie loves having a little brother, would have done anything to convince his parents to have another kid when he was younger (and alive), though he knew they never would, since one kid was already such a pain in the ass. So Carlos is amazing.
And obviously Julie is his favourite girl ever, and his favourite still-alive person in the world, and she sings like an angel and thinks his country songs are cool and he would do anything for her and et cetera. It’s nice to see Luke and Alex settle in, get more relaxed - Luke doesn’t shy away from Julie every time Ray enters a room, and Alex doesn’t make excuses to miss dinner so that he doesn’t have to say grace, because he’s realised Ray doesn’t make him say grace.
“Niños!” Ray is calling from the kitchen, oven mitts on his hands, grin on his face, “Help setting the table?”
Even from here, dinner smells amazing. “Coming!” Reggie calls, manages not to say ‘dad’ at the end but it’s close, as he and Carlos bounce up off the couch and run to the kitchen.
Ray is the best. Reggie’s own dad was - look, it’s not that he was awful, it’s not that Reggie hates him, it’s just - he saw these dads, in movies, and on TV, and in other peoples homes, and he wanted one even more than he wanted a puppy, or a little brother, and Ray is that dad. He’s understanding, and encouraging, and funny, and a great cook, and he never raises his voice even when he should be mad about something. Reggie feels so lucky that Julie and Carlos let Reggie share their dad, even unofficially.
“Carlos!” Tía snaps, as he runs past her and ducks under her elbow, narrowly avoiding the tray in her hands, “Cuidado! La bandeja está caliente!”
It’s Tía Victoria who kinda scares Reggie.
It’s not that she’s not nice. Tía is nice. She brings over food and drives Carlos to ball games and pesters Ray about dentists’ appointments he almost forgets to go to. It’s just that she’s a little more like the other adults Reggie knew. She barks her words, sometimes, and she doesn’t get Julie’s music thing quite like Ray does, even if she’s supportive for the most part. And she doesn’t always believe Carlos about things, which Reggie understands more now that he’s been conned by Carlos about several random things (for example, Eggos are not in the house-sized waffle business in 2020 as Carlos told him, and they did not manage to breed dragons into existence with new DNA cloning technology) but still. It makes him nervous.
“Sorry, Tía!” Carlos chirps as he slides on his socks into a crouched position in front of the cupboard where they keep all the plates and bowls. Since Carlos has them handled, Reggie goes for glasses instead, reaching overhead for the cupboard on the opposite side of the room.
“Carlos!” sighs Tía again, more irritated than before, and Reggie feels his shoulders tense even though he wills them not to. “Let me help carry some of those, you’ll drop them, sobrino.”
“Fine,” Carlos huffs, and there’s the clink of plates as he passes half his pile off to her and they head for the dining table.
Reggie counts in his head as he stacks the glasses in the crook of his arm. There’s him and the boys, so four - wait, no, three - plus Julie, so four - then Ray and Carlos and Tía so five six seven -
He’s too caught up counting, is the problem, and doesn’t focus enough on how he has the glasses balanced. It probably would have been fine, except there’s a loud thud! Which Reggie registers a moment too late as being Luke, jumping from the top of the stairs to the bottom, enjoying his alive body. The sound scares Reggie about a foot in the air, and he fumbles the stack of glasses, and almost manages to save it.
The glass from the very top of the pile smashes on the floor, a harsh shatter that makes every head in the room turn in his direction. Reggie feels the panic surge up in him like a forgotten pot on the stove suddenly bubbling over. With trembling hands, he puts the rest of the glasses on the counter and scrambles down to the floor, tries to gather the glass shards together into a pile from where they’ve scattered, desperate to tidy the mess, to give some sense of responsibility, instead of just standing there like a stupid kid. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and his voice shakes more than he’d like, almost more than his hands had, “I’m sorry, I can clean it-”
“Reggie!” interrupts Tía, and her voice seems sharper than the glass.
“Victoria-” Ray begins, but Tía doesn’t let him finish, either. She’s already practically at Reggie’s side, crouching down next to him on the floor.
Her closeness makes Reggie’s hairs stand on end, and he’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not for her to gently lay her fingertips on his wrist and say, in a much softer tone, “Mijo, you’re bleeding.”
