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#you can’t tell anyway without looking hard my hair is wavy
lovergirly · 1 year
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mornings with wednesday
i wrote this while super drunk so please bear with me. i love y’all so much i hope you enjoy 💕
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dating wednesday addams was a crazy experience. she didn’t quite know how to express emotions, but she tried for you. she held the door open, kissed your knuckles, allowed you to pick on her without killing you, etc. your favorite part, however, was mornings with your lovely, goth girlfriend. it was currently 5 am and you could feel wednesday trying to get out of your grasp.
“wednesday stop-“
“no. it’s 5, i need to get up. you should too.” you can see her braided hair was slightly messy and she didn’t have any makeup on. she looked beautiful.
“can we please cuddle for another five minutes?”
“why must you always ask this? you know i say no every time so just let me get up.” she sees your face turn a little sour so she sighs and leans in to give you a kiss. she finally gets up and leaves for the bathroom to take a shower. you stare at the door for a couple seconds before starting to close your eyes again, only to hear wednesday yell, “don’t go back to sleep,” through the door. you never understood how she knew you that well. so well she could tell your every move, even when she couldn’t see you. you disregarded her words anyway, and took a nap until she got out of the bathroom.
“i thought i gave you explicit instructions.” you simple smile at her and she deadpans back at you.
“i’m tired what can i say my love?”
“you can say nothing and get out of bed.”
“whatever.” you say while finally getting out of bed. you get dressed in your uniform while wednesday changes into the same uniform but all black. just looking at her made you fall even deeper in love. she always looked so composed. even when it’s 5:45 am and her hair is down and… wait. her hair is down. it was longer than you expected, very wavy. she looked absolutely elegant, but you knew she’d braid her hair again. it’s never not braided after all. why not make the morning just a tad bit romantic.
“wednesday?” you asked while conjuring up the sweetest voice you could find.
“yes mi amor?”
“can i braid your hair… please?”
wednesday paused. she never let anyone touch her hair. it was her thing. she always needed to look composed, it didn’t matter who she was with. as long as she was composed she’d be fine. she can’t act nervous right now because it makes her lose control of her body. and when she loses control of her body she loses control of her words. “you want to- what?… umm why may i… ask?”
“because i love you and i want to make you feel beautiful. and if doing your hair will do that then i must braid your hair.” you shrug. deep down your real reason was to be close to wednesday. you loved her. her shampoo, her hair, her face. not only that but her personality, her charisma, her style. you loved the girl in front of you with everything you could. and in return she loved you. she sat in front of you as you started dividing her hair and getting to work. she was nervous (though she’d rather swim through a pool of her own blood than admit that). she loved your gentle touches and how you can make her feel like a precious doll. now wednesday hated feeling weak, but with you she didn’t feel that way. she instead felt loved. every smile you sent her way was true love. every time you reached for her hand when you were nervous was true love. every time you apologize for pulling her hair a little too hard was true love. you both were so in love with each other and neither of you were scared to admit it. “oh mi amor, you did such a good job on my hair.” the goth praises while giving you a kiss of the nose.
“of course i did! i tried my hardest. now it’s 6:15 we need to get breakfast.”
“of course after you my love.” she says while opening the door for you and giving a false bow to show how chivalrous she is.
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i hope you guess enjoyed !! like i said i’m very drunk rn so i’ll probably delete this tomorrow morning or something. leave me more requests i’ll get back to them asap!!
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furashuban · 4 months
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Nocturnal
Something a little different this time :>
Words: 2.3k
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53384422/chapters/135113332
Summary: In the middle of the night, a little girl runs up to an old woman wide awake in her bedroom to tell her why she can't go to school.
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Carole would always find herself awake in the dead of night whilst everyone else throughout the county had fallen fast asleep. She had no purpose being up so late; she would do nothing but lay upright in bed reading a storybook she had checked out from the Reading Center she managed before clocking out. Sometimes she would change her routine slightly, choosing to be in the living room instead and pace around on the carpet with said book in her hands. If Ryanne were here, she would deplore Carole for not only developing such an unhealthy routine for a woman her age, but failing to desire a solution to fix it while she still could.
The door to her room was wide open; all the lights in the hallway were still turned on and gave a white-range hue to the bedroom. Carole could sense a shadow, and she looked up to see a little girl in baby blue pajamas inching towards her doorway; her long and wavy brown hair in disarray and her head hung slightly low as she stared back at the woman in bed.
“Frankie,” she called the girl’s name gently and soft with affection. “Can’t sleep?”
The 10-year-old nodded shyly, to which Carole then put aside her book and opened her arms to show her she was invited in. Frankie rushed to climb in bed and quickly cozied up beside the woman before being wrapped around her arm. “What time is it now, Carole?”
“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Carole consoled, combing her fingers through the young girl’s unkempt hair, “you’ll still have plenty of time to catch some rest before school tomorrow.”
Hearing the words school and tomorrow next to each other gave Frankie a sinking feeling in her chest. “Carole…?” she raised her head up, her tone solemn.
“Yes?”
The girl took a second before saying anything, hesitant about what words to use and if it was either a good time to say them or even a good idea at all. But Carole had always taught her to be unafraid of pouring her heart out to her, or to anyone for that matter, even if they were strange for others to hear—she had a right to be heard anyway, to figure everything out with the help of others in the county along the way with gentleness and understanding.
“I can’t go to school tomorrow,” confessed Frankie, “I don’t feel very good, so I don’t think I can go to any of my classes because of it.”
Carole placed her palm on Frankie’s forehead, then on the side of her neck. “Hm, but you seem to be pretty healthy,” she gave the girl a curious look.
“It’s not that,” Frankie sighed. “There’s a quiz tomorrow that I’m not ready for, then a project that I’m having trouble finishing but it’s due the day AFTER the quiz, then another quiz after that, and I keep reading books I don’t actually want to read and I just don’t want to be in school at all ‘cause I get so jumpy the longer I stay there! I’m trying really hard, I really am, Carole, but…but…”
When Frankie struggled to say another word, remembering all the other arduous schoolwork in store for her this week, Carole leaned a little closer to tuck a section of her hair behind her ear so that her face was a little less cloaked. “It’s just unfair how they’re giving too many things without time to rest, isn’t it.”
“Yeah…” all the weight in Frankie’s heart seemed to have left in an instant, to have someone older than her understand her so well that they could put her difficult feelings into proper words meant the whole world to her.
“Poor ol’ Frances Schwinn,” Carole said sweetly. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to skip one day of school if you really can’t go.”
“You really mean it?” and for the first time tonight, if not in a long time, Frankie’s eyes lit up with hope, though an air of cautiousness lingered in the back of her mind. There was no way Carole could reasonably allow her to skip classes when she had so much to do.
“Don’t worry, the people that run the school and I know each other, I can convince them to let you find other days to do your schoolwork…Well, more like I can get Ryanne to do it with me first,” Carole snickered; Ryanne had the upper hand when it came to being confrontational, given her position as a council member, and never once did this enigmatic woman say no to doing a favor for Carole, much to her reluctance until she knew it was for Frankie’s sake. “But I promise, sunbeam, nothing more needs to be said. Girls like you need some time to let loose, especially when you’ve been giving it your best for who knows how long. The only thing missing, of course, is someone who recognizes that.”
Frankie threw her arms around Carole immediately. “Thanks so much, Carole,” she rejoiced, trying not to sound too exultant against her ear, but Carole could tell she was the happiest girl in the world because Frankie’s joy was her joy, too, and she wrapped her arms back around the girl.
“It’s no trouble, dearie.”
As soon as the Frankie withdrew from her embrace, she could have sworn the air around the room was suddenly frostier than before, like she was atop Mount Everest—not that she had ever been before. “Your room is really cold,” Frankie quivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
“That’s because my house is right by the sea,” Carole also couldn’t help but pull the blanket closer, “I could go for a cup of cocoa in times like this.”
At that, Carole could feel an imaginary lightbulb spark atop her head. “Hm, what do you say to that? I can whip us both a cup or two in the kitchen really quick.” Frankie pursed her lips before simply nodding in agreement. “That’s the spirit.”
Before long, the gray-haired woman and the little girl practically leapt out of bed and ambled onto the small hallway yonder. “Can I turn on your record player while you’re making the cocoa?” Frankie requested, knowing the two of them were going to be up a lot longer than she had expected.
The record player in the living room was Frankie’s favorite thing in Carole’s house. It was fairly modern than most other phonographs, simply a wooden box resting atop a pedestal as tall as the girl herself, but thankfully it was close enough to the sofa where she could mount herself by the armrest and gently place a down record without any trouble nor help from Carole. Frankie liked being able to switch it on herself once the older woman had taught her how to use it. But first, she browsed through the crammed shelves that took up a whole corner of Carole’s living room, which were towering so close to the ceiling that Frankie needed a stool to stand on as she flipped through the dedicated cubicle for vinyl covers which was still so high above.
In the kitchen, Carole had her and Frankie’s mugs settled on the countertop right after she stopped the kettle on the stovetop from shrieking and puffing. She could hear Frankie humming a tune around the corner; a tune, the older woman recognized, as being from the record the little girl had picked out and was setting atop the record player. With the flick of switch and the touch of a needle on a rotating record (in that order), the house became filled with the fuzzy, homely melody of a piano and a man’s high-note singing that mimicked the tune Frankie was humming.
“If I knew that someone cared for me, I'd let the world go by.”
“Someone who was truer as true could be, I’d never want to sigh.”
The cocoa mix and hot milk were stirred well in each mug, and Carole carried them over to the living room where she found Frankie cuddled up on the sofa with a Raggedy Ann doll she had left there this morning—which she named “Rosie”. The 10-year-old awaited her hot cocoa whilst trying not to look too eager as she was being offered her mug, appearing stiff in the way she sat up and especially in her expression, which made Carole giggle.
“Thanks for this, Carole,” the girl then took a slight sip of cocoa, still too steamy and scorching for her to handle.
The gray-haired woman took a seat on her rocking chair across the room. “It’s hasn’t been an hour, but I hope you’re feeling a little better now than before, sunbeam.”
Frankie took a moment to concentrate on the gentle music in the room, the velvety taste of her cocoa along with its heat to bear the cold sea-air breaching into the house, Rosie limp on her lap and all the quaint decorations she could eye on around the house such as a mandolin hung on one wall and pots of ivy hung on another—and lastly, Carole Paxson giving her undivided attention to her long unheeded well-being. Nothing here could remotely remind her of quizzes and projects. She grinned softly, let out a small breath, and murmured to Carole, “Yeah, so much better.”
There was a large chest in the center of the living room which was used as the coffee table, draped with a dark red cloth and ornamented with a completed jigsaw puzzle of a Monet painting, a trio of candle stands and a little Bonsai tree on top of it. Carole squinted as she noticed among the decorations a lone book with a sky-blue cover; a copy of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis.
“I don’t remember leaving this here.” Carole remarked as she reached for the book.
“That’s mine,” Frankie pointed out. “Well, it’s Maddie’s, but she said I could borrow it. I haven’t been able to continue reading because of school, though.”
Carole opened the book to its first page. Sure enough, on the upper right of the foreword read “MJH’s book” written tinnily in pencil along with a neatly drawn star next to it. Maddeline Jean Hewitt, Carole instantly recognized what the initials stood for, sparking a new how-to-make-Frankie-feel-better plan upon seeing.
“You know, you can spend the rest of the day tomorrow at the Hewitts’ if you’d like that, sunbeam,” the older woman spoke in an uplifting tone. “I’m sure Maddie would be just as happy knowing you now have time to play together.” Maddie was a homeschooled girl, and coming to see her meant Frankie did not have to feel alone and awkward about not being in school while every other child was.
“Is…that a good idea?” Frankie asked. “It kind of feels wrong to skip school just so I could play with my friend.”
“Sure, it’s fine,” Carole insisted. “It’s like I said, you deserve to let loose, dearie, and that means making the most out of time you didn’t have before, not just having plain ol’ rest. Plus, time at the Hewitts sounds much comfier than time at school if you ask me.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I guess maybe I will see Maddie tomorrow,” Frankie shrugged tautly; even when she wasn’t sure about going, she knew seeing Maddie at her family’s big brick house at Sandalwood always lit her up, and it had been so long since both girls saw each other.
When Frankie took another sip of cocoa, she drew her attention to the wall clock just above Carole’s chair, and the young girl gawked in disbelief seeing that the hour hand was at 2. Being up so late, while thrilling, was just unheard of, if not strictly forbidden for children like her. And though Frankie was only partly sleepy in this hour, she realized how Carole never seemed to look tired at all since they first saw each other in the bedroom.
“Carole? What time do you sleep?”
“Hmm…Three …Maybe four o’clock-ish?”
“But why though?”
The old woman also sipped on her cocoa before speaking; the steam fogging up her thin-rimmed glasses. Truthfully, she was not a hundred-percent sure how to answer the curious child across her, only thinking about her usual routine to remotely give any good reason for staying up so late. “If I’m gonna be honest, Frankie,” she smacked her lips, “I think it’s ‘cause I just really like reading books,” and the two girls snickered, it was hard to argue knowing how long a good book can really take to finish.
“In fact, now that you don’t have your quizzes to worry about anymore,” Carole held up the copy of the Narnia book, “how’s about you finally get around to continuing this one, together with me?”
“Hmm…okay!” Frankie’s heart soared; a book she wanted to read at long last. She reached for the record player to lower the volume a tad, that way she could hear the older woman read whilst the music she loved carried on at the same time.
The moment Carole flipped through the page the bookmark reserved, the man’s voice from the record player, while much fainter now, was already singing the final chorus of the song.
“Let the great big world keep turning, never mind if I’ve got you”
“For I only know that I want you so, and there’s no one else will do.”
“You have simply set me yearning, and forever I’ll be true.”
Frankie took a break from drinking her cocoa when she realized it was still too hot, setting it aside on the coffee-table-chest. She hugged onto Rosie and laid herself down comfortably on her side, and she listened to Carole recite the passages of her book with great sincerity and fervor as though she had really gone to Narnia, and the 4 siblings of the book were really in the room.
“Let the great big world keep on turning ‘round, now I’ve found someone like you.”
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truly-morgan · 10 months
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[JC's daddy meets JFM]
AllCheng (RuoCheng focused) | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 10-04-2021
[#allcheng (slightly ruocheng focused)- modern] 
Of course, jfm couldn't leave it at that and he/ needed/ to know. So he may or may not have learned what his son had been up to all this time and that he had never told him after snooping around (even wwx seemed to know some of it?!). 
To say he didn't like the idea was an understatement. He hated it. How could his son not only be with an older man, but /five/ of them at the same time, one of which was an old business rival of his! 
He tried contacting jc, but he was either too busy to talk (which now he knew /why/) or wouldn't pick up, so he decided to go to his apartment without notice. The semester had restarted, he shouldn’t be travelling around too much now, was he? 
He had to ask wwx for the address, coming rather late in the morning to make sure his son would be awake, having no clue if the young man was working on the weekends. He was surprised by how big and expensive the place seemed to be, wondering how he could afford it (although he had his own suspicion). 
He still went for it, only to not have his son open the door for him. Oh no, far from that, he wished it had been anyone else. 
