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tinyvesselhearts · 1 year

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What Fear Does to People (Egon x You)

It's Chapter 8 of my series Thing Is but can be read as a standalone.

Rating: Mature (descriptions of violence) Pairing: Egon Spengler x You (no Y/N) Others: "Platonic" bed-sharing, pre-relationship, gentle touching, hurt/comfort, ghosthunting, Lovecraftian monsters, Ray's recovering from a bust and he's not currently at the station

(also: a reference to GB game. If you know, you know)

It’s roughly 2 a.m. when it starts.

Egon wakes up with a shiver. He’s freezing. A gust of wind runs through his clothes and that in itself is enough to put him on guard. Thing is, all the windows are closed, both of you are covered with quilts and there’s no tangible cause for the cold. No rational excuse, unless…

With mounting suspicion, he takes a look around. It’s pitch black and he can barely make out the edges of Ray’s empty cot. Warmth of the linen seems to hit him all at once, stark contrast to what he’s just felt on his skin. Disconcerting. Eerie, maybe— but he’s calm nonetheless. This is how those entities operate. The Collective: all kinds of eldritch horrors. They’re playing hide- and- seek until their victims can’t keep their wits about them anymore and he— as a devoted scientist and a Ghostbuster (yes, the very same)— is here to teach a lesson.

You’re unabashedly curled up against his side. Safe, unbothered, sound asleep. The attacker must be considering you innocuous enough, likely due to your comparative vulnerability, and is focused on Egon. Perfect. He lays his head back but doesn’t close his eyes— he’s vigilant— alert— ready.

The thing about Collective Unconscious is that despite being aware of its modus operandi, human brain is pretty pathetic in comparison. Its innate susceptibility to fear, specifically. During his years of Psychology, Egon would repeatedly hear that fear and love were the strongest of all human instincts, as they made the whole body receptive and focused in an instant. Later he’d find out that’s true about fear. He has no first- hand data on the latter— he supposes due to the troubled relationship with his parents— but Peter and Ray have done enough stupid things out of affection to confirm the thesis. Since Venkman’s incident with the tank a few years back, Egon hasn’t questioned love or its impact on a subject’s decision- making process. Or common sense. Or mating choices, just to be clear.

With that in mind, Egon knows what to expect. Diminished control of his body. Flinches. Unconditioned reflexes. He is determined to distinguish between real, physical stimuli and paranoia- induced ploys. A moment to cool off, analyze and conclude before acting on impulses. That’s the plan. Right. It’s easy in theory.

A distant bang echoes in the garage. It resembles a metal tool— a wrench, maybe?— but the sound is followed by nothing else, so Egon decides it’s nothing but a figment of imagination. Until—

“What was it?”

He leans back. He can’t see your face properly but enough to notice your eyes are open.

“…Oh. You’ve heard it too?”

“It’s not like… Ray got discharged in the middle of the night and sauntered back here, is it?”

There’s another loud bang. Nobody moves but both of you are very much awake.

Egon finally speaks.

“I’ll check it.”

“Uh, okay, okay”, you whisper. “What do I do?”

“Stay here and try to sleep. I’ll handle it.”

“…what?”

“Don’t argue. There’s no time. I’ll take care of whatever that is. I’m a professional, listen to me and I’ll make sure you’re safe. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yes, but the Ghostbusters are a team. Now you’re on your own. I’m not leaving you! What if—”

“No time”, he mutters, putting the proton pack on. “Stay here. You were so tired you almost passed out on the couch. Do I need to remind you that you put my shirt on backwards?”

“My mom says it’s good fortune!”

“I’m serious”, he states and switches the backpack on. “Eldritch horrors are different than regular spirits. They harm both physically and emotionally. Lack of proper rest weakens the cognitive functions and you may be a real, tangible danger to yourself— and to me. Especially if you’re not familiar with their strategy.”

Egon slides into a pair of slippers. It’s not the perfect job attire but it’ll have to do— he stupidly left his combat boots in the locker downstairs. Maybe when he slides down to the garage, he’ll manage to change.

He takes the final look at you because you’re awfully quiet. Exhausted and hopeless, he guesses. He’d appreciate some backup but the boys aren’t here and you’re in no position to fill the role now. When you ignored his precaution the last time (while fully capable and well- rested), you ended up wounded in his lab. What you’re facing here can do much, much more damage.

Egon briefly considers escorting you out of the premises altogether—just in case— but then, how could he ensure your safety if the spirit decides to leave after you?

His chest is heavy when he speaks.

“If anything suspicious happens in this room, call me immediately. Shout, if you have to.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Alright”, he shoots you a look. “Stay here.”

You nod. It’s weak, devoid of conviction and Egon wants to emphasize how crucial it is for you to stay— but another loud bang comes from the reception area and there’s no time to waste.

Egon turns around and scuttles towards the pole. He slides down. Lands with a loud thump, doubled by the flip- flops and takes a slow, cautious look around.

He’s quick to spot the source of the noise: it’s a loose pipe lying on the floor. It might not be currently moving but it sure as heck was just a moment ago— Ray doesn’t leave spare parts scattered around the floor. He has his secret dirty stash for that.

Egon takes a long, wary look around. Nothing’s moving, except for gentle flow of a dirty cloth drying on the heater. He pulls out the PKE meter and glances at the readings. Whatever this thing is, it’s here. It may be invisible but it’s here. Lurking. Leering. Hidden in the shadow, a predator on the hunt. Any moment now.

He doesn’t even manage to slide the device back into the pocket when a slimy tentacle shoots at him.

It’s massive. Heavy and slick. Whatever creature it belongs to, it must be huge and, uh, incredibly unusual. The dissonance is almost incomprehensible: to see a wet, marine limb which acts very much alive here— in the garage of New York’s finest— in a place devoid of water (well, save for a tap).

Egon screams. He drops the PKE meter and reaches for the charged rod. A proton stream lashes outwards with full power but before it catches the giant limb, it’s already gone— slithered into the shadows, shrouded in shade.

A few things to note right away: one, the ghost is huge. Two, it’s unlike any other they’ve seen before. Three, the sheer amount of mucus suggests a healthy dose of Marsh genes. Four, it’s out of sight and apparently good at staying there. Right. All Egon has to do is pretend to be unsuspecting, so that the ghost—

“Yeah, so I’ve done some thinking and I can’t do this.”

He whips his head around. There you are: in his crumpled shirt still inside- out, peeking through the hole in the ceiling. You’re in the middle of putting on your socks.

He can’t with you. He can’t.

“What did I tell you? Don’t come down here!”

“Oops?”

“No”, he yells. “I told you to STAY! Stay! How many times—”

“Sure, and pretend your screaming flows like a nursery rhyme.”

You clutch the pole with both hands, pull yourself close and slide down. Egon curses under his breath. Shite. Shite. Of course you wouldn’t listen. Psychology classes pop up in his mind again— the most powerful instincts— the things people do for fear…

“I’m here now. Poof. Too late”, you say. “Whatever happens is on me.”

He stifles a groan. It’s a lost cause. The stairs are at the opposite end of the garage. Escorting you there would take way too long and expose you to a stealthy attack and— well, he doesn’t suppose forcing you to climb the pole is on the table.

“Alright”, he decides. “Grab the pack.”

You manage to put it on yourself. He helps you to switch it on. You huff, smile and turn to him.

“Which trap?”

“Regular.”

“On it!”

You dash towards Ecto- 1. Just as Egon suspected: the enormous tentacle emerges from the shadow and aims.

Egon shoots. The proton stream reaches the ghost this time. The current wraps around its shape. The ectoplasmic limb wrestles and yanks but he holds it in place: it’s your turn to capture it before it rips the shackle.

“Now!”

You slide the contraption right under the ghost. Set the pedal. Step. Open. Wait.

Intense glow fills the room. Egon navigates the tentacle downwards but for some inexplicable reason the trap doesn’t seem to swallow its prey. It tries— sucks some ectoplasmic residue, hoovers up some of its slime— but the monster doesn’t get pulled in, as if it was… attached to something?

A roar echoes through the garage and everything happens at once: the trap closes, proton stream breaks and the ghost dissipates again.

You’re the first to whisper.

“…Is it…?”

“No”, Egon exhales. “It’s around here somewhere.”

“So… The trap didn’t work? Why?”

“Apparently it’s not just a ghost. It must be a complex being with some sort of material form. We may need to overpower it in a more… traditional sense.”

“Chain? Wires? Chandelier? Forget- me rod? A random hydraulic pipe of oblivion?”

Your flowery language is both a blessing and a curse. That translates into a perfect bait. Keep talking.

“So you’re opting for brute force?” Egon asks and that’s all it takes.

“Uh, I thought you were suggesting. I’d try another approach. If that guy is a marine cephalopod he may have a hard time adjusting to open air. Maybe dragging it out of the drainage will do the trick, right? Instead of streaming it, we could—"

Your mouth is still open when the giant tentacle shoots in your general direction. You let out a loud shriek and manage to evade— albeit barely— and even though Egon assumed using you as a lure would be the practical choice, he, for once, can’t stand the sight of it.

The proton rod won’t help any. Hitting you is a real threat— and it’s way more dangerous for you than the ghost. He’s about to resort to brute force but the monster steps out of the shadows and Egon can’t believe his eyes.

It’s human.

Oh, that makes things significantly easier.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a tiny bottle and charges.

A hit from behind may be cheap but it works every time. Egon swings the uncharged proton rod right into the creature’s head. It squeals, unwraps the tentacles protruding from its sleeve, then snarls and shakes its head. Egon has a few seconds to take in the entire picture: three gargantuan ectoplasmic limbs (a developing ghostly sickness?) have taken over the poor guy’s left arm. He seems dazed: his eyes are foggy, droll seeps through his teeth and for a split second Egon wonders if there’s any spiritual cancerous disease he’s failed to discover.

The hybrid lifts its arms and aims at you again, full force. Before you have the chance to scream, Egon slides right in front of you, pushes you aside and splashes some of the bottle’s contents on the monster’s face.

It howls and retracts.

“…What is that?!” You manage.

“An old trick. Handy when possessed individuals fail to be cooperative.”

Egon spots the dirty cloth still hanging on the heater. It should be dry enough. Easy to soak. Perfect.

He dashes for it, grabs it and presses it against the bottle, pouring a decent amount of the liquid on it. Heavy drops of the potent solution spill around. Tiny wet lines trickle down his gloves. He takes a deep breath, holds it and looks at the monster. It snarls. Then charges.

Egon isn’t a great fighter but he dodges just fine. He slides under the tentacles, turns around and hops on the hybrid’s back. It screeches— then stops— wet, throaty sounds stifled by the rug in Egon’s hand. He clutches the monster’s throat, squeezes it with an elbow and turns to you.

“A common tranquilizer. Learnt it during my coroner years”, he grunts, pressing the pad into its face. “You might want to find something to tie him with.”

You’re awfully quiet, staring at him blankly— but you nod. There’s a spare, long chain in Ray’s stash (nobody knows what he uses it for) so you take it and approach the scuffle with apprehension. The hybrid’s movements slow down but it’s still trying to break out of Egon’s unrelenting clutch.

“Thank you”, he says, composed as ever. “You’re doing great.”

It takes a few more seconds. The monster’s muscles eventually give in and it slides down on the floor. Its arms loosen. Eyes close. Its head hits the garage floor.

For a long moment nobody moves.

“Yo”, you whisper. Egon looks at you, then at the limp body beneath him and takes a step back.

“Sedated. Perfect.”

“What now?”

“Let’s tie it up.”

Egon reaches for the chain you’re holding. He wraps the creatures torso (making it extra tight and unnecessarily confusing around the arms— safety first) and you take care of its legs. The constraint turns out pretty solid and, most importantly, impossible to slip through by the tentacles. Once you make sure it’s sealed, each of you grabs a loose end of the chain and proceed to drag the dead weight across the floor.

It’s not exactly Buckingham Palace level of service anyway— not like you owe anybody standards— but when the monster’s back slams against a concrete pillar, you flinch.

“Oh no!— Oh dear, it hurt him—”

“It’s just tried to kill you. You do understand that, right?”

“Sort of”, you groan. “I really wanted it to warm up to us. We’ve sort of killed our chances at cooperation.”

“Don’t worry. It isn’t capable of drawing conclusions in this state.”

Egon pulls the chain and ties the creature around the pillar in an ungallant knot. It’s not his proudest work but a staple of initiative nonetheless. Links are sealed. Hostage is secured. It’s all under control.

He’s still focused on triple- checking the locks when you speak.

“Egon, why did you…?” You rub your hands together. “You… It was dangerous. Reckless. You don’t do reckless, Egon Spengler. Overcomplicated, yes, way too optimized, yes. But this, whatever you were thinking, was almost careless! You… You could’ve—”

He looks upwards. You seem anxious but you’re alive and well. He doesn’t understand.

“I could’ve what?”

“Well, I mean, you stuck your neck out for me. It could’ve been bad”, you gulp. ‘You could’ve been hurt.”

“I wasn’t though, was I?”

Egon’s at a loss. He watches you closely. You’re both okay and that’s all that matters. It’s not the first time he’s done something stupid out of fear— ah, fear, the bypass of rational thought— the Psychology classes again…

You stay silent for a moment, then sigh.

“I’ll call Peter.”

“Yes. No. Wait.” He frowns, takes off his gloves and approaches you. “Check- up first.”

“…This again? Seriously?!” You huff. “It’s, like, the third time this week! If something happened, I’d tell you immediately. I’m fine, Egon! I’m fine, you should be focused on yourself, you’re the one who went berserk for some reason I can’t wrap my head around—"

No bruises, no scratches. He touches your face, looks you in the eyes.

“It’s a precaution. I’ll make it quick. Tell me if anything hurts.”

His fingers skim over your features— cheeks, nose, forehead, temples. Your voice catches. Breath gets shuddered, eyes go frantic and cheeks are still awfully warm but it’s a natural response. Egon’s expected that much. His thumb runs across your lip, even though it looks untouched and there’s no justifiable reason to examine it closely. He just… can’t resist. Nor does he want to, really. There’s still room for excuses which get half- woven in his head but their seams are loose and each sentence falls apart before it leaves his mouth.

Egon knows he lingers too long. Needs to pull back. He doesn’t understand why his body won’t listen.

The tip of his thumb rests at the corner of your lips, then moves on to another gentle caress. Then again. And again, until you sigh. Warm breath tickles his skin. He tries it once more to check if you allow him— and you do— more than that— you melt into the touch, heat radiating from your skin, breathing deep— receptive, indulgent, responsive.

This is… inebriating.

“…You seem okay”, he concludes. “No injuries?”

“No. You?”

“None”, he says, letting his hands hang loose again. “I’ll run a few tests. Call Venkman, tell him we’ve got a subject. He should come immediately.”

“Okay. But tell me what’s going on.”

“…We’ve just caught an anomaly. As I said.”

“Not that. I see you. I notice things”, you say cautiously but he makes sure his face is as blank as ever. “You’re usually so collected. What happened?”

Egon doesn’t think it needs explanation. It’s obvious. Should be, at least. He frowns and says:

“I don’t want my friends to get hurt.”

“…After Ray?”

He nods.

A pair of soft hands brush against his jaw and in a moment— before he’s able to fully process what’s happening— his face dips down, guided by the delicate touch and you gently place your lips near his chin.

It’s a simple gesture. Gentle touch. A shadow of a kiss, lighter than Dana’s, nothing more than a brush of hot skin but— Lord, help him— he shivers— it’s so much more— it’s everything— it’s overwhelming.

“Ray is fine”, you whisper, looking at him again. “You’ll see him tomorrow, remember? It’s almost over.”

“…Again, please.”

“You’ll see him tomorrow...”

“No. Not this, the…”

It takes you a second but you get it and breathe out a laugh. Brush his jaw again, then wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a tight hug.

Oh. Oh.

His arms tentatively reach for your back and once they’re there— recognize the texture of his shirt (outlining your shape in a way he declines to register)— and he lets down his guard a bit. Tightens his grasp. Sinks into the moment. He lets his hands really feel you for the first time since the both of you’ve started accepting proximity and it frightens him beyond belief— it’s soft, welcoming, disarming and pure— so his eyes close, stiff muscles let go— anxiety abates— he’s out of breath— but all you do is hold him close, no doubt, no shame. You’re as open and affectionate as ever, a salve for his mind, a missing link. You fit right here. He’s never known a feeling like this, not even with his family.

That’s something new: his fear for your life instigates a soothing response. Highly unusual. He’ll have to write it down for future reference.

“Could we include this into the list of things we do? Under… particular circumstances, of course?”

“Sure. Whenever you need it.”

You stay like that for a moment. It’s quiet and dark. Egon relishes every breath tickling the nape of his neck, every slight fidget against his chest, every movement— and when you finally take a step back, his chest feels almost hollow. As if it’s just tasted peace and had to let go.

“You should also add a point in which you listen to me in case of immediate danger”, he says. “In a bold, red, permanent marker, preferably.”

You smile. It’s playful. Cheeky. Beautiful. Whatever anxiety you’d felt a moment ago, evaporated.

“I did cooperate, doofus! You won’t find a more flexible squire than myself.”

“Flexible tends to mean obedient”, he raises an eyebrow. “When I say you fall back, you do.”

“When you require assistance, I help! That’s literally in my agreement. I signed the paper, you have no say in this, Spengler.”

“Spenglers are a team. And, when faced with danger, have to be unanimous.”

“You’re right!” You give him your finger guns and turn to the reception desk. “See? We’ve just agreed and it’s that easy!”

He smirks.

“Call Venkman.”

“Ai, ai, Sir!”

He watches you pick up the phone and dial Peter’s number. A few beeps later your voice fades into a mumble of funny noises.

When he turns towards the hybrid, he notices another curious thing: the tentacles seem to deflate and seep into a bile of ectoplasmic goo.

He must take a sample immediately. Ray is going to love this.

#ghostbusters #egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #egon spengler x you #fanfiction #egon spengler imagines #self insert #ghostbusters fanfiction #ao3 #harold ramis #self ship #self indulgent #happy easter

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nastylittleghouls · 4 months

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A Hazy Shade Of Winter

Relationship(s): Aether/Aeon, Aether/Dewdrop, implied Aether/Dewdrop/Aeon

Rating: Mature (to be safe)

Words: 2501

Summary: The first snow is always special. Aether takes it upon himself to show Aeon its joys as he knows it can hit differently for quintessence ghouls.

Warnings: brief mention of blood/death related to events before they were summoned during an anxiety episode on Aeon's side. Aether is affected too but guides them both safely out of it.

Notes: I haven't written anything in years and this was supposed to be a cute little ficlet to stick to my plans to be more creative again. Somehow, it ran away with me. I don't think it turned out too bad so, after careful consideration and battling my inner demons, I decided to share it. Please excuse my rustiness and thank you for reading! <3 The title is from a song by Simon & Garfunkel. The endearment Aether uses for Aeon is Irish Gaelic and means little bear.

AO3 LINK for the so inclined (Aeon is called Phantom there because I am STILL torn on the name. e_e)

The sun is barely kissing the horizon when Aether nuzzles Aeon awake, tells him “It’s time”, in a hushed whisper close against his ear. Aeon turns to curl into him, only to end up cuddling the lukewarm fur at the edge of the nest. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up with the smallest of winces and gives himself a moment to collect himself. Lets himself bathe in the toasty warm glow of oil lamps and the rekindled fireplace.

In Dewdrop’s presence next to him, hogging the nest and snuffling in his sleep. Unashamed and unfairly beautiful. Here, right now, Aeon feels like he is too, still riding the heights of having been welcomed between these two.

Ultimately, in Aether’s gaze. Affectionate. Appreciative. Aeon feels the urge to preen, maybe show off a little. Instead, he ends up following Aether‘s thick yet nimble fingers as they button up his shirt. How can he not?

Admittedly, he’s mourning his cozy spot tucked against Aether’s bare side already. The intoxicating scent of him and Dew mingled with his own. That he could stuff his face into his armpit and just block everything else out except for them and the ache in his body from last night. Just a bit, though. Watching Aether getting ready makes up for it, despite it being horribly distracting from his own task of getting up and giving him ideas of either pulling the other ghoul back into the nest or, even better, getting on his knees for him right then and there to continue his worship.

Both options would probably wake Dew up and ruin Aether‘s valid effort to let him sleep. Tempting but not worth the aftermath. Not today. It would probably cost him nest privileges. Dew doesn’t fuck around with that. Never mind that this isn’t even his nest. He just has Aether wrapped around his claws. All nine and a half of them.

Aether is smirking by the time Aeon finally looks up at his face again, nodding encouragingly towards the end of the nest.

There are fresh clothes already waiting for him, soft and thick and neatly laid out within reach. Even his new acquisition, a long scarf, that he had watched Cumulus and Sunshine working on in the common room quite often after the tour ended, to finish it before the first frost set in. He had not known the purpose of it back then and had called it a ribbon noodle until they had explained it all to him.

Seeing it grow, stitch row after stitch row had been fascinating. Not only had it made him want to be able to do that as well. It had made him feel like it was him that was ultimately being woven tighter into the patchwork that was this pack. His home.

Another whisper pulls him out of his musings.

„C‘mon, béirín. You‘ll need clothes for this kind of fun“

And that’s more than enough for the spark to ignite a flame of excitement inside him as well. Aether has never led him astray when it comes to introducing him to new topside things but it’s the endearment that holds the most importance to him at this moment. It makes him happily drum his fingers on his thigh before he’s rudely interrupted by the end of Dew’s tail smacking him in the face. It’s light, but he sends, an apparently now semi-awake, Dew a pout as he finally gets dressed anyway. He’s just. He has been waiting, not so patiently, for Aether to finally choose one for him. Of course, Dewdrop can’t relate.

Before they leave, Aether brushes a kiss against Dew‘s temple. It earns him a sleepy smile and a scritching for his sideburns in response. Which, in turn, elicits a low purr out of Aether. As his heart skips a few beats at the sight, Aeon can‘t decide which one of them he‘d rather be.

Snickering as if they’re doing something forbidden, they sneak through the still quiet hallways of the abbey, past the other Ghouls' rooms, towards the wooden door that leads into the courtyard. Aether stops to properly loop the scarf around Aeon’s neck, affectionately chuffing at him when he goes up on his tiptoes to bump their horns together.

Aeon relishes the moment until the very second Aether pulls away.

Heavy snowfall greets them as Aether pushes the heavy door open with his shoulder. As expected, he feels Aeon stiffen. Recoiling into the safety of Aether’s side, eyes squeezed shut. Their mental connection stutters, shuts down then reopens. Aether is prepared, a large hand placed over Aeon's lower back and his heart. Fingers splayed wide and grounding over the small frame, his quintessence beckoning Aeons and entwining with it protectively again once it found its way.

He knows what this sight does to new ghouls, first and foremost to the quintessence kin.

The sunrise painting white snow in red too similar to the blood and ash of fallen kin. The Heavenly Wars. The destruction of quintessence beings. The last scene before their eyes as the void claims back what Lucifer burrowed. If unfortunate, forever lost.

Aeon’s reaction infiltrates Aether’s vessel's nervous system like electricity and drags parts of his own long-forgotten fear to the surface again, as irrational as he knows it is. Makes his healed wounds burn anew. Gives him the illusion of putrid fumes invading his nostrils before he can reign himself back in again for both of their sakes.

Own up to his responsibility as one of the pack leaders. The blind trust Aeon extends towards him.

He’s fine. Has to be. For them.

“Timor mortis conturbat me,” Aether murmurs as he moves them forward, one of his hands seeking the outline of the pendants hanging low on his chest, buried under the thick wool of his cloak. One, unarguably the most important one, holds fragments of Dew’s horns. The before and after. A reminder of the strength and protection of a mate freely given.

He taps his next words into Aeon’s mind, not wanting to disturb the quiet around them. Maybe not trusting his voice either. It could crack and give out after all. All too weak.

“I’m here. Deep Inhale, deep exhale. I want to feel your body move with it”

He takes his advice as well. On the next exhale, synced with the smaller ghoul’s, Aether’s eyes close too, and with it, he finds his voice again. Even manages to put a smile into it.

“We’re safe. This is just snow, the very one we told you about. Listen to it fall”

His hands move up, putting the lightest pressure on the outer shell of Aeon’s ears with his thumbs, rubbing the pads over the edges. The pointed tips. They flick wildly under his ministrations before they still again and the smaller ghoul relaxes against him just slightly with an audible sigh.

It‘s the reaction that he was aiming for and again he moves his hands and tips Aeon’s face up towards the rapidly falling snow, keeping his fingerpads there to stroke light circles along his jaw.

”Feel it tickle your skin. How fluffy it is. Just like Lus’ hair”

Numerous seconds tick by before Aeon’s dulled-down quintessence aura blooms back into full force.

When Aether chances a look at the smaller ghoul, his eyes are open again as he finally takes his surroundings in without his fear overshadowing his excitement. Aether could swear he was even wearing the same awed facial expression Dew had worn, that Aether must have worn too when Omega had introduced them to this wonderful earthen spiel.

He snorts slightly, amused when Aeon goes cross-eyed at the sight of their breath fogging up in front of him, swatting at it with his hand as if he’s not sure what to make of it before letting out a curious chirp and slowly extracts himself from Aether’s side. Not without a cautious glance back to reassure himself once more that he is safe. Protected. Then he visibly shakes the remaining shadows of the past off and starts sliding through the snow, twirling carefree around himself, open-mouthed trying to catch the snow on his forked tongue.

The utter confusion when it doesn‘t pile up but melts is not lost on Aether. It reminds him of the raccoon trying to wash cotton candy that he and Rain had discovered while they were both sick and stuck in bed for a week.

It would be a shame if this wouldn’t find its way to Rain too for him to appreciate, wouldn’t it? But just as he reaches into his pocket, the younger ghoul trips over his tail while chasing it, limbs flailing in all directions, and falls into a snowbank. Face first, arms and legs starfished around him.

It’s quite deep, Aether can only see a Aeon-shaped immersion with his butt sticking out in the otherwise surprisingly pristine snow. It‘s a perfect still life, he thinks. Original oil on canvas. Aether titles it, tail as old as time' since Aeon's tail, the cause of it all, is curled like a piglet’s against his body. The Church of Satan will take your bids now.

“Fuck, that’s cold”.

Aether tries not to laugh. Attempts to look up into the falling snow, bite down on his bottom lip but it’s futile. Barks of laughter burst out of him with short, helpless sounds in between.

Aeon‘s tail swishes back and forth with them, bouncing like a coil spring, which sets Aether off even harder, tearing up a little. Until a muffled, yet high-pitched “Aeth. Help” reaches his ears and he quickly makes his way over, rolling the other ghoul onto his back.

„You okay?“

Aeon looks up at him with slitted eyes as he attempts to blow at the snow stuck on his face then his upper body shoots up, grabs, and pulls Aether down right on top of himself.

The cursed element of surprise.

They roll through the snow, their laughter and the occasional curse so loud that they’re probably waking the whole abbey up. Their tails lash playfully as they try to shove each other into the white cold - Aether‘s joints will make him pay for this later- until Aether finally realizes what Aeon is trying to accomplish. He isn’t trying to win or end up on top, he’s enjoying the way Aether’s body is pressing him down into the snow again and again. The way he covers him completely. Eyes shining brighter with every turn.

Aether boops the younger ghoul’s red nose when a higher slope forces them to a stop, about to give Aeon space to breathe when their laughter tapers off into them just grinning goofily at each other. Thinks about suggesting they make their way back inside to warm up with hot chocolate and pancakes to round this experience off. The temperature is affecting his protege by now if the shivers he’s trying to hide are anything to go by.

As soon as he realizes Aether’s intention, Aeon reaches up to pull the bigger Ghoul down into a kiss. He aims for sweet but ends up desperate. Aether allows it. Indulges him for a while by letting him lead. Humms with the wet slide of their tongues, then tips his head to a sharper angle, guiding Aeon’s enthusiasm into something slow and deep.

Aeon’s breath catches mid-moan with the intensity of it.

Slender arms wind themselves around Aether's shoulders, clinging. Keeping. Legs fall open wider in invitation, hips grinding his still sensitive cock up against Aether‘s with little gasps, boldly asking for more. For anything Aether is willing to give him. He’d let him take him right there. Wants him to. The wetness and cold that is seeping more and more into his body be damned. He just wants to feel that closeness and give himself over again.

I’m here. Please see me. Feel me. Let me be yours too.

„You could warm me up with something else,“ Aeon manages in between. It‘s cheesy, accompanied by the dorkiest eyebrow wriggle Aether has seen in his long life. A salute to Swiss influence, no doubt.