“Oh.” Reggie blinks. Looks at his arm, next to where her perfectly manicured nails have landed. She’s right, he sees. There’s a few little gashes, nothing huge, trickling blood in tiny streams down his forearm. In a few more moments, the blood would have reached his hand, and he would have noticed, probably. Except when he turns his palms up to look at them, he realises they’re cut up, too. Probably from grabbing glass shards with no protection.
His lip wobbles before he can stop it. He can still feel everyone looking at him. Knows what they must be thinking.
Stupid fucking kid.
“What are you staring at?” Tía says, back to business as usual. He flinches at her voice, before he realises she’s not talking to him. She’s talking to the others. “Come on! Ray, grab the dustpan and some shoes, clean up this glass before anyone else gets hurt. Carlos, finish setting the table, and Luke, go fetch the others para la comida.” In his peripheral vision, Reggie sees everyone bounce back into action, like her words broke a spell on them, and it’s a relief to know they’re not all looking at him any more. Tía continues, as she tucks an arm around Reggie’s shoulders, “Reggie and I will be back.”
“We will?” Reggie asks automatically, as she helps him balance on his wobbly, baby-giraffe legs.
“En un minuto,” she tells him confidently. “But first, let me bandage you up.”
He’s not exactly going to argue with her. Honestly, any excuse to get out of the public space is appreciated when his eyes still feel so close to swimming with tears. Firm yet warm, she leads him to the bathroom and has him sit on the closed toilet lid while she pulls Ray’s first aid kid from the cabinet, pulling from it some disinfectant, bandages and a pair of tweezers.
“Just in case any glass is left,” she explains briskly, settling on the edge of the bathtub and turning his arm over, palm up, so she can see the scratches. She tuts softly. “Your poor hands!”
Reggie ducks his head, whispers, “I really am sorry.”
“¿Por qué?” she asks. “It was an accident, right?”
“Huh?”
She sits back again and looks him in the eyes for a moment. If it was Ray, or one of the boys, Reggie would shy away from the look, but she has the same skill Julie has, to pin you in place with her gaze, so Reggie assumes it’s from Rose’s side of the family. “I know you didn’t throw that glass on the ground on purpose. It was just an accident. These things happen.”
“You’re not angry?” The question slips out before Reggie can think about how silly it sounds, but instead of rolling her eyes, or her jaw clenching in annoyance, Tía’s expression softens somehow.
“No, mijo. Not at all. Estaba un poco preocupada, maybe, but that’s only because I care about you.”
Reggie doesn’t know what to say to that. Bites his lip as she gently applies disinfectant along the wounds, once she’s declared them sufficiently glass-free, and wills himself not to cry as she wraps the bandages around his arm and a little around the palm of his hand. At least if he cries she’ll just think it’s because of the sting, and not because he braced himself so hard to be yelled at and called names and then it never came.
Not because he keeps remembering that he feels like glass himself. Always a moment away from falling onto the ground and shattering, so teeter-y that the kindness of adults he barely knows can almost knock him over the edge.
“Terminado!” she declares, tying off the last of the bandage, and gives him a big smile. It looks genuine enough. Not like she’s bottling anything up to let out at him later. Not like she’s fronting, or lying, not that Reggie’s ever been particularly good at telling the difference with anyone. She must see the puzzlement in his face, because she adds, “Just an accident.”
It really seems that simple. Like everything’s just fixed and okay. Like she doesn’t think Reggie is stupid. The feeling is sort of overwhelming; Reggie’s stomach feels all warm, and - empty, actually. It grumbles loudly in that moment, and Tía laughs, and Reggie laughs with her.
“Vamos a como?” he tries, because he’s been listening, and trying to pick things up.
“Vamos a comer,” she corrects him, but he can’t mistake her tone this time for anything other than delighted, her expression for anything other than fond and relieved as she helps him up. They go back down the stairs, her loosely holding his hand the whole way, not enough to hurt his wounds, but enough to remind him she’s there.
She presents him to the table with a goofy little ta-da! gesture, much to the joy of those already at the table. “Our Reggie, back in one piece!” she says. Laughter and relief radiates from all the others, and Tía grins, pleased, puts her hands on her waist. In that moment, despite all his preconceptions, she reminds him more of Julie than anyone else.
Maybe she isn’t so scary after all.
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