Wrh was standing in the doorway, only wearing pyjama bottoms, looking as if he had woken up only moments ago. There was a silence when they suddenly got face to face, only for wrh to smirk a bit. “How can I help you, jfm?”. Jfm doesn’t really have the time to argue anything when a voice comes from deeper in the apartment, footsteps coming closer to them. “A-han is it lxh? I thought he said he would pass only tomorrow to help me with my homework”. 
Then an even bigger and more awkward silence fell on everyone when he finally saw his father, suddenly feeling that the only thing he was wearing was wrh shirt (which thankfully was too big and hide him rather well even though he was wearing underwear). He asked what he was doing here, trying not to sound too bad, seriously surprised because he did /not/ remember ever giving him his address (not that jfm ever asked about it in the first place). 
“Can’t I visit my own son to make sure everything is alright?” he receives, clearly eyeing wrh, which jc doesn’t know /how/ to explain his presence, even less with all the scratch marks on his back (he really did that?) and the hickeys he had been allowed to place on his chest. He was probably no better, wrh just loving leaving tonnes of marks on the inside of his tights, knowing there were probably still some leftover marks from the restraint he had the night before. 
It would be hard the deny what he had done. 
He wanted to just say he had things to do, but jfm kind of forced his way in, telling him he /knew/ what he was up to. This only made jc nervous, thankfully wrh was here to keep him relaxed, moving them back to the kitchen so they could sit down. Clearly, jfm was not going to let it go and it was probably better if jc could just sit down and not worry. 
It was hard to do when pictures were slapped on the table, showing him with his different lovers, either too affectionate or straight-up kissing in some. He was so screwed, jfm knew and now he was so disappointed He was taken out of his panic by a hand gently going through his hair, still wavy from the tight braid he had the day before. It helped him relax, going back to what he had settled for in the past months. 
So what if jfm was disappointed? It had always been like this and now he was living /for himself/. 
The following request for him to stop all this and stop acting in such ways wasn’t really that surprising. He was pretty sure jfm was probably even restraining himself not to say he was acting like a whore (he knew some people would think like this, but he didn’t care, he loved all of them the same anyway). 
“And why should I listen to you? I thought you had made it clear enough that you didn’t care much about me anymore, I don’t see why I should care about your demands”. He tried sounding confident in his words, yet his hands were shaking under the table, so unused to talking back like this and outright /refusing/ anything his father was telling him. 
The effect was good, as jfm looked rather stunned by his words, only once had jc really gone against him and it was when they argued after the young man changed his study course entirely without telling them. 
“/you/ decided I wasn’t worth putting any attention and love into, I simply found people who saw my worth and decided to do what you never did: love and appreciate me without intendable expectation,” jc said, starting to feel much more confident now that jfm wasn’t immediately adding anything (and that wrh was sitting close to him). 
“/I/ decided I would live for myself and found what seemed good for me, /I/ decided to be the Jiang Cheng /I/ was, not the one you wanted me to be, which was basically setting myself up for pain and disappointment”. 
His shaking as slowly went from nervous to angry, years of repressed anger and frustration finally coming to the surface. He felt like it was now that he needed to say what he needed or he would never find the same courage to do so. 
“/you/ decided to never be there for me. Had an archery competition? Of course, couldn’t come, too busy with work, but wwx teacher was doing an art gallery for his class? Of course, you were there. Got badly sick at school one time and again you couldn’t come when you knew damn well mother was away and couldn’t either. But the time jyl was slightly sick you would come and get her, same for wwx. I never decided to push you away, you just never tried to keep me close to you as I was slowly crumbling down.” 
Jfm didn’t miss the trilled and proud look wrh had throughout jc monologue, the young man kept on finding things jfm had done to fail at being a good father. He was so proud because jc was being honest and bold about what he thought, something he had slowly pushed him towards. Talking like this had clearly been something jc wouldn’t have been able to do when he first started helping the young man. 
“I was not enough for you so I found people for whom I was more than enough, and you have /no idea/ just how much better I am doing now, having people recognise what I do and who are able to give me some praise”. 
“So all you are looking for is praises?”. 
Jc frowned at this, only to turn towards wrh when he heard him give a dry laugh “As always, you do not listen when you are being told something” he simply commented. 
Then jfm proceed to try and say if it was praise, he wanted, he had praised him before. To which jc didn’t even let him finish with a “Don’t you dare. When was the last time in the past ten years you ever praised me because you were genuinely proud of what I did and not to make wwx shine even more in comparison to me”. 
The silence and thinking were enough of an answer, making him both angry and wanting to cry. He already knew his father had given up on ever having anything good from jc for what /he wanted/ from him (because of course, jc doing good in anything else was just a waste of time). 
“How pathetic, you cannot find anything in the past years yet I can find tone in the past days?” wrh asked, clearly loving how he was getting under jfm skin with how much he seemed to know more about jc than he did (and he was his father!). “a-cheng did really great in his latest culinary test, managed to create an interesting menu for a class which was in the top five for his class, kept on working hard in his study while working at the same time” he continued a little bit more, saying all things jc had done greatly lately, many being academic because it's as most likely what jfm valued the most. 
“and you cannot even find one in ten years” he simply finished. 
There was a silence between all of them. After some time, jc simply pushed back to photos of his father. “I found people that I love and love me back, I won’t give it all up because someone who doesn’t even spare me a glance other than if it can possibly stain his reputation is asking me to” simply stated. 
He stopped him when he was about to talk again, cutting him yet another time like he would have never dared in the past. “You should go, clearly you are not open to understanding me and I am /not/ open to changing what I am doing now”. 
There was more silence, before jfm took back his papers, stood up and left. This somehow made jc both relieved that he wouldn’t argue more against the small good he had found (the first in years!) but also disappointed that he didn’t even want to put some effort into understanding his own son. 
Only when he heard the door shut that he finally stood up on shaky legs, wrh sliding his chair back a bit so he could straddle him, his arms hooking around the older man quickly, hiding in the crook of his neck, only then allowing himself to feel upset. 
This had been a bit too much for him, too much anger, disappointment and hurt at the same time. All because jfm refused yet again to see who jc was and not impose who he wanted him to be. “It’s alright a-cheng” he heard gently whispered, arms keeping him close, a hand gently rubbing his back. “You did nothing wrong, you even did very well in finally saying what was bothering you, it is not your fault he decided not to listen, we are all here for you if you need it”. He kept on gently reassuring him, whispering sweet nothing by time just so he would calm down. 
Yes, jc had made the right choice. He was truly better off with them, he wouldn’t need to change who he was for them to be happy about him. “How did it feel?” he heard after some time, still holding tightly to wrh. 
“good” he replied after a moment. 
It truly felt good to finally let it all out.
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What is Home? Chapter 2
Materpost Chapter 1 Chapter 3
TW: Food Mentioned, Implied Neglect, Implied Abuse
Age(s): Janus (16)
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After three more hours of driving, the two of them finally make it to the neighboring state. Roman looks out the window with an amused expression on their face. They have never really ever been outside of their town and even then they barely ever explored their hometown. So, they were excited to be in a place outside of the bubble they‘ve been trapped inside their whole life.
They look out the window for a few minutes before they’re hit with the realization that they don’t actually know where they’re going. Remus hasn’t told them where they’ll be staying yet, so they turn to their brother.
“Rem, where are we going now?” they questioned, “You haven’t exactly told me where we’ll be staying for now.”
Remus hums, “Oh yeah, I guess I must have forgotten to tell you, my bad. Anyway, I called my friend, Janus back at the Waffle House and they agreed to let us stay at their house for a week.”
Roman nods before turning back to the window and thinks for a while before continuing to talk, “So, Janus goes by they/them pronouns too?”
“They go by all pronouns.” 
The younger twin nods, “Oh okay. I’ll keep that in mind then.”
The other doesn’t respond this time and instead just goes back to focusing on the road. He has never driven in this city before so he had to make sure he focused as he drove to Janus’s house. He doesn’t really want to deal with getting lost.
Remus successfully gets to Janus’s house without getting lost after about 10 minutes.
“We’re here,” the older twin announces as he stops the car and turns to his sibling. “Ready to get out?”
The tanner teen takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”
The two of them get out of the car and walk to the front door of the decent sized one story house. Roman makes sure to walk behind their brother. They’ve never met this Janus person before, so they’re nervous to just walk in and live in a stranger’s house. I mean, they trust their brother’s judgment but it’s still nerve racking. 
On top of that, the twins have always been considered hard to be around. The two of them are often considered loud, obnoxious, mischievous, and frustrating. And for the most part, these criticisms are valid since the twins played into these assumptions. They were okay with being seen in a less than positive light. Now, however, they can't risk keeping up their bad reputation. 
The two of them can no longer misbehave the way they used to in the past. In their hometown, they were able to get away with vandalism, stealing, fighting, and smoking. They were able to get away with these actions because they believed they were untouchable. Now however, they’re runaways. They have to fly under the radar. They can’t risk getting in trouble with the police because if they did their plan would be ruined and the consequences they tried to escape would hit them harder than ever.
So, now that they have to live with someone else, they have to be on their best behavior. The last thing they can afford is getting on Janus’s bad side and being kicked out of his house before they could get an apartment. 
The door opens and Roman is immediately stunned by how beautiful Janus is. 
They admire the way the stranger’s dark skin seems to glow in the sunlight. The way his long wavy hair managed to look messy yet well kept at the same time. The way his dark chocolate colored eyes appeared both inviting and serious. What caught Roman’s attention the most though, was Janus’s birthmark that covered a large amount of the left side of his face. It was unlike any other birthmark Roman has ever seen and it was beautiful.
“Hey Rem. I’m assuming this is your twin?” Janus spoke, his voice relatively deep.
Remus smiles and nods, “Jan meet Roman,” he turns to his sibling, “Ro meet Janus.”
Roman waves at the taller teen, “Hey, nice to meet you. Thank you for letting us stay with you for a while.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” the other replies, “And of course. Your brother is a good friend of mine so I don’t mind helping when I can. Anyway, come on in.”
The twins go inside and Janus begins to show them around the house. Janus shows them the guest room and where everything they might need is such as toilet paper and bandages. Once the tour is over, the three of them go to the living room.
“Hey, Ro do you mind starting to move some of our stuff to the guest room while Jan and I catch up?”
The younger twin nods, “Yeah, sure. You better come help me if I need help though.” 
“I will, I will, now go.”
Roman hums and walks out of the house after getting the car keys. They start getting out their stuff, which wasn’t really much. They only had a couple of backpacks and plastic bags that carried the couple of stuff they took with them.
“So, when did you move out of your parents house?” Remus asks as he sits down on the couch, across from Janus, who is sitting in an armchair.
The dark skinned teen shrugs, “Like two months ago. I was able to convince my parents to let me move out after I bought my car.”
The curly haired boy nods, “Well that’s good. If you hadn’t moved out then Ro and I would be screwed right now.”
“Okay, tell me what happened. Why did you two run away?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is a good time to talk about that, Jan,” the taller teen says with a sigh. “I mean, all I feel comfortable telling you is that Ro and I couldn’t deal with our parents anymore. Before I can tell you more about what happened, I need to make sure Ro is okay with me telling you.”
Janus nods, “Alright, I understand. Well can you at least tell me a bit about how you got here? I mean, I didn’t know you had a car and stuff.”
“Oh, yeah I recently got the car actually,” Remus begins to explain. “I’ve been saving up some money for like 3 years and I finally raised enough to buy one. I had to keep it hidden from our parents though.”
“Damn,” The other teen can’t help but be impressed by his friend, “I’m glad you managed to buy your car. Anyway, what did you guys bring?”
“Ah,” the tan 16-year-old looks down, “If I’m being honest, not much. We brought our clothes, not all of them since some of them were too old. We have our phones, our toothbrushes, pillows, blankets, and just some other small stuff. We have some snacks and water too but that’s really it.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lot of stuff for two teenagers moving out.”
“Yeah well we can’t exactly bring everything you know?” Remus tries to justify how little stuff they brought, “I mean, if we took too many things it might be too obvious that we ran away. Plus, a lot of the things we had our parents owned so we can’t risk taking it and our parents reporting it.”
Janus just shakes his head and stays quiet for a while before realizing something, “Wait! You both took your phones? Can’t they track your location that way?”
“No, they can’t,” the twin reassures, “They didn’t know we had phones, we had a “friend” buy them for us.”
“How much stuff do you guys have that your parents don’t know about?” The shorter teen asks with a concerned tone, worried as to how parents could be so negligent and naive to what their kids are doing.
Remus laughs, “A shit ton of stuff. Ro and I have a lot of secrets, especially from our parents since they’ll just throw a fit at some of the stuff we got.”
“That’s not a good thing Rem,” Janus states, worried that the other teen can just laugh about the way his parents treat him.
The twin just shrugs, “So, how’s school?’
With that change of topic, the two of them continue to talk about their lives. Despite the fact that Janus and Remus have been friends for a while, the two of them have only talked online so there was a lot of stuff for the two of them to learn about one another. 
“Hey Rem, I’m done moving our stuff,” Roman walks into the living room.
Remus nods and checks the time before standing up, “Alright. Well, it’s getting late, we should probably start setting up the room and stuff before it gets too late.”
“Do you guys want something to eat first?” Janus offers, “You two haven’t eaten since this morning, right?”
Both twins go quiet for a while. If they were being honest, the two of them weren’t sure what to say, after all they’re not used to eating more than once a day. It was especially strange for them considering how much they ate for breakfast.”
“We’re good actually,” Remus eventually says, “We’ll tell you if we get hungry though.”
The oldest of the three teens hums, “Alright. Well, I’ll see you both later then. If either of you need anything, feel free to tell me.”
With that the twins go to the guest room and the two of them begin to organize the few things they have. They keep their clothes in some bags since they won’t stay at the house for too long. Once they're done setting everything up the two of them sit on the bed, that both of them will be sleeping on together.
“So, what should we do now?” Roman asks, not used to having nothing to do.
Remus shrugs, “How about we try to find some apartments nearby? Afterall, we have to figure out how expensive stuff is here so we can decide what type of job we should look for.”
The younger twin nods and the two of them get their shared laptop. They begin their research, spending the rest of the day doing so. Once it’s 10 pm the two decide to call it a day, after all they want to explore the neighborhood. On top of that, both of them haven’t slept properly in a few days, so the two of them quickly go to bed.
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mviswidow · 3 years
Text
wanda’s ride
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: SMUT!! porn w plot, thigh riding, a whole lot of teasing, bottom! wanda
Prompt: I was thinking maybe you could do something where wanda is flirting with natasha and other team members and fem! reader gets jealous and decides to... you know "punish" her
Summary: Wanda tries provoking R to get her to fuck her, but it lands her in trouble. A/N: there’s a bit of Sharon slander but pls forgive me, i love her. this is also kind of slow paced, but i wouldn’t say it’s slow paced in a bad way?
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Your eyes settled on Wanda talking to flirting with Natasha for probably the hundredth time that night. You knew she was doing it to get a rise out of you, especially since she kept looking at you while she was doing it, leaning closer to Nat as she laughed at whatever she said, putting her hand on her arm to hold herself up.