„Is that so?“

It doesn’t sound like a question. The mirth in Aether's words is a stark contrast to the heated look in his eyes. He should reprimand Aeon for mind snooping and not reward him with another kiss. But how can temptation not get the best of him when …

Fate doesn’t want him to finish that thought. A snowball hits Aether square on the back of his head, and he looks up, alarmed. A little confused.

Dew is leaning against the door frame, clad in nothing but one of Aether’s hoodies and knee-high socks that reveal a sliver of creamy skin every time he switches feet to protect them somewhat from the cold floor, regarding them with a mischievous smirk.

It’s betrayed by how his eyes are still unguarded from sleep, and the love Aether knows is always there. It‘s a look to be alluring, and it works every time. Dew knows how weak Aether is for him wearing his clothes, how stunning he looks, made obvious once more by Dew quirking a knowing eyebrow at him when their eyes meet and the demanding tug at their bond.

How long has Dew been watching them?

Aether smiles too sweetly down at Aeon when he whines, traps his still twitching hips with his thigh, and affectionately ruffles his hair. Mouths 'stay still' at him while he banters with an entirely unbothered Dewdrop. Aeon doesn‘t hear much of it, just happily gets lost in the touch, a shaky breath that he can thankfully pass off as being cold, leaving him. Aether’s attention being divided once more makes Aeon already miss having it entirely to himself. It’s rare. Too rare.

“Get the fuck back inside then. I’ll warm you up alright”.

It's the first thing he consciously hears Dew say before Aether pulls himself up. His grabby hands are not fast enough to stop Aether and he can’t stop the utterly sad sound that leaves him at the realization. “Now he acts like I’d leave him all by himself, “Aether teases with a chuckle and helps Aeon to his feet as well, patting the snow from his clothes. Aeon remembers to return the favor, subtly turning his head to look for Dew. The spot he had occupied is empty, the door closed again. Probably back in Aether’s warm nest already.

When Aether walks back towards the building, Aeon lingers, looking down at the spot they just laid in again. The indents they left are already filling back up with a fresh layer of snowflakes. 'Snow’s pretty rad', he decides as he adjusts himself in his damp pants with the heel of his hand to get at least a little bit of relief, before finally catching up with Aether, ducking under the already raised arm to let him pull him against his side. Good boys can wait.

“So, about that hot chocolate…..”

#Aether Ghoul #Phantom Ghoul #Aeon Ghoul #Dewdrop Ghoul #nameless ghouls #Dewther #Aether/Phantom #Aether/Dewdrop/Phantom #Aether/Dewdrop #Ghost band fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #Mighty Feathers

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justsome-di · 1 month

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The Fairest of All Stars: Chapter 3

Andy didn’t mean to become a pirate captain, but after killing the captain of her ship, she finds herself thrust into the role. Years after the incident, she is fierce and feared and recovering from a tropical fever that wiped out half her crew.

Just as they’re about to dock, they find an injured siren left behind by her choir. Andy, drawn to her, pulls her onto the ship and decides to keep her there until she recovers. But with the Navy hunting for both pirates and sirens, Andy has just made her ship an even bigger target for an iniquitous captain looking for revenge.

Warning for suicidal thoughts and violence. Will contain mature scenes.

Also available for free on Patreon (paid members are five installments ahead and will get exclusive bonus stories) and on AO3. If you enjoy reading Stars please consider leaving a comment on AO3, Patreon, or reblogging these chapters! Follow for more updates!

Andy choked on the taste of her father’s tobacco, coughing herself awake as it seized her chest. She felt his fingers in her hair. He pulled it off her forehead and laid a cold cloth in its place. His hands, like always, were calloused and dry. They scraped against her skin—not painfully, just hard enough that she could remember the sensation after he moved his hand away.

When Andy opened her eyes, her father disappeared. It was Joseph next to her. Tending to her.

Her cabin was dim. It was still night. Few lights were lit. And she remembered how she put herself in such a sorry state. The cold water, the frigid rocks she had knelt on. Her hands burned from pulling fishing net off scales. Her body was chilled all the way through still.

Andy’s father told her stories of sirens. Her mother didn’t approve of them. She said that sirens were nothing but monsters made up by drunk, bored sailors and that the British Navy was only pretending to have them to boost their own prestige. It was just something to hold over the colonies’ heads. Something to scare them. Until she saw one with her own eyes, she wouldn’t believe that they were real.

But Andy’s father would let her sit up with him, late at night. He would tell her the stories just as his crewmates told them, blowing smoke up to the ceiling from his pipe.

“He said his grandfather almost caught one. He said he swept one up on his boat by accident, but he let her go.”

“Aren’t you supposed to sell sirens?”

“You don’t have to. He could have gotten a pretty penny for her, but he got something better. He got to marvel at this thing, alone. He got to go home and be the only man in his village to have seen a siren. It was like he kept her for himself. And that was worth more than any money, Andrea.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Oh, she was as beautiful as his mother, his wife, and his daughter combined.”

Her father drew crude sketches for her. The top half of the creatures were always women, and the bottoms were always fish. Their scales were so beautiful, they reflected light like a rainbow, he said. And their faces were always the most well-sculpted any man had ever seen.

In his drawings, their hair flowed long behind them. Their arms were long. Their breasts bare. At the time, it had made Andy’s stomach flutter. She traced the sketches with her fingers as her father went on.

“But you shouldn’t get close to one. Not if you can help it.”

“Why not?”

“They can be temperamental things. For every man that gets to walk away, another three get pulled into the water.”

“What happens to them?”

“Well, we don’t know. They can’t come back up and tell us, can they? I was told the sirens eat them.”

“But then how do people sell them to the British? People have caught them, haven’t they?”

“They get lucky. Or they get cruel.”

If only her father could have watched her pull a siren out of the middle of the ocean. It would have been a grand story to tell him. She would have told it to him just like he told his stories, blowing out smoke from between her lips and holding out her hands to show just how big the siren was.

Her tail was this long. Her shoulders this wide. Her hands this flat.

Joseph laid his hand over Andy’s cheek. When she opened her eyes again, not realizing they had fluttered shut, she could barely see him sitting at her side.

Her bones felt like they had shattered inside her. If she moved even an inch, pain shot through every joint and limb.

Joseph fell into the shadows around them. He slipped in and out of her vision as yellow light swung back and forth.

There was a lantern—a spot of light—hanging from the ceiling that seemed to be a mile away. At the end of the long stretch of room was a fainting couch stolen from some fancy naval captain. It was old now. The cushions had lost volume. Besides that, it took up an obnoxious amount of space. But it was one of Andy’s favorite trophies, so she kept it. There was little else to do with it, anyway.

Andy’s eyes strained to focus on it. There was a lump on top of the couch.

She squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, her eyes were covered in just a little less tears and grime. The edges of her vision were a little less blurred. The couch came into focus.

The siren was wrapped up in a ratty blanket. She was unconscious and gagged with a rag between her teeth, tied up behind her head.

Andy tried holding her hand toward her. Her arm fell out of her bed, and she groaned in pain. One finger uncurled in the direction of the siren as every nerve inside her seized and lit themselves on fire.

Joseph took her wrist and tucked her arm back by her side.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “You’ve relapsed.”

Joseph owned a dirty, old Gladstone. The leather was discolored and cracked so badly that flakes of leather were starting to fall off every time he opened and shut it. He dug into it now to pull out jars of salve.

He scooped a generous amount into his hand and began rubbing it into Andy’s bare shoulders. Joseph worked it into her skin and then moved down to her elbows, then her wrists, then her hands. The smell choked Andy. It reminded her of being so ill only weeks ago, laid up in bed all greased up and unable to do so much as blink without being in excruciating pain. She had been covered in the salve for nights, and she had no memory of whether it helped or not.

He was loyal, Andy had to hand it to him. During her first bout of illness, he always seemed to be by her side. If she ever woke up to him gone, she didn’t have to wait long before he showed up.

Joseph bled her regularly—which she despised but could not complain much about—and took her temperature so often that Andy’s tongue felt sore from his thermometer. He would talk to her, tell her that he needed to find more medical supplies when they docked. There was only so much he could get his hands on anymore, but with some extra money, he hinted at Andy, he would be able to get some decent stock.

Andy had wheezed out a laugh. She told him that if she survived, he could have a larger share of their money. There wasn’t much, but he could buy whatever an extra coin could get him.

Joseph pulled Andy’s bed sheets from her. He began working on her ankles and moved up her legs until he reached her hips. His calloused hands massaged around her waist and swept briefly around her crotch. To be a gentleman, still, surely.

His hands were warm. The salve was warm, too, but it tangled up and hardened in her hair.

“Stay put,” Joseph told her, screwing the lid back on the salve. “If you move, you’ll only make yourself more ill.”

He covered her with her bed sheets. He had such a good bedside manner. It made Andy sick. What a shit pirate. She had only brought him on board so he could dig bullets out of them. Not to be tender. Andy almost hated it.

Joseph stood and moved to the siren’s side. Andy followed him with her eyes only. He had a funny way of walking, she thought, bemused. Old joints tightened up in the cold, and his gait was similar to that of a toddler.

The siren, surely, wasn’t dead. If she were, the crew wouldn’t have dumped her in Andy’s cabin. They would have dumped her overboard before she began to decay. The less trouble and cargo, the better.

Unless Tobi was cooking up some scheme for her corpse. The body could be given to the Navy. Just in case they ran into trouble. The Navy would accept sirens dead or alive, they were always so desperate for something. The awards were very handsome, and every year merchants and fishermen packed extra fishing nets and ropes and claimed themselves perfectly capable of snagging a siren.

But there were few confirmed cases of anyone actually selling one. There were maybe one or two caught every half-century. A handful of hoaxes cropped up here and there—fake corpses made of paper and clay, mutilated carp combined with hair from barbers.

In a better state of mind, Andy would be able to think of all of this and come to the conclusion that she had a rare treasure on her ship.

But her eyes were slipping shut, and her brain seemed to be boiling in her skull. What she really thought in that moment was that she wasn’t going to give that siren over to the Navy. No matter the price. No matter any pardon or immunity it could give her as a pirate in an emergency.

“Don’t give her up,” she tried saying, but her voice was rough and weak. She could barely hear herself, and her throat was tearing itself to shreds.

“What was that, captain?”

Pinkey knelt in front of her with her only briefly wondering how he materialized out of thin air. He leaned in close to her, his ear close to her lips.

“Don’t give her up,” Andy repeated.

“The siren?” Pinkey asked. “Don’t worry, sir, I’m guarding her with my own life. If anyone wants her, they’ll have to get through me. And it’s not all that easy to get through me—you know that.”

It was maybe the only time Andy appreciated hearing such a thing from her crew. Such cockiness. Pinkey wasn’t so bad. Whatever kinship he felt for the siren, Andy would exploit it.

Because she, too, wouldn’t let anyone get to that siren. That beautiful monster lying in the same room as her—Andy would fight to keep her by her side.

#the fairest of all stars #writing #writblr #writeblr #writing community #sapphic fantasy #sapphic romance

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hellboundwrites · 5 months

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Ghouls ships and how they love

Ifrit and Zephyr : Burning Love

Their love is, to this day, the warmest.

Ifrit and Zephyr started as friends, just bandmates being put together in an exclusive project that would link all five of the ghouls together for the rest of their existence. But when they hit the road on that tour together... Oh, things changed forever.

In the beginning, they all enjoyed nice evenings as a band, smoking and chatting on hotel balconies until a contagious yawn would spread around the group. But Ifrit and Zephyr could both feel a pull between them that pushed them to linger there after everyone went to sleep.

Those nights, when they'd found themselves alone, they'd talk until the wind outside would turn cold and they inevitably had to get closer for comfort. They'd share a cigarette - Ifrit pointing a flame on his index towards where it would lie between Zephyr's lips.

They were both older, mature ghouls - Zephyr a little bit more than Ifrit. They had had their fair share of experiences in the past. There was no mystery with what was happening between them. But they both had had enough fun before to want to be serious this time around. For only a few weeks they danced like this around each other, waiting to see who'd be the first to fall.

And Zephyr did. He was often in pain, and Ifrit's fire had soothed his body many times before on these late and cold evenings. He owed it to him to make the first move, a simple slow kiss that quickly turned into a frenetic rush to his hotel room.

They kept it private. Not that it was a secret, but they were the oldest among the rest of the band, and they were over being glued to each other like young lovers. They had no time to disperse (as it would be expected from them).

However, pretending to be focused and mature about it made it all the more fun.

They cannot recount how many times their eyes burnt at the sight of the other, waiting and waiting for the show to end, for the night to finally come.

The only times when Zephyr's muscles weren't tight and screaming for rest were when he was in Ifrit's arms or Ifrit was in his. They'd slide into the other's room in the middle of the night, crashing into each other's mouth, with just the right amount of force to push the other against a wall, tearing their clothes away to find dark skin and greying hair to touch.

Even after months like this, after playing the same game over and over, they did not lose their flame. The tour came to its end eventually, and they each expected some change to happen between them with the slower schedule and the monotonous environment of the abbey. But they were yearning just the same, if not more with all the additional time on their hands.

What was supposed to be just a pause between eras and tours turned into a long period of discovery. Ifrit wanted to find every way he could break the tension in Zephyr's body, and Zephyr was just amazed by how much Ifrit knew and how strategically gentle he could be even with his stature.

Their love wasn't just pure desire. It was complicity, and a mutual sense of perfect timing. There was so much that could be said in looks and touches. They could breathe each other's air and still not get relief from how much they longed and wanted. After an existence of ordinary partners, they had finally found one that shared the same pace.

A bit before all the papacy trouble at the abbey, they decided, despite still being on the program with Aether, Mountain and Dew, that the Project could continue without them.

Don't ask where they are now. Retired, somewhere in Hell. In a little space of their own, where there's no distraction from each other.

Because love sometimes is learning to appreciate the simpler things.

There's no necessity in chasing glory when all you need is someone by your side to keep you warm.

Part 1. Rain and Dewdrop

Part 2. Cirrus and Cumulus

Part 3. Mountain and Swiss

Find me on AO3

#ghost band #fanfic #fic #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #headcanon #ao3 fanfic #ifrit ghoul #zephyr ghoul #fire ghoul #chair ghoul #ifrit/Zephyr #Zephyr/Ifrit #Ifrit x Zephyr #Zephyr x Ifrit #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghoul #hellboundfics

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peachywise · 2 years

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Lessons in Honesty

steve harrington x reader

chapter 1

– other chapters: part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5 ⋆ part 6 ⋆ part 7 ⋆ part 8

– synopsis: Being Robin Buckley’s younger sibling had always been uneventful, up until she got herself tangled with Steve Harrington. And really, you were happy for her. She deserved friends. What was bothersome was when he got let in on small secrets like your infatuation with Eddie Munson, and decided to take it into his own hands to try and get him to pay attention to you-- by pretending to be your boyfriend.

– notes: it has been a long time since i have written fan fiction but here i am!! my dumbass loves a fake-dating plot and i couldn’t resist. i hope to update this pretty regularly, and i post here and under the same username on ao3. i think i’m going to continue to post this as a reader insert and then do an alternative version that’s with an oc (because i can and reader insert series mess with my brain) BUT here’s to hoping y’all enjoy it!! read here or on ao3 _____________________________

“Stop staring, dweeb.”

The voice cut through a fraction of your brain fog. Not enough to draw your attention away from your current pin-pointed focus, but certainly enough that some semblance of normal thought would have eventually trickled back in. You know, had it not been for the second later when an arm cut across your vision and someone flicked you on the forehead. Patience was never your sister’s virtue.

Still, it did shock you enough out of the stupid little reverie you had fallen into that had been going on for a good five minutes. It was probably better she busted the daydream before someone else caught you and thought you were someone’s lobotomy patient left without supervision.

“Christ, Robin!” You huffed, slapping away her hand as she gave you an indignant look. It was distraction enough that you managed to flick her right back on the forehead right after. Maturity was never your virtue.

“That was a lot harder than I did it,” she argued back, already trying to thwack you once again.

It quickly became a sitting wrestling match as you tried to capture each other’s arms, biting low insults at one another as it went along. You finally managed to yank Robin’s arm down and back to her side, head twisting fast to see if anyone was watching the scuffle. Thankfully not. There was already so much commotion between the football idiots trying to knock soda cans off one another’s heads by throwing a spiral. They probably weren’t even trying to hit the can anymore with how much harder they laughed when the ball slammed into someone’s face instead. I mean— It was kinda funny.

“I sat beside you, and you didn’t even notice me. Do you think that if you stare long enough, it will intimidate Eddie’s clothes into falling off his body?”

The instinctual hand that slapped over her mouth at that moment might have been loud enough to draw some attention if it wasn’t so perfectly timed with the loud smack that came from the football hitting someone in the face again. Divine intervention at its finest.

“You don’t have to say every thought that pops into your head,” you whispered harshly, eyes still nervously darting around just to double-check no one had heard. Your only solace was that you hadn’t decided to sit at a closer table to Eddie, who was far out of earshot halfway across the quad.

“Tell me about it,” offered a new voice from directly behind you. Shock and surprise rolled through your body as if electrocuted, eyes widening as a familiar figure sat opposite you at the picnic table. “The other day, she was complaining about how annoying it is that your mom tells embarrassing stories about you both to company, but then lets it slip in the same sentence that she wet the bed until she was nine.” Robin must have kicked Steve’s shin under the table because he let out an even more dramatic “Ow!” than you thought him capable of.

“What, did they realize they made a mistake in letting you graduate and rescind your diploma?” You asked him, probably a bit more snippy of a greeting than usual, given that you were still red-faced and deflated from Robin’s mental attack.

Robin gave a short snort at how Steve reared his head back an inch, his floppy hair moving with him like its own appendage. “Ignore them. They’re just mad Eddie Munson doesn’t know they exist.”

You always thought choking on water was something only people on television did when they were shocked. Turns out, It was very much an honest reaction and one you could do simply with your own spit. “I hope you trip over your own feet and the doctors have to wire your jaw shut,” you breathed out, covering your heating face with your hands as you tossed your head back, wishing you were anyway else. And by anywhere, you meant that in the truest sense there was. Let the footballers whisk you away and use your face as target practice instead.

“Munson? You like Eddie’ The Freak’ Munson?” Steve sputtered back. You were thankful that he didn’t just laugh in your face instead, like when Robin found out. You still felt the phantom feeling of her spit flying on your face when she did. Then again, maybe laughter wasn’t the worst reaction. When you removed your hands from your face and saw the genuine look of astonishment and confusion cross his features, brows furrowed, head slightly cocked to the side and studying you as if you were the freak, you began to wonder if you’d prefer the slice of a chuckle and not the hammer of a disappointed and alienating stare. “So you’ll joke about me never graduating— which I did, they can’t just take that back— but find that a desirable trait in Eddie? You do realize he was held back for two years.” As if his own words finally hit his ears, he screwed his face up like he smelled something bad. “Jesus, dude is like twenty years old.”

“I never said it was logical, okay?” you huffed back, folding your arms over your chest, then unfolding them, feeling too restless and itchy at the scrutinization your sister and her idiot friend were putting you through. “I know it’s not going to happen—known that since I was a freshman and joined the Hellfire Club. You can both let it go now.”

You’re a Junior now, and Eddie still treats you the same as if you were a wandering lost puppy he pitied and took in. You kind of were back as a freshman. No friends, not really anyone to talk to other than Robin, wandering around aimlessly in the hallways like the least scary ghost there was, given how many people tried to walk through you. You’d prefer outward avoidance to that. Still, things were different now. Maybe your only friends were members of the Hellfire Club, but at least you’d ranked up from lost puppy to social pariah but with a decent backbone. Eddie, however, clearly didn’t see it that way. His nickname of pipsqueak stuck and has followed you since. Sometimes, he shortens it to Pip, which would be fine if half the student population didn’t think that actually was your name. Some didn’t even believe you when you corrected them.

Robin raised her hands up in surrender, which was bullshit if you’ve ever seen it. “Whatever. Look, I’ve got band practice, so you have to walk home by yourself. Tell Mom to remember to leave the leftovers in the fridge this time, okay? I don’t want to accidentally eat a fly like last time because she left my plate out.” She said that with so much ease as she stood up and walked away, acting as if she hadn’t behaved like someone sprinkled rat poison on her tongue when it happened. It was pretty gross, to be fair. Just thinking about it made you mentally gag and reach for a toothbrush.

“I’ll be fine,” you called out, the same time Steve let out a disgusted mangled noise that sounded halfway between a dog trying to get a stuck piece of kibble out of its throat and a baby trying to say their first words. You stood up from the bench and swung your backpack over one shoulder.

Steve’s voice cut off your movement when you began to walk away. “Hey, let me drive you home. Your sister made me come all the way here to drop off her trumpet she left in my car. I’m already acting like a glorified errand boy today.”

You gave a short, breathy laugh, eyebrow raised. “Just today?” You asked teasingly. That got you an eye roll. “I’m good. Robin just acts like this town is more dangerous than it is. I assure you, a walk by myself will not kill me.” She’s had a tendency to hover lately. And by association, so did Steve, though you just assumed it’s because you were hanging out with Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max lately, and he had that weird sort of older brother/fifth-wheel type relationship with them. You also assumed it had something to do with Nancy. A lot of what Steve did had to do with Nancy.

“Are all you Buckley’s this painfully stubborn? Just get in the damn car,” he fought back with as much patience as your sister had. Which, as stated earlier, is none at all.

“Steve, it’s fine.“ At this point, you were arguing back merely on some screwed-up principle. You might have gotten farther with it had Steve not stalked next to you and yanked your backpack from your shoulder, already walking off towards the parking lot with conceited expectations that you would fall in line and trail behind him.

You did. He had your bag.

At least you managed to snag one last glance at Eddie as you walked past.

“Has anyone ever told you that your bossy?” You muttered under your breath as you stopped at the familiar burgundy brown BMW that your sister had begun to use as her personal taxi. He tossed your bag into the back once he slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning over the center console to push open the passenger door you waited by.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have bad taste in men?” He supplied back, putting the key in the ignition when you slammed the door shut.

“Don’t start,” you said, staring at him heavily annoyed as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m not even as bad as you. Everyone sees the way you pine after Nancy.”

His head snapped so fast to look at you that you quickly smacked his arm to remind him to keep his eyes on the road. “Everyone does not— I don’t *pine* after Nancy, okay? I get it. She’s with Jonathan. We’re friends.”

“Friends who want to—”

“Don’t start.”

Alright. Fair.

Still, it was hard to believe the whole friend’s thing, not only because of the looks Steve gave Nancy, but the ones you saw her give him behind his back. Jonathan wasn’t here. He was in California. And whether or not Nancy just gave Steve lingering looks that were remnants of the past, there were moments you wondered if that was just it. Robin surely didn’t. She was pro-Steve and Nancy all the way. You were shocked she hadn’t already made embarrassing T-shirts about it.

“Don’t let Robin pollute your thoughts,” Steve broke the silence, a more quiet seriousness passing over his concentrated face. “She thinks there’s still something there, but there isn’t. Probably because all these dates I’ve been on lately have all gone to shit. I think Nancy even stares at me with pity about it too.” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he ran his other in a frustrated motion over his jaw. “It’s annoying. I wish everyone would get off my back about the whole thing.”

“Well, why not just tell them you’re seeing someone? Not like it has to be anyone in Hawkins. Dustin’s got that long-distance girlfriend of his.” It was easy enough to lie about that sort of thing, right?

Steve gave an unamused snort. “Yeah, like Robin will just let that one slide. She’ll see right through it.”

“Then just ask someone to pretend to be your girlfriend for a while. I’m sure plenty of people are lining up just to have a shot with the late, great Steve Harrington, even if it isn’t real,” you joked, though it was true. You’d never really talked to him before he became friends with Robin, but you remembered him from the hallways last year. Heard his name bounce around girl’s lips too often to ignore it.

“Thanks for that,” he muttered in return, hand gripping his steering wheel tightly as he went quiet once more. You shrugged, turning your attention to the window as you watched your neighbourhood come into view. Playgrounds, bright red fire hydrants, trees with tire swings hanging off thick branches. Yeah. Truly a terrifying small town if you ever saw one.

“But maybe you’re on to something.”

Of course, you were on to something. You may be hopeless sometimes, but you were actually pretty clever—

“Why don’t you date me?”

It was a good thing you weren’t the one driving. You would have crashed the car. He would have deserved it.

“You can just drop me off here,” you replied, reaching for the handle, thinking the best option in this scenario was to tuck and roll out of the car. Steve grabbed your wrist before you could. Damn.

“I don’t mean for real, smart ass. But think about it. It would solve my problem, and maybe even yours too.”

You turned back to look at him with a face that read, ‘maybe they should have taken away your diploma, after all.’ “And what problem do you see me facing?”

“Eddie. Eddie’s your problem. You want him to notice you, right? Jerk off’s never been my fan, and it probably annoys the shit out of him that I hang around Henderson and the other idiots. Add you to that equation, mixed in with a guy’s stupid need to have something they can’t have, and he’ll want to be dating you in no time.”

Huh.

“It’s surprising you were never a mathlete in school with logic like that.”

“Can you be serious for a second?” Steve pleaded back at you, turning into your driveway as he did. Even though you were home, you didn’t think getting out of this car was going to be any easier at that moment than it was any earlier.

“I am being serious!” You replied back, a small laugh escaping you at the absolute absurdity. You wouldn’t be shocked if this was just some elaborate prank set up by Robin to pay you back for ruining her favourite sweater a week ago. It was a bit overkill, but you had to appreciate the effort. “You’re the one not being serious. No one would even believe it anyway.”

Steve gave an oddly offended look. “And why wouldn’t anyone believe it? What, you’d never stoop so low?” Jesus, here he was, putting words in your mouth already.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I mean you would never stoop so low. What, the holy ex-basketball player dating his best friend’s little sibling who spends most of their days drawing alone or playing Dungeons and Dragons? Doesn’t exactly scream your type.”

He opened his mouth to argue back, judging by the narrowed look of his brows but decided to drop whatever it was. He deflated with a sigh into his seat, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I-“ he paused again. “That’s not true, alright? Can you just think about it?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, studying him and trying to understand why he was being so pushy with it. You could see how his predicament was bothersome. You’ve been on the receiving end of Robin’s persistent nagging countless times. But there was probably more to it than that if you were to bet. If Steve was so willing to sell himself out to try and make Eddie jealous, chances are he was hoping that using you would do the same for Nancy. He could deny it all he wanted, but there was still a hang-up there.

“Fine.” You relented, Steve’s hand immediately dropping from his face as he sat up perfectly straight like an obedient child just being told they could have one treat. You held up your hand to tamper it down. “Fine, I’ll think about it. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Turning back around to grab your backpack, you opened your door and slipped out of the car. Steve leaned over the seat and reached for the handle. You thought he would shut it and just be done with it, but he surprised you by saying, “don’t take too long. You don’t have to play hard to get with me,” with an infuriating smirk.

And then he shut the door in your face.

#stranger things #st #st4 #stranger things season 4 #steve harrington #joe keery #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve harringston fanfiction #stever harrington x reader #st fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #st fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

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leajdh · 10 months

Text

Gold rush

Chapter two: She bruises, coughs, she splutters pistol shots, hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

LINK TO ALL CHAPTERS:

The music stops before repeating the same song over and over again.

I’ve been on the rink the entire morning, waiting for Masamichi to arrive, but he’s not here and I can’t find him at the resort either. I told him over text message I need to talk to him, urgently, before he has his meeting with Satorus crew. He just texted me an emoji of a man skiing back.

Great, when he’s skiing I can never predict when he will be here and I need to show him the pictures beforehand. I don’t want to open this pandora's box in front of Satorus manager and whoever is also on his crew. I just want to show the pictures to Masamichi and have him handle the situation. Maybe he would politely decline their request and they would search for another rink to train. I’m not petty enough to ruin Satorus entire career by ratting him out to his crew. Even though he deserves it and I want to see him lose his cool when he realizes whatever happened yesterday between us was just the tip of the iceberg.

But I tend to let emotions get the best of me, and yesterday while eating my cold burger I kept staring at Satorus autograph and thought to myself I already won against him. I don’t need a rematch. Especially one I knew I had already won.

Masamichi will handle it the mature way and if he decides to snitch on him, then so it will be.

I’ve finished the same skating routine for another time and another one and so on until I can't remember how often I’ve restarted the same program. The music stops as I want to get up from my final pose to start again from the center of the rink. But I get distracted by clapping from the tribune.

I would recognize the sound of this specific applause everywhere.

“Romeo and Juliet, mhm. Didn’t know you are a pair skater now”, my former coach Mei Mei shouts over to me, pressing the pause button on my phone to stop the music. My vision is blurry but I would spot her figure out of millions. She was the one I always focused on during competition. My sight had always searched for her approval.