A few minutes later Wanda came and sat beside you where you were listening to and occasionally participating in the discussion Bucky was having with Maria about weapons or something. To be fair, you were only half paying attention because of how distracting Wanda was being.
Your thighs were pressed against hers in the lounge chair so you could both fit, and your arm ended up around her shoulder. You placed a kiss on her bare collarbone, enjoying the skin you got to see in her off-the-shoulder dress, “Behave yourself,” You warned, placing another kiss at her sweet spot before biting the skin there softly.
Wanda took your hand that wasn't around her shoulders in her own and placed it on her thighs, her hand over yours.
You chuckled and shook your head, “Always so horny, aren’t we, darling?” You said in a low voice, not wanting Bucky or Maria to hear, even though they weren’t paying attention to the two of you anyway, too caught up in their conversation.
Wanda said nothing, but just nodded as you squeezed her thigh and smirked at her flushed face. She’d begged you to just tell Tony that one of you was feeling sick so you didn’t have to go to the party and you could fuck her into the next day. Her goal was to provoke you enough to get you to leave and take her with you and you knew it, but you had much more self control than she did.
You moved your thumb back and forth on the inside of her thigh for a few minutes, listening to Bucky and Maria, sometimes jumping in on the conversation, and other times nudging Wanda for her to say something.
She wasn’t listening so most of the time she just agreed with whatever she’d heard last. She was trying to think of something that would push you over the edge and get you to drag her out of the room.
Eventually, Steve came over to talk to Bucky and Tony had called you over, so the two of you had separated again.
Wanda was growing frustrated because no matter what she did, you would just smirk at her or stare stone faced. She was really horny after working herself up, thinking of all the ways you would ruin her. There was probably an hour left of the party when she got an idea, hoping that it would work.
Finally, your expression changed when she walked over to Sharon, starting up a conversation. She knew how you weren’t particularly fond of her. You didn’t hate her, but you hated the way she would look at Wanda sometimes when she happened to be in the training room while the two of you were training. And you despised the way her eyes flicked to Wanda’s cleavage when she got closer to her. Your eyebrows shot up when you saw Wanda put her hands on Sharon’s waist, and Sharon looked like she was thanking Wanda, so you assumed your girlfriend had complimented her, but you were having none of it when you were worried Sharon would put her hands on Wanda.
“For fucks sake,” You muttered, excusing yourself from Tony and Natasha, which made them laugh when they saw what Wanda was doing to get you riled up, before going over to where she was standing with Sharon beside the bar, your heels clicking on the floor.
Wanda backed up when she heard you getting closer, and when you put an arm around her waist before kissing her temple, she smiled at you, “Hi, sweetheart.”
You hummed in response before turning to Sharon, greeting her quickly to get the niceties out of the way, nodding at her half smile. “Do you still not feel well, my love? I finally convinced Tony to let us back to our room now that things have died down.”
You almost smirked at the excited look in Wanda’s eyes, but you just moved your arm further down her waist, letting it rest right above her ass while you both said goodbye to Sharon and made your way to the elevator.
You took her hand in yours, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and walked inside, clicking the button to your floor.
Neither of you spoke and the tension was thick, but you just stood there leaning against the wall, playing with the rings on Wanda’s fingers, thinking of all the things you could do to her, knowing she was reading your mind.
Her breathing had become irregular and her face was red, her lips slightly parted, and you noticed her thighs pressed together when you thought of ramming into her with her favorite strap-on.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You smiled and let Wanda leave first, opting to slap her on the ass playfully, which made her giggle, as you made your way into the kitchen and took a banana from the fruit bowl, peeling it and taking a bite of it as you watched Wanda shift uncomfortably on the barstool.
“What are you doing?” You asked after you swallowed your first bite.
A look of confusion played on her features and she tilted her head, “Nothing, I’m just waiting for you.”
“Go get changed for bed, just panties and a t-shirt. When you’re done I want you to come back in here and have a snack. Once you’ve done that you can come back to our room,” You instructed and watched Wanda get up and walk to your room as fast as her feet could carry her without breaking out into a run, which made you chuckle.
On your way to the room you shared with Wanda, she was passing you in the hallway, and you gave her a little smile. She looked so soft, her makeup had been wiped away and her wavy hair was resting over her shoulders, the hem of her shirt just covering her bottom.
You almost stopped her, wanting to kiss her, but you refrained from distracting yourself and her, knowing that she would try to eat quickly and you didn’t want her to make herself sick or anything.
Once in your room, you changed out of your clothes from the party and put on underwear, a pair of sleep shorts, and a tank top that you often wore to bed. You wiped away your makeup and fixed your hair so it would stay out of your face before picking up the book you’d been reading from your nightstand and going from where you were.
After a few short minutes, you heard the door open, but you didn’t look up until you’d reached the bottom of the page you were on, noticing that Wanda was still standing at the door, looking unsure of what to do.
“Do you need something?” You asked innocently with a cocked eyebrow.
“I just thought we were - you know, that you would-”
“Spit it out, baby,” You interrupted.
She looked flustered and you had half the mind to laugh at her, “I thought you were going to punish me.”
You nodded and looked back to your book, “I will.”
She chuckled and finally closed the door, walking up to the bed and sitting on her knees in front of you, clearly wanting your attention. “Are you just going to make me wait?”
“I’ll leave you untouched for a week if you’re going to be a brat about it,” You challenged, looking up at her.
“I’m sorry,” She apologized immediately, panic in her eyes. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
You smiled, pleased at her response, and leaned up to kiss her. She tried to work you up, doing the little things she knew you loved, and you teased her back just as much, biting her bottom lip, brushing your tongue with hers. You squeezed her lower lip between your lips as you pulled away from her, making her smile.
“So are we-”
“If you want to get off right now, the only way you’ll be doing it is on my thigh,” You deadpanned, looking back down at your book and moving your thigh closer to her.
“What, while you just sit there and read?” She scoffed.
You sighed, feigning annoyance, “Would you rather I get the strap out and make you cockwarm until I finish my book? I have around 100 pages left, you’d be there for quite a while, my love, just dripping onto my lap.”
Wanda shook her head, as much as she loved cockwarming for you, “I need to cum, babe, please. If I ride your thigh will you let me?”
“Probably,” You shrugged. “Take your panties off before you get on,” You said, tapping your thigh before you flipped the page of your book. You were only half paying attention, it was really hard to read while your girlfriend was ready to beg you to fuck her, but you knew how much she absolutely hated the lack of attention you were giving her, so you considered it worth it.
You felt her weight leave the bed for a second, and she hurried to get her panties off before getting back on and carefully straddling your thigh that had been waiting for her and placing one of her hands on your shoulder and the other on the bed next to your leg.
You bit the inside of your lip when you felt the wetness from her cunt on your skin, she was dripping and you were itching to comment on it, but stayed silent until you heard her sigh, relieved that she could finally get what she needed, whether you planned on helping her or not, “Oh, I wouldn’t get too excited yet, princess, I can’t make it too easy for you, now can I?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
You opted to ignore her attitude, “By the end of the night, your ass is going to be nine different shades of red after that little stunt you pulled tonight. We’re only getting started with this.” You said, and you couldn’t resist looking at her, an exasperated look on her face.
“You’re cruel,” She whined.
You hummed in agreement and slapped her ass with your hand, which made her hips jerk forwards, “Move.”
You didn’t have to tell her twice. She immediately started moving her hips back and forth, spreading her wetness on you. You felt her fingernails dig into your shoulder blade and it wasn’t long before soft sighs were escaping her mouth, “What, does that feel good, pretty girl?”
“Yes,” She nodded, closing her eyes, and finally moaned. Quietly, yes, but it was your favorite thing to hear, so you didn’t care.
“Good,” You smiled and flipped your book onto yourself before taking the hand that was on your shoulder and removing the rings on her fingers off, seeing that she’d forgotten to do that in the haste of getting herself ready for you, which made you chuckle. You reached over and dropped them on the nightstand, hearing them clink together as they landed on the wood. “Now, hands off, princess, behind your back or on your thighs, your pick.”
She nodded, too turned on to protest, and put her hands behind her back, never stopping the movement of her hips. That didn’t last long though, and she only kept her hands behind her back before they fell to her thighs, gripping the bottom of her shirt and bunching it up, which gave you the most beautiful view of her clit bumping against your skin.
You noticed her pace had quickened, and you put a hand on her waist, “Slower.” You flipped your book back up to read, but you weren’t paying very much attention, it was merely for theatrics.
You kept one hand at her waist, since she was having trouble keeping the rocking of her hips slow, this was her punishment, you couldn’t make it too easy for her. You almost felt bad for her with how incredibly slow you had her going. Almost. Both of you knew she wasn’t going to cum like this, but you’d give her what she wanted eventually. The only sounds in the room were her whines and quiet grunts, and her head was down, chin almost touching her chest.
After a minute of her grinding slowly, you let her move her hips faster, you didn’t want to tire her out too quickly. Once she was going at a steady momentum, you removed your hand from her waist and smiled when she kept going at the same speed, “Look at that, who knew my best girl could be so independent?”
Wanda’s head lifted so she could glare at you, but you just smiled at her proudly and went back to your book, but you jerked your leg up while she was rocking forward, making her moan from the pressure on her clit.
“You can go faster now,” you mumbled, turning the page of your book, smiling when you got to the exact page you’d been waiting to find.
She moaned and complied, her pussy practically begging for release. You smirked as you felt her juices dribble down your thigh, “Look at that, Wands, you’re making such a mess.”
You put your finger in between the pages and shut your book, using your other hand to wipe upwards, collecting her wetness on your fingers and bringing it to your mouth, moaning when you tasted her on your tongue. God, you couldn’t wait to devour her later. Wanda whimpered at the sound of your moan and her hips started to move a little faster, and you let her.
“Hey, baby?” You hummed, wanting her attention on you.
Her eyes opened, and she looked at you, hoping that you would finally tell her you would take care of her, or that she’d been so good for you and now she could finally have what she wanted, but you said none of that. You simply turned your book towards her, pointing at a paragraph at the top of one of the pages, “Can you read this page out loud for me?”
Wanda grunted, tired, horny, annoyed, and frustrated, but took the book in her hands, moaning when she read the first two sentences in her head. You were making her read a lesbian fucking sex scene and she had never hated or loved you more.
You smirked at her as she tried to read coherently, but she was almost done, “Kate’s tongue licked a stripe up - fuck- up Alice’s center and flicked her tongue against her clit.” Wanda let out a whine and her pleading eyes met yours.
“Give me two more sentences, darling. I’ll let you fuck yourself on my thigh when you’re done, I promise,” You nodded, urging her on.
Her shaky voice continued, and you could tell she was struggling to focus, “God, Alice pulled a pillow over her face to muffle her moans, but as soon as she did, Kate pulled back, bit at her thigh. ‘Let me see,’ she- she murmured. fuck- ‘Please.’” She moaned once more and you took the book from her, tossing it to the nightstand.
“Fucking, finally,” Wanda groaned, as you sat up straighter.
Her hands surged forward and she pulled you towards her, not being able to stop herself from kissing you feverishly. You kissed her back, but not for long. You turned her head with your hand a little and started kissing down her jaw to reach her neck before starting to suck at her neck with the intention of marking her.
“Babe, fuck, don’t do that, they’ll see tomorrow,” Wanda moaned, but it didn’t seem like she cared that much, because she brought a hand up to grip your hair and her hips were moving faster.
“Good, I want them to. Maybe that bitch will learn to stay away from you then, hm? Or did you forget what got you into this? You don’t exactly have the grounds to tell me what to do right now, my love,” You smirked and nipped at the skin besides the hickey you just made.
Wanda’s hips jerked forward and her grip on your hair tightened, almost painfully, “Please,” She whimpered.
Your thigh was coated in her juices and the slickness was making it harder for her to get any friction on her clit.
“Do you want some help, princess? Is that it?” You teased, already starting to suck a new hickey above her collarbone.
She whined, “Yes, please.”
“Say it, I want to hear you say it,” You mumbled against her sweaty skin.
“Let me get off on your thigh while you play with my clit, god- please,” Wanda’s head dropped to your shoulder, but her action was short lived, because you detached your mouth from her neck, tilted her face up, and brought your thumb up to her mouth.
She parted her lips and sucked in your thumb, swirling her tongue around it and getting it wet with her spit, not that it would need to be already wet once it got down there.
You kissed her shoulder and tapped the side of her face with your other fingers, signaling for her to open her mouth.
You brought your thumb down to her clit and started rubbing slow circles, and she reacted immediately, moaning loudly and whining something in Sokovian.
You increased your pace and her hips sped up, knowing that she was close because she only started speaking in Sokovian in bed when she was going to come. She was moving almost erratically, and all she could do was babble in her mother tongue and moan at your ministrations.
“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted to see what I would do when I got mad, yes? You wanted me to make a mess of you? I think I’ve done just that, darling, I’ve reduced you to just moans and babbles.”
She nodded frantically and bucked her hips on your thigh. You kissed her and swallowed some of her moans, and at this point you were probably dripping onto the bed, too.
“‘M close, please,” She begged, needing release after being teased relentlessly.
“Take your shirt off,” You instructed, and she did immediately.
You took a nipple in your mouth, switching between biting it gently and swirling your tongue around it, and you used the hand that you weren’t using to rub at Wanda’s clit to tease the other nipple in your hand, making her back arch, almost dramatically.
She cursed in Sokovian and groaned, her movements jerky and you could tell how tired she was, “Please, ‘m gonna cum, babe, please-”
You lifted your head up from her nipple, but continued gently pulling at the other in between your fingers. Your noses brushed together as you kissed her again, before pulling back, “Go on, come for me, show me that you can follow instructions so this doesn’t have to happen again.”
Wanda moaned and her back arched, your thumb continuing to work at her clit until the tenseness in her body snapped and she let out a strangled cry as she came on your thigh.
You were quick to leave her nipple and put your arm behind her, supporting her weight as her hips slowed, and you kept working at her clit slowly until her hips stopped completely and her body was relaxed.
She was panting heavily and her head had rested on your shoulder. You chuckled airily and kissed the side of her face, “You did so well, pretty girl, I’m so proud of you.”
Wanda smiled at your praises and mumbled out a ‘thank you’.
You knew you had to give her a break before going at it again, so you let her slump against you as your fingers danced along her spine and you continue to whisper praises in her ear.
Once she’d calmed down she pushed herself off of you and tried to settle into bed.
“What are you doing?” You asked, a single eyebrow raised.
“I’m sleepy,” She said simply and looked up at you.
You tutted and shook your head, “Oh, no, baby. I was serious, I’m not done with you. Your ass is going to be real tender tomorrow morning.”
2K notes · View notes
the-passenger-if · 3 years
Note
one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)
combining it with
How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.
also
some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?
and
ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?
Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD
Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.
Long angsty scenarios under the cut.
“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”
Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.
“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”
Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.
“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.
He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.
“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”
He bites his lower lip, staring at her.
“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”
Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.
“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.
Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.
“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.
“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.
“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.
That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”
“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.
“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”
“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.
“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.
Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.
The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”
“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.
“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”
“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.
Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.
A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.
---
There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.
It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.
The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.
“I know you’re awake.”
“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.
“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.
“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.
“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”
“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”
“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”
He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.
“If you want to cry—“
“Screw off.”
“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”
Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.
The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”
Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”
“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”
“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.
“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.
---
One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.
The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.
They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.
“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.
“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.
“Do you have another one?”
She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.
Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.
She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”
“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.
The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.
They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.
Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.
“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?
---
Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…
Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.
“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.
They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.
Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…
The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.
“Ahh!”
“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”
“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”
“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.
“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.
Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”
“No, we can’t.”
“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”
Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.
Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”
“Are they ok?” somebody asks.
“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”
Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.
“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”
Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.
Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.
“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”
Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”
Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”
Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.
229 notes · View notes
svchengss · 3 years
Text
two halves | l.mh
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PAIRING. mark lee x reader
GENRE. fluff, heavy angst
WARNINGS. major character death, grief
WORD COUNT. 2.4k
SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss
A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this
// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D
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white walls, white room.
mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.
THE REALIZATION.
the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.
then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?
“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.
this can’t be real.
mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.
oh my god. no, this is real.
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mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.
“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.
“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?
“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.
you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.
with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.
mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.
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the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.
you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.
as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.
holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.
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“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.
“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.
“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.
“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.
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the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.
in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.
the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.
the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.
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“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.
you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.
you should give him a chance. live up a little.
yes, you should.
getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?
typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.
jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)
tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.
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an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.
you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.
you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.
alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.
156 notes · View notes
actualsaii · 3 years
Text
the bet
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Word count: 15k
Genre: smut, comedy, university AU
Summary:  You lost a bet and now it’s time to face the consequences. Aka when you lose and now you have to get a tattoo.
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140211
I'm reposting this one in case it's more comfortable for the readers to use tumblr instead of AO3 :) 
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“I can’t believe they made me do it,” you murmured under your nose as you passed the street, knowing that your friends still sat in the car parked in the lot across the street with eyes pinned on your nervous figure. The closer you got to the two-story building, the stronger the crippling anxiety inside of you grew, causing your inners to shake under the heavy consequences of your Thursday night’s escapade that culminated into your worst nightmare.
Yes, everything started two nights ago in a shabby university bar that you grew so fond of during the past two years of your studies. It was always packed whether it was a school night or not, full of freshmen and also seniors, from time to time even postgraduate students that seemed to be only a myth to you as you’ve almost never met one outside the classes. However, neither of that mattered that night as you successfully finished your last exam and decided to hit the streets with your two best friends that carefully prepared the night to its tiniest details. Conspiracy was the first word that popped in your mind as the night continued to unfold her secrets, although it was quickly erased with the fifth shot of tequila after which you simply found yourself walking straight to the bar with one and only thing your friends managed to set your mind on.
The hot bartender, also a member of mythical postgraduate group, was your main target even though he was currently busy with lining the glasses of RedBull next to each other while smaller shot cups full of golden liquid, you somewhere in the back of your mind recalled was probably Jägermeister, balanced on the tips of the bigger glasses under. Each of his move was precise, yet you knew this wasn’t the first Jäger-train he had built. The man worked at this bar ever since you could remember - and you also recalled the moment he stepped into your first class of Forensic psychology, looking completely different than you saw him the previous night (which was your first time visiting the bar when you were a freshman) in the club. Just then one of your friends told you he was a postgraduate student who worked at the bar and also taught some classes because of his final research paper. And now he was here again, his longish black hair carefully slicked back, exposing the undercut that made him look like a bad boy. His eyes momentarily flickered up from his work and once they laid on you, smirk flashed through his features and he straightened his posture, done with what he was doing.
“Look who we have here on a school night. Isn’t it a little bit too late for you to be out, ___?” he tilted his head to the side, never allowing the smile to disappear from his handsome features. He was famous for many things, but the nickname he used really preceded his name - Worldwide Handsome.
“Kim Seokjin, nice and friendly as always. Not that it should concern you, but I’m successfully done with all of my exams; so tonight, I’m celebrating. And I’m also on mission,” you leaned closer to him, almost knocking the train made of multiple glasses of alcohol, however you couldn’t care less. There was only one thing on your mind - and you know your friends were watching you somewhere from the booth in the back of the bar. At least they tried because your mind wasn’t the only one clouded by alcohol and a stupid bet you nodded to extremely fast and without giving it a thought or two first.
“So, mission it is tonight. Anyway, congratulations to wrapping up the term. Now, is there something I can do for you? Because, as you can see, it’s Thursday night, and the place is already bursting. Also, my masterpiece is ready for the show,” he said, reaching for the empty shot cup, ready to put the train on move. Your eyes flickered from his to the said masterpiece and you chuckled. Of course, there was something he could do for you but you didn’t want to burst it out loud just like that, not when the place was crowded and you felt countless eyes pinned on you because you occupied the spot by the bar for longer than acceptable.
But then again, you were on the mission and that was more important than some impatient freshmen that expected to put their hands on one of the glasses of Jägerbomb Seokjin has just put on the move. He gently nudged the first shot sitting on the rim of the glass and watched with his eyes full of excitement how the following shot cups fell down like a domino. People around you cheered loudly and suddenly they started grabbing glasses one after another until there was just one left. In a moment you decided to snatch it for yourself, your fingers met with another long and slender ones, covered in black ink and shiny silver rings. Looking up, you realized the crowd of people was gone, scattered all over the place and dance floor while only a few people remained lingering around the bar area. And the man, who was about to steal the drink you set your eyes on, was now staring at you with a smirk that mirrored in his deep and dark eyes. Long strands of his wavy blonde hair fell into his face but he quickly pushed them back, yet he took an advantage of the moment of surprise and snatched the drink before you had enough time to say something.
“Too late, love,” he shrugged and quickly disappeared in the crowd of people, only his blonde hair shining like a beacon, eventually disappearing as well. You turned to Seokjin with lips formed in a shape of a small ‘o’, still processing what has just happened. The bartender smirked and started lining another train of glasses on the surface of the bar, this time with a different type of drink on his mind.
“What was that? Who was that guy?” you asked, momentarily confused but you quickly shook it off your shoulders like an invisible layer of dust. You had to succeed with your mission, some blonde guy stealing the drink you wanted for yourself was out of the question at the moment.
“That was Jeon Jungkook, no one you should care about. Now, what can I offer you, ___? Or are you going to just levitate around until you are brave enough to spill the tea? Because one of your friends is peeking from the booth like a chicken hidden in the bush. What is it that you want?” with those words, he leaned closer over the bar surface and you felt his hot breath hitting your face. And even though your senses were already covered by the heavy sheet made out of tequila and god knew what else, you still felt cigarettes and scotch in his breath, the favorite combination of his when he was working.
You chewed on your lower lip while the wheels in the back of your mind spun like crazy, contemplating whether to come out with your plan or just kept playing your little game of a spy on the mission - even though Kim Seokjin could see straight through you as if you were a thin piece of a transparent paper. So, with a heavy sigh, you smashed your palms against the bar in a dramatic gesture, looking him straight into his eyes. If someone was looking at you, and you were sure there was at least one person watching you besides your friends, they must have thought you were some kind of Seokjin’s crazy fangirl. Which wouldn’t be surprising since the man was quite famous at the university.
“I need Jimin’s number.”
“Oh my god.”
“I’m serious, Seokjin. I need Jimin’s number otherwise I’m in a very big trouble. You have to save my ass,” you basically begged him, now almost laying on the bar as you leaned closer to him. The black-haired bartender only shook his head no and gave you a look somewhere between ‘I like you, you are my friend, but I can’t help you’ and ‘someone please just kill me already before I strangle this girl first’.
“I’m sorry but if you want Jimin number, you have to ask yourself. And since I know the number is not for you, you should tell your friend to man the hell up and ask him herself. He doesn’t bite, you know. Well, at least I think he doesn’t,” he shook his head again and handed you a shot of tequila he managed to pour you while he was talking. Small pout formed on your lips and you tried really hard to pull out the most innocent look on your face, but such a witchcraft had none effect on Kim Seokjin.
“You don’t understand - I promised my friend I would get the number for her. We placed a bet and if I lose�� Seokjin, I can’t lose! Of my fucking god, I can’t lose this one. That would be the end of me.”
Something in his face shifted and now he looked genuinely interested in your little mission. A tiny spark of hope lit up in your chest when his eyes softened and he turned to you again.
“What’s the bet about?”
You felt the heat creeping into your cheeks each second of standing by the bar, your eyes now pinned on your hands still placed on its surface. The shot laid untouched in front of you even though you felt your mouth watering just by watching it. And although the level of alcohol in your bloodstream was already dangerously high, you reached out for it and downed the shot in one gulp. Just in case you needed some more courage.
“If I don’t get Jimin’s number tonight, I will have to get a tattoo by the end of the week. So, please, you have to save my ass, Seokjin. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want that tattoo, I’ve wanted it for some time already, but I’m still not sure and—“
“You got to be kidding me, ___. This is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,” the almost caring look in his face was quickly replaced by his notorious smug smirk and you knew you were fucked for the night. There was no way he was about to give you Jimin’s number, and walking around the bar, asking random strangers for Park Jimin’s number was out of question.
“I will never forget your betrayal, Kim Seokjin. I will never forget how you turned your back on me. And if you come to me asking for help, I will repay you the same,” your index finger touched his chest and while you were sure you looked dangerous and almost and vengeful, Seokjin just chuckled and sent you one of his precious flying kisses.
“Duly noted, sweetheart. Don’t forget to send me a photo of your new tattoo. I will be waiting.”
And just like that, with his words still echoing through your mind, you showed him your tongue and waltzed back to the table where your friends were sitting.
Of course, without Park Jimin’s number.
And the threat of getting a tattoo dangerously hanging above your head.
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“I can’t believe they made me do it.”
It was Saturday morning and the betrayal of Kim Seokjin and the following cheering sounds of your friends still rang through your mind like an annoying sound of the alarm clock set on the phone. You weren’t about to get away with new pledges and promises of getting Park Jimin’s number because your friends simply weren’t about to let you. No, a deal was a deal and now that you lost the bet, you had to get that tattoo from the artist in a parlor downtown. It was a new one and judging by what Sunmi told you a few days ago, they only opened the salon three months ago. However, the number of followers on social network sites grew higher and higher each day so you and your friends agreed it was a good place to get your first tattoo.
Although you weren’t so sure now that you were crossing the street with a paper cup of coffee in your hands. It was an olive branch from your friends when they picked you up at the dorms early in the morning, proposing the breakfast at your favorite café near the university’s main campus. At least something to ease your mind before taking such a huge step forward.
You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder one last time, checking if those two creatures that came straight from the hell still sat in the car parked in the lot. And of course, they were still there, sending you thumbs up as if to give you a courage to step inside and get that goddamn tattoo. Thinking about that, it was all your fault because you were talking about getting one for a while, so it was only natural your friends took advantage of your big mouth and used it as a weapon against you. Although, you had to admit the smoothness they turned the bet into.
“Why am I even friends with you?” you muttered under your nose and took a sip of the coffee before you reached for the doorknob and pressed it, opening the door with a sound of ring bell accompanying your gesture. You peeked inside - and your inners immediately turned upside down with the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes. Not to mention you almost dropped the paper cup with coffee.
The studio itself looked neat and clean, shiny almost as each piece of furniture and accessory seemed brand new. Right opposite the front door sat a massive black desk with an office chair and a laptop placed on the top. But besides the PC, there was a small plant and an opened sketchbook with a picture you couldn’t see properly because you stood too far away. Not that you wanted to peek inside, not really. The wall behind the table was pitch black with a few modern art pieces and shelves full of books standing there. The remaining three walls were covered in various pieces of paper showing different tattoo motives that were apparently free for customers to choose. But that wasn’t what knocked the air out of your lungs and almost made you change your decision with backing the hell out of the studio, no. What made you almost squeal were two men half hidden behind the paravan that covered the tattooing area from the common area with two black leather sofas and a small coffee table. Even though you couldn’t see their faces properly, you exactly knew who they were. And the fact that one of them was indirectly responsible for you getting in this quite unfortunate situation made your blood boil.
“Park Jimin?”
Both of them immediately snapped in your direction while the said man rolled down his shirt and patted the blonde’s shoulder with a grateful smile curling the corners of his lips up. The blonde one only nodded but once his eyes met yours, there was something wicked mirroring behind his irises - and you were quickly reminded of the Thursday’s night and the talk you had with Seokjin after he successfully made the Jäger-train work. The blonde man was the one who stole your drink. The one who ever so shamelessly snatched it right out of your hands and walked away as if nothing had happened. You clearly remembered the wave of drunken rage that almost swept you off your feet the night it happened - the drink was supposed to be yours, not his. Either way, that fact only added to the moment of surprise you went through the second you realized the tattoo artist was no one else but the blonde thief with arms covered in ink.
“Oh, hi? You are the one from Seokjin’s Forensic Psychology class, right? ___? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked and at that moment, you felt like the dumbest dumbass walking the planet earth. What were you doing here? Oh, yes. The lost bet and the punishment you had to accept according to the terms of the deal. However, that wasn’t something you could come clean about since it would make you look like an… idiot. Complete idiot. So, instead of giving him an answer, your eyes flickered to the direction of the blonde tattoo artists who was now in the process of getting rid of the black latex gloves, throwing them into a trash bin. And as if he felt the weight of your eyes heaving him down, he looked at you with a slight hint of smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. He too seemed to be interested in your answer.
“Yep, that’s me. And to answer your question - I’m here to get a tattoo. I guess that’s what tattoo salons are for?” you tilted your head to the side and gave both males your best smile without being nervous about it.
“Do you have an appointment?” the blonde asked and approached the table where the sketchbook and other notebooks laid. As soon as his question sunk in the air filling the room, you cleared your throat and realized that, perhaps, you should have called beforehand, although this whole situation came into an existence during your Thursday night’s pre-game when you were already intoxicated and so determined to get Jimin’s number no matter what consequences might come out in case you simply failed.
Exactly like you did.
And it brought you here.
Silence fell over the room and for a split second, your brain came up with an idea of asking Jimin for his number and immediately backing away from the previous plan, but then, on the other hand, you weren’t about to chicken out of your punishment. You were too proud to do so.
“No, I don’t think so,” you smiled again, wishing for the mother earth to swallow you and spit you out on the other side of the world since the weight of the look in their eyes grew heavier and heavier each second that passed. They must have thought you were an idiot waltzing into a tattoo salon without an appointment on Saturday morning. Because who would have done that? No one but a psychology student who lost the bet and was now facing its consequences.
“Well, then I guess I will just leave you two alone. Lucky you, Jungkook was supposed to have a day off since it’s Saturday, but as I know him, he wouldn’t say no to a nice young lady, would he?” Jimin smirked and before Jungkook had the opportunity to throw the notebook in his direction, the brown-haired guy grabbed his jacket and disappeared from the salon at the speed of light.
And that made you feel bit anxious because right at the moment, it was just you and the tattoo artist Jungkook who managed to steal your drink, which, for some reason, couldn’t let you cold. The small and tiny voice in the back of your mind told you he must have been a member of the mythical postgraduate students’ group as well, but you weren’t stupid to voice your question out loud. You were just frozen in one place with lips forming a shape of a small ‘o’, unable to put together a rather coherent sentence to explain how you got into such a situation. Not that he should know each detail, but then again, he was the artist and according to Jimin’s words, he was supposed to have a day off until you came, and, well, obviously changed his plans.