“And I didn’t know hell allowed its citizens to visit earth”, I just shouted back in response, realizing how out of breath I am. My body aches for a pause, my knees want to give up, but not in front of her. Never.

“Romeo and Juliet is for pairs”, she simply says back. Mei Mei is a person of few words and barely laughs. She likes to get her point across without a lot of chit-chat.

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do. You don’t need another person to sell a love story. Still as presumptuous as ever.”

"Presumptuous, yes, but did it work? Did you buy into my love story?”

I grin at her.

“Did you make this choreo on your own?”, she asks instead.

“Yes, so no need to get jealous.”

“It’s good, it’s different. With a few changes here and there, we could..”, I don’t let her finish her sentences. I know where this is going and I’m not in the mood for a discussion with her.

“I did it for funsies, not for competition.”

“You still land all your jumps, such a waste of talent.”

“What are you even doing here? Don’t tell me you missed me”, I laugh holding onto my knees for support. I overdid it. Fuck, my muscles are about to give up. Just relax, I tell myself and in a few seconds I will have the power to quickly skate out of the rink to sit down.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here for someone else”', her harshness doesn’t hurt me. I’m used to it and I know for a fact that she actually really cares about me. Hard shell, soft core. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for years.

“Oh, what kind of masochist decides to hire you”, I snicker, gaining my vision back.

“Will you be quiet? You must have forgotten but I made a winner out of you. ”

“And here I am thinking it was my lifelong dedication paired with my blood, my sweat and my tears.”

“Four years later and you’re still a snotty, little brat.”

“Add talented and I agree”, I hear giggling and it’s not from Mei Mei. I look around and see three people at the entrance arch. They are too far away for me to notice details, but I distinguish a woman with a plain black skirt and long brown hair. A man with likewise long hair but darker, and him.

Satoru Gojo.

His white hair I would recognize everywhere. It seems like the other guy was the one who laughed because the woman is sucking on a cigarette, even though it isn’t allowed to smoke in here, and Satoru stares at me with a stone cold face.

Shit, I’ve hoped to never see him again, particular after what happened the night before. Memories from yesterday creep up on me. I feel heat rushing to my ear and places I don’t want to talk about.

“My new client is here”, Mei Mei says in the direction of Satoru.

You gotta be kidding me.

“Hockey, really? Didn’t you say it’s for brutal losers with two left legs?”, I exclaim, watching them walk down the stairs. Mei Mei is a former ice skater but as she herself said, she wasn’t talented enough. So she decided to coach and she is amazing at it. She knows bones and muscles more than any doctor. She can see from a mile away when someone steps on the ground the wrong way or when the legs hit a wrong angle after a jump. No doubt in my mind that she is capable enough to train a wounded hockey player back onto the ice.

“Yes, but money is money, right?”

She is always saying what’s on her mind. Unapologetic. Some clients would find this utterly rude, but they don’t seem to care.

I need to get off the ice and away as fast as possible, but my legs are still shaking. I’m afraid I will fall when I try to skate off. This situation couldn’t get any worse.

So I just follow them down the stairs with my eyes, focused on Satoru, who stares right back at me. No smile, no goofy expression, nothing. It’s like he’s ready to go into the rink for a fight. I’m so focused on him that I first take a look at the other guy as he says: “Hey”, adding my name casually: “Long time no see.”

I just look at him and can’t sort out his face.

“I can’t even be mad at you for not..”, he continues but I screech in a high-pitched voice: “Suguru.”

Right at this moment my left knee gives in and I fall on my side. Gladly I’m used to falling so I know how to save myself to avoid greater damage. Still I fall on my hip and only manage to save my head from hitting the ground by using my elbow to keep my upper body steady. I hit a nerve and it shots right through my limps. I want to scream but it is already embarrassing enough to fall like that, especially after saying a guy's name, so I suffer within.

“I’m fine!”, I say immediately. It hurts, but I’m fine. Maybe it will bruise but I’ve had worse. The only problem is, I can’t get up. The muscles in my left lower thigh start to constrict, making it impossible for me to even get back on my legs. My ass is therefore glued to the ice. I shift my weight to at least get my legs off the cold ground. Of course I’ve decided not to wear tights today, a foolish mistake.

“You forgot to eat your banana!”, I hear Mei Mei scream. I can’t remember the last time I ate a banana, but whenever my muscles were exhausted, Mei Mei would tell me to eat more bananas. “I will get you”, I hear Suguru say. I’m glad he’s the one offering me help, yet I still tell him I’m good, I don’t need any help.

Suguru Geto.

He was the captain of the university ice hockey team, which used to train on this rink before Yaga cut the contract a year after Suguru had graduated and moved to play for the Boston Bruins. He was a heartthrob and probably still is. I can further remember all these college girls giggling on the tribune as they were watching him train. My initial thought was, he would be an arrogant ass, like most hockey players.

But Suguru was different. He was nice to everyone. He laughed at every joke his teammates told him, he greeted everyone who walked past him and he listened and was actually interested in every conversation he had with fans.

We saw each other while he was on the rink, because even when the rink was occupied, I spent my entire day in the hall. Usually I was reading and occasionally looked over to him. It seemed like ice hockey was created for him. With such an ease he ruled the rink and demolished his opponents. But most importantly he had truly fun, something I rarely had on the ice. For me skating was all about winning and keeping my mind occupied. I trained so hard that my brain couldn’t hold a thought for longer than a second. Everything was about skating. Nothing else was invited in my mind.

I was jealous of him in a weird way.

He was allowed to sometimes come over when the rink was closed to skate, because my mother liked him. She didn’t hold animosity against ice hockey players, unlike me. One time she said Suguru reminds her of my father and I laughed at her. My mother had her delusional moments. There is nothing good about my father.

There is so much good about Suguru.

Suguru and I often sat at the same bench but never really talked and I think he was glad we didn’t. Whenever I saw him with his team, he was surrounded by people who wanted something from him, so he must have enjoyed the silence we shared. It’s not like I wanted to talk with him anyway. I didn’t have time for friends, much less for boys. But we greeted each other and sometimes he told me how impressive my jump was and I showed him my support by giving him a silent thumbs up when he looked at me after hitting a goal.

I only found out about him playing for the Boston Bruins, because he sent me a card after I won at my first Olympics. Reading how he forced his entire team to watch me and how happy he was when I won. He added his condolences for my mothers death, saying he first heard about it through a presenter who mentioned it on TV before my performance, so he’s sorry for not contacting me earlier. In the envelope were two tickets for one of his games in Boston. He wrote that he knew about my distaste against ice hockey, but a little city trip never hurt nobody. He even wrote I’m allowed to read or look at my phone, on condition that I shoot him a thumbs up when he’s making a point. He didn’t leave a phone number or address, so I couldn’t contact him. I’m not sure if I would’ve even done that. After the Olympics I didn’t have free-time. I was giving interviews for magazines, doing photoshoots and had TV appearances. So I never went to his game.

Eight years have passed since then. Occasionally I was thinking about him, but we never shared a deep bond to begin with and for him to not leave anything to contact him felt like a sign that he was just trying to be nice. Nice how he would be to everyone who lost their mother and later won at the Olympics. I would have felt like a fool for trying to contact him after all these years.

As Suguru wants to step on the ice, Satoru holds him back and slithers past him, saying he will get me.

Oh no, I force myself to get up while the woman, who is with them, just says: “Gojo, if you hurt yourself going on ice without skates, don’t expect me to treat your wounds afterwards.”

But it didn’t seem to bother him being on ice without skates. He slides towards me like it’s the easiest thing ever. For him it probably is. He must have insane upper body strength and don’t get me started on the legs. I mean I’ve seen the pictures, not only before I went into the pub. I googled him again at home while Hime was telling me about her day, mentioning how Satoru and his crew rented the entire third floor and how upset the cook got once she gave him Satorus meal plan with all the extra wishes.

Before he has the chance to reach me, I’m on my legs again. It’s killing me, but it’s better than getting help from him. He still extends his hand towards me.

“No really, I’m good”, I say and want to skate past him towards the rink exit where Mei Mei is waiting for me with open arms, but he grabs my arm and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. Before I even register what I’m doing, I kick my legs, but he holds them in place, whispering to me: “Leaving me out in the cold is one thing, but now you’re trying to kill me.”

I instantly stop moving.

I forgot I had my skates on. Hitting him at the right angle, they would cut through him like butter.

“I’m sorry, did I strike you?”, I ask, totally forgetting whose shoulder I’m on. He has his arm wrapped around my upper thighs. His hand is laying precariously close to my ass, while his other arm blocked my kicks.

“No, I’m fine, princess.”

Just now I’m realizing that he isn’t taking me to the exit where the others are waiting. He’s going across to the other exit.

“Don’t call me that and you’re going the wrong way!”

“Yesterday you didn’t mind me calling you princess, and huh? Not wearing tights with such a short skirt. Don’t tell me you did that for me.”

“Dream on”, I buzz back to him with a lowered voice: “Now let me go, I can skate by myself.”

“No, we need to talk”, he rustles and pinches me right below my ass. I’m hitting him against his lower back but it doesn't bother him.

We arrive at the other exit while the others look confused at us from the other side. Great, I don’t want to know what they are thinking.

He lowers me down and finally lets go of his grip he had on me. I open my skates as fast as I possibly can, not looking up to him.

“As much as I enjoy you kneeling in front of me, we need to talk.”

I get up with my skates in my hands and turn around to leave. There is no need to talk. By now his pea-sized brain must have figured out that I’m playing a part in his whole contract with the usage of the rink.

But it’s too late.

He fucked up by drinking.

He broke the contract before it was even completely finalized.

No need for me to hear his excuses.

As I’m walking away from him, he doesn’t hinder me. Instead I hear a sound which makes my blood freeze inside my veins.

‘Who’s your daddy, Zenin?’

Followed by me whimpering his name.

My heart sinks as I jump up, turning to him. Satoru hasn’t moved a bit as he holds his phone out for me to see a video.

“Do I have your attention now?”

I can’t believe it. How didn’t I notice him filming?

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

This is not good.

Not good? It’s a fucking disaster!

“Delete it”, is all I mutter once the clip is over. The clip itself is dark, you can barely identify me. But him saying my fucking last name and me being dumb enough to play right into his cards by answering. Fuck.

Did he plan this from the beginning?

No, it can’t be.

He’s just a pervert, who does stuff like that. His obsessive talking about taking pictures of me while fucking him with a Rangers shirt on should have been an indicator from the start.

“You know I can’t”, he answers.

“Why not?”

“The pictures.”

“Which pictures?”

Pathetic comeback for me, but I’m startled. I can’t lose this evidence. Surely I could ask Masamichi to just believe me or tell him to call Frank. He’s a witness, but I’m not even certain if he would listen to me. He would probably tell me to stop with my animosity against Satoru.

“Oh don’t you dare act stupid”, he puts his phone back into the pockets of his grey training pants: “Suguru has warned me about your dislike towards ice hockey players. Don’t get me wrong, I understand it. But I would’ve never guessed how far you would go.”

“What do you mean, warned?”, I cough.

“Did you really think I didn’t know who you were right from the beginning?”, I look at him, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour in my chest: “I know so much about you, you have no idea.”

I start to lose balance again, holding myself up at the edges of the rink. Partly because of my still exhausted legs, but more so because I feel the panic rise inside of me. I want to puke, knock myself out, just so I can wake up far away from him in a hospital bed and act like none of this is happening right now.

“Sit”, he points to a bench: “This will take a while.”

I obey and take a seat. There is no way for me to get away. To get out of this situation. If I can live through this nightmare, I can do anything.

At least for now he’s keeping distance, leaning against the wall in front of me. I’m glad no one seems to come over to bother us. Before I could ask myself why they are leaving us alone, I rant: “I didn’t give me any permission to film me! Do you have any idea how badly this could affect my life?”

“And do you have any idea how these pictures could affect my life?”

“It’s your own fault! You took these pictures, you did it yourself! If I were your average fan, these pictures would be online already!”, I scream at him, holding back tears.

“Yes, and it was fucking stupid of me. I was reckless.”

“So your own recklessness gives you the permission to film me? Why did you do it? Is this a sick kind of game to get back at my father, something to laugh about with your team?”

He walks over to me, seating himself next to me at the bench, stretching his left leg out. Not looking at me.

“It has nothing to do with your dad and no one will ever see this video, if you keep the pictures to yourself and let me skate here.”

I feel sick.

“Are you blackmailing me?”, I ask with a shaky voice.

“No, I’m just matching your energy. You started this foul game, I’m just keeping up.”, he’s still not looking at me, now both his legs are stretched wide open. Relaxation in person. He never seems to lose his cool.

“I don’t understand.”

“I already told you not to act stupid. You made it your mission right from the moment you saw me at the pub to ruin my life and I was dumb enough to not notice it until I saw how you looked at the pictures. Smiling like I walked right into your trap. I realized I’m fucked if I don’t have a quick backup plan.”

We really played each other, but I underestimated him tremendously. He’s right. I thought he is a dumb ice hockey player, who is an easy opponent. I would’ve never guessed that he saw right through me.

I breathe heavily and try to calm my nerves. I don’t know what to do. Or what to say. I’m on the horns of a dilemma. But I need to solve this quickly. And for this I need to know exactly what his plan is.

“What will you do if I show Yaga the pictures?”

“I will leak the video.”

I bite my teeth: “Then I will show them to your NHL team.”

“No you won’t do any of that and I will tell you exactly why.”

He stretches his arms over his head like he has no care in the world. It makes my blood boil by how calm he seems. He knows he has me in the palm of his hand. I acted the same way as I locked him out of my car. I was so certain that I had the upper hand, that I didn’t realize his real scheme. It wasn’t to fuck me, it was to counterplay my strategy.

“You’re a world-class figure skating champion without any dirty laundry. You didn’t even say one bad word about your shithead dad to the press”, he gets up and situates himself between my legs. Going on his knees to be on one level with me, while his large hands rest on my thighs. I do nothing against it. I just hold his sight and wait for him to continue.

“You’re still to this day America's sweetheart. Not a chance in the world you would risk your perfect reputation over not sharing your rink with an ice hockey player.”

“And you’re naive if you think I did this because you’re an ice hockey player.”, is the only thing I spit back at him, because he’s right about me. He read me like an open book, even with alcohol intake. He’s not a dumb player who only has parties and sex in mind. He’s a fucking psychopath.

“So why did you do it?”, he asks, genuinely curious while he rests his chin on my knee. He looks at me like this is all fun and games to him. Like he has already won. 1:0 for me, my ass. This is not a rematch, it’s halftime and I just realized that I scored an own goal.

“Why can’t you just get another rink?”, I ask instead, while ignoring his question and holding back tears. I can’t win this. He’s so fucking right. I would do everything to keep my reputation high. Thinking more about it, certainly a video like this would make massive waves. I think of all the different outcomes. In today's climate Satorus career would be over. No, let me correct that. Over something like leaking a suggestive video, his career wouldn’t be over. He’s a hot, rich man, who’s loved by many people. He would come out of this with a tap on his fingers. Only the pictures I have could ruin his career. But if he goes down, he will drag me with him. Clearly I would get sympathy from some sides, but still make the headlines. And even when people tell you, they didn’t look at it, they did. It’s the age of the internet. Once something is out there, it will be there forever and haunt you like a poltergeist. The fear has gripped me that this short, dirty talk video would overshadow all my accomplishments.

I start to cry.

“There is no time for me to find a new one before the season begins”, he noticed me crying and let out an annoyed sigh: “I’m sorry for doing this to you, princess. But my career means everything to me. You surely understand this better than anyone else.”

Yes I do, and this is the reason why I’m sitting here and declaring defeat. He can have my rink alongside with my dignity. Wait, he already has the last one.

“I hope you fall and break your neck on my rink”, I say and kick him against his chest, but he has a strong grip on my thighs, not letting go of me as he smiles: “So we have a deal, great! How about we start over”, he exclaims and lets go of my thighs, leaving his handprints on them. I brush over my thighs, trying my hardest to get them away. My action doesn’t seem to bother Satoru as he takes something out of his pocket.

His phone and mine.

He must have grabbed it before entering the rink. He could have easily just destroyed it. There was no need for him to ever mention the video he has of us. It was nothing more than another game of his. A power trip. To show off that he played me. To show off that he tricked me.

To show off that he conquered me.

I want to strangle him.

He unlocks his phone while holding mine in front of my face to activate the face-ID. Whatever his plan is, I know I have to accept it. I have never felt this kind of defeat before. I have never felt powerless over a situation. I have never lost.

Then he hands me his phone and keeps mine.

“Delete the video. And I will delete the photos.”

“How do I know you don’t have a backup?”

“I don’t use the cloud because this thing gets way too easily hacked.”

“You could have it saved to another device or send it to someone.”

“Jeez, how leery. Not sure why I deserve this.”

I just stare at him, unamused while I feel the weight of his phone in my hand.

“Okay, you can look through all my messages and ask Suguru, I don’t have another device with me.”

“And how do you know I don’t have a backup?”

“Oh, come on, princess, don’t be silly now. You were way too sure about all this to think that something could go wrong.”

I lower my glance and work my way through his phone without saying a word to him. In a fucked up way I trust him that he has no backup. But I still look through his recent messages on all his social media platforms. There are a lot of chats. Mostly I’m interested in his groupchat with the Rangers team. It’s a bunch of nonsense they ramble about. Asking Satoru about the resort and all kinds of stuff about Hockey. I’m surprised that he didn’t mention meeting me. So he really kept it to himself. Even though there was a conversation going on a few days ago that caught my attention, mainly because I see my name added into it.

Gavel: I still think it's a foolish idea for Gojo to train at the Yaga rink. Can’t trust a Zenin.

Slenderman: There’s a NDA.

Gavel: NDAs always have a loophole. Send it to me, I will find one.

Slenderman has sent a file

Atsuya: I agree with Hiromi, it’s idiotic. Aren’t there other ones?

1: We already discussed that. We requested over a dozen. Yaga is the only one that meets our criterias. No more debate. The situation is bad enough already.

Satoru: Jeez, thanks.

1: you know how I meant it..

Scarface: I also think it’s a dumb idea.

Satoru: Since when do you care?

Scarface has sent a photo (it’s a screenshot of my name in google picture search)

Scarface: notice a pattern?

Satoru: ???

Scarface has sent a photo (it’s a screenshot of Satoru Gojo girls in google picture search)

Scarface: pattern

Satoru: ???

Space bun: He means she’s your type.

Satoru: So?

Scarface: You’re there to train, not to get your dick wet.

Nanamin: I don’t want to be part of this discussion.

Nanamin has left the chat

Ino has added Nanamin

Gavel: I looked over it, I will send a better version to you, @ slenderman

Slenderman: Thank you, but our attorneys approved this one.

Gavel: They’re idiots then.

Slenderman: @ scarface Thank you for your concern, but our team at Idaho will make sure that Gojo focuses only on his training.

Satoru: Can’t promise that.

1: …

Scarface: I knew it! Can’t blame you, she’s fuckin’ hot. I would tap that too.

Nanamin has left the chat

Space Bun: Gross dude, don’t you have a girlfriend?

Ino has added Nanamin

Scarface: So? Doesn’t mean I can’t dream

Scarface: and cream.

Nanamin has left the chat

1: I’m just one more comment away from informing coach Gakukanji about this @ scarface

Scarface: Pls don’t tell daddy, I’m scared.

1: …

Scarface: Jokes aside, I’m just thinking about the team. If he’s not focusing on getting back on track, we’re fuck, so you better give Q-tip a warning.

Ino has added Nanamin

1: See you in 10, Satoru.

Satoru: Jeez, I was just joking.

1: in 10.

Satoru: okay mom

Gambler: Did someone see my Jersey?

“Gross”, I mutter, not sure what to make out of that. It’s true, he has a type, but I see his type more as models. I don’t notice a huge resemblance with me. But people from the outside see things differently, maybe scarface is right, but that still doesn’t help me on my path of trying to understand what Satoru actually wants from me. A quick fuck? A challenge? My fathers attention? Whatever his intentions are, they are not noble.

“What? Found my nudes?”, he smirks up to me, still sitting between my thighs.

“What, no!”

“Right, you wouldn’t say gross if you saw them.”, he grins and is skipping through my phone as well. I don’t really mind, because I have nothing of his interest to hide.

After I checked his most recent chats and made sure his phone is in no connection with another, all while trying not to lurk too much into his privacy, but as I went ahead to his galery to delete the video, I noticed a handful of photos of Satoru with a kid.

“You have a kid?”, I ask without thinking if I’ve crossed a line by wanting to know something so private, especially for athletes like him. A lot of famous people keep partners or kids behind closed curtains, away from the public eye.

But Satoru just glares at his phone for a second and says: “No, it’s Fushiguros.”

“And who’s Fushiguro?”

He blinks at me, knitting his eyebrows in disbelief.

“You really have no clue about Ice Hockey. Toji Fushiguro, he’s my teammate.”

“Cute kid.”

He blinks at me again, before going straight back to whatever he’s doing on my phone.

“Yeah he’s a cutie, unlike his dad.”

I don’t question his stance, even though I’m asking myself who Fushiguro is from all the weird nicknames he gave his teammates and go right into his video folder where I instantly find the video and delete it.

“And you have a cat?”, he questions showing me a picture from my photo gallery. I look at the picture and explain: “Yes, his name is Todo. He’s actually the rink cat, maybe you will see him.”

Three winters ago I found Todo as a kitten under a stack of firewood. As I was about to grab some, I heard his meow and instantly brought him inside. Even as a kitten he was big, but now he’s a huge monster of a cat, who eats like an actual monster as well. I spend more money on his food than on my own. But he’s a lovely black tabby, easily makes friends and loves belly rubs when he’s comfortable with someone. He usually lives in the rink hall because it’s more spacious than my cabin. I sometimes take him with me overnight, but often I can’t find him before I leave. I will definitely get him a friend, but the rescue center in my town doesn’t have a right candidate at the moment.

“Cute”, he smirks, still looking at the picture of Todo and me.

“Yes, he really is.”

“No, I meant you.”

I make a fake puking sound and declare: “Hope you’re deadly allergic to cats.”

He just laughs deeply into his stomach and I avoid his eyes to focus back on his phone in my hands.

Just to make sure I go ahead into the data bin and permanently scrap the video off. This has never existed. So it never happened.

I want to hand him his phone back but he’s still fixated on mine.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking through your google searches.”

“Give me my phone!”, I try to snatch it out of his hand but he grabs both my wrists with his unoccupied one and keeps scrolling with the other. Trying to free myself, he just pulls me closer, pressing his shoulder against my stomach. I have his hair under my nose and I hate to say it, I actually curse myself for thinking this, but he smells so good. Whatever magical spell he has on my brain to even just think that, needs to be shattered. I should not find him attractive, but of course fate has sent me an adonis over to make my mortal enemy.

“Over a dozen searches with my name. Are you in love or something? Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Shut up and give it back”, I screech, pulling even more. I tend to forget that he’s a fucking rock.

“Satoru Gojo DUI, Satoru Gojo crash, Satoru Gojo jail. Really?”

“Gosh, let me go”, I say and try again to rip my hands out of his grip. I rather say ‘Gosh’ because if I just utter the word ‘God’ in his presence, he will make it about himself.

“I take it back. Whoever Michael Byford is, he must be living rent-free in your head. Michael Byford wedding, Michael Byford wife. Shit, princess, you’re in love with a married man?”, but then I can see on his face as he reads more of the searches. The same ones I used when I looked Satoru up. DUI, crash, jail, murder….

He’s confused and distracted which allows me to get my hands free and snatch my phone back.

“Who is he?”, he asks instantly, staring me down, but I don’t meet his gaze.

“Did you delete the pictures?”, I ask instead, wanting nothing more than to go away.

He simply nods.

So it’s over. No need for me to stay here with him any longer. I push one of my legs past his chest to get up and brush past him. However he’s fast and grabs my shoulder, before I even have the chance to fully get up. He’s asking again who he is.

Michael Byford; the man who took my mother from this earth, from me. Normally you would think that Satoru should have heard his name if he really does know everything about me. Yet his name is pretty much never written in articles about my mothers death. Most articles about my mothers passing paint her death as an accident, some even say she was in a car and hit another one. I never talked about it or clarified anything, because it happened right before the Olympics and my PR team told me to focus on my performances. Masamichi did everything in his power to handle the situation, but apparently Michael Byford had someone mighty on his side, who had good connections with the press and a whole lot of money. His name and face were erased from most articles and lies were fabricated even though he was convicted. Whoever cares to know how my mother dies, will read about a tragic accident. Only if you dig deeper, you will find words like drunk driver or at best Michael B..

After all these years I never had the strength to talk about it publicly. People thought I handled it so well. I mean I won gold. I should have been devastated and should have resigned from the Olympic team, but skating was the only thing keeping me from collapsing. I didn’t let my brain think for one second. I pushed my body beyond its limits to kill every thought in my mind. And after the Olympics everyone seemed to forget about her death. All I heard about was my victory, which sent me straight into a pile of interviews, photoshoots, campaigns and TV appearances. Once this died down, I wanted to tackle the processing for her death. I wanted to come clear with myself and start to accept it, but Mei Mei has brought up that I need to focus on Nationals and requalify for the Olympics and at that time I chose the easier way, which was to simply not think about her death. Now nearly a decade later I still haven’t engaged in the healing process. I’m only angry and bitter. Angry at Michael Byford and whoever helped him discredit his actions. Bitter with myself for never addressing it. For keeping quiet about her death. For letting him get away with it.

But it’s too late. I missed the train to untangle it.

Being in the public eye is heaven and hell so to speak. I would open a barrel with no idea how deep it gets.

People could find me brave for finally speaking about it, for bringing attention to the injustice the press did to my mothers case. I could give speeches about it and maybe help others who went through the same loss. But who am I to do this? I’m not even over it myself. Can you actually get over a situation like it? God, they would praise me as a hero, yet I’m spiteful and my mind is filled with cruel imaginations.

On the other side the deeper the barrel, the closer it is to hell. And hell would be to come across as needy, fame hungry. Like why is she talking about it now? It’s nearly a decade ago, why didn’t she speak up earlier? Is she using her mothers death to get relevant again? Is the money getting tight and she needs a sob story to sell to the media? Like who is she anyway?

I heard this kind of stuff all before. There is not a year when there isn’t someone going through this exact event with the media and you can never predict the outcome.

And I hate not being in control.

But whatever route it would take, one thing's for sure. It would ruin Michael Byfords life. And as much as I crave his downfall, all I saw when I was looking him up online was his little daughter. I would not only ruin her father's life, I would ruin hers as well. I would not be better than Michael. There would be no way for them to be ever truly happy again after I drag them through the mud of the media. Muscle to muscle and toe to toe, her father took my mother from me so I would take her father from her.

Call me a vicious or vile person for my foul play with Satoru, but I’m not a monster. I would never be able to forgive me for ruining an innocent person's life. I wouldn’t be better than a drunk driver who takes the life of an innocent bypasser.

“Stop bothering me, you’ve won. Be happy and leave me alone”, I press myself up, still insanely weak on my legs, but I manage it. He stands up with me, all while his hand is still fixed on my shoulder. He’s really testing my body on how easily I bruise. The big one on my hip won’t be the only mark I’m getting today.

“Who is he?”, he asks again, stubborn as a mule, maybe more like a tank.

“Thought you know everything about me”, I hiss provocatively, now meeting his gaze. If I had an iron rod, I would go full Tonya Harding on him.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me”, his grip on my shoulder tightens even more. Yes, this one will definitely become a bruise.

Why does he want to know? To send me more through hell? To keep me longer in this nightmare of his presence? To find more pieces for his twisted game he’s been playing with me?

“Just let me go”, before he has the chance to loosen his grip, Mei Mei appears, closely followed by Suguru and the unknown woman.

“What is going on?”, Suguru says, looking between Satoru and me, who has by now let go of me. I stand there awkwardly. They came at the worst timing.

“Get over here, now”, Mei Mei wails through pressed teeth at me. I obey and reach for her as she grabs my underarm and pulls me instantly closer.

First I thought she’s mad at me for some reason, but then I saw her eyes flicker at Satoru. She’s ready to kill him.

“Are you good?”, she asks me calmly, taking my face in between her palms and observing my face. I’m definitely red in my face from all the crying earlier, so I spin a lie around it. I don’t want to turn this into a big deal. I don’t want them to know why I cried, what all this is about. I simply don’t want to talk anymore. However, since when do I get what I want? So I talk.

“I’m fine, it’s just my leg. Must have torn a muscle or something. You know what a crybaby I can be.”

She doesn’t believe me, mainly because I’m not a crybaby at all. At least not when it comes to physical injuries. She winds her arms around my shoulders to steady me, but more so to give me a strange hug. Like she used to do when I was waiting for the jury to announce my points at a competition and my nerves were making me shake like a tiny tree in a storm. She’s not good with physical comfort. Who am I lying to, she’s not good with comfort in any form. For example the time when I told her about the Devils talent scout, who came into the rink and I panicked, she simply said that he’s just a random man and since when am I crying over an ordinary man. She didn’t understand my concerns or simply didn’t care enough. All along Mei Mei used to find my deep rooted fear for my absent father absurd. Maybe because my mother never spoke bad about him and watched his games on TV with full support like he didn’t completely ghosted us. She was so in love with him. And I will never know nor understand why. For me, he’s as dead as my mother.

“I will not ask again, Satoru. What are you doing here?”, Suguru is mad, or worried, or both. I can’t tell the difference. Satoru doesn’t say anything. This circumstance isn’t ideal for him. Whatever lie he has in mind, I could easily debunk it and everyone would believe me.

But I’m tired and sick of this. I want to go home and cuddle up on the couch while Hime brings me some food and tells me everything is going to be fine.

“Nothing really. He -”, a fast lie, a good and quick one.

“He had to bring me through this exit because he couldn’t turn around without falling too.”

To my surprise Satoru grins at me like the devil himself and call me a fucking psychopath, but my heart instantly skips and screams for a rematch. He has won the first game against all odds, but this was not the real one. It was just a tryout.

The pictures and the video are gone and so is everything that led up to this moment. Everything that has happened between us, is our secret. I know I could ruin him right now, throw allegations at him and accuse him of anything that comes to my mind. He would be out of my rink in an instance. It would be an easy match for me to win. But I don’t want to play a foul tryout anymore. I will find a way to get him into a dilemma. Into the lion's den with no way out. Complete defeat, so no rematch can save him.

A spiel between true legends. Two legends that don’t underestimate each other. All cards open, baby. Fuck, I can’t wait to see what kind of tricks my opponent has up his sleeve.

But first I need to resolve this. Neither Mei Mei nor Suguru seem to fully believe me. Granted, it was a bad lie. As if Satoru won’t be able to turn us around.

Yet, I don’t truly know how severely injured his leg is. Maybe all the training won’t be enough to get him back into the team. Truly pitiful, I can’t hide my snicker after this thought.

They wait for Satoru to say something, but he is as always the least stressed person in the room, so I continue for us: “He just grabbed me to get me back on the bench to favor my leg. But everyone would have tried to run away, because apparently he can’t be quiet for one second. Kept talking my ears off!”

I try to bring lightness into the stiffen atmosphere and it seems to work. Sugurus' shoulders start to relax and a small smile appears on his lips. Mei Meis' hold around me also loosens, but she still seems weary of Satoru.

“We haven’t had the chance for an introduction. I’m Ieiri Shoko, Satorus physician for the time he’s here. If you don’t mind I can have a look at your leg. Making sure everything is fine.”

She is stunning, absolutely gorgeous. An Angel.

Why is she working for a dick like Satoru?

Probably the same reason why Suguru and Mei Mei are here.

Money.

I introduce myself, but shake my head: “I have these kinds of injuries all the time, no biggie. I just need to lay down for a second and I’m fine again. But thank you and if it isn’t better tomorrow, I will gladly accept your offer.”

I beam at her and she smiles back.

“So between you both everything is fine?”, Mei Mei asks and before Satoru has the chance to say something, I intervene: “Absolutely. He was even so nice to promise me his help with the beginner skating course for kids. Miguel injured his back a few days ago and I’m actually his substitute but you know me, I’m not good with kids screaming, crying and falling all over themselves on the ice. So it was truly such a relief when Satoru offered to overtake the course until Miguel is fit again.”

Maybe this is a bit of a foul game, but I will allow it for my amusement and to save me some nerves.

“What, Satoru, you know you don’t have time for that”, Suguru expresses confusion.

“Didn’t you hear, I promised it to her”, he genuinely smiles at me while I try to not get red. I would have expected a lot of different reactions, but not this one. He’s really helping me out.

But why?

“Could be good, easy exercise for him. Training small kids and preventing them from falling requires a lot of strength, fast instincts and speed with steadiness. All while keeping calm”, Mei Mei explains, looking at Suguru.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. No one is supposed to know you’re here. This goes against everything we arrange in the NDA”, Ieiri steps in and gives Suguru an alarmed look.

“Not to burst your bubble, but have you seen him? He looks like a giant Q-Tip, good luck keeping his stay a secret”, I utter, referring to how scarface called him in the chatlog.

Everyone huffs amused at my comment, even Satoru. I look at him and he’s watching me from under his long lashes. I feel like I’m going to faint. A man like him doesn’t deserve to be so beautiful. The world is truly unfair.

“We can discuss that later with our lawyers. And if they decline, I can step in”, Suguru chimes in and smiles at me.

“No, you don’t h-”, I stumble over my words before he cuts me off and states: “I will find a solution.”

He really hasn’t changed since the last time I saw him. He’s still calm and kind. An empathic good soul. I hate myself for dragging him into this. Of course he would sacrifice himself on Satorus and my behalf. Training kids is a fucking pain in the ass. At least for me, but Suguru wouldn’t probably mind. He’s the kind of person who's naturally good with kids. With everyone.

He’s the type of man mothers brag about to their friends and fathers love to actually hang out with. He’s the kind of person when he’s with somebody other women envy them and other men are intimidated by his presence. He’s the type of man who genuinely cares and always picks the right side.

He hasn’t changed at all, really. He just got taller, more muscular and his hair is a bit longer, but he’s still a heartthrob. Not in the way Satoru is. Suguru is the perfect portrait of a classic man, a timeless handsome face. Some would argue he has a mysterious manner. Like a fallen angel, damned to stick around flawed humans.

Satoru seems so opposite of him. White hair versus black hair. Light eyes versus dark eyes. Devil grins versus angel smiles.

But they are both so majestic in an indescribable way even though they are huge Ice Hockey Players with hard facial features and even harder muscles. And wasn’t the Devil an Angel before God threw him out?

What am I even thinking?

I should have stopped my train of thoughts after Suguru being a heartthrob and not bring Satoru into this calculus as well.

“Anyway, I should really head out now. It was nice meeting all of you. I will come back later to sign all the NDA stuff, don’t worry!”, I announced and released myself out of Mei Meis hug, walking inside the corridor.

But I quickly halt, turn around and drop a curtsey while staring daring at Satoru: “And before I forget it, welcome to the Yaga rink.”

He holds my gaze and grins: “And thank you for having me.”

Asshole, as if I had the chance to decline.

But soon enough I will wipe that arrogant smirk right off his face.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #enemies to lovers #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #ice hockey au #ice hockey #figure skating #smut #fake dating #fake dating trope

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mostlydeadallday · 2 years

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Lost Kin | Chapter XVI | A Thousand Agonies

Fandom: Hollow Knight Rating: Mature Characters: Hornet, Pure Vessel | Hollow Knight Category: Gen Content Warnings: body horror, infection, vomiting, surgery without anesthesia, abuse, torture, dehumanization, flashbacks, self-harm, amputation, suicidal thoughts, panic attacks AO3: Lost Kin Chapter XVI| A Thousand Agonies First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Notes: Ah, and there it is—the chapter you've all been waiting for. This was a struggle to write but I believe it's one of my favorites; I am very proud of the outcome and have been looking forward to showing it off for a long, long time. Take a breath, folks; it'll be Hornet in the hot seat next. Look for another update near the beginning of next month!

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When the blade sank in, its mind went white.

Then black.

Then gold.

The room swam in and out before its open eyes, flames of light licking at its consciousness. The acid stung and burned and burned and burned, and the knife was a spike of searing ice, sinking deep into the bubbles in its carapace.

A sickly, cloying scent drenched the air, burnt sugar and hot metal, false sweetness and divine rage. Something hot ran down its back, down its mask, down its neck and over its fingers as it clawed at the hideous softness that bubbled from its shell, from its mouth, from its weeping eyes.

But no—no—it must not move—it had not moved—

Over its shoulder, its sister let out a shaky breath and repositioned, her hand coming to rest on its side, a new pain breaking through as she eased the blade back in. Fluid seeped from the wound, hot even against its feverish shell, sizzling, steaming, and the scent grew stronger, choking its throat with a thick sweetness.

You must lie still.

The knife slipped deeper, too deep, and a cool trickle of void joined the flow of golden warmth. A shiver of pain rushed up from deep below, burning out before it reached the surface. And still its sister did not stop, did not pull back. She must have decided to end it, finally; she could find no more use for it. She would take it apart like one of the kills she had brought home, joints severed and limbs removed, chest- and back-plates pried up and discarded until all that remained was void, pulsing gruesomely like a rotten heart—

It did not move, did not try to pull free, though its shade writhed and screamed and beat at the seals holding it in. It forced itself down, as still as if the chains still bound it, as if its father’s voice had spoken the command, as if it was his hands working over it, inflicting a pain it did not understand.

You must lie still.

The pain ebbed for a moment as its sister’s hands lifted, and it inhaled, blinking away the haze that had settled. It had learned this in the laboratory, had learned to breathe lightly, shallowly while Father worked, so as not to disrupt whatever delicate operation he was performing, and to draw in deeper breaths when he pulled back, taking in enough air in the pauses between that it did not faint when he began again. Breathing was something it could control, something it could hold onto when the knives cut too deep or the soul burned too sharply. And for a moment the light seemed to flicker again, from dull blue to burnished silver, and the presence behind it grew brighter, and the air swelled with the sweet glow of soul.

A wet cloth touched its back, clearing away the spilled light. It inhaled deeply again, though the air quivered in its throat, though the new cuts in its back burned with the motion, and it felt a new stream of void seep from the wound.

Its sister’s hand faltered. “It’s all right,” she said faintly, almost too soft for it to hear, the words more for herself than for it. “It’s all right.”

The silence was heavy, the patter of the rain and the rasp of its own breath almost deafening, and then she began again.

It was harder, this time. To hold onto the world, to remain in the room, in its shell, in the present. Its eyelids fluttered, breath scraping, and its hand clenched shut as if yanked by a marionette’s wires. Its claws pierced its own palm with a series of soft pops, the pulse of pain barely felt through the scorch of acid flowing from its shell.

Acid filling its eyes like fiery tears, acid oozing through its veins. Acid surging up its throat as it retched and heaved, acid dripping out between its ash-black teeth.

No. No.

That was then. This was now. This was—this was—

This was the chill touch of its father’s hands, the freezing brush of his soul, the holy fire of his blades burning and burning and burning—

Must not move. Must not… must not…

Something was—something was wrong. Wrong with it. With its mind, its jagged, fevered, fractured, broken mind—

It had no mind. It was void. It was a sheet of glass, a bottomless pool. It did not have thoughts, it did not feel pain, it did not flinch or faint. It did not lie quivering in the dark, seized in the grip of memory. It was a monument. It was a prison. It was an echoing, empty tomb. It did not feel. It did not feel.

And it did not need to tell itself these things. It did not need to repeat them over and over until it believed them. It did not need to suppress its impurities, those flickers of desire or twinges of fear, those things that did not belong to it. It did not need to bury them deep, deep below the surface of its mind where its father would never find them, did not need to stuff them down into the tiniest part of itself, did not need to crumple them cover them up wrap them up tight don’t let him see don’t let him see—

A shallow gasp escaped its throat, a pathetic grab for air, for sanity. It was not in the laboratory. It was not with its father. It was impure, tainted—the king would never have allowed it to keep on living with the touch of the Radiance warping and poisoning it.

That would have been a mercy, perhaps. Compared to this uncertainty, this weakness, this falling-slowly-to-pieces. It could not be sure what it was now, could not look at itself with anything other than revulsion. The infected were to be quarantined and executed immediately, before the plague could spread. It had done its fair share of that duty, had stood over smoldering pyres and breathed air thick with the stench of scorched chitin.

Other bugs had knelt beside those pyres and wept. Families, friends, lovers, brothers-in-arms.

No one would weep for it. It was an object. It was a thing. It was a tool.

What use was a brittle weapon? What good was a broken nail?

It gasped again, all it could manage, lungs filled to bursting with the dream-sweet air. Void-slick claws flexed and spasmed. Its back throbbed, slit open and exposed, nerves frayed and singed and sparking.

Its sister was shaking, her breath trembling in and out as she worked, but she did not stop. When she sponged away the infection, the rag quivered in her hand. When she rose up on her knees for a better angle, a thready sound escaped her throat, halfway between a sob and a sigh.

But she did not stop.

Each broken blister thudded dully, its heartbeat echoed in a dozen gaping wounds. Sparks of phantom pain flashed down its missing arm, tracing seams and joints and claws that had long ago rotted and fallen away. She had not even reached its shoulder yet, where the cysts swelled the largest, where they had eaten away its very shell until nothing but tender skin and frenzied nerves remained.

No matter if she drained the last drop of infection from it, she could not make it pure again. It had failed. It had cracked under the weight that had been placed on it. It had been crushed by the duty it was born to bear.

She should let it die. It could not beg, could not plead—should not even want to. But given a choice between this struggle, this endless pain and this slow unmaking, or the shapeless peace it fell into in sleep, it would choose the latter.

She had not given it a choice.

She wanted it to live.

It had to obey.

It should have died, at the temple.

Why had it not died?

“Hollow.”

It was a long moment before the vessel realized she had spoken to it.

“Hollow.” Her voice sounded thin, almost stretched. Her free hand pressed gently at its side. “Lie back.”

Hollow?

She could call it whatever she wished, of course, but it had never answered to anything but one of its titles. Hollow Knight. Pure Vessel. Weighty, solemn things. This felt familiar, intimate, and a weak alarm sounded in its head at the possibility of attachment, of something that was not permitted.

But the order was clearly meant for it, no matter the name she had used for it.

It forced itself back to the surface, wheezing breaths growing more labored as it leaned back onto the pillows she had placed.

She had taken its hand before it realized, unlatching its claws from their reflexive clench and sinking them into her own forearm. Soul cascaded down, a deluge of cold light, clashing with the roiling dark and sending a rush of panic through its core.

Sister’s soul, sister bright and shining, mortal sister fragile sister it had hurt her—

“Heal.”

The command came through gritted fangs. Her blood welled between its claws, her soul shimmered in its heart, and it lay there useless, gasping, in agony, too shattered to obey.

She pried its claws free, making not a sound as they left blue-black gouges in her carapace, as blood tracked down her arm and out of sight behind her wrist. She wiped its claws with brisk efficiency, clearing both blood and void from the finger-joints. Her words came rushed, harsh, almost angry. “I am unharmed. It is a minor cut. Now focus.”

It was an effort to haul itself back from the depths, to scrape together enough intent to cast the spell. The light brightened, casting lacy shadows on the ceiling, and dimmed again as it healed.

The soul was gone, its claws were clean, its wounds no longer bled. But it felt farther away now than it had been, watching the world through a gray film of exhaustion. Something had drained out of it, some thread frayed to the breaking. And it knew somehow that the next time the memories called, it would be harder to resist.

What if it lost itself entirely? What if it struck out in rage or terror against a foe that no longer menaced it?

Its sister would bear the brunt of its mistakes. Its sister would take the blow meant for another.

And yet it could not stop her.

It was not to question her. It was not to disobey. It must lie still, as she had ordered it.

It was not as pure as it had once been. And it was tired, so tired.

It did not know if it could.

She was turning back to it, now, having finished cleaning her own shell of blood and infection. She freed a hand from the rag she held to lay against its mask, her warm palm resting above its eye, over the crack that ran between its horns. Its next breath whistled thinly, something pulling tighter in its chest, and her mask tilted as if to listen, as if it could speak of what disturbed it.

But the moment passed when her hand lifted, when she exhaled, tightly, and placed the soiled rag in a pile on the floor. She bent over it, fingers probing at the larger pockets on its shoulder, and its neck tightened, chin jerking up a fraction, before it locked itself into stillness.

There was a soft ringing of metal as she picked up the blade.

She took a breath before she cut it open.

Pressure released in its shoulder with a burst of pain that threw streaks of white across its vision. Its other arm twitched, hand once more clenching shut, claws reopening the gashes in its palm. And this time the pain did not stop—did not relent. It mounted, as the acid in its joints flowed free, as its jaw clenched tight and its short, sharp teeth ground together, as its eyes glazed golden and its shade surged up to slam against the seals. The knife was a fang, a claw, a thorn digging deep, and it could not breathe, could not see, could not hold back, could not keep itself together.

Gilded talons, talons hid beneath soft fur, talons that latched into its flesh and crushed and splintered and tore—it—apart

That was then. That was then. This—this—

Searing fire and floating feathers. Ceaseless screams and blinding light. Chains, cold silver chains and cold silver spells, and a cold silver knife that cut and cut and cut—

The infection grows worse.

What happened at the temple?

No no no nononono—

There was nowhere else to go. There were no other memories to take refuge in. There was no more hiding—not from her.

I am sorry, sister…

Between one breath and another, it was back in the Dream.

Reality shriveled to ash. Chains lashed shut around it, and the mad goddess rushed into its head, raging, sobbing, screaming, shrieking, and she did not stop. She had never stopped, not once in the long, long years it had held her, and the only thing worse than the light was the never-ceasing noise.

There was nothing left of it beyond the pain. Her poisonous light burned it all away, draping the world in an omnipresent glow. A creature of void had no place in her Dream. A creature of void had no shadows to shelter in. It was undone in her presence, buried in brightness, drowning in fire.

It had not always been so broken.

At the beginning, it had been stronger. It had been able to resist.

It had denied her. It had denied her for so long.

It realized soon after the Sealing that its training was no use here. Soul-spells only angered her; void attacks melted away; what blows it could land with its nail were brushed off with a violence that flung it backward like a fly swatted out of the air.

A mindless thing surely would not learn. A mindless thing would throw itself at her until there was nothing left to throw. A mindless thing would follow its orders until it could do so no longer.

But fighting back was impossible.

The only strength it had that mattered was the same strength that had enabled it to lie still under its father’s knife, the strength to stand unmoving, at attention, in an empty room from dawn to nightfall, the strength to stagger back to its feet in the arena as the hours dragged on and the blows kept coming.

The strength to outlast her.

And it had tried.

Oh, it had tried.

She could not touch it in reality, not while it held out against her, not while it remained unbroken. She could not manifest in its real body, could not reach out and infect others through its form, until she broke it in the Dream.

And there was the problem. For though it should not have had a will or a mind, something had broken.

It had been torn apart and reshaped, its dream-self murdered and buried and resurrected, while its real body hung abandoned and forgotten beneath the roof of the temple. In her realm it endured endless horrors its living body could never bear—plates ripped up and skin torn open, shell and void bubbling away to mist beneath her heat, gleaming blades of solid light piercing its body like arrows until its heart faltered and its lungs filled with void and its mask split open, releasing a massive, trembling shade that wept and keened in the silent language of the void with all the agony and terror its physical self could not express.

Its living body could not die. But in the dream it never stopped. In the dream it died a thousand times a thousand ways to a thousand different agonies, and the endless repetition never lessened the pleasure she derived from killing it.

Sometimes it became a game for her, to see how quickly she could shatter it, crashing down with her full power on the child borne of her two oldest enemies. Sometimes she would play at keeping it alive, inflicting countless smaller wounds until her patience wore thin or it was crushed under the weight.

Sometimes she mocked its helpless, quivering shade as it circled round whatever ruin she’d made of it. The pools of void, the broken joints, the snapped horns and melted shell. She would laugh, and then she would remake it, and begin again.

But it was not the pain that finally broke it.

It was a memory, soft and silver, barely a blink in the endless, changeless ages of its torment, and she nearly passed it by.

It was the gentle glow of kingslight, the sway of leafy branches, the bright spark of pride in its father’s eyes. It was a moment shared in silence, the only kind of moment the vessel would ever know, but the silence had changed, had been softer, fresher, like a shell after molt, like wings new from the cocoon. It had been a flicker of companionship in an endless life of loneliness, a sense that it could look into another being’s eyes and see awareness staring back at it.

For an instant, its father forgot himself, and it had felt seen, seen, seen.

It buried that memory, shut it away behind spikes and traps and spinning blades, forbade itself from ever revisiting. It knew without needing to be told that this was weakness, knew from the moment its father looked away that this was not something to be thought or spoken of. Whatever had happened between them then, whatever sensation stirred in the vessel’s dead heart, it must be forgotten.

It had not forgotten. It could not forget.

And so when the Radiance’s burning gaze fell upon that memory, and when it froze with slow-dawning dread and horror in awareness of its mistake, she laughed.

The magnitude of her triumph shook the ground from beneath its feet, dropping it headlong into the bright unending sky. The knight tumbled horns over heels, the whistling speed of its fall tearing its breath away, gravity yanking at its gut in a sickening lurch.

And for the first time in decades, it woke.

Its eyelids jerked open, all the aches and complaints of its body falling back into place—shoulders straining tight beneath the armor, neck throbbing from the hanging weight of its head, legs gone numb and hands tingling under its cloak.

Something was different, something new and horrible, and it released a breath that shook and it should not feel this way it should not notice should not know that something had gone wrong but it did and it was it was wrong—

The crack of its carapace echoed in the temple sanctum, snapping plates flinging bits of shell into the dark. A scream rose in its throat, a scream that built and built and never released, pressure swelling in its chest until it seemed it would burst, if only to end its own silence. Only the Radiance’s victory cry broke through, a shriek of effort as she pierced through its shell and drove runnels of acid down its ribs, a hoarse screech clawing up its throat and tearing from its mouth in a reeking fog of orange.

Its left arm went numb, then seared with fire, every nerve blazing into panic. White-hot, then icy black, then pulsing, rotten orange, a sick heat gushing through its veins. Her presence pushed out through its skin, sprouting pustules of acid that sizzled and hissed and spread the plates apart until they split.

The knight’s hand spasmed, a weak jerk of its fingers all that came through before control was totally lost to it. Void splattered its mask as its shoulder burst apart, separating at the joint. More cysts bubbled and swelled, forcing their way out from under its skin.

Its shade battered at its mask in a frenzy, seals sparking and flickering before its eyes, but this was not the Dream. It could not escape here, could not shatter and rise wraithlike from the pieces. It was trapped, bound into its own body, and she would have her way with it.

Even the seals could not hold it together forever, not against the growing pressure of void as the light pushed it aside, not against the frantic thrashing of its shade. A thin line of pain split through the living bone, fine and bright as a razor’s edge, then widened into a blinding fissure, an agony so vivid that it choked on another sound that would never be, another silent wail that died in its empty throat.

It was not empty for long. Golden light choked off its breath and rose over its vision, infection welling through its mask and overflowing from its eyes, but not before it saw its arm detach from its body, void trailing from the severed veins as it plummeted to the temple floor.

It was lost, then.

It was not dead, because it could not die, but it was lost.

It fell into something akin to madness, perhaps. It existed only as an ember in a blaze, a vessel for her rage. It was all of her, her crushing sorrow and incoherent wrath, her piercing regret and cold cruelty and undimmed triumph. For a being that had forced itself into a state of unfeeling, snuffing out every spark of emotion that dared to flicker in its core, the sudden riptide of sensation was a force it had no counter to. It was dismantled, undone, its last moments of consciousness dissolved into screaming agony.

Perhaps it had always been meant to exist this way. Perhaps this pinpoint of blackness, stripped bare of awareness, of perception, of self, was its truest state. Perhaps it was pure now, as it never had been before.

It stared out sightlessly through eyes that saw only orange, exhaled rattling breaths that clouded the air with poison. Its body was no longer its own. It never had been. It had always belonged to those greater than it, to do with as they wanted, and what the Radiance wanted was to pour her light into it, pour and pour and pour until it cracked, until it burst, and her holy fire flooded free.

And then.

No.

The seals began to break.

Not all at once, but one by one, with dragging days and weeks in between, agonizing hours filled with silence so complete that it forgot it had heard anything at all.

But the sound was unmistakable. A strident ringing, a brassy resonance, like a shard of crystal vibrating to pieces.

No—

The roiling storm shifted, surging and sparking with bolts of anger like lightning. The Radiance had never been patient, but now she was frantic—she forced more acid into its shell, straining to break it open from the inside. With every seal that dissolved she pushed harder, screaming through its charred throat as she twisted and shoved herself into a space she did not belong in. It hurt her as much as it did it, for their pain was a shared thing, circling round and round, reverberating between the prison and the prisoner.

It felt her fear.

It could not feel what she was afraid of.

Until the day the door opened.

The Radiance watched through its eyes as the shadows shifted, as the walls lightened to a different tone of gray, as the infection swelling at the temple foundations glistened under a brighter light.

The world—flashed blue. Its arm ached.

Sister—sister, please—

It could not—it could not be here. And it could not pull away.

Help me help me help m—

Panic fluttered in its chest like feathers. Far away, in another time, its breath stopped, claws sinking deep into its own flesh, void flowing free in a numbing rush. Its mask throbbed.

But it could not leave. It could not break free.

A small silhouette entered the temple sanctum. A horned white mask with vast empty eyes. A tiny body, not much more than a bit of shell in a blue-gray cloak. The gleam of a blade, a sharp little thing, and a kind of silence that it knew, a deep silence that was more presence than absence, a silence it recognized even past the howling in its head.

There was… recognition there. Something beyond the familiar call of one vessel to another, something beyond the dream-strange shock of parted kin who were never meant to reunite.

It knew this vessel. This vessel.

The blackness of the Abyss yawned wide behind the knight’s eyes. Soul flickered, a pale glow against the vast nothingness below. And a little two-pronged mask hung in the darkness before it, chin just barely wedged over the edge of the platform, soft claws sliding backward on the metal, precarious grip abandoned for an instant in a desperate reach for help.

A new pain tore into it, striking through flesh and chitin into the depths of its heart, a blow the Radiance had not dealt it.

Sibling—

Kill it.

Her voice pounded into its head, echoes upon echoes, drowning out every shred of thought or consciousness. Pushing it back, forcing it deep into itself, burning away everything but the pain of her light and the torment of her voice.

Kill the usurper.

The little vessel stepped forward out of their standstill, nail drawn and ready, eyes fixed on the knight’s ruined body far above.

They swung. Not at the knight, not even at the swollen pockets of infection that surrounded them, but at the chains.

Their blade struck true. The spellwork shivered.

The Radiance watched, fury swelling to a fever pitch. She turned its head to follow the vessel as they strode across the floor, slashing at the chains, laying waste to the sturdy metal and delicate spells, the Pale King’s handiwork snapping like frayed threads beneath the pale ore of their nail. The ancient soul-glyphs dissolved, wisping into points of light that winked out in the darkness. The layers of spells slid from the knight’s form like threadbare silk, entire incantations unraveling with every slice from that bright blade.

It felt the moment it slipped free from the last enchantment. The moment the last chain buckled and snapped.

The moment nothing held it back.

It crashed to the floor. The impact rattled through its form, pain tearing through every joint and plate, through the mass of light at its shoulder, shivering out to the tips of its horns and heel-spurs. It would have collapsed, would have swooned on the cold floor, but strength pumped into it—raw, mad, hideous strength. She yanked its head back, loosing one more rasping howl from its broken throat, and—

—its head edged up on the pillow, air inching into its lungs, bands of terror clenching its chest tight—

Its numb hand closed on the hilt of its nail, pulling the tip from the crack between the cobblestones, and she dragged it to its feet, swaying, lurching to the side like a broken machine as it started forward, the little vessel’s face blurring and burning beyond a haze of orange, and—

—its mouth opened, teeth scraping, breath hissing, and its hand closed on nothing, on shadows, on the void pooling in its palm—

The goddess’s will strung through it like hot wires, pulling its limbs into a shaky mockery of its old stance, nail lifted into guard position, left hand rising, flooding with soul.

Its arm was a shadow in the air, a flickering vision, and the sharp shine of its magic died into memory.

It had no arm.

It had no soul.

What emerged instead was a festering spray of acid, spitting and sizzling like hot oil, a deadly arc of poison flung into the air. It hurt, and deep within it the void shrieked, twisting and lashing like the tongues of a whip, latching barbed claws into the Radiance’s hold and pulling pulling pulling—

—a knife in its shoulder, a cold blade under its skin, and acid spilling, gushing, coating its back, its side, its chest, and the void surged up, pulled tight, and struck out.

Its shoulder twisted.

The motion jolted its sister’s hand. The knife wrenched sideways, opening a white-hot gash under its arm.