Again, according to Jimin’s words.
“If you have a day off, I can come another time. Or I can book an appointment and—“
“It’s ____, right? I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you. Anyway, it’s fine. Jimin wasn’t on my list either when he came banging on the door early in the morning. One more tattoo wouldn’t kill me, really. I don’t have much to do, anyway,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and it genuinely surprised you how quickly he agreed on something that wasn’t on his schedule, therefore wasn’t supposed to happen. Honestly, you expected him to throw you out of the salon with the same sassy smirk and comment he addressed you with the night you met him at the bar. But nothing like that happened and you suddenly felt the inner storm gaining the momentum, throwing you off balance easily. And maybe, that was the reason you kept standing in one spot with lips still half-parted, staring at the young man standing in front of you with a smile plastered over his features. The smile first seemed to be innocent, reaching his eyes but mirroring something not so innocent any longer as the question slipped his lips. “Did you have fun with your friends?”
Wheezing noise came out of you and he raised his brows in unspoken question.
“I’d rather not talk about that night, really,” you rolled your eyes and bit on your inner cheek as the memory of the night came to you as a wrecking ball.
“Had too much to drink? You should be glad I managed to put my hands on the drink before you did then,” his innocent smile quickly turned into a smug one, reminding you of the way Seokjin basically laughed in your face when he found out about the bet. And since the bartender seemed to be familiar with the blonde tattoo artists, there was this one certain question that popped on your mind like a red light. Was it possible Seokjin told Jungkook about the bet? Did he out you?
No, Seokjin wouldn’t do that. He might have not helped you with getting Jimin’s number, but he certainly wouldn’t do something like blabbering about the bet to his friends who had nothing to do with that. Until now.
“About that - it was my drink, I had my eyes on that first,” you murmured but couldn’t help when the smile tugged on the corner of your lips. Fighting about something so trivial like a drink wasn’t really your thing, yet, for some reason you felt like this business needed to be taken care of.
“Then you should have been faster, love. Now, tell me about that tattoo of yours you want to get. Do you have something on your mind or am I free to come up with a design?” he asked, quickly shifting into his artist mode. He wasn’t really curious about the reason you ended up in his studio, nor he blamed you for barging in like Jimin did in the morning. He simply wanted to start to work, that was all. And you had to admit, it once again stole the wind from under your wings and left you standing there frozen in one place with lips parted but no words leaving them. A wave of admiration towards the young man that dedicated his free time to grace the skin of other people woke up inside of you and brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.
As the question settled in, your mind was suddenly blank like a fresh canvas, not a simple idea crossing it. Your loss of words made him chuckle before he turned to his table and reached for yet another sketchbook laying there. The sound of pages flipping filled the room, accompanied by Jungkook’s soft humming until he found what he was looking for.
“What do you think about this? It’s a free design I made a few days ago but I was too busy to put in on the wall. It looks like something that might suit you. Of course, it’s just my opinion,” with those words he handed you the sketchbook opened on a page with the design he had on mind for you. And you had to admit, it was beautiful. A simple line of flowers tangled together, nothing too exaggerating, quite the right opposite. However, you couldn’t quite grasp the concept of place where he wanted to put it.
“It looks really beautiful, and now I will probably sound too stupid, but where do you want to put it?” you asked, genuinely interested in his answer. Of course, he must have had an idea of where to place it once he was working on it. Your question brought a smile to his face as he came closer and gently grabbed the sketchbook from your hands. He put it back on the table while his right hand remained cuffing your left wrist.
“Here, around your wrist like a bracelet while the rest of the tattoo will continue to the back of your hand. Exactly here,” his fingers traced a delicate way from your wrist to the back of your hand, leaving a burning trace behind. Breath almost hitched in your throat when you realized how close he got to you without you realizing it, however, you quickly collected yourself and fixed your posture, looking into his dark eyes. “It’s your first tattoo and I believe I don’t have to tell you how important it is for you to choose the right place. Consider this a friendly opinion of mine. It would really suit you, ___.”
Just as he finished his little speech, his touch left your hand, yet the burning sensation remained lingering over the surface of your skin.
“That sounds like a really lovely idea,” you murmured as you brought your hand closer to your face, examining the place he traced with his fingers just seconds ago. As much as you weren’t excited about the idea of getting a tattoo this fast, although you’ve always wanted one, you started changing your mind in a snap of fingers. And whether it was the picture you really liked or Jungkook’s aura that was only hard to resist, you didn’t know. What you were sure about was the one and only thing - you weren’t about to back away from this decision. Not anymore.
You were surprised by yourself and the sudden discovery you missed the way Jungkook chuckled and shook his head over your strange behavior.
“Are you sure about that? Because I don’t really want you to chase me down the university halls in case you don’t like it anymore, you know? Tattoo is mostly a permanent thing and let me tell you, it’s really painful if you want to get rid of that. Not to mention it’s almost twice as expensive. Think about it, love,” it almost sounded like he tried to change your mind, and honestly, you felt like a child getting a lecture. Which you didn’t like at all.
“Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here in the first place if I wasn’t. I’ve wanted a tattoo for a very long time, I just didn’t give it a proper thought - as of what to get and where to place it. I was hoping that since you are a pro—you could help me out with that. Which you did, so…” you shrugged, giving him a look full of confidence. At least, you hoped you did. And as to seal your words, you took a step closer to him with a smile gracing your features. “So, can we do it today?”
Smirk flashed through his features and mirrored in his eyes.
“Of course, love.”
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Jungkook put everything into motion rather smoothly and you had to admire the way he basically danced around the salon while he prepared everything he was about to need for your tattoo. From time to time, your eyes flickered to the already prepared design laying on the small table near the tattooing chair you were aiming for. Excitement rushed through your bloodstream just when you imagined the art on your hand. Funny, how everything changed in a snap of fingers and your annoyed mood was quickly replaced by the excitement in the form of butterflies fluttering in your tummy.
“Do you mind if I play some music?” he asked with his back turned to you as he did some last preparations for your tattoo.
“Not at all. It’s your place, play whatever you want,” you shook your head and shrugged down the leather jacket you were wearing. The room was hot and you shouldn’t be wearing it anyway, so you took it off and climbed into the chair, waiting rather impatiently for the blonde artist to be done with his little preparations. The soft tunes of hip-hop music filled the air and you had to smile. For some reason, even though you didn’t know him at all, the music suited Jungkook very much. It went along the aura his persona gave off, almost hand in hand.
“What is that? I’ve never heard this song,” you asked curiously as you made yourself comfortable in the chair, leaning against the leather surface with the butterflies still playing the game of catch in your stomach. Have you really been that excited about getting that goddamn tattoo? Or was Jeon Jungkook responsible for the weird excitement you haven’t seen coming once you stepped out of your friend’s car? Such questions popped in your mind and you had to sigh in defeat as you didn’t have a single answer.
The way your question captured his attention and the way he turned to you with eyes sliding up and down your body in the tattooing chair certainly didn’t help to calm the storm inside of you.
“Do you know Jung Hoseok? He is one of the postgraduates, but other than studying, he likes to work on music. This is one of the songs he released within his mixtape a few weeks ago. It’s only on SoundCloud, so I don’t blame you for now knowing it, but you should give it a try. He is really good,” Jungkook smiled as he was apparently praising one of his good friends, reaching for the box of latex gloves to put a clean pair on. The gesture itself told you he was ready to start working on your design.
“Not only you are a mythical group everyone is talking about, but it seems like all of you have that hidden side no one knows about - well, besides Seokjin. Everyone knows he is the most handsome bartender. I guess he is the reason why the bar is still so packed. But hey, I will give that mixtape a shot. It sounds catchy,” you wondered out loud without giving your words a thought or two. Yet, it has already escaped your mouth and you couldn’t do anything about it. And when Jungkook chuckled, you only hoped he didn’t think you were a complete weirdo.
“Is that so? I’ve never heard anyone calling us a mythical group but I can see the point. It’s just we are always busy with the university and when there’s a slight chance to do whatever else than the research for doctoral thesis, we simply do what we love to do - and it differs from person to person. For me, it’s the salon and the art of tattoo. Although it mostly belongs to my older brother, every time I’m free from uni, I spend my time here,” he was open with you and it almost made your heart melt because even though he didn’t know you properly, he talked to you about the daily basis of his life as if you two were old friends. Plus, his words convinced you he didn’t think of you as a weirdo, which was definitely a very good sign. “I’m sure there’s something you love to do too.”
That made you wonder. There were many things you enjoyed doing, but suddenly, none of them came to your mind as Jungkook kept staring at you, probably waiting for the answer. Your brain worked faster than on the university entrance exam, yet the more pressure you put on that poor thing, the more alert it seemed to be.
“Honestly, I’m glad when I have a weekend off. This is my second year on the university and keeping my shit together is getting harder and harder. But well, there was this period of time when I enjoyed doing Yoga almost every day. Currently it’s just reading books and listening to music. Now you are going to think I’m one of those boring people who like to stay inside instead of partying with a large group of friends,” you decided to be honest with him because there was nothing left to lose. Also, why not being honest with someone who decided to sacrifice his own free time in spite of giving you tattoo?
“Why would I think you are boring? I love being by myself with a good book or a good movie on Netflix. However, I also like to go out with my friends from time to time. And I bet you do, too,” the teasing smirk was back on his lips, although it didn’t last long as he reached for your hand with excited sparkles dancing in his eyes. “Are you ready?”
You only nodded, watching him like a hawk when he reached for the disinfection and turned back to you with a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. And just like before, Jungkook easily slipped into his tattoo artist mode, moving around with grace and something more that made your eyes stay pinned on him rather shamelessly. He must have felt your eyes scanning him up and down when he did the magic to your hand - aka applying the disinfection and then wiping your skin gently once he was done. After that, he put some kind of gel on your skin and when you asked what he was doing, he only chuckled.
“I need to print the design on your skin. It helps with the process,” he said, not giving you a single glance as he was so drawn in each step of his job. Next time you looked down on your hand, he was pressing the paper against your skin, peeling it off after he was sure the design was completely imprinted. The picture came out blue and blurry in some places, but you knew that wasn’t an issue for someone like Jungkook. “Is it okay like that? Do you want me to move it a little?” he asked, pushing back on the chair he was sitting in for you to have space to inspect the future design of your tattoo. You brought your hand closer to your face, inspecting each detail of the pattern, internally already excited about how it was going to look once it was done and completed.
Honestly, it looked nice and somehow, you felt it suited you well. Exactly like he told you when he first showed you the design. Simple and delicate, yet somehow daring. Nonetheless, you must have been checking it for way too long as Jungkook cleared his throat and you were quickly snapped back to the reality.
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I think the place is amazing, you don’t need to move it. I can already imagine it,” you smiled without the realization Jungkook was closer to you once again, his hot breath brushing against the skin of your exposed shoulder. You weren’t going to lie here, the shivers danced down your spine crazily and your head spun a little when the scent of his musky cologne attacked your senses. How come you didn’t catch it sooner? Never mind, this wasn’t the right time nor place to be weak for the blonde artist.
Although he was hot.
Very hot.
“Okay then, let’s get this beauty done,” he smirked and you couldn’t do otherwise but mirror the excitement that was entangled within his voice. You outreached your hand for him, mentally preparing for the pain to come. Bonus points for Jungkook who let you breathe out for a while before he grabbed the tattoo machine and leaned closer to you to the point you felt his breath and cologne again. Damn, that kind of thoughts must have clouded your mind completely because you hissed when the needle first touched your skin. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch nor you moved an inch in your seat. Soon, you grew kind of used to the new sensation glazing through your skin.
“You okay?” he looked up to your eyes after a minute or two, you didn’t count. You only nodded, chewing on your inner cheeks because you couldn’t describe the weird sensation. On the scale of ‘it hurts’ to ‘it’s kind of annoying’, your feelings balanced perfectly in the middle.
“Yeah. Just can’t decide if it hurts or not. I mean, it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it was going to hurt. Am I weird?” you voiced out your thoughts with a chuckle accompanying them, hoping Jungkook would understand the message you tried to send.
“You are not weird. I’ve met countless people who couldn’t quite decipher what they felt, and to be honest with you, I’m surprised you are not squealing in pain considering the place you chose for your first tattoo is quite painful. No offense, of course. Anyway, yeah. Long time ago, me and my brother agreed this type of pain was… somehow exciting. You are expecting something great and you are willing to go such a length to get it, whilst the pain. I, personally, like that pain.”
“I can see that. Considering your arms are basically drowning in the ink. I like it,” the bold confession slipped your lips without you even realizing so. Jungkook stopped working for a split second and looked at you, eyes hazy and suddenly full of something that hasn’t been there before. And as much as you yelled at yourself internally to avoid his gaze, the other half of yourself did quite the right opposite. You started back with the growing smirk curling your lips in a teasing matter. Something inside of you enjoyed the little game that was slowly but surely getting out of control with each second that passed. If he could call you love, you could play with him in return as well.
All while keeping his eyes on yours, he started talking, the process of tattoo momentarily completely forgotten.
“Most of it is mine work, some of it my brother’s. Got my first one when I was sixteen and parents almost killed me. My brother went with me, he played the role of my legal guardian since I was still a minor. And that’s basically how this addiction started. First tattoo, drawing my own designs, getting the machine and experimenting on my own skin. I fucked up some and my brother had to cover it with another design. And I still want more,” he said, giving a special emphasis on the last word as his eyes flickered in your direction for the last time before he started working on the tattoo again. The stinging sensation grew heavier, yet you prevented yourself from yelping or flinching in your place.
Because the sensation of his burning stare caused you feel more than the process of inking your skin itself.
“That really is a sheer talent,” you murmured under your nose, still bothered with the thoughts that kept whirling in your mind like a vortex that swept everything along the way. You thought about his words again and again until a question rolled down your tongue. “Do you think I might end up wanting more too?”
He looked up to you with the long strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes. The urge to push it behind his ear was too strong and you had to resist hard not to reach out to do it. Damn, there was something about him that kept bugging you like crazy.
“I don’t know, love. You can get rid of the tattoo in a year or less. Or you can come barge in like Jimin did because you will want another one. One can never know,” he said as he reached for the paper wipes to clean the first part of the tattoo that crawled around your wrist. His touch was gentle and caring, almost as sweet as the smile that appeared on his lips when he said: “I’m going to finish the outlining and then we can take a break if you want. But I should warn you that after the break, it might hurt a little. Your skin will be triggered, so if you feel dizzy or something, let me know.”
“Now you sound like I might pass out.”
“You wouldn’t be the first one,” again, the sound of his laugh filled the room and you rolled your eyes. “But so far, you are holding really bravely. You are definitely not going to pass out.”
The next twenty minutes passed in silence between the two of you, only the soft tunes of R&B music filled the room. However, that wasn’t something that disturbed you, quite the right opposite. You managed to relax yourself, body almost melting against the chair as you let Jungkook finish outlining the tattoo. However, despite your relaxed state, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he touched you even though it was just a part of his job. Of course he had to touch you, of course he had to be careful with what he was doing.