Pain arced through its mind like a scythe. The memory dropped away in shredded pieces. It inhaled, a shuddering rasp, and the cold air stung, and its side was laid open, and its eyes hazed over with gray.

Its sister cried out, her hand clapping down to staunch the flow, and the knight’s tentative grasp on consciousness nearly slipped away. Her voice was a waver in the air, a wisp of smoke, a falling thread, her commands rendered meaningless by the roaring quiet that had descended.

It floated, head filled with hissing static, and then a flood of soul crashed down, and a single word rang in its ears.

“Heal.”

The spell welled up and sprang alight with almost no effort, almost no thought. As it should be—as it had always been—

The pain receded. The world faded back, a soft azure-gray.

No burning white. No blistering orange. It could breathe. It could see.

It was not… in the temple. It was not there.

The gleam of a round mask in the darkness. The weighted stillness of that little cloaked body. The pervasive silence of their void.

S-sibling…

This. This was what had been hidden from it, when it crawled out of the temple like a fumbling husk, like a wraith still somehow living. This was what it could not remember.

Their little sibling, returned to haunt them.

Their body freed, only to turn on their kin.

There was more, hidden behind the blank horror of the memory, some other atrocity waiting like a trap ready to spring, but the pain had broken the spell. It was here now.

Here. Now. With its sister. With her while she exhaled tightly and wiped the new streaks of void from its side, while she reached over its shoulder to lay her fingers on its mask.

Sibling blurred into sibling, violence into violence, and it knew.

If it had still had its arm…

If she had not already drained the acid…

If it had had any soul to focus…

She would be dead.

Taglist: @2amtime @moss-tombstone Reply to this post or send an ask to be added to or removed from the taglist!

#whump #hollow knight #hk hornet #hk the hollow knight #hk pure vessel #hollow knight fanfic #whumpwriting #mywriting #hk #lost kin #lost kin chapter #lost kin fic

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sadomas0chist · 3 years

Text

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.4k

tags/warnings: dom jean, simultaneous masturbation, penetrative sex, oral receiving (female), fingering, swearing, casual sex, partying, make-out session, brother’s best friend, breeding kink, belly bulge.

synopsis: despite being Connie's sister, you were never half the party animal he was. at the moment, getting good grades on your last semester took all your time which made one of your good friends, Hitch, drag you out of your room to the party your brother hosted. what could possibly happen, other than sleeping with your brother's best friend?

a.n. : i was thinking about turning this into a short series but i’m still debating whether i should go for it or not. anyway, enjoy!!!

update: i actually turned this into a series ;) part two is up!!

Being the sister of one of the most chaotic human beings on earth had its drops. I was supposed to be studying for my last semester which was pretty difficult and needed a full-time concentration.

Instead, I was getting dolled up by one of my best friends, Hitch, who was practically begging me to get out of my room and party. "Don't be so nerdy, it's not like you need the extra credit. Connie will be sad if you don't show up. He's been whining to Sasha all day long how his own sister didn't want to attend his own party." She applied some red lipstick to my lips and popped hers as a sign that she was done.

"Hitch, I really appreciate y'all getting worried about me going crazy, but I'm fine really. You know I'm only going because I missed you and the girls." I stood up from my bed and walked to my vanity, gasping at how sexy I looked.

Hitch smacked my ass in response. "Your ass looks good in this dress. Get some tonight." I raised my eyebrow at her. She knew I wasn't in the mood to mess around and get attached again. I shrugged it off and opened my bedroom door.

"Wait, why didn't he invite them to our house?" I stopped, watching her make her way in front of me.

"He needed more space. And a pool. Now come on we're going to be late." she reached out to grab my hand and dragged me out of my house.

***

"Oh goodness..." I mumbled to myself when I noticed how crowded the place was. Some people were already drunk and throwing up on the grass and in garbage cans, others were shamelessly rubbing on each other, while the rest was either in the pool or at the bar.

"Oh, there's Connie." She pointed at my brother who gave her a tight hug. "Look who's here!" she cheered shaking my shoulders.

"Hey," I smiled and hugged him. "All good?" he smiled down at me and pat my head. I nodded and threw him back a smile. "Aight then, I'm gonna get going. Take care." he pointed at me jogging backward and eventually turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

A pat on my shoulder made me turn around, a grin instantly forming on my lips when I noticed that this hand belonged to Sasha. She jumped in my arms, squeezing me tightly. "Jeez I thought you were dead, never isolate yourself like that again." I chuckled taking a bite of her hot dog. "Hey!" she smacked my arm almost making me choke on the meat.

We caught up on a few things, our conversation getting steamier as Hitch began to mention her sex life and how we should be taking notes.

“No, but really, all jokes aside. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re not getting laid. I don’t even think you know how to pull men anymore babe, full offense.” She took a swing of her beer and shrugged her shoulders. I scoffed, clearly offended.

“Working my ass off for college doesn’t change anything in my flirting techniques.” I scoffed “You know what? I’ll prove it to you right now. Your pick.” I raised my hands up, challenging her. Sasha jumped in excitement next to me while Hitch was inspecting our surroundings.

“Him.” she pointed at the bar. I scrunched my face when I saw a guy who looked musty and crusty. “Girl, not him. Him.” she held my jaw with her hand and tilted my head. My eyes landed on a tall male, manspreading on the stool as his back was leaning against the wooden bar, watching everyone’s move. His elbows were resting on the wood, his right hand holding his drink, swirling it around.

He looked delicious with his tight black shirt and chinos, squeezing him in all the right places. His hair was slicked back, almost dropping to his shoulders. His facial features weren’t clear enough due to the distance I was standing from, but his jawline looked good enough.

He didn’t look like he was expecting company or was here with someone. I smirked and shook her hand, accepting her challenge. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make out with him. You’ve kissed strangers before. I’d like to see if you still have the balls to do it.” I shook my head with a grin. Frankly, I was expecting her to task me with something much worse.

“Done.” Sasha jumped in excitement and Hitch shook my hand. “Watch, and learn.” I turned on my heels and walked to the bar where he was sitting.

“Hey you,” I hissed, getting his attention. “Don’t move,” I whispered as I positioned myself between his legs and grabbed his jaw, placing my lips on his.

From here it could go two ways: he either pushes me off and tells me he’s into guys- yes it happened before, not a pleasant memory- or he kisses me back.

At first, he was shaken. However, it didn’t take him too long to snake his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him, deepening the kiss. He freed his hand from the glass he was holding and wrapped it around the back of my neck, pushing me closer.

I parted my lips, his tongue gently sliding in and toying with mine. When I finally decided it was enough, I let go of him and pulled away, a slight trail of saliva hanging from our lips.

Without adding any other word, I grinned at him and left. He didn’t say anything and sincerely I’m glad he didn’t. He clearly enjoyed it as well.

“Oh my God you actually did that.” she squeaked, shaking my shoulders.

“Hitch, it's not the first time. Also, he was a good kisser. Now, do you believe me?”

She sighed in defeat and nodded. Sasha was long gone, probably dragged to the dance floor by Connie and soon enough Marlo was here to drag Hitch too. I found this as an opportunity to go to the bathroom.

To my surprise, it was empty and clean. I checked if my mascara was still intact and if I needed to fix my lipstick. While I was applying some lipstick on, a group of girls came in, obviously tipsy, and started talking about the guys they wanted to fuck.

“There’s this tall dude with long hair, ugh girl I just want to hump him.” one of them giggled, leaning on her friend for support.

“Stephanie!! He was with a black-haired girl, don't be a slut.” her friend smacked her.

I cocked my eyebrow and added some mascara. I gathered my stuff and texted Hitch that I was going back home.

It was getting lame and my brother was in no way to be seen. I’m sure Hitch and Sasha would understand. I’ve been too focused on my studies and partying wasn’t what I needed right now.

I walked to the gates and waited for a taxi.

“Already leaving?” a voice echoed behind me, startling me. I jumped around to be met with the same dude I made out with, this time, a leather jacket resting on his shoulders.

Great.

“I’m not feeling it.” I shrugged.

“You can’t leave alone. Some dudes are total creeps.” He walked to me. His tall frame towering over me, the mixture of alcohol and perfume intoxicating me.

“You could easily be one of them. I don’t know you.”

“Well, if I were, you wouldn’t have made out with me for starters. You look mature enough to distinguish a gentleman from a douchebag.” He grinned, pushing my hair behind my shoulders.

“A gentleman?” I questioned, toying with the pockets of his jacket.

“Only if you want me to be,” he mumbled, raising my chin with his index finger.

We stared at each other for a while. I knew he was another stranger, but he made me feel aroused. Maybe Hitch was right. Maybe I needed some relief. So I did what I thought I’d never do.

“Come over. My brother is having fun at this stupid party and I doubt he’ll be back any time soon.”

I could tell he was hesitating, and to be honest, his silence made me question if I made the right decision asking him to come over. He looked like he didn’t want to take advantage of me. A true gentleman, I thought.

I didn’t really care though. We were both taking advantage of each other in this situation, knowing that we will probably never see each other again after this. It was a one-time thing.

I did have, however, a feeling that I’ve seen him before, but the booze wasn’t making me think straight and I shrugged it off. He didn’t seem to recognize me so there was nothing to be worried about.

“On one condition.” he spoke up. I tilted my head waiting for him to proceed. “Tonight, I’m in control.”

I chuckled and nodded. “If that’s what you want, cowboy then sure thing.”

“Jean.” he handed out his hand for me to shake.

“Y/n.”

***

It didn’t take us a lot of time to find his car and get to my place. As a matter of fact, our clothes dropped instantly on the floor as soon as we went through my bedroom door.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbled between kisses, his hand folding my breast. I giggled throwing my head back, my fingers playing with his hair.

His hands traveled down my body, parting ways as one pressed against my heat and the other squeezed my ass. He worked his digits between my folds, my fingers digging in his shoulders.

He gathered my slick before pushing it back with his middle and ring finger.

“Fuck Jean,” I moaned out. I pushed him closer, licking him from the base of his neck to his earlobe, and gently sucked it.

He sighed and backed me until I reached my bed. “Relax now,” He pushed me down on the mattress and spread my legs. I grabbed my pillow and placed it underneath my hips.

He sat on his knees and put my legs on his shoulders, my cunt a few inches away from him. Locking eyes with me, he gave my opening a long lick.

I hissed as he licked my slit, his thumb rubbing small circles to my clit. My hands gripped onto my sheets, my hips bucking. Damn, he was good.

“Shit, ahh, Jean,” I whimpered, his fingers now massaging my insides as his tongue played with my clit. He hummed against me, sending vibrations all over my heat.

I squealed as I felt myself get closer, my legs shakings on his shoulders.

“Be a good girl and come all over my face eh?” he seduced his fingers going faster inside me, occasionally curling to hit my sweet spot.

“I’m so close, fuck fuck fuck fuck.” I chanted gripping his hair, my head pushing down the mattress as my orgasm drove me over the edge.

He stood back up, his stubble coated with my wetness. He sucked his fingers before making them pop out of his mouth.

“Tastes as good as it looks.” He chuckled. “Spread them lips for me again baby let me see your mess”. he purred pushing his hair back.

Doing as I’m told, I spread my folds with my index and middle finger and bit my lip before running another finger between them, feeling my slick. He groaned as I touched myself, slightly playing with my swollen clit.

“You want me?” Jean stroked himself as I dipped my fingers inside me. I nodded biting harder on my lower lip, watching as he pumped himself, his vein now conspicuous.

He kneeled on my bed, pulling me closer to him. “Then take me.” And with that, he rammed himself in. I yelped at the painful stretch, his hands holding my hips. I grabbed his wrist with a hand and tried to reach my headboard with the other.

Once given the green light, he started moving slowly in and out, making sure I was comfortable. Gentleman alright.

His pace was steady, the moonlight lighting his side. He looked absolutely handsome. I wasn’t fragile, nor delicate whatsoever. Still, he didn’t fuck me just to please himself. He wanted to please me and feel me as much as I wanted to.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you okay?” I nodded with a smile. Jean’s thrusts became faster and harder. The deep long strokes were just appetizers for what he was keeping in store. He was big, but he felt incredibly nice.

My room soon was filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other along with my moans and his grunts.

I was already feeling sensitive from my first orgasm, and his strokes were my g-spot almost perfectly. I was a panting mess beneath him, my makeup smudged across my face.

“Ah fuck, you’re choking me so fucking good.” he whimpered throwing his head back. Droplets of sweat trailed down from his toned chest to his abs. I stared at his tattoos and how they complimented him.

“Feel it y/n.” he grabbed my hand and placed it on my lower stomach. Shit.

“I’m gonna cum again, oh fuck, Jean.” I whimpered, his hips rocking my body. I squirmed under him, his thumb rubbing my pink bud, adding more friction.

I wailed as I felt my orgasm rip through my body, his thrusts getting sloppier. I knew he was close.

Fortunately, I’m always on the pill, so I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him down. “I want you to fill me up, please,” I begged, his face buried in my neck, leaving a love bite.

“I’m going to fill you up so good, so damn good.” He lifted my waist with his arms and pulled me closer. “Fuck, yes, oh fuck, yes.” he whimpered in my ear as he emptied himself in me, warming my walls with his semen.

We lead there for a while, motionless. His dick was limp inside me, his arms still holding me.

He feels warm. I don’t want to move. No, he has to move. I don’t do aftercare.

“That was good,” I said breaking the silence. Jean rolled to his side, his cum instantly leaking out of me as pulled out.

“Indeed. Thank you.” I chuckled at his silly response.

“You don’t thank someone for having sex with them dumbass.” A smile formed on his lips as he stood up to grab some tissues from my nightstand to clean me up.

“I’m a gentleman, remember?” he cleaned off our cum and tossed the tissues in my garbage can. “I should get going, we don’t want your brother to go nuts on you.” I nodded and pulled the sheets to cover my nude body. It was a shame that he was leaving, but as I said, I never did aftercare when it came to casual sex.

He put on his briefs and began pulling up his bottoms, however, the most unexpected thing happened, making him stop in his tracks.

“Hey, y/n I brought you some- Jean?!” Connie yelled dropping the bag of chips he was holding.

“Connie?!” Jean who was now half-clothed yelled back.

“Are you- oh my god- did I just sleep with your sister?” He panicked, holding his head with both hands.

I smacked my mouth, my eyes wide open. What the fuck was I supposed to do in a situation like that.

“You sure as hell did idiot!” my brother replied, now both of the males looking at me.

Well, that’s extremely awkward.

#aot fandom #aot x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean x reader smut #jean x you #jean kirschtein smut #jean smut #jean kirschtien

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing.

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish.

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views.

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that.

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in.

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss.

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid.

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you.

There it is.

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm.

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence.

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here.

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had.

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection.

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you.

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming.

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite.

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing.

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.”

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway.

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames.

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute.

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using.

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him.

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this.

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light.

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often.

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier.

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way.

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge.

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket.

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back.

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin.

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still.

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds.

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist.

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments.

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him.

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder.

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat.

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren.

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips.

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise.

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have.

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be.

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips.

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time.

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story.

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick.

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure.

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him.

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric.

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense.

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him.

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum.

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly.

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over.

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you.

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience.

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back.

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this.

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs.

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably.

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly.

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him.

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally.

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes.

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him.

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

4K notes · View notes

semisgroupie · 2 years

Text

decorations

Hinata Shoyo x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: soft sex, cumming inside, unprotected sex, very vanilla, timeskip spoilers, praise, MANY pet names, LOTS of l-bombs

Tagging: @nishinoyawn (MERRY CHRISTMAS)

A/N: merry Christmas noodle! Even though we do not interact much I’m so so so happy I got you and I was able to write shoyo for you! I hope you enjoy this little gift 🤍

Christmas music was blasting on the speaker and filled the apartment. In between getting the ornaments out of storage Shoyo took you and spun you around to dance with you making you laugh and a smile grow on his face. He loved spending time like this with you, with his busy schedule he cherished every little moment he had with you, especially times like this. He always loved the holidays but with you the holidays became so much better. So much more meaningful.

As you two decorated the tree he watched your eyes light up with each ornament. It made his heart warm and butterflies filled his stomach. Well, even more butterflies than before.

He had a little plan for tonight but he wasn’t sure on how to execute it. It was a special time for the both of you but he wanted to make it even more special. He put his hand in his pocket and brushed his fingers against the velvet box inside. He didn’t want to rush things and screw up miserably but he didn’t want to wait when you were tired.

So he just decided on waiting until the star was on top of the tree and when the lights of the tree would be on. It’ll create a nice ambiance and the lights would shine perfectly off your skin.

He turned his attention back to you and continued helping you decorate the tree. When it finally came to putting the star on top he turned to smile at you. “Ready for the best part?”

His smile grew with yours as you nodded. You held the star in your hands and Shoyo leaned down and lifted you on his shoulders so you could reach the top of the tree and perfectly place the star on it.

You both were thankful for his time in Brazil, he was more mature, his skin had that deliciously bronze tan and he became even stronger. His strength became useful in many ways and especially in the bedroom.

“And now we’re done!”

He put you back down on the floor once you perfected its position and quickly ran to shut off all the lights and then grabbed the two cords that would turn on the Christmas lights.

“Okay my love, are you ready?”

“Yes I am! Light this baby up!”

He chuckled and began the mini countdown,“3…2…1!”

At the end of the countdown the living room lit up as the lights on the tree came to life. His eyes were focused on you the entire time and he felt his heart beat faster. As your eyes became more focused on the tree he made his way over to you slowly and with shaky hands reached into his pocket. He opened the box and went down on one knee. His glossy eyes finally met your own and the diamond of the ring caught the light perfectly.

“Baby, I can’t even find the words now but you’ve made my life even better since we met. I thought my one true love was volleyball but it’s you. I love you more than anything. Please marry me?”

His brown eyes bore into yours while he chewed on his bottom lip, his heart was racing even more and when you nodded he couldn’t jump up fast enough. He pulled you in for a kiss and whispered thank you’s in between each kiss.

“I love you Shoyo.”

He smiled and pulled the ring from his box, he was still so excited he dropped the ring and quickly picked it up to put it on your finger. He pulled you in for another kiss and held you close to him.

“You make me the happiest man alive, baby. Now how about we celebrate this moment the right way?”

He wiggled his eyebrows and winked at you as his hands traveled down to your hips, gently squeezing the flesh.

“Mhm, let’s go.”

He lifted you up over his shoulder and practically ran to your shared bedroom. Once inside he tossed you on the bed and your clothes were strewn across the room. He leaned on top of you and peppered kisses to your lips while his ground his cock against your folds. While the action was teasing both of you, neither of you wanted to rush it.

One of his hands rested on your hip, rubbing small circles on it while he kissed you and in between kisses he proclaimed his love for you.

“You’re the most amazing girl I know. The love of my life. My soulmate. I can’t wait to wake up to you for the rest of my life.”

He didn’t even give you time to reply because each time you tried he placed his lips right back onto yours, taking your breath and words away. This went on for a couple of minutes and then he finally pulled away completely. Your hands moved up and down to trace along every bump and ridge on his chest and abdomen, feeling every muscle flex under your touch.

“Shoyo…please.”

You were already breathless and all you’ve done was kiss him while he teased your clit with the tip of his cock.

“I’ll go slow angel, I’ll properly love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you once more while he lined up with your entrance, you spread your legs for him a bit more and he slowly slid the fat head of his cock inside you, slowly stretching you out. He slowly slid the rest of the inches in and looked down to watch how you split on his thick cock with a low groan.

“Fuck you’re perfect baby. My perfect angel.”

Once he bottomed out he rolled his hips against yours and captured your lips in another kiss. After a few minutes of feeling your plush walls adjust to his length he began moving, slowly moving his hips in and out of you.

How he was fucking you now was the exact same way he fucked you when your relationship first got sexual. He took his time with you, making sure you felt every drag of his cock against your walls and it was as if he was trying to memorize the feeling of you wrapped around him.

He pulled away only slightly so his lips ghosted over yours as he thrusted in and out of you. Your whimpers and moans of his name were soon mixed with his groans and whispers of praise. Whispers as if he didn’t want anyone but you to hear what came out of his mouth.

And he didn’t.

They were only meant for your ears only.

“My sweet angel, my one and only. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Every moment I spend with you I fall more in love with you, I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you. I didn’t even think there would be someone like you, like you were made just for me. I’ll never let you go, you’re mine. All mine.”

Each word was emphasized with a thrust and his thrusts became faster with each word. Now skin slapping against skin added to the many noises in the bedroom.

“I love you Shoyo. I love you so much. You’re going to be my handsome husband, I love you!”

He muffled your moans and proclamations with his own lips, swallowing all of your sweet sounds. One of his hands snaked down from cupping your face to your clit rubbing firm circles on the swollen nub, moving it in time with his thrusts. He continued his movements and groaned as you tightened around him.

“Cum for me angel, you always look so beautiful when you cum. Cum for me.”

It took a few more thrusts and you were coming undone around his cock, your cries of his name were muffled by his lips and he continued thrusting through your orgasm. Soon he was cumming inside you, thick, spurts of his hot cum filled you to the brim and he groaned your name against your lips.

He kissed you a few more times before pulling away to let you both catch your breath. His hand moved from your clit to your side and the hand that remained on your cheek soothingly rubbed your cheek. A soft smile remained on his face that mirrored yours.

“I love you so much Shoyo.”

You placed your left hand over his and he leaned down to kiss your ring finger.

“And I love you. Merry Christmas my love.”

#hinata shoyo smut #hq hinata smut #hinata shoyo fluff #hinata smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #tw unprotected sex

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2jaeh · 3 years

Text

ORPHIC : YUTA X READER

genre: smut, angst

warnings: mature themes, enemies to lovers kinda, kinda toxic theme, multiple smut scenes, swearing, alcohol, toys.

slight jenoxreader

word count : 17,5k (sorrry he’s my ult)

author: sin!

You and Yuta never had a good relationship within your group of friends. The closest the two of you ever came to even slightly caring about each other was...in bed. After some friendly advice you decide to venture out of this toxicity and an old friend comes to the rescue. Thinking things will finally settle and you are ready to move on, Yuta comes to the realization that he wasn't a fan of you leaving him for someone else.

A/N: WHOA this took me so long to write and rn its 2am and I barely proofread anything and just wanted to post it already! ALSO I just wanted to add Jeno is practically my ult as well and I wanted to use him for this scenario ! I promise Ill make it up to you guys with a full length fic of him lol Anyways enjoy.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You couldn’t understand why you hated him so much. Was it the way he did his hair ? The way he rolled his eyes at every snarky remark you directed at him ?

Or was it the way he stared at you from across the room, a smirk on his face signaling that it was going to be one of those nights.

You joined this collective of artists or the “blank space” as you were known to the public, a year ago. The team did everything from clothing to organizing crazy exhibitions, and the best part of it all was that the team members remained anonymous.

Now some of the members were already in the spotlight for their personal artworks and collections but anything under blank space was under that name only, promoted only under its respective social media accounts. The collective was founded by Taeyong, an introverted guy you met at a fashion show you once worked at. He approached you the night your art hit the runway and you’ve been working for him ever since.

You didn’t know everybody under Blank Space except for the people Taeyong trusted the most. Which from possibly 50 designers, only reduced to a total of nine close friends.

Taeyong, Johnny, Ten, Renjun, YangYang, Doyoung, Sungchan, Lucas and You.

And then, there was one person you called a friend when the mood was right. When he was not being an absolute pain in the ass.

Yuta Nakamoto.

————————————————————————

“So there’s a launch happening this weekend over at the shed” Taeyong announced to your friend group who were barely paying attention thanks to Yangyang attempting to stuff four marshmallows into his mouth. “Come on you can do one more” Lucas edged him on while Renjun shook his head disapprovingly and Sungchan tried to suppress his laughter.

“Guys please pay attention” Doyoung, the only type of authority around here spoke up, finally quieting down the room and allowing his best friend to speak.

Taeyong cleared his throat and shifted nervously as all eyes were focused on him again. “I’d like all of us to attend, maybe look for a new recruit” the timid pink haired boy spoke and everyone nodded knowing the routine of these launches at this point.

“Can we party hard or is this just one of those save face kinda gigs ?” Yuta raised his hand and the spark in Lucas’s eyes indicated that he may have had the same idea.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your leg over the other, “Yuta’s having a dry spell he wants to find some damsel in distress to get into his bed” you turned to him and he only smirked at your snarky comment.

“Well now y/n it’s only because you haven’t been in the mood for my dick lately” he pouted and Renjun threw his head back, followed by groans from both Johnny and Ten.

“I’m not in the mood for the two of you today seriously” Ten chimed in, rubbing his temples just waiting for this group meeting to be over. “Yeah me too” Johnny added, “you two fight the entire week then hook up over the weekend, we are tired.”

“Why are you guys tired ? Are you doing the fighting and fucking ?” Yuta scoffed and Doyoung jumped to his feet, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at the scowling black haired man,

“This is a work meeting. If it's not about work” Doyoung eyes moved to you, “then we don’t want to hear about it.”

You nodded after getting reprimanded but Yuta being Yuta just snickered and downed the rest of his coffee, unbothered by what any of the people in the room had to say about him.

“Okay then well I’ll see you guys Friday night, if you find a possible recruitment just text the group chat and we will decide as a team then and there” Taeyong wrapped up the meeting and everyone dispersed back to their work stations to finish up any outstanding projects.

Blank Space had its own office block but you guys were the only ones with a private floor at the very end of the hallway, far away from the part-timers.

Everyone had their own cubicle made up of makeshift drywall, so it was private but not private enough. Taeyong felt that closed offices made no sense for a room of creatives and when working on bigger projects it was easier for members to move their stations to their partners' cubicles.

Your cubicle though had the unfortunate fate of being placed in front of Yuta. The members had tried to swap with either of you but neither of you budged. Moving meant there was a problem and showing that you had an actual problem with the other person meant it could sabotage the team and things may go sour.

So both of you conceded. Trying your absolute best to stay out of the other person's way during work hours. But it was impossible when bickering was just something you guys did.

From the very beginning You and Yuta had disagreed on almost everything. Both of you were pretty stubborn people and had a very similar mindset. Then on a random drunken night Johnny suggested that you and Yuta needed to release your anger in bed and the next day you’d be best friends. Yuta was pretty adamant on the idea and not only did you hook up once, it became this ongoing hell of fighting, building up your anger and releasing it during mind blowing sex.

Neither of you questioned the abnormality of your relationship. Rather, you ignored the red flags and the toxicity of it all and just assumed attraction only happened through liquor, high sexual needs and boredom.

“Hey y/n sorry about snapping like that earlier” Doyoung stepped into your cubicle, his gummy smile showing as he nervously scratched his head. “It’s no problem, I’m sorry about my stupid comment” you pressed your lips together feeling a tad guilty that it all started because of you.

“You guys really love riling each other up don’t you?” Doyoung took a seat opposite you which was a bit unnatural for anyone who walked by. Doyoung was a very reserved person and never bothered to converse with any of you besides Taeyong. Unlike the rest of you Doyoung was recruited to handle finances and foresee the operation. He appreciated the arts but never delved in it, hence his awkwardness with the openness and unhinged personalities of the group.

“I get that it can be...exhausting” you sighed, propping your elbows up on the counter and pouting.

“Then why do you continue ?” Doyoung quizzed and you shrugged, “stress relief ?”

Doyoung chuckled at your words and pushed his spectacles up his bridge, “you guys are the ones stressing each other out,” Doyoung turned back to look at Yuta who was busy sketching and turned back to face you,

“All I’m saying is that maybe it’s time to look for a stress reliever that doesn’t result in anger the very next day, you guys need to move on.”

Move on.

Doyoung’s words swam in your mind hours after the short conversation had ended and you wondered if it was indeed time to move on. You looked up from your desk and to your surprise Yuta’s eyes were locked with yours as he twirled a lollipop in his mouth.

The issue was, as much as you hated him you couldn’t deny he was so goddamn hot. From the long hair to the edgy attire, physically he was your type. Personality on the other hand, it was like nails against a chalkboard.

Unbearable.

You kept your eyes locked with him until he slowly pulled the sweet out of his mouth, licked his lips and blew you a cheeky kiss from across the room.

“Moron” you mumbled and shook your head trying to ignore his devilish motives and get back to work.

Doyoung was right. You definitely needed to find someone to distract yourself from Yuta’s hold over you.

———————————————————————-

It was the night of the launch and everybody showed up with their own rides and began mingling with former clients and partners. You arrived with Ten and Lucas who already decided to pre-game drinks just in case ‘there wasn’t enough at the party.’

“Hey please do us a favor and not hook up with Yuta tonight” Ten wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you maneuvered through the groups of people. “Not planning on it” you replied in his ear, “and besides Doyoung already beat you to that pep talk.”