But there was something more to it. Something more about Jeon Jungkook and the way he talked to you when he explained the story behind his tattoos. The way his eyes from time to time flickered to you and refused to leave just to hold a tiny piece of eye-contact. Not that you wanted to flatter yourself, but you did. This wasn’t only in your head - he was staring because he probably felt the same connection or how you should call it.
No, it was not connection.
Perhaps something else.
Something you would dare to call desire.
But then again, you didn’t want to flatter yourself.
But you did.
The realisation you were all hot and disturbed because of the blonde tattoo artist covered in ink felt fresh and exciting, however, you were quickly pulled out of the pool of your thoughts when he pushed back and put down the machine, getting rid of the gloves. He threw them into a trash bin and when he looked at you, there was this bunny smile gracing his features.
“Time for a little break. Do you want coffee or something? I bet the one you brought with you must be already cold,” he shook his head and got up from the seat, eyes still pinned on you. For some reason, a thought of him being able to read your thoughts momentarily flashed through your mind - and you felt stupid for even thinking about it. Of course, it was only able in those fantasy books you loved reading.
Yet, his eyes mirrored something deeper.
“Coffee, please. With milk and sugar if I can ask.”
“Of course. Everything for you, love.”
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Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said it might hurt after the break. The skin on your hand was triggered and burning, however, you were too proud to admit it was getting too painful and too unbearable. Instead, you kept biting on your inner cheek while your eyes remained on his focused face and his skillful fingers that were almost done with the tattoo. What was first a design in Jungkook’s little sketchbook was now a beautiful art gracing the skin of your hand in a very delicate way. Just when the art was done and Jungkook cleaned your skin, he put on a transparent tape over it and gave you yet another bunny smile.
“And, we are done,” he pushed away from you and got rid of the latex gloves, cleaning the mess around while you hopped down from the chair and checked yourself in the mirror on the wall (although you didn’t really have to since the tattoo was perfectly visible just by looking at it). As you were scanning your posture in the reflection, you also felt something else. A pair of eyes running up and down your body rather shamelessly, and you had to admit - you enjoyed the attention he was giving you.
“You are strangely silent and I’m not sure if I like it or not,” Jungkook surprised you with his words, causing you to finally turn to him with a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was already done with cleaning the space, now sitting in the tattooing chair with arms folded over his chest. Something about him was so mesmerizing you found yourself unable to look away and take a deep breath. He seemed the same, though, giving you a rather intimidating look full of undisclosed attention and something more.
“I was just checking the masterpiece you created, that’s all. It looks amazing,” your voice came out strong and steady, surprising even yourself when you finished the sentence with a smile plastered over your features. Ever since you crossed the threshold of Jungkook’s salon, you managed to boost your confidence a little over the small talk and the cup of coffee you two had together during the short break.
“Now you are exaggerating, love. Anyway, I’m glad you like it. The first one is always very special. At least in my case,” the smirk was soon replaced by the bunny smile you found too cute on a guy like Jungkook. His appearance and look probably confused many people - including you. When you saw him for the first time, you thought he was a bad boy, a player, someone who would toy with you around only to tell you off the next day. But the more you were talking to him through the session, the more convinced you grew he was actually a nice guy with passion for art and tattoos. He was a nice example of that ‘to not judge the book by its cover’ saying. Those thoughts seemed to occupy your mind for longer than you thought as Jungkook slid down the chair and came closer to you, examining the tattoo he has just given you. “And it looks very good on you. Hot and tempting, but also sweet and delicate. It’s complimenting you well, love,” this time, he put a special emphasis on the last word, catching you completely off guard. However, you quickly collected yourself as your eyes found his, already staring. Once again, he came too close to you, completely destroying the last pieces of your personal space, but for some reason, you didn’t give a damn. If he was about to play, you weren’t the one to chicken out of this. No, not really. Therefore, came the answer with a smile flashing through your features and the smirk your eyes managed to pull out.
“Thank you, I like that place too. And who knows, I might come for more once I think about it deeper,” you smiled and internally fought the urge to touch him somehow. Anyhow. The aura around him was so welcoming you almost heard it whispering those teasing words into your ear, luring you to come closer despite the fact his work was over for now. You didn’t want to be done with him, not yet. You wanted more.
And moreover, you wanted him to call you like that again.
Gosh, being attracted to someone has never been more annoying than at this very moment when you wanted nothing more but to lean closer and—
“I’d be very happy, to be honest,” he took a step back, however, the smirk remained lingering over his facial features, giving you that tiny spark of hope that the game wasn’t finished just yet. But then again, he took a step back and it was a sign for you to do the same.
“Surely I will let you know in advance next time. Now, how much do I owe you?”
“How much what?”
“How much for the tattoo, Jungkook,” you couldn’t help but put a special emphasis on his name that rolled down your tongue easier than you first expected. He seemed to be caught off guard momentarily before a soft sound of him chuckling filled the room.
“Nothing,” he shrugged as if it indeed was nothing, as if he just didn’t grace your skin with his art.
His answer made you look at him in pure shock, blinking once and twice before his answer settled and you finally understood the simple word that left his lips. Just when you were about to scold him a little, he caught you unprepared with yet another shocking answer. “I stole a drink from you, so think about this as a payback. Also, you seem to be friends with Seokjin - and Seokjin’s friends are my friends.”
It was quick and bold answer, leaving you standing there as if someone spilled a bucket of cold-ass water over your head. Your lips formed a shape of a small ‘o’ and you very probably looked like a complete idiot.
“No, I can’t let you do that. I came here on your day off; you can’t give me a tattoo for free.”
“My studio, my rules, love. However, you are right about this one,” he wondered out loud, giving you a look that you couldn’t decipher, quite the right opposite. The look and his answer made your heart beat faster, almost as if it wanted to jump straight out of your ribcage. However, you kept it cool, just casually waiting for him to tell you more.
But he didn’t.
“So?”
“So… let’s just say you owe me this one, love. Let’s settle this as a debt I can collect anytime I want. What do you think about that?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that was supposed to look innocent, yet there was nothing innocent about the mischief burning in his eyes. And despite the fact you didn’t know what did he mean by the ‘debt he could collect anytime he wanted’, the idea somehow excited you, causing the butterflies to play the game of catch in your tummy again.
“I think that’s something I can agree on.”
“Then give me your number, love,” he fetched his phone and unlocked it, handing it to you right after. You took a deep breath, typing the number and giving it back almost immediately. You didn’t dare to save the number, honestly curious about what name he was about to use for you. But as much as you tried to peek, Jungkook turned away from you, typed something down and then gave your phone a quick call so you had his number as well. Just then he put the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. Pout momentarily flashed through your features, but once he turned back to you, it was quickly replaced by a smile. At least you had his number now.
“Alright so… I’m gonna go now. Thank you for… you know, staying and working despite you were supposed to have a day off.”
“No need to thank me, pretty one. Let me tell you, it was a very well spent time. I will see you around? Perhaps on Seokjin’s anniversary party at the bar next week? Or… perhaps sooner, who knows,” the same mysterious look appeared in his face once again as he gave you a look. You tried not to pay attention to the way he ghosted after you while you collected your stuff and slid into the leather jacket. “And don’t forget to take care about the tattoo. Leave the tape on for approximately twenty-four hours and then gently wash it. And use a special lotion, here, I almost forgot,” it was impressive how quickly he snapped into his artist mode, reaching for one of the tubes standing on the shelf nearby. “Here, use this. Twice or thrice a day. If anything, call me.”
“Thank you, Jungkook. I will see you.”
“I already can’t wait, ____.”
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Perhaps Jungkook was right when he said he would see you at the bar next week. And maybe, just maybe, you expected that stupid call or debt-collecting way sooner. Because once you came home from the tattoo session at his salon, you did nothing else but stared at your phone, almost cursing yourself for being that worked up over a boy you’ve only spent a few hours with. Yet, he left you excited and expecting, although nothing came. The week was long and boring, you mostly spent it with your friends or cuddled under the blanket with Netflix and bottle of red wine. From time to time, you thought about giving him a call first, but you always declined the idea as soon as it rubbed against your mind. You didn’t want to seem desperate; you didn’t want to look like another freshmen thirsting over the postgrad student, way out of your league.
But then again.
The way he talked to you never left your memory, quite the right opposite. Your brain decided to rub it in your face until the night of Seokjin’s anniversary party came and your friends came barging into your dorm room with paper bags full of alcohol they claimed to be a ‘pre-game you needed’. Drinks were followed by loud laughter and fight over who was about to use the bathroom first - because it had the biggest mirror and the best lightning needed for a precise make-up process.
Hours later, you finally made it to the bar, wearing short black dress your friends chose for you despite your loud protest. At first, it felt a bit uncomfortable because you were used to visit the place wearing jeans or shorts with comfortable tops, but once you realized you weren’t that underdressed, it calmed your mind a little since there were girls wearing considerably less amount of clothes.
“I’m thinking about tequila, what about you?” one of your friends asked, actually not waiting for you answer as she made a straight bee line towards the bar. Not caring about people waiting, she fought her way towards the bar and ordered you a round of the drink you swore you would never drink again. Yet, some promises were made to be broken - all over again, in your case.
After you received your shot of tequila, you cheered with your friends but not for long. It literally took them ten minutes to disappear, dancing in random corners of the bar with random dudes while you tried your best to find a calmer place - which was a corridor that led to the restrooms and deeper, where the visitors of the establishment weren’t allowed.
Not that you weren’t about to have fun, not at all. You just wanted to check your phone in case… well, you were probably very much head over heels for Jeon Jungkook who didn’t give you a call or spared you a text since last Saturday, but who were you to blame him?
“Looking for someone?”
You almost jumped in your place, placing the phone back into your purse as you turned around and face Seokjin, the handsome bartender to whom this crazy party has been dedicated. Instead of his usual place behind the bar, he seemed to have a night off, enjoying the party at its fullest.
“No, not really. My friends dumped me and I wanted to check my phone, that’s all,” you shrugged with a smile on your face, crossing your arms over your chest right after. “What about you? Aren’t you having fun tonight? It’s your third anniversary as the most handsome bartender - as I heard. What are you doing here?”
Yes, what was he doing there? In the hallway that led towards the door to the supply room when he wasn’t even working? Perhaps he was seeking some lone time as well, you didn’t know.
“Oh, we are at the VIP box with the guys but we ran out of some bottles so I was just going to get them. It’s easier than fetching it from the bar. Do you mind giving me a helping hand?” he asked with a genuine smile plastered over his features. You quickly nodded, following him to the supply room. You’ve never been there before which made you feel like going on an adventure. Seokjin quickly grabbed a few bottles of whisky, handing you two of them as he collected more. You gave him a look but he left it without answer which only left you wondering just how many guys were out there, sitting in the VIP box he had mentioned before.
“So, are you enjoying the party?” you asked and followed him out of the supply room, hands full of bottles of alcohol. Seokjin scoffed but smile crawled to his lips almost immediately.
“I’d rather spend the night behind the bar. I mean, I’m not saying I’m not enjoying the night, but it feels different to be on the other side. I guess I’ve been working here for way too long to enjoy a proper night off.”
“Come on, this is your party, you should enjoy it,” you nudged him as you navigated your way through the crowd of people dancing on the floor. The VIP box was located on the second floor of the bar, way calmer spot for people who just wanted to chat and enjoy the night without bumping into already intoxicated (mostly) freshmen. Way up there was a bit challenging with high heels and your hands full, but you successfully reached the spot - and almost dropped the bottles when your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook’s. He seemed to be surprised to see you up there but he quickly adapted to the situation and offered you a smile that quickly transformed into a welcoming smirk.
You put the bottles on the table, completely ignoring the looks of others, and straightened your posture.
“Okay, so… I’ll go,” you didn’t know who did you address your words to, but Seokjin was the one to answer you almost immediately.
“Why would you go? You said your friends dumped you. Stay with us for a while and then you can go. I don’t think the others would mind,” he said, turning to the guys sitting around the table. They shrugged one after another until it came to Jimin and Jungkook. The duo seemed to welcome you way warmer than the others, deep into a conversation about a thesis that was completely out of a place.
“Come, sit, sweetheart,” Seokjin ushered you to the last vacant spot next to Jungkook who immediately moved to give you slightly more space. Not so much, though, as he shamelessly threw his arm on the couch over your arms. He didn’t touch you, but you knew the motion spoke for itself.
“So, you got dumped, huh?” he asked, leaning a bit closer so you could hear him. The music might have been a bit more silent than down there, but people still needed to sit closer to each other if they didn’t want to yell like crazy. Exactly like the rest of them since the conversation seemed to escalate into something reminding more of a fight.
“It depends on the point of view. They were pretty much smashed before we even arrived here. You know, the pre-game and stuff. So, after a shot of tequila, they disappeared to look for an adventure like Powerpuff girls. I’m not blaming them, it’s not the first time. And right now, I guess I’m talking way too much, aren’t I?” you looked at him, kind of flustered by your own behavior. The words just fell off your mouth without you thinking about them first. Perhaps you were intoxicated more than you first thought and it perfectly mirrored on the way you were talking to him - shamelessly and without filter between your brain and mouth.
“You can never talk too much, love.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. At least you are not blushing and giggling like crazy. That’s really something I’m not digging,” he shook his head and looked into your eyes but soon, the gaze dropped to the hand in your lap. He gently reached for it, his thumb recreating the lines of the tattoo that was already in the process of healing. “Seems like you didn’t forget to take care about it. Good girl,” his voice dropped a few tones lower and his breath caressed your skin. Your eyes met and your heart fluttered, the urge to lean closer was back and on the highest alert. Yet, you were still not intoxicated enough to simply lean closer, grab his collar and kiss him right here, in front of his friends. Also, the way Seokjin peeked over his shoulder to check on you to stopped you from proceeding with the plan that has just come to life in your mind.
But taking one brave step forward would harm anyone, would it?
You leaned closer to his ear, desperately fighting the way his cologne was making you go crazy, and whispered: “Exactly like you told me, Jungkook.”
His posture changed and you could swear you saw the muscles shifting under the layers of clothes he was wearing. With clenched jaw and closed eyes, it took him a while to come back to his senses. Yet, you never pulled away from him, enjoying the scent of his musky cologne taking over your senses rather quickly.
“Love, what are you doing right now?”
“What am I doing?” you asked, blinking once and giving him an innocent smile. “I’m not doing anything, Jungkook. I just let you know I’m taking care about my tattoo the way you told me to.”
“Right,” he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. Something inside of you chuckled, the silent voice telling you that indeed, the game you started to play last week was on the table once again. With those thoughts, you watched as he reached for one of the bottles on the table and turned to you with a question mirroring in his eyes. You only nodded, giving him a go to pour you a glass.
Suddenly, you completely forgot about the pre-game drinks and the round of tequila you had shortly after you’ve arrived at the establishment. You forgot how annoying the hungover might be in the morning. Also, it was too late to think about it when Jungkook handed you a glass of whisky you brought with Seokjin. It was neat, without ice cubes you would be happy for, but this had to do.
“To—is there something we should cheer to, love?” he asked, taking his previous place next to you. Dangerously close to you. You looked at the glass in your hands and let out a humming sound.
“First, we should toast to Seokjin. In the end, this is his party,” with those words, you turned to Seokjin who occasionally kept an eye on you two. He smiled and nodded, joining the toasting process without even being invited. When the others joined and their loud cheering filled the space, you turned back to Jungkook without taking a sip of the drink. “And then, perhaps, we should drink to this masterpiece you managed to create on my hand,” you smiled softly, yet the softness never reached your eyes as the game has already started. And you hated being on the losing end.
“You are the fierce one, I see. Honestly, I misjudged you a bit,” he said, downing the drink and putting the empty glass on the table. You did the same and leaned back, your nape brushing against his arm that managed to find the way around your shoulders once again.
“Now you got me interested. How did you misjudge me, Mr. Jeon?”
“Easy as that - you came to my studio visibly stressed on Saturday morning. I knew you were not sure about getting the tattoo at first, but then, something changed. As if something has clicked inside of you and you took the complete opposite direction. I liked that. I liked that a lot. But then again, I’ve already told you I’m not digging the fake shy game. You decided to be honest with me,” he shrugged, offering you a genuine smile.
And that was the moment the smile vanished from your face.
Because you weren’t completely honest with him.
You didn’t tell him the whole tattoo thing was just a bet because you didn’t manage to get Jimin’s number. Yes, that satan who now sat at the same table as you, laughing loudly on something his best friend told him. However, you weren’t mad about the bet anymore, because what came out of the consequences you had to accept was something beautiful. Something you fell in love with your eyes fell on it.
And perhaps that was the reason you decided to be honest with Jungkook once again. You took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm the inner storm that dispersed the game of catch the butterflies played in your stomach.
“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Come at me, love. Tell me whatever you want.”
“The tattoo… when I came into your salon last weekend, without having an appointment… it was a consequence of a bet I lost the night you stole my drink. I— I believe I don’t have to tell you what that bet was about, but the condition was simple. If I fail, I’m about to get a tattoo. I believe my friends used it against me because I was talking about getting one for quite a time, so… this was just a push for me,” suddenly, you weren’t so brave and bold as before. You felt shrinking in your seat, the touch of his hand on your shoulder almost burning. For some reason, you expected a storm coming but instead, your senses met with a chuckle that escaped Jungkook’s lips. He shook his head, giving you a rather unbelievable look.
“So, a bet, huh? I’m not gonna lie to you, love. You are not the first one to get a tattoo because of a bet. Although, I didn’t consider you the type to accept conditions like this. I guess I should put that on the mental list I made about you - things about ____ that keep surprising me. We should drink to that.”
You looked at him with mouth wide open, probably looking like an idiot. You were expecting a lecture but instead, he laughed in your face - and didn’t forget to flirt along the way. And although you were pretty much caught off guard, you quickly collected yourself and relaxed a little. Your little secret was out and you felt much lighter.
“May I know what was that bet about?”
“No, you may not. Now, pour us that drink.”
“Savage. I like that as well,” smirk graced his features momentarily. Your glasses were soon filled with another round of the golden liquid that easily slid down your dry throat and numbed your senses more. The good old feeling of intoxication clouded your view of world and your head spun a little, making you lean into Jungkook. The blonde didn’t seem to mind as he finished his drink and his hand other hand slid to your thigh, leaving a burning trail as it finished its journey on your exposed knee. He was silent for a moment, his eyes dropped to his hand that explored your skin, fingers dancing on the floor of your naked skin. The sparks of electricity were undeniable, making you take a deep breath.
“So? How did you decide? Do you want to get rid of that or do you want another one?” his hot breath met the sensitive skin under your ear as he leaned closer to ask you a question you didn’t see coming. Just then his hand left your knee and grabbed yours, thumb once again recreating the lines of tattoo he gave you. The way he was basically curled around you, shielding you from the outer world that seemed to go wild around you, made your breath got stuck in your throat, unable to give him a proper answer even though you were basically screaming in the back of your mind.
“I haven’t given it a thought yet, to be honest. But if I wanted another one, I’d definitely book an appointment beforehand, no worries about that.”
“Well, that’s your call to make. You have my number, so it’s going to be fairly easy,” he murmured, leaning even closer to you, not giving a damn about his friends sitting around the same table. You looked at him, taking a deep breath just to get a little bit higher on his musky cologne. And although his breath was mixed with alcohol and perhaps cigarettes as well, you so wanted to lean in and kiss those two sweet cushions. Inches of air held you from kissing each other, inches of nothing but space you hated so much. You hated it existed and you hated it prevented you from kissing the blonde tattoo artists. Although, everything you needed to do was simply to lean in and steal the kiss.
You didn’t do it.
No, you didn’t.
Because he was faster.
He crossed the last line of your personal space and pressed his lips against yours in a kiss that was sweet but tempting at the same time. You felt the tip of his tongue caressing your lower lip, wordlessly asking for a permission to slip in and give you more.
But there was this thing.
You weren’t alone. Not at all.
That was the reason you pushed back even though the kiss left you feeling like a hot mess. And before you had a chance to speak, he pressed his index finger on your lips.
“It’s time to collect my debt, love.”
“Collect how?”
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, boldly.
You felt your head spinning and you didn’t know whether it was because of the alcohol or the excitement that rolled through your body and settled in your core, sending painful pangs to your lower parts. Yet, you managed to give him an answer right away.
“Like where?”
“Like to my place.”
“Gladly.”
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The cold night outside seemed to be the only witness of your little escape from Seokjin’s party. Jungkook’s friends sitting around the table were too busy with the fiery conversation going on to notice the two of you left, and your friends were nowhere to be seen. The club was packed, so Jungkook had to hold your hand tightly when he navigated the way through the ocean of dancing bodies. You liked it; the way his fingers tangled with yours, holding tightly onto you just to be sure you wouldn’t disappear or bail from his debt-collecting plan.
When you finally got out of the club, the cold air brushed against your skin and sobered you up a little to the point you realized what you were about to do, but Jungkook didn’t seem to care as he led the way down the street, knowing exactly where to go. Just when you crossed the street and walked for a few more minutes, you realized his studio wasn’t that far away.
The studio.
Was he really taking you to his studio?
“Didn’t you say we are going to your place?” you asked, a little bit dumbfounded when he didn’t aim for the main entrance of the tattoo salon, but instead led the way to the other side of the building. Another door came to your sight and Jungkook fished the keys from the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He noticed you staring at him with furrowed brows and he chuckled.
“Of course, love. This is my place, you just haven’t seen it all, that’s it,” he said as he unlocked the door and pulled you into a dark hallway. He closed the door and locked it again, but instead of turning on the lights, his arms sneaked around your waist like a pair of snakes, pulling your body closer into his. The way he teased you back in the club was nothing compared to how he held you at the moment, his chest hot and heaving with every breath he took brushing against you, igniting the fire again. “I hope you didn’t change your mind, princess.”
“Not yet,” teasing words rolled down your tongue and were followed by loud yelp when Jungkook’s hands slid down your bum and made you jump into his arms. The dim light of the street lights that peeked inside through the windows illuminated his face and revealed the smirk curling his lips.
“Love, you know I like it when you are fierce, but even I have my boundaries. So, if you don’t want to end up with blue ass and shaking legs, I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” he murmured into your ear and turned around as if you weighed nothing. His motion only made you wrap your arms around his shoulder and bury your face into his neck. Soon, you felt him climbing the stairs to the upper floor. Curiously, you looked around only to see nothing. The room was covered in darkness, not even the street light reaching inside.
“Mhm, mysterious,” you mumbled under your breath and squinted your eyes in desperate effort to scan the place. Jungkook only chuckled and continued in his little journey until he reached one of the doors, bringing you inside. Finally, he switched the lights on and revealed the place he brought you to.
The room was coated in darkish colors and was dominated by a big bed with sheets crumpled in a messy pile. Opposite the bed was a working table with PC and a pile of sketchbooks and in one of the corners stood a guitar. The rest of the room was made by wardrobe, drawers and shelves. It was simple yet it somehow complimented his persona. For a while, you just stood there, looking around yourself to grasp a tiny detail that would tell you something more about Jungkook’s character. And just when you were about to dive in, a pair of strong arms curling around your waist from behind cut the train of your thoughts.
“Do you want something to drink?”
You turned in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck to pull him into a kiss that seemed to be the most natural thing ever. Your lips met in a sweet kiss that soon grew into something more heated, perhaps a fight for dominance you immediately lost as he pressed you closer to his chest and caressed your lower lip with his tongue. You opened your mouth, welcoming him with a silent whimper that crawled from deep inside of you. He smirked into the kiss, deepening it a little to lure another series of moans out of you. And when he pulled away with the same smirk still playing over his features, you pouted.
“That wasn’t an answer, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to drink. I want you,” you murmured and your fingers started to work on his leather jacket, slowly rolling it down his shoulders until the piece of clothing hit the floor. But you didn’t stop, the jacket wasn’t enough. Your fingers found the way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing one after another until his firm chest came to view and you took a deep breath.
“Seem like you like what you see, love,” Jungkook wondered out loud, chuckling right after. Honestly, you didn’t mind stripping you off the clothes that covered upper part of his body. He didn’t even mind when your fingers touched his burning skin and recreated the lines of tattoo covering his chest and stomach, mainly the tattoo of tiger and its paw that disappeared under the waistband of his peeking boxers. When you touched him there, his hand shot up and handcuffed your wrist. “In this household, we play the fair game,” with his words, you found yourself pressed against the wall with his lips lingering around the skin of your neck. So close, yet so far; his lips left you desiring when he didn’t kiss you there. And you were craving him. You wanted him like crazy. Your mind was clouded, your eyes seeing red as he carefully peeled your jacket off your body. Cold air mixed with his hot breath gently caressed your skin and you trembled, wishing for nothing but to be in his arms already.
“Then strip me,” surprisingly, your voice came out steady and full of confidence. Even Jungkook blinked once before the infamous smirk flashed through his features - and to your very surprise, he took a step back until the back of his knees meet the bed and he sat down. Spreading his legs while leaning back on his elbows, he teasingly clicked his tongue and you felt his eyes running up and down your body.
“Why don’t you do it yourself, love?”
Wave of heat rolled through your body and your cheeks flushed momentarily. He took the game to yet another level and for a split second, you weren’t so sure about playing. But then again, your eyes briefly flickered in his direction and you had to swallow the whimper crawling up your throat.
“Fine,” you shrugged and reached for the straps of your dress, internally cursing your friends for making you wear it. This piece of dress was too tight to allow you to wear a bra underneath, but thankfully, you could afford to wear at least panties. The process of thinking slowed down your motion which only boosted the hunger in Jungkook’s eyes. The spark of power play flashed between the two of you as you finally managed to pull one string down - and the second followed right after. You’ve never stripped in front of anybody - if you didn’t count your friends, but that was a completely different case - so you weren’t so sure about what you were doing. Yet, Jungkook seemed to like it. His hand slid to his crotch where the bulge started to form while a silent curse left his lips.
You pushed the fabric lower over your hips and let it hit the floor before you stepped out of it, kicking the high heels off your feet along the way. Shivers danced down your naked spin and you trembled a little under the weight of Jungkook’s heavy gaze. He was silent for a while, only staring at you as his tongue poked his inner cheek.
“I always knew you were a piece of art, love,” his words surprised you and brought yet another wave of blush to your cheeks. Even in the middle of a heated moment he was complimenting you like a true gentleman. His posture straightened as he sat on the bed and signaled you to come closer. “Come closer, sweetheart.”
Your body acted on autopilot, approaching him only to stop between his parted legs. He looked at you from down there, long blonde strands of hair falling into his eyes as his hot breath brushed against the soft spot under your exposed breasts. The shyness went completely away when he leaned closer and his lips traced a line of wet kisses down your stomach. And again, as if your body didn’t belong to you at all, your fingers found a way to his hair, tugging on the strands tightly when he slid down the bed and dropped to his knees to reach lower.
The tingling started in your fingertips, making them numb to the soft feeling of his hair, and continued to your inners, travelling down to your core that you already felt dripping wet. Your panties were ruined the moment Jungkook stick his tongue and copied the curve of its lacy hem. But before he could do something more, you pushed away, looking at him through your hazy eyes.
“Sit.”
Throaty laugh crawled out of his mouth, but he obediently sat back on the bed, waiting for your move. You weren’t so sure about your next move, but what you knew what that you couldn’t let him continue in his little play. You were already balancing at the edge of falling down the pit of pleasure - and honestly, you didn’t want to let go that easily. And that soon.
You waged your way between his legs only to drop to your knees like he did seconds ago, undoing his pants rather quickly. The bulge in his pants didn’t escape your attention and you found yourself licking your lips. The situation completely took over your senses and turned you into a someone who desperately sought something raw and feral.
“Must be painful, isn’t it, honey?” he was the pro in using pet names, but who said you couldn’t give him one as well? Mainly when he looked like he really enjoyed you calling him like that. However, you quickly hushed those thoughts to the corner of your mind and rolled down his pants, throwing it into the space behind you. Fierce, really. Suddenly, Jungkook was sitting in front of you only in his boxers, yet you decided to get him rid of those as well.
Wearing nothing but ink and the smug smirk on his face, you took another deep breath to calm your senses before your eyes dropped to his lower area. Tall and hard, his cock brushed against his underbelly with his red tip that called for some attention.
“It indeed was painful, thank you for your help, little one,” suddenly, his voice dropped a few tones lower and you swallowed hard, contemplating what to do next. Of course, you weren’t stupid, you knew what to do next. However, you wanted to adore the view in front of you for a little longer.
Because the naked man in front of you kicked the air out of your lungs completely.
“Well then we should do something about it, don’t you think?” you leaned closer, fingers curling around the base of his pulsing cock. Whimper escaped Jungkook’s lips and you smirked, leaning even closer to gently kiss his rosy tip.
“Love, don’t tease me,” he murmured, voice deeper than before because of the tense atmosphere lingering around. You had none of his shit as you took him in and twirled your tongue around his length, feeling the veins popping out. You gave him a few licks before diving deeper, letting his tip brush against the back of your throat. His whole body tensed under you and his hand found a way to your hair, tugging on it rather harshly. Not that you minded.
“Fuck, love, just like that—“ he threw his head back and moaned loud, causing you to swallow on purpose. You looked up at him exactly at the same moment he looked at you, eyes wide open as a deer caught in the flashlight in the middle of the road. What happened next was too fast for you to catch up but suddenly, you found yourself caged under his firm body on the bed, legs wide apart as he squeezed himself in between. His whole posture changed, the features of a soft artist were gone and replaced by something harsher and hungrier. He was hungry for lust and passion. He was hungry for you.
“It’s time for you to get rid of these,” he murmured, pushing away only to get you rid of the panties. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room and you gasped, giving him a rather offended look.
“Those might have not been my favorite one, but hey! I’m not going home completely underwear-less!”
“Who said you are going back home?” the cockiness in his voice caught you completely off guard and unprepared when he parted your legs again and slid lower, making himself comfortable in between. “Because I’m not letting you go home that soon, love,” with those words, you felt his lips burning a fiery path down your underbelly until he reached your womanhood. And then, the fireworks exploded behind your closed eyes. First, you felt his lips sparing your nether lips soft kisses, nibbling and sucking gently. Then, you felt his tongue sliding up and down your slit, lapping around to drink your juices. And last, you felt his teeth gently teasing your clit which almost pushed you towards the bliss you wanted to hold off for as long as possible.