“Doyoung ?” Ten wrinkled his nose before ordering the two of you a mojito from the open bar.

“Yeah he said that I should move on, possibly find a new hookup” you shrugged, retrieving the drink and headed to a balcony that overlooked the first floor of the launch party. There were bodies of people everywhere, networking, checking out merchandise or just getting plain wasted.

“Seems like Lucas has already been cut off from the open bar” Ten pointed out, watching the tall man try to push his way back to the bar but the bouncer refused him to do so.

“Let me go help him out, I'll catch up later” Ten sighed and gave you a pat on your shoulder, “and yeah find a new hookup, if Yuta gets to sleep around so can you.”

You watched Ten disappear into the crowd and twirled the glass in your hand wishing what he had said was that easy.

There were no rules about hooking up with other people or just any reinforcements in general when it came to you and Yuta. But you we’re well aware of his loose sex life. There were many times where Yuta ended up going home with some random person if he wasn’t in the mood to hook up with you. But You on the other hand, never bothered these days because you were either too busy or whoever you met just ended up boring you to death.

“Y/n ?” You heard someone say from behind you and to your surprise it was a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Jeno ? Oh my God” you quickly gave the blonde boy a quick hug, taken back by how much he had filled out since high school.

Jeno used to help you out from time to time during proms and fashion shows, lending out his strength to build anything from sculptures to installation art in the city.

“I was wondering when I was going to bump into you at one of these shows” his bright smile turned his eyes into crescents as he joined you at the balustrade. The Jeno you knew in high school was a lanky shy kinda guy but the Jeno you saw now was confident, mature and outright gorgeous.

“I’m quite surprised seeing you here actually” you chuckled shyly, “I didn’t know you’d pursue anything in this field to be honest.”

“Wow” Jeno mouthed and cutely grinned, “hmm that kinda hurt considering I’m the one who made the centerpiece of this entire launch”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the structure of colored sharpies bound together to create a giant rubix cube in the middle of the party. “Holy shit that’s awesome my boss would absolutely love you” you gasped, knowing Taeyong absolutely loved installation art especially at a large scale like this.

“Oh who’s your boss ? I’m actually a free agent right now” Jeno replied and you quickly remembered the reason you were even at the launch in the first place. “Wait! We’re looking for recruits right now, let me just tell the others about it” you said excitedly, handing Jeno your drink and pulled up the group chat on your phone.

A few minutes later everyone confirmed the meeting place of a private room located on the second floor, quiet enough for a quick interview and decision. The best part of this job was everyone was so connected that there was no need to go through the process of a full portfolio look and a million interviews, all you needed was a trusted ally within the group to vouch for you and you were already one foot in.

“Ten and Yangyang took Lucas home after he tried to challenge the bartender to an arm wrestling match” Johnny entered the room and sipped his whiskey while Renjun and Sungchan followed close behind him. Taeyong and Doyoung stood in front of the room discussing something amongst themselves while you and Jeno took a seat on the burgundy couch.

Yuta entered shortly after, drink in hand and you noticed his eyes narrow in on Jeno who sat close to you. “Okay everyone who’s able to make it is here let’s get started” Taeyong clasped his hands together, “everybody this is Jeno Lee and a long time friend of y/n.”

“Not that long but yeah we did work together” Jeno chuckled and got to his feet, “well I’m an installation artist, I actually made the centerpiece in tonight’s launch.”

“Wow, it's amazing!” Renjun complimented and Sungchan agreed, giving Jeno a thumbs up, “yeah man that piece is brilliant.”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear as the meeting proceeded with everyone going through a few of Jenos works and what he could bring to the team. While your teammates concentrated on Jenos work all you could concentrate on was Jeno himself.

You wondered if Jeno knew how gorgeous he was in his effortless tank top and denim jeans combo. You hoped no one caught you staring but someone was well aware of your actions.

Yuta watched how you looked at the young guy, he wasn’t stupid, he knew when you found someone attractive and the way you were ogling Jeno right now, he didn’t like it at all.

The meeting ended and everyone welcomed Jeno to the collective. Johnny gave him a few pointers on which coffee to order from the cafe next to the office and Sungchan exchanged gamer tags with his new friend.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday” you waved as everyone exited the meeting and before you could make your way to catch up with Jeno and Sungchan you were being pulled back into the room.

“Your place or mine ?” Yuta mused and snaked an arm around your waist, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“Neither” you responded, “I’m gonna hang with Jeno and head home, you should find that little damsel to play with”

“Don’t be difficult y/n we're long overdue for our therapy session now” he groaned, pressing his lips to your ear and jaw. As much as he aroused you by just breathing you thought about what Doyoung had said, you needed to move on from this mess.

“Listen I think we need to just stop our sessions” you stepped away from him leaving Yuta slightly taken back from your actions, “let’s move on, be out of each other’s way and not make the group uncomfortable okay ?”

Yuta watched you press your lips together and finally make your exit, leaving him completely alone. You denied his advances for the first time since the two of you started sleeping together and something in him broke.

————————————————————————

Monday came around and the whole team buzzed about Jeno joining the team. Usually a new recruit would hang downstairs with the part time designers but because Taeyong trusted your judgement on Jeno, he was able to integrate with the team.

“Man that Jeno guy seems real chill” Yangyang hopped alongside Johnny and Yuta who were doing the morning coffee run. Yuta kept his composure despite knowing he wasn’t a huge fan of someone new joining the team and throwing off the dynamic. Hands in his pocket he ignored Yangyangs endless questions about the meeting, allowing Johnny to entertain the eager young boy.

“All I know is that having Jeno around means I don’t have to do all the carrying when Lucas bails on me” Johnny sipped his drink as they made their way back to their office. To their surprise Jeno had just arrived, looking like a lost puppy as he examined the names of the floors next to the secretary desk.

“Speak of the devil” Johnny threw his arm around Jeno, startling the boy and led him over to the elevator, “we’re at the top floor newbie, make sure to get an access card from Taeyong.”

“T-thanks” Jeno grinned and bowed politely to both Yuta and Yangyang before stepping into the elevator. The other guys barely bothered with Yuta’s reaction to Jeno because he rarely liked anyone enough to show any sign of enthusiasm. Jeno wasn’t going to change that.

The elevator opened to the top floor and Jeno awed at the chilled atmosphere you all had created here. From Ten’s thousands of plants around the room, Taeyongs fish, a pool table brought in by Lucas and gaming stations set up by Sungchan, it looked like paradise.

“This....is so cool oh my God” Jeno stepped in, his eyes wandering all over the place until it locked on you hanging over at the fish tank with Taeyong.

“Y/n!” Jeno jogged over and you greeted him with a wide smile and a tight hug, “Jeno you made it!” You gleamed. Jeno quickly shook Taeyong’s hand unsure of how formal of a boss he actually was.

“Whoa I feel like a principal” Taeyong giggled as he dropped a few fish flakes for his babies. “Wow, does everybody have their own cubicle ?” Jeno strolled around the room taking a peak at the vast versions of decor each cubicle adorned.

“Yeah” you responded, “but I don’t think yours is ready yet right Doyoung ?”

“That’s right,” Doyoung replied and folded his arms across his chest, “you don’t mind sharing for the week do you ?”

Jeno shrugged and looked over at you, “I was hoping to catch up with y/n anyway, I don’t mind sharing if it’s okay with you ?”

“It’s perfectly fine” you assured him and gestured over to your cubicle, “me casa is su casa.”

“I’m just gonna need some admin stuff sorted Jeno can you join me for a bit ?” Doyoung asked and Jeno nodded, giving you a quick hug before heading off to the administration offices with Doyoung. You watched the blonde guy exit and something just felt so much brighter in the office. You felt a sense of excitement of what’s to come now that Jeno was back in your life. But like all sunny days there always comes a thunderstorm and yours was staring you down like he was waiting to rain on your parade.

“What ?” You blinked, and Yuta shrugged as he peeked into your cubicle. “It’s a bit small isn’t it ? Don’t think two people can work in here” he raised his brow and looked over at you.

“It’s fine” you sighed and pushed past him, “it’s only for a week and he’s not a stranger to me, why do you care ?”

“I don’t” Yuta mumbled, dragging his feet back to his cubicle leaving you questioning his slightly odd behavior. Your mind quickly snapped out of it when Jeno had made his way back, that bright smile spread across his face and suddenly it felt like sunshine filled the room once more.

“I’m back!” He sang and pulled a chair opposite you, retrieving his laptop already looking like a regular in the office.

“Did Doyoung tell you about tonight ? Our little welcoming party over at Kleo’s Sky Bar ?” You asked, skimming through your emails for the day. “Oh, yeah he did, I mean you guys don’t have to do all of this” Jeno chuckled shyly, those pretty eyes distracting you for the third time that day.

“Nah we do it for everyone, and it’s better you know everyone drunk to avoid future surprises” you pointed over to Lucas who was coaching Yangyang through a trick shot at the pool table. “Gotcha” Jeno nodded, as he watched one of the balls fly off the table and nearly knock Renjun in the back. It was chaos absolutely everyday in the office and you knew Jeno was going to love it here.

But even with Jeno in front of you, your new distraction, your new beginning, like Doyoung and Ten had said you needed, it was a habit at this point to look across the room, wondering what Yuta was up to. You watched him remove his cardigan, exposing his arms in those loose tank tops he always loved to wear as he concentrated on a sketch in front of him. Thankfully he was fully immersed in his work for once to take notice of your eyes on him. You continued observing him, watching him nod along to probably some alternative song blaring in his headphones as he sketched away on his iPad. He was so effortlessly attractive when he wasn’t aware of it.

You needed to snap out of this daydream.

“So are you seeing anyone these days ?”

“Hmm ?”

Jeno laughed as you finally realized that he’d been talking to you and you mentally cursed yourself for even being distracted by Yuta of all people.

“I’m sorry..Uhm no I’m not seeing anyone” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and Jeno nodded cutely, “uh good...uhm not good that you’re alone but I was hoping you weren’t...God I’m still so bad at this”

You felt your cheeks heat up seeing Jeno fumble over his words and get nervous about asking you such a question. He was so adorable and something in you also wondered if he was like this in a relationship, or in the bedroom.

Was he dominant ? Was he passive ? Yuta was very dominant and you’d even rile him up to the point of him making you shut up with his actions.

“Y/n ?” Jeno waved his hand in front of your face and you shook your head, you couldn’t believe you did it again. What the hell was wrong with you ?

“Oh my God Jeno I'm so sorry...these emails are just a pain in the ass” you lied but thankfully Jeno took the bait and nodded, “it’s okay I’ll let you get back to work, I was going to go down to the cafe, do you want anything ?”

“Yeah a cafe latte would be great thank you” You felt guilty but it was still only two days since you decided to cut off Yuta so adjusting was going to take a bit of time.

Jeno had left for the cafe and you quickly dove straight into your work, hoping the time would just fly by. That was until you heard a knock and watched Yuta saunter into your cubicle and take a seat right in front of you. You watched him prop his elbows on the table and his piercing eyes narrowed down on you as if he were waiting for an answer.

“Why are you here ?” You questioned him, doing your best to divert your attention from his chiseled arms and exposed chest.

“I want an explanation,” Yuta said calmly, his voice deep and monotone.

“To what ?” You knew fully well what he was talking about but you were really not in the mood to talk to him about this. Yuta sighed and cocked his head to the side, clearly annoyed by your response. “Why the fuck are we calling it quits when we are nothing to each other ? Can’t we just hook up and ignore each other as usual ?” You sensed the annoyance in his voice. Denying him that night was indeed eating him up since you’ve never done it before.

“Yuta that’s the whole point” you rubbed your temples, “if we are nothing to each other then we shouldn’t be hooking up, it just ties us together for absolutely no reason.”

Yuta stayed quiet for a bit and eventually just nodded, “fine do whatever you want I guess.” You watched him walk out, not bothering to give you a second look and you wondered if the unsettling feeling you were experiencing in this moment was how he felt two days ago.

Nothing made sense.

————————————————————————

The evening arrived and everyone was in good spirits because you were all headed to one of your favourite spots in town. “Lucas you gotta do karaoke tonight” Sungchan threw his arm around the large brown haired man as they entered the bar. “Hmm give me a few rounds of drinks first” Lucas stuck out his tongue as he gestured to the waitress to get the gang the usual table.

Thankfully tonight the bar was fairly empty which meant that the gang could really loosen up without the prying eyes of strangers wishing you’d all just leave.

“Wow this place is pretty cool” Jeno gleamed, allowing you to enter the booth first like a true gentleman before scooting right in next to you. Yuta opted for the seat at the very end as usual, so he could sneak off to smoke without bothering any of friends every couple of minutes. The position also gave him a clear view of you and Jeno who were snuggled up in the corner already lost in your own private conversation.

“Beer ?” Johnny nudged Yuta, snapping him out of his fixation. Yuta nodded and slumped back in his seat trying his best to focus on whatever Renjun and Yangyang were talking about. It’s not like him to feel this way. Usually by now he’d be seated next to you, annoying the shit out of you until he saw those pretty eyes glare at him with rage. Then after you’d have a few drinks you’d be leaning on his shoulder, playing with his rings until he offered to take you home, and then-

“To Jeno!” Lucas yelled, lifting up a shot glass of God knows what and rallied everyone to join in on his toast.

“To Jeno” you grinned leaning into Jeno’s side and clinked glasses with him. Jeno felt warm, comforting, he made it so easy for you to just enjoy having him around rather than it being a task. That’s what a healthy relationship was like wasn’t it ?

“Jeno Im glad and also sorry that you have to join the most annoying group of people ever” Doyoung half smiled and Taeyong waved his hand, “we’re not that annoying Jeno I promise” the pink haired boy reassured him despite Renjun and Ten agreeing with Doyoung’s words. Jeno just laughed it off and turned to you with a bright smile as he draped his arm over your shoulder,

“Kinda feels like fate that I bumped into you huh?”

You know he may have been joking but Jeno was really unaware that his presence really was the antidote to getting rid of the Yuta situation. The team loved him, he was someone you knew and could trust, it was all right there for you, written on paper. Nothing could possibly go wrong… right ?

“Fourth round is on me” Taeyong held up his card to the waitress despite his tired eyes were quite evident. Everyone was well over tipsy and Lucas had already entertained the bar with his beautiful rendition of “Starboy” by The Weeknd and Johnny stepped in as his air guitar player in the back.

“Gotta go to the bathroom!” You whined while Jeno helped you to your feet as you pushed your way past a sleeping Renjun and a spaced out Sungchan. You could tell tonight was going to take a toll on everyone tomorrow morning.

You quickly exited to the back where the bathrooms were located. You walked down the dim hallway, mentally thanking yourself for not overdoing it with the alcohol as each step became darker and darker.

“Watch your step” someone said and you turned around to see Yuta leaning over a railing with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

“Yeah” you managed to say and entered the bathroom before he could say anything else. The lack of alcohol didn’t stop the intrusive thoughts of Yuta filling your mind as you stopped to wash your hands. All you could think about was if he was going to be there when you walked back. Was he going to say anything ? Was he going to do anything ?

Were you going to do anything ?

You stepped outside, head a little more muddled than when you walked in and your first question was answered, Yuta was still there leaning up against the wall looking ahead of him. You slowly began your journey back, keeping your head down to avoid any type of confrontation with him.

“Y/n….” He mumbled, reaching out until he had a grip on your wrist causing your eyes to look up at him. Why did he look so goddamn breathtaking right now, with his stupid black hair all messy and his eyes luring you in like a lion to it’s prey.

“W-what ?” You replied, unsure why you still allowed him to hold you or even have the nerve to stop you from getting back to the rest of your friends. Yuta pushed himself off the wall and turned your body so you were now pressed against the concrete and his body was pressed against you. Your breathing hitched as he ran his fingers lightly down your arms. His eyes concentrated on his movements while yours focused on his face, watching him bite down on his lip as he took in the position the two of you were now in.

“You remember a few weeks back and I had you up against this wall moaning my name ?” His voice was so low that it aroused you, making you mentally curse yourself for the lewd thoughts.

“Yuta…” you sighed but there was a hint of desperation in your voice surprising yourself but not really phasing Yuta at all.

“Yeah just like that” he hummed before pressing his lips to your jaw, and peppered kisses all the way down to your neck. You felt yourself willingly giving him access, melting into every kiss he placed on your warm skin. Yuta’s hands grabbed your waist and pinned you against the wall while your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck and into the soft tufts of his hair.

“Yuta…we shouldn’t…I shouldn’t” you breathed, feeling yourself pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop y/n '' Yuta said into your ear to which you responded by pulling him by his belt buckle and pushed yourself up to capture his lips. Yuta’s dominance finally showed when he slipped his leg in between yours, giving you the chance to gain a bit of friction your core so desperately desired at this point. You felt Yuta’s smirk in your kiss when you began grinding down on his thigh showing him the obedient whore you were for him. Nothing Yuta loved more was for you to beg for him, beg for his touch, need him. That was until the two of you heard footsteps and to your dismay it was the last person you’d ever want to see you trapped against a wall with the man you hated.

It was Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry I - I’m sorry I’ll leave you guys alone-“ Jeno stumbled, he felt his cheeks heat up and made his quick exit out of the hallway.

“Jeno!” You called, pushing Yuta off and tried to neaten yourself. Yuta felt a heated sensation overcoming his body the moment he saw the look in your eye when you saw Jeno and the way you pushed him off like he was a piece of trash. Like he was nothing.

“You know maybe if you’d stop pretending like you don’t wanna fuck me then we can go back to normal” Yuta spat, not caring about the unfortunate situation that had just unfolded.

You turned around to face him and the next words that came out of your mouth you weren’t sure if you were going to regret it or not.

“You’re right Yuta that’s all you are to me and that’s all you ever will be, a good fuck for about an hour and that’s it. Other than that there’s no use for you. At all.”

You stormed away before Yuta could respond, but by now you would have heard his curses echoing throughout the hallway, the whole damn bar would’ve heard it. But there was nothing.

Absolute silence.

———————————————————————

It had been two weeks since the interaction with Yuta at the bar and what you had to him still resonated with you, wanting so badly to apologize. But each time you saw him at the office he paid you little to no attention, going on about his day peacefully and you didn’t want to interrupt that.

Jeno thankfully understood the situation and was more than willing to be the rebound guy, his only rule being that besides work related matters you needed to cut off communication with Yuta altogether.

‘It was the only way you’d get full closure and my mind would be at peace’ Jeno had said after you gave him the rundown of everything that had happened.

Jeno and you agreed to just casually date, nothing official and nothing too serious. You guys went on movie dates, cafe dates and kept the physical aspect to a minimum. It was simple. Laidback. A very normal form of dating.

“Y/n I’m gonna need you on a photo shoot set in a few hours” Taeyong peeped his head into your cubicle and you looked up at him with a frown, “I thought we were working on that rappers record party ?”

“Yeah that rapper wants you, Yangyang and Yuta to tag up the wall for a video segment of his photo shoot” Taeyong replied with a shrug and left you bewildered.

Yuta. From all the damn people he could’ve chosen you had to work beside the person who practically called trash in your last meeting.

Great.

You wrapped up the last of your work and headed downstairs to the parking lot where an Uber was waiting for you. Thankfully Yangyang could talk anyone’s head off because just sitting next to Yuta during the car ride felt tense. Normally he’d be pushing you into Yangyang or commenting on how his tattoos were better than yours. But all he did was look out of the window watching as the buildings moved past, keeping his airpods in to avoid any type of communication with anyone.

“You guys are finally here! Good Mark Lee is waiting for you at the shoot location” a woman dressed in all black led you into what looked like a gymnasium turned into a giant canvas.

“Are we going to paint all of this ? Man this is going to take forever” Yangyang gasped as the three of you walked through cans of paint, staff members and models.

“You guys are the designers from black space who did that painting over at Jynx Club ?” A young guy approached who you quickly realized was the new hot rapper around town, Mark Lee.

“Uh yeah, that’s us” you chuckled shyly and looked around, “are we really doing up the entire room ?”

“Oh hell nah just the backdrop behind me” Mark waved his hand, “we just laid everything out for a few cgi effects but you guys, do ya thing over there!” You watched the hyped boy get called over by the director leaving the three of you faced with a gigantic piece of white board and no idea.

“Since you guys are uncultured and probably don’t listen to Mark Lee, let me be in charge of this piece” Yangyang pulled out his iPad and began scrolling through some of his sketches. “Be my guest” Yuta shrugged, completely disinterested in the topic and most likely just wanted to get done and go home.

Yangyang finally settled on something that utilized all three of your styles and you all put on your white overalls, immediately getting to work.

The vibe of the whole job was quite chilled and because of the fumes most of the staff had left the gymnasium leaving the three of you to work in peace. “God I need to pee so bad,” Yangyang groaned as he dangled from a ladder, an aerosol can in hand and a nearly completed section in his corner.

“Dude take a break we’re way behind you anyway” you walked over to steady the ladder as Yangyang finally made his way down. “Thanks guys, be back in 20” he shot you a thumbs up and disappeared into the tunnel leading to the gym lockers.

The tension returned but it was somehow worse than ever before. Even though Yuta was minding his own business for the first time while retrieving a paintbrush he looked at you. There was no unsettling glare or the feeling that he was pissed off at you, he just looked at you like he’d look at anyone else.

And somehow that felt even worse.

“Yuta…do you mind if we talk for a bit” you cleared your throat and he looked over at you and removed one of his airpods signaling to you that he was listening.

“Okay Uhm well I want to apologize for what I said that night” you bit down on your lip, “I didn’t mean it, and it was selfish of me to even think of you like that after coming onto you in the first place.”

Yuta blinked and eventually just nodded, “apology accepted, and I can see that you like Jeno so I’m trying to stay out of the way” he shrugged and continued painting as if this conversation wasn’t that deep to begin with.

“Are you not going to get me back? Are you sure you’re Yuta ?” You raised a brow and Yuta’s manic laugh echoed throughout the gymnasium, “you want me to be mean to you ? Wow y/n that’s truly some kink you got there”

“Ugh you know what I mean” you shoved him playfully, unaware that the brush you were wearing was still wet and now Yuta’s jaw adorned a light shade of orange.

“Oh shit I’m sorry” you quickly said but Yuta had already responded by swiping his red painted fingertips across your cheek and smirked, “now we’re even.”

“Hey mine is way worse than yours!” You grumbled and flicked more paint at Yuta which then enabled a paint war between the two of you. Yuta giggled so much that for a second you forgot how silent he actually had been the past two weeks. He was back to his usual self and so were you, playfully making a mess with him until Yangyang emerged from the tunnel and yelled, “What are you morons doing ?!”

You and Yuta stood still in the middle of the room both covered head to toe in paint but the scene was way too comical to hold in your laughter any longer.

“Yangyang we’re so sorry but look, it gave the canvas a little more color” you gestured to it and you weren’t lying, it actually did look a lot better than before.

“Fine you two can go on break, I'll finish up so we’re not sitting around until midnight” Yangyang huffed and returned to his masterpiece. “Is there a place to clean up here ?” Yuta asked and the woman from earlier on walked in and pointed to the tunnel located in the back of the gym, “there are bathrooms and showers back there, our crew provided fresh towels as well so go ahead” she smiled and you silently thanked her before heading to the tunnel with Yuta.

“God I have paint everywhere” you whined as you took a look at yourself in the mirror. Yuta chuckled as he began inspecting himself, looking at the peculiar fingerprints all over his face and neck. “This shit better not stain my skin” he grumbled as he picked away a piece of paint from a crevice in his ear. “Tell me about it” you responded and began removing the overalls. All you could think of was jumping into that shower stall and allowing the hot water to melt away all the grime and paint when you noticed Yuta was already down to his boxers.

Your gasp made Yuta snicker to himself as he walked around the bathroom looking for the ideal stall to take his shower in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before” you heard him say before hopping into one of the stalls and drawing the curtain. Despite his words being correct it still made your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You guys were comfortable like this before, not now, not with Jeno in your life.

You shook your head and entered a stall opposite Yuta and a few rows down, just so you weren’t close to him but not far enough that made you feel alone.

“Fuck how is their paint on my ass ? That’s impossible!” Yuta groaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, “TMI, Yuta” you replied and Yuta scoffed, “says the person who’s responsible for this.” The banter ended and again all you heard was the sound of both showers hitting your bodies simultaneously, the air filled with steam and more unusual tension.

“Y/n ?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta was silent for a while and then you heard his water turn off. “Do you uhm mind checking if I got all the paint off my back ? I’ll uhm put my boxers on” he mumbled and you felt your heartbeat speed up.

First of all the Yuta you knew would’ve just walked over butt ass naked and pulled your curtain aside not caring at all. The way he acted now was out of character, but somewhat familiar.

“Yuta I’m still in the shower and naked” you chewed on the inside of your cheek while you waited in silence.

“I’ll close my eyes, I just don’t want this shit to dry up when we get back to work later” he replied and you heard his light footsteps coming toward you. Quickly moving your hair back and holding the curtain against your body, you slowly peeled back the material to reveal Yuta with his back facing you and with his eyes closed, like he said.

You peered down at his golden skin, taking in his broad shoulders and tiny waist as you inspected for any more signs of acrylic paint.

“Uhm yeah you have a little on your shoulder blade and lower back”

“Do…you mind…”

You bit down on your lip knowing this was already crossing the line. But you had just made up and it was your fault that he had paint on his back in the first place. It was innocent. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself while staring at one of the sexiest people you had ever met.

You began rubbing away pieces of the paint, ignoring Yuta’s whines when you used too much pressure. Your hands traced down to his lower back, settling in the dip as you tried to remove a very stubborn piece of paint.

“Ugh this one is not coming off” you scratched at it and to your surprise Yuta had let out a moan instead of the usual wincing.

“I don’t mean to kink shame but-“

Yuta spun around and glared at you, challenging you to finish your sentence but you were more concerned at the fact that the only thing protecting your nude body from Yuta right now was a thin piece of fabric.

“Yuta!” You scolded and he rolled his eyes, “oh please y/n I’ve seen it all, now can you please help me with the paint ?”

You watched wide eyed as Yuta stepped into the shower going back on his word to close his eyes and face the wall. You couldn’t believe what was happening right now but the quicker you removed the paint the quicker he’d be out of here.

“Aren’t your boxers…going to get wet ?” You watched him step closer to water already allowing his hair to soak up the warm stream. “Well you’re not gonna let me take them off with you in here and I’ll probably just go commando when we get back to the office” Yuta shrugged and you should’ve known that was one of his options since he has done it in the past.

You sighed and let go of the curtain allowing your naked body to be free and go back to work on his paint splatter. Yuta was calm and collected throughout the process, you silently commended him on his restraint, that was until he decided to turn around and look at you.

“Y-Yuta you promised” your voice was small but you still didn’t do much to cover up your body. Yuta leaned against the cold ceramic wall as he stared at you, his stare was dark, inviting you in like that night at the bar.

“I’m not going to do anything y/n unless you want me to” he reassured you, still maintaining a distance and doing absolutely nothing to persuade you. But did you need persuasion when all he needed to do was be in the same room as you?

The two of you stared in each other’s eyes for a few minutes and you had no idea who actually made the first move but there you were in the center of the shower stall, in a random gymnasium, kissing Yuta Nakamoto.

Yuta’s bare body was pressed against yours as the two of you fought for dominance in the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest to which he responded by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until his hardened member twitched against your stomach. There were no words, just actions. Each kiss only made you more desperate for him, not feeling this type of arousal since that night at the bar. He was the only person who could turn you on to the point that every image of Jeno was erased from your mind.

You tugged down his boxers with urgency and Yuta helped you quicken the process, quickly kicking away the piece of clothing and had you pushed up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Yuta pulled away from your lips with a sultry bite on your bottom lip and lined up his member with your core. He kept his eyes on you the entire time from the moment he slipped into your wetness to the harsh thrusts he was now giving to you against the coldness of the wall. You felt like you were complete, filled with the right amount of passion and ecstasy. God you hated to admit it but nobody could fuck you the way Yuta did. Absolutely no one.

Yuta slowed down his thrusts and you brought your feet back to the ground, gesturing for him to take a seat on the floor and got on top of his member once more. Yuta threw his head back as you rode him relentlessly, grabbing onto your ass as he tried to meet your rhythm. The sight of him partially under the water and his swollen lips was delicious, you couldn’t ask for a better view right now. Yuta on the hand was also enjoying having you bounce on his length, quickly realizing that the women he had bedded during his time without you were not worth it. Not a single one of them made him feel the way you did. Even the times you guys were fucking around he’d sleep with other women because he didn’t want to admit that you are his best. You will always be his best.

“G-gonna cum” you panted and Yuta quickly rubbed circles on your clit to help you reach your orgasm. He watched your body spasm and you threw your head back with a soft moan. The sight alone made him come undone straight after you, filling you up completely.

You slowly got to your feet with the help of Yuta offering his hand and managed to finally catch your breath.

What the fuck did you just do ?

“Before you say this was a mistake and you hate me, hear me out” Yuta spoke up, “I need to know something”

You bit down on your lip. “Yeah?”

“Do you like me ?”

“What ?” You quietly questioned and Yuta sighed, rubbing his temples, “do you like me y/n ? actually like me ? Or is it you just like fucking me ?”

“I don’t know Yuta you know that I’m seeing Je-“you began explaining before Yuta quickly cut you off. “Don’t say his name, listen I know you like fucking me because that’s what happened right now despite whatever feelings you have for…Jen..him.”

“So what am I supposed to do ?” You asked, still unsure of how you were even going to face Jeno back at the office after this.

“Use me,” Yuta deadpanned, “keep me as your dirty little secret and I won’t tell a soul. I just don’t want this to end. I’m fucking addicted to this, and clearly you’re in need of me just as much as I need you.”

Yuta took a step forward and cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand. “I just crave you all goddamn day and nothing is fulfilling that need until right now.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn’t bring yourself to share how much you ached for him. Late nights when you were alone you even pleased yourself with memories of him. You were unsure if it was lust at this point or you actually missed being around him. Despite every fight and argument the two of you had, there was something always drawing you in.

“First of all I don’t hate you” you sighed and he chuckled dryly before you continued, “I don’t know if this is a good idea but I’m only agreeing because Jeno and I aren’t serious yet and if we are-“

“I’ll back off I promise” Yuta quickly added and you nodded, “he can’t know about this, nobody can.”

“You have my word” Yuta pressed his lips together and for the first time he looked absolutely serious. Something in you made you trust that he wouldn’t fuck this up, because that would mean the one thing he wanted most right now would fall through.

You just hoped that this little need the two of you had for each other wasn’t turning into an…obsession.

————————————————————————-

“You guys are finally back” Ten stretched his arms above his head as you, Yangyang and Yuta returned back to the office after quite an eventful afternoon.

“Wanna see pics ? It turned out great!” Yangyang grinned quickly, running over to the older guys, showing off his artwork. Jeno was over at the game area with Sungchan completely invested in beating his friend in a round of Call Of Duty.

“Hey you” you sunk into the beanbag next to Jeno who shot you a quick glance before concentrating on his next move, “your hairs wet, why ?”

“Showered after the painting session” you answered diligently hoping there were no follow up questions. Thankfully he was way too invested in his video game to care much, you really weren't in the mood for an interrogation after half a day with Yuta.

Jeno asked a lot of questions when he felt insecure about something. Even though time had been short with him, it still somehow felt like a 2 year relationship. For a young guy Jeno was pretty old fashioned, he made you pick all the date places and never bothered to make the first move physically until you hinted to him that it was okay.

He was so different to what you were used to and you were afraid that if you didn’t speed things up with him this little secret with Yuta would turn into a reality.

“Hey y/n can you help me with lunch ?” Doyoung called from the makeshift kitchen area a few feet away and you silently thanked him for distracting you from your thoughts.

“Hey Doyoung” you smiled as you began opening containers from the Chinese delivery you guys frequented. “Just wanted to check in with you” Doyoung sweetly said as he grabbed a few utensils, “you and Jeno huh ? Was that part of my advice ?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah I guess so, it also helps that I’ve known him for a while now and he did actually have a thing for me in high school” Doyoung cocked his head at your words and leaned in, “and you liked him back or you’re seeing something in him now that you didn’t see before ?”

“U-uhm I think he’s hot” you chewed on your lip and Doyoung chuckled softly, “you know not everything is about looks or…hooking up, do you enjoy his time ? His interests ? His company ?”

You turned back to where Jeno was still playing his video games and you did feel a little confused as to what you guys actually did have in common. “I mean…” you began, crossing your arms across your chest, “we’ve only been seeing each other romantically for two weeks I think it’s too soon to tell.”

Doyoung combed back his hair and instead of bringing forth his insight in order to make you see things clearer he just nodded.

“You’re probably right, well I wish you guys all the best, it’s better than being with someone who doesn’t care emotionally right ?”

You slowly nodded and with that Doyoung began taking the food to the dining area leaving you with more confusing thoughts than you had before.

Lunch and the rest of the evening went on smoothly. Yuta stayed out of your way and there was absolutely no sign that the two of you we’re together that day. It was easier to fake seeing Yuta since the group knew the two of you would’ve been bickering straight after hooking up. It was the perfect illusion.

“Mark Lee’s party is at 9pm tomorrow night you guys, don’t forget” Taeyong looked around the room until he heard a confirmation from every single mouth.

“9pm ? Shit would it be okay if I only stuck around for an hour ?” Jeno sighed and looked over at Taeyong, “my brothers in town and I promised I'd get him from the airport at 10:30.”

“Well you’d have to show one of the guys here how to turn the installation on” Doyoung’s worried look matched Taeyong.

“I’ll be there to turn it on I’ll just need to leave straight after” Jeno assured them and squeezed your hand under the table, “it’s all really sudden but you’ll be okay right ?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m probably going to head home after the music video airing anyway” you smiled at him and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead earning a whistle from Lucas.

Yuta awkwardly shuffled at the sudden PDA and he hoped no one at the table noticed but it caught the attention of none other than Johnny Suh who narrowed his eyes at his coffee run mate.

The evening had wrapped up and everyone had already headed home except for Yuta and Johnny who were adamant on finishing a photography project for a band they were working with.

“Trouble in paradise ?” Johnny hummed as he edited an image on his laptop. Yuta, who was busy sorting out the Polaroids, turned to face his large best friend with a lost expression.

“Huh?” He raised a brow to which Johnny shook his head still staring at his screen.

“I can’t believe this, after all these fucking hellish months now you realize you like her?”

Yuta leaned in on the desk. “What the heck are you on about Johnny ?”

“Y/n” Johnny sighed and your name made Yuta’s heart race a bit, hoping Johnny hadn’t found out about the shower incident. God you’d hate him forever if anyone found out.

“Listen Johnny we-“

“You like her! After all those months of fighting I knew you were secretly in love and now” Johnny threw his hands in the air, “now that Jeno has entered the arena you have ruined your chances. Way to go buddy.”

“Wait what ?! I’m not in love with y/n!” Yuta scoffed. Saying that sentence out loud felt like a lie even though he couldn’t fully convince himself. Was he in love ? Was Johnny mistaking love for just lust ?

That’s all it was and ever was right ?

You enjoyed fucking around with him and he was okay with it. That’s what he wanted too. Even if you didn’t answer his question of whether you liked him or not, it was okay. Whatever you wanted was okay as long he got to be with you.

“I’m not in love with y/n.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Jeno arrived at the party with Yangyang and Sungchan all helping carry equipment for Jeno’s installation. The piece was a pixel art board that formed Mark Lee’s latest EP cover, and once plugged in it gave it an animated effect, basically bringing the EP cover to life. You marvelled at the hard work Jeno had put in, it was just a shame that he wasn't sticking around to receive praise from everyone who attended.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here ? I know how much you hate these parties” Jeno pressed his lips together as he brought you into a tight hug. You hummed and looked up at him smiling, “Only been dragged to one of these parties a million times, another round won't hurt.” Jeno responded by pressing his lips to your forehead before joining Sungchan in setting up the installation. You always wondered why Jeno opted for your forehead instead of your lips most of the time despite already having your first real kiss. You understood he wasn't big on PDA, but the only time you ever got to kiss him was at your apartment door when a date had ended or when you sneaked in a kiss at the cinema. As much as you liked his chivalry, God at times you just wished he took initiative and bent you over your kitchen counter and had his way with you. It was kinda humorous how Jeno was the ideal type of any women out there but for you, you needed an unhinged, sex-crazed maniac to match your energy.

You needed Yu-

“It looks really good Jeno.” Your breathing hitched when you heard Yuta’s voice from behind you. You turned around but to your surprise he wasn't alone. Yuta was accompanied by a familiar face, Mei, a part-time designer from a few floors down. The way she held onto his arm made something stir inside of you. Your cheeks burned up and you dare say it for the first time you felt...jealous.

You were used to seeing Yuta with many different girls but it was always some nobody that he never bothered to introduce to the group. He always made sure none of them integrated with his work life but Mei, Mei was the first person you actually knew.

“y/n its been a while, Oh my God you look great” she said sweetly and you returned a friendly smile despite your awkwardness. Yuta gave you a quick glance not really paying you any mind as he kept a steady hand on Mei’s lower back, the two of them practically looking like a couple. It made you feel uneasy. After all he had said to you that afternoon in the shower, It seemed like he didn't mean it.

“It’s perfect Jeno you really outdid yourself” Taeyong applauded as the rest of the team finally arrived, all congratulating Jeno on his first big project under Blank Space. Jeno shyly thanked everyone and checked his watch, sighing that it was already time for him to depart.

“You're going now ?” You walked over to wrap your arms around his waist. You didn't care much before about Jeno leaving early, before Yuta decided to bring a date to the party which meant you would definitely be on your own. Jeno pouted and stroked your head, “yeah, we're still on for Sunday though right ?” and you replied with a nod before sinking into one of his very warm hugs. You had no idea why, but the need to ease your jealousy and get back at Yuta was so strong that you ended up pulling out of the hug and kissed Jeno in front of everyone. Thankfully Jeno didn't shy away and maybe the guilt of leaving you made him return the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against your body.

“Get a room you guys” Ten joked when the two of you finally pulled away, and Jeno chuckled shyly before leaning into your ear, “let’s do that more often” he cheekily smiled and pecked your lips once more before making his way to the exit. Johnny watched as Yuta still looked visibly uncomfortable, more so now than before. But Johnny also knew how damn stubborn Yuta was and watched him throw his arm around Mei, departing from the group most likely for the rest of the night.

It was late into the night and Yuta was already way too many shots down to call himself sober. Mei was talking but he was not listening. Mei was a nice girl who had made it known to him that she liked him for a while now, but unfortunately for her she was not you. All Yuta wanted was you and again he cursed himself for being so fucking hooked. He wanted to make you jealous but after he saw you kiss Jeno it just came back to him ten thousand times harder. He came to terms with his addiction now in his drunken state he was scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the only person he cared about.

You.

“Hey I'm going to leave now...do you want to come with ?” Mei nervously bit down on her lip hoping the man she's been pining for months will finally take notice of her.

“Nah im good, I’m probably going to wait until my friends leave” Yuta replied coldly, his eyes still scanning the crowd as he took another sip from his jack daniels and coca-cola concoction. Mei nodded, disappointed that her night had not gone as planned and left silently, leaving her date to finally gain his freedom.

Yuta scanned the crowd for the tenth time until he did a double take at a figure in the back corner, dancing on their own with no care in the world. Downing the rest of his drink Yuta kept his eyes focused on you despite the alcohol blurring his vision and his body feeling heavy, he had to get to you.

You were in the same state as him, most likely worse since Lucas challenged you to a drink off. You had no clue when you separated from the rest of the group so you stuck a little corner hoping to sober up before heading home. As you swayed along to the music you felt someone wrap their hands around your waist and the familiar scent of that Tom Ford perfume made you realize who it was.

“Yuta…” you groaned, pulling his hands away from your body, still remembering how awful he made you feel a few hours earlier. God were you the rebound chick now ? The thought alone was sickening.

Yuta, still blissfully unaware that you were mad at him, still pushed his body against yours until your back was pressed against the wall and you had no choice but to look up at him. You watched him move his face down in order to capture your lips, but you quickly evaded it with a turn of your head. Yuta scoffed and sufficed for your neck, giving you soft wet kisses all the way down to your collarbones until you pushed him off yet again.

“What the fuck ?” He growled in your ear, “I thought we had a deal.” You rolled your eyes at him, there was the side of Yuta you hated the most. You wondered how long it would be until he factory reseted back to an asshole.

“I thought I was first choice” you snapped at him, “all your talk about no one can satisfy you like I can, use me y/n, I only want you” you mimicked his voice and flipped him off with your finger. Yuta knew you were jealous but it was kind of ironic given the situation. You were the one in a relationship, not him. “Oh so I'm supposed to see you suck face with Jeno but I can't have any fun y/n ?” Yuta had you back against the wall, this time his hand was locked on your jaw with his lips against your ear.

“Maybe I should've fucked Mei” Yuta’s voice was dark, you felt him smirk against your ear when his words clearly affected you, “Maybe if I fucked her she would've been so good that i would forget all about you y/n.” Your eyes darted to him and he cocked his head, challenging you, waiting to see how much you could take before you caved. Normally you’d be the one getting Yuta riled up like this. It was common knowledge that Yuta was a very jealous person and just mentioning another man sexually he would lose his mind. Once you were craving his attention and casually mentioned to him that if Doyoung was interested you’d let him screw you on his office desk, and Yuta responded by fucking you senseless in the supply closet until the only name that escaped your lips was his.

But now the tables were turned and you didn't want to hear about Mei. You didn't want to picture her next to Yuta let alone in bed with him. It was selfish on your part considering Jeno, but you wanted Yuta all to yourself.

“Shut up” you narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed a fist full of his shirt and brought him closer. Yuta traced his thumb over your lips and smiled, already knowing he won this round.

“Tell me why I cant fuck her right now y/n, tell me” he coaxed, and you responded by pulling him into a sensual kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth and your hand palming his member until you heard him groan in your ear,

You pulled away from the kiss and pressed your swollen lips to his ear, “Because...you're mine.” Yuta licked his own lips at your words and grabbed at your ass,

“Show me I'm yours, baby.”

You had no idea when and how the both of you got to Yuta’s apartment in one piece but the moment he had his foot in the door, Yuta was tugging your dress over your head. “Fuck why do you always wear the most complicated things” Yuta whined which you found cute even though you would never let him know that you were well aware of his adorable side. Sighing from victory, Yuta finally got your dress off and pulled you into his familiar bedroom, which you honestly missed so fucking much.

Taking in the familiar scent of his perfume and his slightly messy room, with posters on the walls, and a rack of band shirts - it was his little heaven and you loved it.

You walked over to lie on his bed, sinking into the soft fabric of the bed sheets as a familiar rock song began playing from Yuta’s stereo. You watched him as he discarded his shirt and ripped jeans, showing off his chest tattoos and belly ring, just the sight of him was already making you wet. Yuta was none the better, groaning as his boner pushed against the fabric of his underwear as his eyes took in your body, sexily laid out for him like you used to be.

“Fuck…” his lips parted as he watched you spread your legs, waiting for him obediently. Yuta crawled up onto the bed and nestled in between your thighs, his mischievous eyes looking up at yours before he began peeling away the thin piece of fabric revealing your core.

“You're…so…wet baby” he said in a low voice and leaned in to give your heat a soft kiss. The instant contact made your body shiver, reaching down to play with his dark curls. “Yuta…please” you whined as he continued his light kisses, not giving you the pressure you desired. Yuta looked up with an innocent face and cocked his head, “Why should I do it ?” His fingers traced circles on your hips and abdomen, waiting for an answer.

“Because…you’re mine Yuta, I want you…all to myself…I want to please me, only me” you threw your head back. Not having sex for over a month was really getting to you and the frustration had you saying just about anything. Yuta watched you squirm and after hearing those words he figured it was a good enough reward for his dear fuck-buddy. Yuta kissed your core once more but this time his tongue darted out every once in a while, awarding you with a better sensation. You moaned inaudible words as he began eating you out like a pro, lapping away like his life depended on it before inserting two fingers inside you.

“Yuta wait I’m gonna-“ you grabbed onto his hair, feeling your orgasm come on way too early for your liking as his fingers moved rapidly and his tongue licked away at your clit. Yuta ignored your plea knowing this was only the first of many and honestly he was glad that he was still the only man giving you orgasms for the past couple of months.

Yuta pulled away, a devilish smirk spread across his face as he watched you cum all over his fingers and just as your vision was in focus you had the pleasure of seeing him lick his fingers clean as if he just had the most amazing meal ever,

“Mmmm tasty” he bit down on his lip and winked at you. God he was so damn cocky, and it didn’t take you long to recover from that orgasm to make room for another. You got to your knees and sat back, your face now level with Yuta’s clothed member.

Yuta groaned as you palmed him, his length already twitching against your touch. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but since the night you had called it off with him, his desire had subsided and he wondered if you were the sole reason for his high sex drive. You placed your lips against his belly ring, giving it a kiss before pulling down his boxers and allowing his member to spring free. Yuta cursed as your tongue swiped across the tip and you looked up at him with those large eyes, and Yuta knew exactly what you were waiting for. Positioning your mouth over his tip, you waited until Yuta grabbed a fistful of your hair and guided you down on his length, groaning loudly as you took in all of him.

Yuta’s hips began to meet your rhythm and the grip on your hair tightened, the sudden roughness made you shiver with excitement. You and Yuta always liked it rough, since it took out your anger on each other and any type of nurturing or romance would throw off the dynamic.

Yuta threw his head back as he released, keeping you on him until you swallowed every bit. He muttered curse words as he pulled out and watched you lick your lips, swiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and sucked it off.

“Yum” you mimicked his words from earlier with a smirk essentially driving Yuta crazy with lust. You giggled as he pushed you onto the bed and attacked you with bites and kisses, leading from your neck down to the valley of your breasts. “How long until you get hard again?” You sighed playfully but winced when Yuta’s teeth sunk into your skin, punishing you for your words.

“Cocky aren’t we ?” He moved back up to your lips and kissed you passionately. Just as you began melting into the kiss, Yuta pulled away and jumped off his bed heading to his closet.

“What are you doing ?” You groaned as you watched him sift through the mess of his closet until he finally retrieved a familiar box. “Yuta you’re literally hard right now, come on let’s just fuck already” you whined, knowing that when Yuta brought out that box it was his way of getting rid of your bratty attitude.

“If you wanna be impatient two can play at that game” he grinned and hopped onto the bed, pulling out his favorite pair of hair cuffs and with ease, cuffed you to his headboard. You watched him look through his box of toys, rubbing your thighs together excited about what his choice will be.

Yuta grabbed something out of the box and discarded the rest onto the floor, making his way back up to your body and pressed his lips against your ear, “you remember the safe word baby ?” Yuta pecked you when you nodded and you watched him insert a mini vibrator in your core and roll off the bed with the remote in his hand.

“I wasn’t even that mean to you” you grumbled, still getting used to the device inserted in you. Yuta shrugged and turned the device on, keeping it on a low setting as he watched you stir in his bed.

“I’m not punishing you for that actually, I’m punishing you for something else you did” he said calmly, pacing around the room butt ass naked. You frowned and thought back to the party when he had found you, what did you say to him ?

“I’m sorry I pushed you…away” you pouted but a moan escaped your lips when you felt the setting turn higher and you watched Yuta shake his head, “nope that’s not it.” You groaned and threw your head back, unable to even think what the hell he could be on about. Yuta would get mad at every little thing so it honestly could’ve been anything.

“Can’t I have a hint or something ?” You pleaded and Yuta raised his eyebrow and eventually sighed, giving in too easily. “It happened in the beginning at the party” he said annoyingly, and finally something in your brain clicked.

“The kiss ? You’re mad over the kiss ?” Your words fell off when you felt the vibrator go another setting higher, the new speed was decent enough to start building a second orgasm. “You don’t sound like you’re apologizing for it” Yuta scoffed and dangled the remote in front of your face, “this goes up 4 more speeds y/n.”

“Why do I need to apologize for kissing my boyfriend when-“

Another setting higher.

“Fuck wait Yuta” you breathed, it was impossible to even keep focused at the new speed and the sensation was now running throughout your entire body. “You kissed him in front of me to make me jealous didn't you?” Yuta questioned and you nodded frantically, pressing your thighs together to ease the intensity, “yes yes oh my God, I wanted to make you….jealous because you brought someone else…and..fuck” just as you felt your body finally build up a perfect orgasm the vibrator suddenly turned off and you were met with Yuta’s cocky smile.

“You like to have it all don’t you y/n” he hummed as flung the remote aside and knelt between your thighs that were shaking from the orgasm denial. “You want to fuck me, but not let me fuck anyone else, you want Jeno but you don’t want me to get mad over it” he continued as he pulled the dripping wet toy out of your core and tossed it to the floor. Yuta placed his hands on either side of you and looked down at your defeated face and smiled, “Do you want me to fuck someone else?”

You shook your head and Yuta undid one of the handcuffs. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and again asked you another question, “Do you want to fuck me ?” and you quickly nodded, earning your second hand free from the cuffs allowing them to fall to your sides. Yuta placed his hand around your throat and squeezed gently, smirking as you arched your back, thirsting for him so desperately.

“Who would fuck you better, me or Jeno ?” Yuta mused as his hand released a bit of pressure on your throat. “Y-you” your voice was small and Yuta released your throat and his hand moved down to smack your thigh.

“Say it, say who will fuck you better” he hissed.

“You Yuta, you will fuck me better than anyone…better than Jeno” Yuta grinned at your words, a little surprised that you used Jeno’s name in such a blasphemous way. He was in euphoria at this point. It was all he needed to hear after continuously seeing you and Jeno look as if you were in love with each other.

It was all wrong.

You and him loved each other.

Fuck. He loved you. He really did.

Yuta pushed his length into your core and groaned as the realization of his thoughts and his conversation with Johnny all hit him at once. The sight of you beneath him, moaning his name and your confession that you wanted him over Jeno. It was all too much.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, his hips violently hitting against yours as your nails dug into his lower back. The lewd sounds filled the room and for a second the two of you looked into each other’s eyes, both feeling something…different. Usually Yuta would be fucking you from behind, his favourite position because he loved looking at your ass but tonight especially after his sudden questioning, he took care of you differently.

You don’t know what came over you and it was yet another thing you never did during sex but you pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips moved passionately against his, desperately clinging to his body as his strokes became longer and more powerful. Yuta sighed into the kiss, palming your cheek and his movements suddenly became more gentle as if he were making love to you, not fucking you.

“Yuta…I’m close” you moaned into his ear, loving this new feeling of him on your body. Yuta hummed in response and quickened his pace, making sure to sneak in a kiss every now and then until he finally brought you to your long awaited orgasm. You watched him bite down on his lip as he thrusted into you, chasing his own orgasm until he pressed his against your ear and said the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“I love you y/n”

Your body slightly froze as Yuta finally came and he rolled off your body, mentally cursing himself for allowing those words to escape his mouth at this moment. But it’s what he felt.

Johnny was right.

“W-what ?” You finally managed to say and turned to him. Yuta licked his lips and kept his focus on the ceiling above him.

“You heard me right” he said calmly and you felt your heart race. Where was this coming from ? He was the one who always implemented the no romance rule and he chooses now, the moment you’re seeing someone else to confess to you.

“I have to go” you murmured and jumped off the bed, starting to collect your clothes from the floor. You heard the bed creak and Yuta sat up and watched you dress up. “It’s late now y/n and you drank, stay the night and leave when the suns up” he insisted, eventually grabbing his own boxers,

“Here you can sleep in one of my shirts and you’re welcome to sleep in my bed for the night.”

“Y-you…that was one of the rules…no staying over” you were biting on your nails, everything that had happened in the last ten minutes made no sense. Yuta shoved the shirt into your hands and sighed, “Look, we don’t have to talk about what I said or what happened, just stay the night and you can go back to your perfect life with Jeno.” Yuta began making his way to his door when you grabbed onto his arm making him stop in his tracks,

“Where are you going ?” You asked him softly.

Yuta looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Yuta..”

“What ?”

“Stay with me.”

—-—————————————————————

You had no idea why you had told him to stay in bed with you considering all that had happened a few minutes ago. But here you were, curled into his chest listening to his heartbeat as he lightly stroked your hair.

“How…long ?” You broke the silence and felt his heartbeat slightly race, “The realization came recently but I’ve…always liked you y/n” Yuta responded softly.

“Well you don’t have a good way of showing it” you rolled your eyes and Yuta’s soft laughter filled the room. “Well at first you actually were annoying but I did find you cute” He replied and shifted until you were on your back looking up at him,

“You put up with me and we’re not afraid to fight back. You know it’s not even about the sex, I think we’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, we just have a weird way of showing it.” You listened to his words and did a bit of reflection for yourself. You were already well aware that he occupied your mind 24/7 and did not enjoy seeing him around other girls he would eventually sleep with. But was this…love ? You weren't so sure.

“Do you ever think it’s more of an addiction rather than…love ?” You looked up at him, hoping your words did not offend his sudden confession in any way. Yuta sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling deep in thought.

“What is love then ?” He murmured, clearly by the look on his face he had been pondering on this question for a while now. You joined him in laying on your back and looked up at the ceiling, “love is when the other person completes you” you began, “when you’re having a dull day and just the sight of them could turn that around. Love is wanting to protect that person all the time, it’s just love.”

Yuta turned to you, “have you ever been in love ?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.” Yuta shrugged and returned his focus above him, “whatever you just described is how I feel, but maybe I’m just still hung up on the Jeno situation.” You felt a pang in your chest as if you just completely destroyed his spirit. You always saw Yuta as a strong confident presence, yet the person next to you seemed lost, he looked broken. But deep down you knew that whatever he was describing had floated in your head from time to time, maybe it needed to be said out loud for you to finally realize.

“Give me a week”

“Huh ?” Yuta’s eyebrows raised at you.

“Give me a week to figure all of this out and we will have this talk again” you sat up and looked back at him. Yuta propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head, “y/n, if you don’t feel the same way it’s okay I won’t come in between you and…Jeno anymore.”

“Yuta”

“Hmm?”

You pulled the boy by his shirt until you were able to lock your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth and he mimicked your actions before pulling away, a confused expression spreading across his face.

“I don’t know where this is going to go and whether we’re right for each other,” you chuckled dryly, “but I will always want you Yuta, you’re not coming between Jeno and I because the one who wants… .”

————————————————————————

It was finally Monday and you already regretted seeing Jeno at the office since you faked a terrible hangover to get out of the Sunday date, something that wasn’t entirely a lie. You spent the whole of Sunday laying in your bed thinking about the night you spent with Yuta and all that was shared during the morning.

You thought back on your own words about what your version of love was. Protecting someone. You reminisced about the days when Yuta got sick after a night out and you were the one to take care of him despite his protests. You thought back to when the two of you were working on a project, arguing as usual and you managed to slip on a wet paint spot, causing you to sprain your ankle. Yuta was the one to help you around the office when needed, he wasn’t appointed to you nor did he have to use up his own time to help you but he did it anyway.

When you were having a dull day the person you loved would find a way to brighten it up, just the sight of them was enough. There was an occasion where a client got real mean with you in the office, and hated the project you worked almost a month on, refusing to pay you for the labor you had put in. Yuta had seen the commotion and joined you in your booth and the two of you flooded the clients company with hilarious bad reviews anonymously until you were literally tearing up from laughter. That was one of the rare days the two of you didn’t get into an argument and the moment completely slipped your mind. You had forgotten that Yuta and you actually shared fond memories of each other outside the bedroom.

You thought about every moment you got to the office and Yuta would be sticking his tongue out at you, calling you names and being a jerk as usual. But days when he had to work out of the office felt boring, empty, it wasn’t worth sitting in your cubicle without seeing him across from you.

But then after feeling the warm fuzziness of knowing Yuta felt the same way about you, your phone buzzed with Jeno’s name across the screen. Why were you doing this to him ? Why was Jeno in the crossfire when all he wanted to do was get to know you better ?

All you ever wanted was a distraction from the man you were scared to fall in love with.

“Heyyy you, you feeling okay ?” Jeno beamed when you entered the office, immediately bringing you into a tight hug and ending with a kiss on the cheek. You nodded and the sense of guilt over took your body as you looked up at his cheery smile.

“I heard you guys got so wasted at the party, damn I wish I stayed” Jeno giggled as the two of you walked hand in hand over to your cubicle. “Yeah it was…crazy” you faked a smile before settling in your seat. You looked across, a force of habit and you were greeted by a soft smile from Yuta before quietly returning to his work.

“I was thinking we should go see that new marvel movie tonight, what do you think ?” Jeno’s eyes were so bright and full of energy that everytime you looked into them it just made it harder to keep up your facade. “I’m pretty busy this week but hey Friday you can come over, I…need to talk to you anyway” you bit down on your lip and Jeno’s expression changed from excited to slightly wary, clearly noticing that something wasn’t quite right.

“Is….everything okay?” He asked in a staggered voice, and you slowly nodded and reached to squeeze his hand, “yeah let’s hang out on Friday okay ?” You smiled and Jeno pressed his lips together and nodded. You watched him exit your cubicle and all that was left in your view was the only person you wanted to see today, Yuta.

Yuta looked up and caught your stare, smiling softly as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand and winked at you. It was sweet and innocent, nothing like how he usually acted from across the room. You found yourself blushing and hid your face until you heard a beep come from your phone. Opening the messenger app you were greeted by a picture of yourself hiding your crimson cheeks with the message ‘Cute’ attached to it.

y/n: didn’t take you for a simp.

yutaa: fuck off, I have a folder like this.

You stifled your laughter when Yuta sent a screenshot with a folder just of you in your cubicle. From you flipping him off, to you glaring at him clearly pissed off at something he had said, and one of you trying your best to pay attention to whatever story Yangyang was on about.

y/n: oh my god you’re a BIG SIMP.

yutaa: maybe.

y/n: well I do have ONE of you that I don’t have the heart to delete.

yutaa: oh really ?

You sent Yuta a picture you absolutely treasured of him in your bed fast asleep hugging one of your plushies. It was one of the last nights you had with him before things got sour. Normally you’d never allow him to nap in your bed after a hookup but he looked so at peace and so adorable that you decided to bend the rules a little.

yutaa: that was a good ass nap. yutaa: simp.

y/n: maybe.

The rest of the day went on and honestly you felt as if you were on cloud nine, chatting to Yuta like he was your high school crush. Smiling every time he texted back and glancing up every now and then, waiting for him to look at you with that cheeky grin. But as reality set in and Yuta’s smile faded, you were still dating another man. Who now had his arms wrapped around your waist peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulder while Yuta looked on, not being able to do a thing about it.

————————————————————————

The team decided to head out for dinner the next day, and something in Jeno had switched. After Yuta had watched him cuddle you until the day was over, you barely even got the chance to talk to Yuta face to face since Jeno offered to take you home. He was being suspiciously clingy and you wondered if he suspected anything.

“You’re okay with sharing a pasta and plate of fries ?” Jeno smiled over at you, one hand rubbing your waist and the other holding up the wooden menu. You nodded and Jeno placed his order in with Johnny who was doing the rounds for everyone. Yuta sat across from you and you could feel his stare on you from time to time, and the moments it felt like he was staring, Jeno’s grip on your waist got tighter.

“Is...is something wrong ?” you leaned into Jeno as he took a sip of his water. Even though he was smiling, his jaw was clenched signaling that he was trying to suppress himself from doing or saying something. “I'm just really tired” he rubbed your back and to your surprise leaned in to capture your lips. It was innocent but your lack of effort to mind his feelings wasn't good enough for Yuta. Frankly he had no idea where you two stood at the moment, for all he knew you could be playing him right now. It probably wasn't the case though, but Yuta was not really used to his life getting a happy ending. The night drove on and the group split with you, Ten, Doyoung, Taeyong and Renjun seated at the table while the rest of the guys were hanging around the bar babysitting their drinks. Jeno was really a changed man since high school. He was so confident, well-built and a good socialite with the team. You watched him lean against the bar counter, drink in hand entertaining whatever story Lucas had for the night.

“So you and y/n huh ? Have you scored yet ?” Lucas raised his brow cheekily to which Jeno chuckled and shook his head, “Really Lucas ? were talking about my sex life now ?” Yuta was in conversation with Johnny and Sungchan but he couldn't help but overhear your name in the chat next to him.

“Yeah man, I'm sure she’s good too after locking down my boy Yuta” Lucas smirked and Yuta flinched when the boisterous man grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him into the conversation. “Even though they hate each other I just know they had the best hook ups” Lucas laughed despite Johnny trying to make him shut up.

“Well that’s all over now” Jeno’s eyes narrowed on Yuta before looking up at Lucas, “she invited me over tonight and considering the type of pictures she sent me, i'm guessing it’s going to be one hell of a night.” Yuta’s chest felt tight not only at the possibility that you may have invited him over to finally sleep with him but mainly because of the way Jeno spoke about you. He probably only shared that information to appease Lucas but hinting at you sending him nudes was not something you would like the guys to know about.

“She’s really been trying to speed up the process between us too it's cute actually” Jeno continued as Yangyang and Lucas egged him on, “that night after that painting you guys did for Mark Lee she was practically begging me to fuck her after our movie date. God if my brother didn't give me all those errands I would've done so right on the kitchen counter.”

Yuta shot back the rest of his drink and stormed off as Lucas and Yangyang hyped up Jeno, pouring him another shot and laughing erratically in their drunken state. From where you were seated you saw Yuta storm off and watched Johnny run after him worriedly, making you slightly anxious.

“Yuta don't listen to them man '' Johnny huffed as he finally caught up to his friend a few blocks down from the restaurant. “I dont fucking care man I really dont” Yuta chuckled dryly and ran his fingers through his hair, “It doesnt matter because at the end of the day im still the worthless piece of shit and guys like him are God fucking sent.” Johnny watched Yuta’s expression change and he turned around to find you standing there, desperately looking between them for context.

“Yuta what happened ?” you asked in a small voice and the familiar sting in his chest returned, hearing you call out his name, following him out here while Jeno was still inside, it was all just confusing to him.

“I thought you giving us a week meant you felt the same way and I could finally relax knowing you were going to be with me y/n” Yuta groaned in frustration while Johnny took a step away from the heated exchange. You shook your head as you approached him, “yes I did, so what's the problem ?” Yuta scoffed and folded his arms. “What's the problem ? doesn't look like anything’s changed y/n. I have to see you act like the couple of the year after telling you how I felt about you ? That's brilliant.”

“I told you I would speak to him this week” you snapped, unbothered by the now random onlookers who were concerned at the scene taking place. “But fine honestly Yuta if you really want me to say it you have my permission to fuck some random girl until im finally free.” You rolled your eyes about to turn on your heels to leave when you felt a tug on your wrist and Yuta pulled you into a kiss. He held your face in his hands as he kissed you passionately, sighing as he slowly pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours,

“When I said I loved you I fucking meant it y/n, I only want you. But please, if youre going to invite him over or send him dirty...pictures atleast tell him not to tell the whole fucking world about it.”

You took a step back and frowned at his words, “What ? What pictures ?”

“The ones he told Lucas about, y/n honestly I don't care I was just mad that he was airing your business out like that” Yuta bit down on his lip and yet again you were deeply confused as to what he was on about.

“I...I didn't send him anything” you responded, “I didn't invite him over tonight and I definitely haven't sent him any...nudes.”

“Tell that to him then”

You turned around and noticed most of the team was now outside watching the commotion go down and right in front was Jeno, who by the look on his face had most likely seen the kiss you just shared with Yuta.

Jeno approached the both of you with an irritated groan and scoffed, “I was going to ignore the signs but God I was so right, you were still fucking him this entire time ?” You lowered your head and Yuta glared at Jeno, “If you knew all this time why didn't you just break up with her and move on ?”

Jeno rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Yuta to which Johnny quickly responded by placing a firm hand on Jeno’s shoulder making sure the boy was at safe distance from his best friend.

“I'm not like you Yuta” Jeno licked his lips, “unlike you I respect her, I understand that she was going back to you because you like to play around, you never cared about her until I showed up. You were threatened by the fact that you were no longer in control of her.”

“Nobody is in control of me first of all” you chimed in, “and second what’s this about me inviting you over and sending you nudes that apparently the whole fucking bar knows about”

“It's just banter y/n” Jeno shook his head.

“Banter ?” Yuta repeated, “didnt know talking about how you were going to fuck your girlfriend on the kitchen counter in front of her coworkers is banter.”

“What?” you walked up to Jeno, “W-where is this coming from Jeno ? you’re not like this.”

“Well how am I supposed to be y/n ?” Jeno raised his voice, “you wouldn't mind if he said that to you. You're always letting him get away with shit. Im the one sitting around here knowing my damn girlfriend is fucking around with someone else yet somehow still trying to forgive you and figure this out.”

“Why, though ?” you shrugged, “Is it because you want to prove to other people that you're the bigger person ?”

“Would you rather be with someone like him ? someone who will probably throw you aside after he’s bored, or someone like me who was always patient, always willing to put you first no matter what” Jeno reached for your hand, his eyes widening when you shrugged him off.

“Someone who I barely know that talks about me to my friends like im just some kind of whore or someone i've known for a while and not once shared anything intimate that happened between us,” you looked over at Yuta, “It was my one rule, the same rule I gave you Jeno and he was, Yuta is the only one who has abided to it.”

“y/n Im sorry,” Jeno lowered his voice, “we hurt each other and I want to fix that, just make your final decision...me or Yuta”

“Jeno….I apologize for using you, I'm sorry for leading and hurting your feelings” you began and Yuta slowly shook his head and turned around ready to hear the bad news that always seemed to follow him,

“But as crazy as it may sound to everyone here, I'm most like myself when I'm with Yuta, I love the person I am when I'm around him” Yuta turned at your words and instead of the sting he felt a sense of warmth. Hearing you say that in front of everyone who wanted the two of you apart, besides Johnny ofcourse, was absolute bliss.

“Who knows maybe it won't work and it will explode but I really want to try, that's the thing I'm most sure of, I really really want to try” you smiled as Yuta made his way over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Let's get out of here” Yuta whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek and draping his arm over your shoulder as the two of you exited the street walking away from the mess and not even giving it a second glance.

The two of you ended up at your apartment full of smiles and giggles as you slowly discarded your clothes on the way to the bedroom. Once your back touched your soft duvet covers Yuta pressed his body against yours and peppered your skin with kisses all the way up to your ear. “I want to try something different” he whispered and you nodded in response while Yuta pulled his shirt over his head and discarded his jeans. Yuta pulled you on top of his body and returned to your lips, kissing you slowly and passionately. His touches were so delicate and nurturing that every time his fingers ran down your back you felt butterflies in your stomach. You unhooked your bra shimmied out of it, still attached to the addictive taste of Yuta’s lips. He slowly rolled you onto your back and left soft kisses all the way down your neck, down the valley of your breasts until he reached your abdomen. You watched as he pulled your underwear off, looking at your body like it was the most beautiful thing he had seen. That was it. Instead of lust he looked at you with love. He looked like he wanted to take care of you, be gentle with you, savour every moment he had with you. Your breathing hitched when you quickly realized that he inserted himself inside of you and used one arm to steady himself on the bed as he lent down to meet your lips. His strokes were slow but sharp, digging his nails into your thigh from time to time, preventing himself from losing control. Wanting to feel more of him you signaled that you wanted to switch positions and Yuta licked his lips as he watched you place your knees on either side of him and sit down on his member. “F-fuck” he cursed as you began to ride him, keeping to his wishes of keeping things calm and slow. Yuta wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as the two of you kissed in between your moans, twirling your tongue with his as your hips slammed into his.

“Y-Yuta…” you moaned, feeling a tear escape your eye as the long night and the building orgasm caught up with you.

“Yes baby ?” he hummed in your ear.

“I really fucking love you” you sighed, just the words finally leaving your mouth made you sob with joy. It felt so fucking good to finally say it out loud.

Yuta responded by flipping you onto your back and chased both his and your orgasm, fucking you with his usual intensity until you came and he followed straight after, filling the room with heavy pants and both of you trying to catch your breath.

“I love you too y/n” He finally said, bringing you to his chest and pressed his lips against your forehead.

The two of you lay in your bed both napping for a bit until the first sight of dawn began filling the bedroom. You winced at the sun and hid your face in Yuta’s arms as he grinned at your actions.

“I don't want to go to work!” you grumbled.

“Fuck go to work after all the drama you caused ?” Yuta pinched your cheek playfully, earning a nudge in his side from you.

“Anyway” Yuta continued, “I got an email from Taeyong and he said if we want we can work remotely, he gave us the Okinawa project.” You sat up in bed and turned to face him, “the Okinawa project ? Its 9 months in Japan, the same project the whole damn building was trying to get” you blinked, still unsure if Yuta was just fucking with you.

“That's the one” Yuta shrugged, “anyways he said he was going to send either of us anyway since he knows we always get the job done. Oh and he actually said something really funny actually”

“What ?” you raised your brow and watched Yuta reread the text message on his phone.

“He said Doyoung was the one who suggested the two of us be the ones to go, who would've thought ?” Yuta closed the messages and tucked himself back into bed.

“Yeah” you smiled, “Who would've thought.”

THE END

#yuta smut #yuta nakamoto #yuta x you #nct yuta #nct smut #nct 127 smut #yuta angst #nct scenarios #jeno angst #lee jeno angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #2jaeh masterlist

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hello-everyfandom · 3 years

Text

“You are one fit bird.”

Warnings: Sex and Mature Themes. Oral and unprotected sex. Shield your eyes!

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Summary: First loves and first experiences.

Remus Lupin despised his scars. Although throughout the years he had grown accustomed to them, he still cowered and feverishly flushed whenever he noticed someone studying them. His mates, Sirius, James, and Peter, never disclosed this information, however they still knew of Remus’ insecurities and would likely have murdered anyone if they said any nasty remarks. Attending Hogwarts as a lycanthrope was already difficult enough, but with every passing full moon Remus seemed to find another scar to his collection. Littering his body, Remus had scars that were new and swollen and some that were faded into his skin tone. Eventually, he got used to the uncomfortable stares, only squirming in his seat when eyes lingered longer than usual. The only stares he could withstand were yours.

Sitting next to Remus as he focused on the essay in front of him, you could not help but stare, longingly at him. Remus could feel your eyes as his ears reddened and cleared his throat.

“May I help you, little one?”

You were quiet and Remus bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if you were thinking of all the possible scenarios in which he could have gotten those scars.

“You are truly a handsome boy.” you said simply.

Remus had never heard that before, at least from a woman other than his mother.

“Uh, uhm.” He stuttered, his face going bright vermillion.

“Thank you.”

“Have I ever told you that you have lovely eyelashes?” you asked, propping your head onto the arm that leaned on the table. Remus could see that you were not staring, no, instead you were admiring. He had done the same thing numerous times to you when you ate or blew on your hot tea. He would blink and watch the way you dipped your quill into ink and sifted through your notes with the pads of your fingers.

“Long eyelashes? Isn’t that a girl thing?” Remus placed down his quill to look at you. He held his hands in his lap.

“It’s a marvelous thing, that’s what it is.” you replied dreamily.

Remus truly was a handsome boy. His hair was soft and fluffy. His lips were full and pink and when he smiled, they parted and you could see his cute crooked teeth. If you looked close enough, he even had small freckles along the sides of his nose.

“Is that so?”

You hummed, “Hold on, stay still.” you said, leaning forwards. Remus froze as your finger reached and brushed across his cheek, taking the fallen eyelash from its place.

“Oh, thanks.” Remus laughed, his voice chiming.

“You know, in some cultures, people eat their significant other’s eyelashes.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, “No, I don’t think that’s true.”

You giggled in response, “Probably not, but imagine if, right?”

It was safe to say that Remus Lupin had fallen in love with you. He knew that more than anything. And you were quick to feel the same. His hand in yours felt heavenly and you rubbed the back of his hand with the soft of your thumb. When he kissed you, you could feel the warmth of his skin and the hesitation of his lips. To be someone’s first love is a privilege, a privilege the two of your were honored to have. And with teenage hormones, it was hard to keep your hands off of each other. Still, with months passing and several ‘I love you’s” Remus kept himself locked away in terms of the bedroom. He wanted to. Believe it, he wanted to bed you so badly, to see your chest heave up and down and his name moaned from your mouth. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you harder and faster and pull the skirt from your hips. But he was simply terrified of undressing himself knowing the map of scars he had everywhere.

This night, like most nights, were spent tucked away in Remus’ corner of the dorm. The boys were out taking the piss out of each other and messing around with a bottle of Daisy Root Draught. Instead of joining in, you and Remus opted to stay in. What started as the two of you reading next to each other somehow turned into desperate grabs and longing snogs. You sat atop of your boyfriend, holding the collar of his sweater in your small fist to pull him closer. Remus’ hands were tangled in your hair and you nearly fainted with the feeling of his tongue between your lips. As you parted from his lips, you leaned and began to press kisses alongside his jaw and down to his exposed neck. The noises he uttered under his breath was enough for you to clench your thighs together, rubbing against Remus’ trousers.

Wanting to be closer, your hands moved to tug off your own sweater, throwing it somewhere in the room. Remus’ hands moved down your back, feeling the smoothness of your skin and pressing kisses along the tops of your breasts and the bone of your collar. As your hand tugged on the bottom of his shirt, he froze.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, having felt him freeze under your touch.

You leaned back as Remus looked at you, lips puffy and swollen and your hair messy from the tugging.

“Nothing, I-”

“Rem, you have nothing to be afraid of, it’s me, yeah?” you whispered and moved to kiss him sweetly.

“I love you.”

Remus felt his chest hammering away as if it were competing in a race against time.

“I love you too,” he whispered back. He felt himself allow you to tug his sweater off and closed his eyes at the lack of clothing. He was exposed and terrified at the lack of words you said. He peeked his eyes open, worried he’d see your disgusted face. Instead, he saw the same admiring look you wore when you were looking at him before.

“Remus Lupin,” you said, pressing more kisses to his jaw, “You are one fit bird.”

He barked out a laugh that soon turned into a groan as your lips began to suck on the place between his ear and his collar. You could feel Remus’ hands on your back fumbling with your pesky bra.

“How the bloody hell-” he said under his breath,

“Having trouble?” you teased, reaching back to unclip your bra and letting it slide down your arms leaving you bare. Remus shifted in his seat upon seeing you and you could feel him becoming more swollen underneath you. His hands reached out to cup your breasts, the sudden touch of skin to yours made you gasp. His fingers rubbed over your sensitive nipples, rolling them softly. Remus Lupin decided to become more daring in that moment and placed one in his mouth, suckling and swiping his tongue over you. Hearing the moan you elicited created a burning in his stomach and his trousers became more tighter.

“Fuck,” your gasped, moving your hips on him. Each touch either of you gave created a heat, a warmth that was comforting and lustful. Leaving hickies on each other and racing your fingers through each other’s hair.

“Remus-”

“Hm?” he paused sucking on the tops of your breasts.

“I...” you swallowed harshly and suddenly felt yourself become embarrassed, “I think... I’m ready... if you are, if you want to, I mean, we don’t have to.”

Remus thought about undressing himself in front of you, but the embarrassment he felt thinking about that did not trump the want of seeing you underneath him.

“I know neither of us have ever...”

“I know,” you whispered, leaning to press a kiss to his lips, “But, I’d like to... if you want to.”

With that, Remus flipped you underneath him, pressing more kisses to your skin and pushing his tongue in your mouth. You moaned against his lips, feeling Remus start to slip off your skirt. You moved to help him with his own trousers and began to unbutton them. There was a fumble as the two of you battled your own clothing until you were both only in undergarments. You laid, looking up at Remus as he sat back and began to trail his fingers down your throat to the soft of your belly and finally resting at the band of your panties. From the dimly lit room, Remus could see the small patch of wetness against the white panties you wore. The sight alone could’ve made him finish right there and then, but he looked back up to you, his eyes watching to see if you were going to refuse or change your mind. Instead, he saw you nod quickly and lift your hips to his hand.

Now, Remus had done something earlier that he was absolutely mortified about. He asked James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew for sex advice. At first they howled in laughter, James holding his stomach as he belted out. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and Peter sent him a witty wink. Remus grumbled in reply before calling them all twats. At least the advice they came was worth the immense amount of teasing he received.

Remus slowly took off your pants, slipping the fabric down your thighs and off your legs. Gulping down nervousness, Remus looked up to you again for approval.

“Please?” you asked, desperate to feel him.Remus, trying to remember what Sirius had told him, pushed his fingers up the length of your slit.He quickly could feel the button of your clit and the soft moan you breathed made his boxers unbearable. Slowly, Remus moved his fingers in circles, the wetness and warmth made him groan.

“Is that okay?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, “It’s really good, it feels really good.”

He continued to move, feeling more brave as his fingers picked up speed. He began to slow down, looking up to see your head thrown back. He moved his middle finger down and slowly began to insert it. Remus cursed in his mind at the tightness around his finger and forced himself to be patient.

“Good?”

You moaned in response. It was only until you felt Remus lean quickly and place his wet tongue on the nerves of your clit did you gasp in shock. Your back arched at the sudden texture, feeling your boyfriend’s tongue swirl around your clit.

“I’m sorry!” he reached back, “Was that too much-”

Before he could finish you tugged on his hair and raised your hips impatiently. Remus’ head moved back in his place, between your legs where he could stay forever. The taste of you would soon become his favorite taste in the world as he sucked slowly, pushing his tongue in all different directions. Growing more confident, he inserted his finger again, curving it against the top. Your fingers reached down to pull on his hair and your mind was nearly blank and only focused on the immense amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

“I’m really... Remus, baby, I think..” your breath quickened, “How are you doing this?”

Those words made his eyes widen. He continued at his pace but instead looked up to see you become undone. Your chest moved rapidly, your breasts heaving as your eyes screwed shut. One hand gripping the sheets and the other atop your boyfriend’s head. The sight was something he wished to always see whenever he closed his eyes. He felt you clench around his finger and how more wet you became. The high pitched gasp and jerking of your hips and the curses that fell from your lips made him realize he had made you come. Coming down from the high, Remus propped himself up to look at his darling girlfriend.

“Was that okay?” he asked timidly. You peered down to send him a dazzling smile, grinning and pulling him up by his chin. You pressed a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I think I’m absolutely smitten by you, Mr. Lupin.” you laughed, “Who would’ve thought Remus Lupin was a sex god?”

Remus held himself up, and burrowed his face in your neck embarrassedly, “Stop it, please,” he whined. He jolted when he felt your hand wrap around him.

“Lay down for me,” you whispered.

“Love, we don’t have to- I’m happy enough just-”

“Please?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. The idea of you between his legs could’ve been enough for Remus to whimper. As you switched places, Remus grew more and more antsy.

“I’ve never really done this,” you mumbled, feeling just as nervous as Remus when he first began to touch you.

His finger lifted your chin, “You’ll be wonderful,” he assured, “We can stop anytime.”

He rested back on the bed, the pillows all messed about from your thrashing. Remus wasn’t sure whether or not to close his eyes, but when he felt your fingers graze across his hard length, he pushed himself against the pillows, eyes screwed shut.

“What should I do?” you asked innocently, curiously as well.

“Put your hand around-” he gasped as you did so, “shall I show you?”

When you nodded, Remus’ large hand moved to cover yours, pushing your fingers tighter around him. He began to pull upwards, jerking around the length. Your hand followed him leaving him nearly breathless.

“There, that’s perfect, good job, baby.” He moaned, “Just like that.”

Moving on instinct, Remus removed his hand as you continued. He felt your fingers touch the veins along him and how your hand was perfectly squeezed around him. He jumped and shuttered when he felt your wet tongue atop the crown of his cock.

“Darling-” he tried to say, but you were entranced by him. How long he was and thick, your mouth watered at the sight and pulled the top of him into your mouth. Your tongue swirling in circular motions. The taste of Remus was sweet and salty and you wondered if Remus had thought the same for you. However, Remus, himself, could not focus on anything but your lips around him. Your lips engulfed him, lower and lower until you felt him at the back of your throat. The length made you gag a bit and to Remus’ embarrassment, he moaned feeling you gag.

“Alright, darling?” he asked shakily,

You hummed back, the vibrations of your throat creating a string of moans from him. You enjoyed the taste, and attempted to bring him further, closer. Remus had heard about blowjobs from Sirius and James but had disregarded what they described as “beyond describable.” But as he felt you sucking along him, a hand in your hair as you moved up and down him. Your hand reached out and began to move in the way Remus previously showed you as he began to leak.

“Wait, Y/N,” he gasped, “I-”

“Hm?” you asked, coming up for air with a pop of your lips.

“I don’t think-” Remus blushed feverishly, “If you continue, I don’t think I can do much else tonight... if...”

“Oh,” you blushed as well and pressed a kiss to the top before climbing back up to him. “Was I good?” you ask in the same tone as Remus had.

“Better than good,” he struggled to catch his breath. “We don’t... have to go any further if-”

“I want to.” you replied quickly, “If you want to.”

Remus nodded as fast as he could. “But only if you want to-”

“For god sakes,” you laughed, kissing his neck whilst you straddled him, “I want to, please? Please?”

Remus’ eyes darkened upon hearing your begging. The small amounts of ‘please’ made him want to do nothing more than fuck your brains out. He cursed himself for thinking such impolite things but he couldn’t help but look at your drawn eyes, perfectly innocent and wanting, and flipped the two of you over. Remus’ hand found your core again, pushing with his fingers around your clit.

“I’m nervous,” you let out an embarrassed giggle. Remus looked up at you and cupped your cheek with his hand.

“Don’t be, it’s just me, yeah?” he repeated what you had said earlier, the sentence made your stomach flutter in nerves and anxiousness. Remus moved his hand from your wetness and wrapped his hand around himself, groaning at the wetness.

“We can stop anytime you want, okay, Love?” he assured, “If it hurts, please tell me and we can stop.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

Remus lowered his forehead to touch yours after pressing a cute kiss on the button of your nose. From your heat, you could feel Remus brushing his tip against you, slowly up and down the slit, basking in the wetness and arousal. Remus begged himself for any sense of control as he began to push himself in. A gasp left your mouth making Remus stop in hesitance.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed his arm and cupped the back of his neck, “keep going.”

Remus continued to push in. He could barely... no, he absolutely could not describe the wondrous feeling of your tight pussy around him. He wasn’t even halfway in and yet he could feel you pulsing around him.

Another gasp, a sharp inhale made him stop and look up towards you worried. He saw your eyes sprout tears and almost pulled out before you gripped his arm tightly.

“Don’t stop, I’m fine,” you said shakily, “you’re just bigger than I thought.”

He almost lost himself hearing that but pushed himself until his pubic bone was touching yours. The depth, tightness and the wet pulsing created a groan. He leaned on his forearms, pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and said comforting words.

“So good, darling, you take me so well,” his voice was gruff and rugged as he controlled himself. “Can’t imagine doing it with anyone else,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you kissed his lips and said honestly. Remus whispered back before placing his face in the crook of your neck.

It was extraordinary how full you felt and how you stretched with him. Though, you cannot deny the pressure and uncomfortableness of it all, you still wished for him to be inside of you forever. Remus basked in the warmth and his patience was wearing you thin.

“Rem, you can move, please move.” you pulled on his hair. With movement of his hips, he slid back and into you once again. He could feel you stretching along with him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he let out before pushing in again. “You feel so good,”

His pace picked up, still small and slow, but enough for the pain to subside and enough for you to feel the rigid and hardness of his length. The feeling alone could make you go insane but you settled for sucking and biting on his shoulder. Remus’ hips snapped into yours, a little faster, and the bed beneath you squeaked along with the moans.

“Faster,” you begged with a voice nearly fucked out. Remus connected your lips before shifting your leg on his hip, the sudden deeper feeling made both of you moan as you kissed frantically. Remus could feel your nails digging into his back and thought of the pain as the best pain he had ever felt. Burning came within both of your stomachs as hearts connected in breathlessness.

“I’m” he struggled, “I’m close, love,”

“Please.” was the only word you could say.

Remus thought of your touches, shy and loving, he thought of your lips around him and the sucking of his tip. He thought of his head burrowed between your thighs and the naughty words you said. He thought of the way you wore his sweaters and how they were too big so it hung off your body. He thought of the loving, affection and every other emotion he felt for you and spilled himself full of you. The sudden motion of this newfound feeling made Remus shudder and with a high-pitched moan, he came. He stayed still for a moment, thinking if he made any movements he’d pass out.

As he pulled away, the two of you whimpered with the loss of contact. He fell next to you, laying on his side so he could admire how properly fucked out you looked. You turned to look at him, pupils blown out, hickies littering your breasts and neck, he watched your nipples harden and the softness of your skin move with your breathing. The silence was comforting as the two of you smiled shyly at each other.

“Was I good?” you asked. Remus couldn’t answer, you were beyond good. You were any words describing amazing.

“Absolutely.” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Now I understand why so many people love sex,” you laughed humorly.

“If it were up to me,” Remus finally had caught his breath, “We wouldn’t leave the bedroom.”

“Is that a challenge?” your eyebrows raised.

“Don’t tempt me, my love,” he grinned back.

The day after, when Remus took a shower. He was sad to wash off the scent of you, but needed the comfort of the warm water. He looked into the mirror at the scars you had held and traced whilst he slept. When he turned, he saw his back drawn with marks of your nails written from the movements of love. Remus Lupin, in all his glory, realized the only scars he’d love were the ones you placed onto him.

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