But your plans were ruined the moment you felt one of his fingers pushing in slowly, curling inside only to leave your body twisting on his bed and in his sheets. Soon, second finger followed, stretching you oh so good while his lips never stopped the wicked dance with your clit. Moans mixed with curse words fell down your lips and your fingers tangled within his blonde locks in a desperate need for climax. And as it was slowly building inside of you, you rolled your hips against his face and now three fingers that pushed in and out in a desperately slow manner. The man exactly knew what he did to you - and he enjoyed it.
“Jungkook—I—I need to cum. Please—“ you stuttered with the last strength you found in yourself, giving him a look. He started back, looking like a hot mess between your legs with your juices glistering all over his face.
“You sound so good when you are pleading, love. Do you want it that much? Huh?” he asked, picking up the pace and you nodded, desperately rolling your hips against his hand. You felt the spasm coming, dangerously close, peeking around the corner. Chuckling sound filled the room as he dove deep into your core again, this time sucking harsher. That was the last action that finally pushed you towards the first orgasm of the night. You let go and welcomed the warm arms of the bliss, screaming and moaning while Jungkook tried his best to guide you through the paradise. The motion of his hands slowed down and he spared your inner thighs sweet kisses to calm you down a little.
It’s been a while since you experienced orgasm this hard and heavy, clouding your senses for minutes until you came back to yourself. You opened your eyes to meet Jungkook’s. He was hovering over your, his erecting poking your inner thighs only reminding you that indeed, he needed some release as well.
“You are so beautiful,” with those words, he leaned closer and gave you a taste of yourself, the kiss so sweet but so passionate at the same time. After you were sure your body recharged at least a little, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, bodies colliding together. Yet, what was sweet once again turned into something not so innocent anymore. His hips rolled against yours and you were again reminded of his pulsing shaft.
“Jungkook—“
“Yes, my love?”
“I need you. Take me. Make me yours.”
“As you wish, my love,” he spared you one last kiss before he pushed away and reached for the nightstand. You gave him a confused look before you realized he was reaching for a pack of condoms. Smile sneaked to your features as you grabbed his arm and pulled him closer again. And at that moment, it was his turn to be confused.
“You don’t need that. I’m clean and on pills so—“
“Shit, don’t tell me twice,” he was back above you, his hand crawling down to his shaft to give himself a few pumps before you felt his tip brushing against your slit. The familiar wave of heat rolled through your body and you didn’t even have enough time to collect yourself as he slowly pushed in, grunting noise accompanying his motion. Slowly, from the tip to the base he filled your pulsing walls and halted, his eyes scanning your face to find a tiny hint of discomfort. However, there was none, only a pure need to urge him to move.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” his voice came out low and hoarse with the first roll of his hips. Unable to form any coherent word or sentence, you only nodded, desperately reaching for him to hold onto something. The gentleman he was, he leaned closer, however the motion caused him to part your legs even wider until you find yourself in a position when your legs were pressed against your chest while Jungkook picked up the pace, sliding deeper and deeper with each thrust of his hips. He looked at you and despite the lust that almost sent you to another dimension, you managed to give him a smirk.
“I told you—I did yoga.”
“From now on, you are only practicing yoga with me, love,” smug smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as his thrust became harsher and you felt his tip hitting your cervix.
“You wish,” your teasing manners didn’t leave you even in such a situation, and you soon felt your legs pressed between his and yours shoulders as he decided to lean in and shut you with his own lips. The kiss was hot and heavy, broken from time to time because you the moans that crawled out of your throat. Each thrust of Jungkook’s hips became harder and deeper, which made you call out his name loudly. You felt the sensation building inside of you, slowly but surely. Clenching around him, you tried desperately to push him towards his own limit which was already visible in his hazed eyes. He was close and so were you, yet letting go still seemed out of option.
“More,” you murmured, tugging on his lock, pushing him closer and closer to the finish line. You felt him twitching harshly inside of you, first drops of precum warming your insides.
“Fuck, love, I’m so close.”
“Then cum with me,” your voice came out as a desperate cry, eyes almost tearing as you looked at him, completely lost in the view he provided you. Hot mess was nothing compared to the man towering over you, desperately chasing over the sweet release.
His hand found a way between your sweaty bodies, crawling lower until it reached your clit and gave it a few rubs which finally pushed you towards the finish line. Your body was momentarily caught in a spasm before you allowed yourself to let go, screaming and desperately digging your nails into the skin of Jungkook’s back. The second orgasm of the night felt stronger than the first one, mainly when Jungkook kept thrusting into you, still not there. And you let him. You let him overstimulate you until his body tensed and his cock twitched inside of you for the last time before the thick warm sprouts of his release coated your insides and eventually leaked out into his sheets. His body collapsed into yours and you let a whimper. The heavyweight of his relaxed body made you unable to breathe and when you tried to push him away, it didn’t work.
“Kook, baby.”
“Hmpf.”
“Jungkook.”
Nothing.
“Jeon.”
“What?”
“I can’t breathe.”
“Crybaby,” he murmured and slowly pushed away while gently pulling out of you. The sudden lack of his girth made you whimper but you soon found yourself comfortable as he rolled over and pulled you closer to his arms. His chest was firm but soft at the same time, the slight scent of his musky cologne mixed with post-sex scent lingering around. He pressed a kiss to your hair and chuckled.
“What was that?” you asked, too tired to actually look at him.
“Nothing. I just didn’t imagine collecting my debt to end up like this.”
“Now you are lying.”
“No, I’m not, love,” he shook his head and spared the crown of your hair another kiss. “I wanted to ask you on a date. Well, I guess we skipped that stage. Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Unless you want to go on date with me.”
Now that was something that made you look at him with a question mark hanging above your head. The man that has just fucked the soul out of you turned into a complete sweetie asking you out for a date. How unbelievable.
“That I’d love to, Jungkook.”
Heavy sigh left his lips. It almost looked like he was relieved.
“And you know what else I want?”
“What is that, my love?”
“Drink. I want my drink, Jungkook.”
“I swear to god… You are going to be the death of me.”
431 notes · View notes
untaemedqueen · 4 years
Text
The Price Of Love (M)
Idol!Taehyung x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader
WordCount: 8.1k
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Exes To Lovers!AU
Warnings: Marking, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Belly Worship, Fingering, Praise, Squirting, Fellatio, Degradation (Slut), Big Dick!Taehyung, Slight Dom!Taehyung, Face Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Pregnant Sex, Crying During Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Doggy Style, Spanking, Possessive!Taehyung, Cream Pie
A/N: I’ve had this in the WIPs for a few weeks and I’ve slowly but surely added to it until I got it to where I liked it. @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​ and @ppersonna​ heard all my bitching and moaning about it giving me a headache because I wanted it to feel right and real. So thanks to the forever squad for listening to my bitching! Enjoy!
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"We can't keep doing this." 
Those five words had stuck the fear of God into your boyfriend's heart as he sits across the hotel room with a glass of wine in hand. His hand falters, red wine sloshing around the glass before he widens his eyes at you.
"Excuse me? What?" He asks feebly as you avert your eyes from his handsome face. 
"This. Us. We can't keep doing this like it'll work out." You say, bile rising in your throat at the words you choke out.
He opens his mouth in shock before setting down his wine glass. "No. No! I don't understand! We're fine!" He mumbles to himself before standing up.
You shy away from his touch as he crosses the bedroom to you. Your eyes are trained on the floor as you hear him whimper. His large hand falls to your thigh and you furrow your eyebrows before standing. 
"Is it because of me spending time on the Weverse app or… I've been playing too many games with fans because I can-"
Your eyes flit to his, a cold stare shot at him cutting him off. "Kim Taehyung, I would never ask you to stop interacting with your fans. Are you kidding me?" You bark out at him before scoffing and grabbing your bag.
"Y/N. Please. There must be something I can do to make you stay. We've been together for two years… Tell me, I'll fix it." His voice is wrought with agony and you tense up hearing a sob rip through his throat.
"There's nothing to fix. We're done. I'm sorry." You tell him before grabbing your toiletries from the bathroom. You hear him shuffling behind you, sobbing and destroyed. You can't seem to turn around before glancing at him through the mirror. You've broken the most handsome man in the entire universe. 
"I'll do anything. I'll-I'll leave tour more and fly to see you. Y/N please. We can get married like we've always talked about. Anything-I'll-" You zipper up your bag before closing your eyes. You want to cry, scream, kiss him- anything and everything. But, you did this and you have to go through with it. There's nothing worse than this. And, you still have to do it. "Bye, Tae."
"Taehyung?" His name snaps him out of his memory. His fingers run through his hair before putting his temple to the van door. 
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm good." He whispers to his best friend before looking out the dark tinted window as the van drives towards their apartments. 
"You've been thinking about her lately." Jimin whispers to him before folding his arms. Jimin always loved you, you were so dear to him and he could never truly understand why you left Taehyung in that way. You ruined him. You created a shell of a man. But, you must have had your reasons. You didn't do things carelessly.
"I wonder how she is." Taehyung whispers before closing his eyes. He can still see the way you laughed, how you would dance around the kitchen making food. How your bare feet would slide across the heated tiled floor. His hand drifts over his heart before putting on his sunglasses. "You should call her." Jimin whispers quietly before pressing his plush lips into a straight line.
"Why? She wants nothing to do with me." He whispers before looking out the window as people go about their business. 
Seoul was so fast moving and Taehyung was slowly becoming a snail. The van stops at a light and he sighs as he watches the people go to and fro. It's a mere second that he catches sight of the black wrap dress he bought you. His hands press up against the window as he jumps out of his seat. 
It was you, there was no mistaking it. Or else, he's gone crazy. Your hair was its natural color again, not dyed like six months ago. You were walking with the tide of people, hand on your stomach. Taehyung gasps loudly before banging on the car window. You're pregnant?!
"Chim! Look! It's Y/N! She-She's-" Jimin jumps over his shoulder bag before looking where Taehyung is pointing.
"Where?!" He asks loudly as Taehyung turns his head towards his best friend with a smile. 
"There! At the corner!" Turning his head back, his shoulders slouch as his eyes frantically look for you.
"Tae...I don't see her." Jimin whispers before sitting back down in his seat.
"She was there! I saw her! She was…" His voice trails off before putting his hands over his face. You were pregnant.
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His apartment was cold. You used to put on the heating system for him when you knew he was coming home. You used to have dinner made with a big smile on your face. He would lather you in kisses, hug you so tightly like you would disintegrate to dust if he let you go. Throwing his bag to the floor, he mindlessly pads across the cold floor before laying down on the couch. 
"I'm going crazy." He whispers before sobbing loudly. His wavy black hair falls into his eyes as he presses his face into the couch cushion.
The couch dips and paws climb up his body before his arms encircle his dog. 
"Tan. I'm going crazy. I saw mommy today." He mumbles to his dog as he licks his tear streaked cheeks. With a breathless sigh he wipes at his running nose with the back of his hand before closing his eyes.
"I saw her. I swear to God. She looked...beautiful." He whispers as his jaw goes slack. Yeontan lays on his chest, furry face burying into his neck as he stomps his foot on the couch.
"I know what I saw. She's pregnant." He mumbles before pulling out his phone. Jimin told him to delete your number a hundred times over and you were still there. 
'My Love'
Taunting him to shame. He ignores his innermost screaming. His mind begging him not to crack open this closet filled with skeletons but he presses the call button anyway. 
His palms begin to sweat. Heart beating voraciously loud in his ears as he stares up at the ceiling. It begins to beat harder when he hears you.
"Hello?"
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"You aren't serious! You can't leave!" Taehyung begs as he chases you down the hotel corridor. He grabs your arm as you call for the elevator. You turn to him, eyes glassy with tears as you look up at him.
His nose was pink, cheeks streaked with tears of agony as he holds your shoulders. "Please. I love you. Don't leave me." He whispers, voice cracking as he begins to sob again. 
"Don't make this hard. You know how I feel about you too." You whisper before closing your eyes and begging for the elevator to hurry the fuck up.
"If you love me then don't go. Stay. I'll do anything. Please, baby. Please." His voice trails off as he rubs his thumb over your jaw line. 
"It'll be better off this way. I'm a burden and I won't have you ruining your career." You tell him before swallowing thickly. The elevator bell dings and you sigh before pulling away from him harshly. 
"Y/N." Pleading is the only way to describe his voice and you sniff gently before getting on to the elevator.
"I love you, Tae. I'm sorry." You whisper before pressing the ground floor and looking away as the doors close.
"I saw you." Taehyung's voice comes out gruffer than he means to. But, goddamn does your voice fill him with emotion.
"What?!" You say loudly and Taehyung swears he can hear glass break on your end of the phone call.
"I saw you today. When we were driving back from the airport. In that black dress." He puts his hand on his forehead before pressing his lips into a straight line.
"I thought you were in Japan." You whisper and he scoffs loudly.
"We came back a day early." He mumbles before setting Yeontan on the floor as he stands up.
"Oh, Tae. I'm so sorry but I think you're confused or-"
"Don't do that! Don't you dare do that to me! Don't make me seem like I'm fucking crazy like all the other guys do! I SAW YOU! And you're- you were- are…" He can't finish his sentence as he walks towards the large windows of his apartment. 
He stares down at the Seoul traffic as you stammer on syllables. "I should-"
"Should go? No. Don't you do this to me, Y/N!" He yells as he presses his index finger to the spotless glass. 
"I'm coming over." You say before hanging up the phone. He looks down at his phone before putting his forehead to the window.
"Oh Christ." He whispers shakily before putting his hand over his mouth.
It takes you 30 minutes to get to his apartment. 30 minutes for Taehyung to go back and forth in his living room with Yeontan on his tail. 
One arm tucked under the other as his hand presses to his mouth. He's rehearsed what he is going to say to you. He's going to look you in the eye and tell you how fucked up you made him. How absolutely soulless he's been without you. A global star turned into a mere shell because of you. Nothing has been the same. Food doesn't taste the same. And yet…
The doorbell rings and he jumps out of his skin before jogging over to the mirror. He fixes his hair, brushes his thumb over some stray eyeliner before puffing out his cheeks. 
What was he going to say again? You ring the doorbell again as Yeontan scurries over to the door. 
"Okay. You can do this...Just… Tell her." He whispers, and with a shaking hand he grips the door handle. 
Swinging the door open, you collectively gasp at one another. Taehyung's mouth opens before blinking. 
"Hi." You whisper to him as he falters backwards.
"I knew it." He mumbles before turning away from you and walking towards the couch on shaky legs. You close the door behind you before folding your arms, almost as if it's a defense mechanism. 
Taehyung turns his head to you before giving an incredulous scoff. 
"I had s-so many things I wanted to say to you." He says before his body slams onto the couch. 
You follow after him, but not before picking up Yeontan as he jumps on your leg excited. He hasn't seen you in so long and he can't help but yap happily as you kiss the top of his head. Taehyung plants his elbows on his knees as he buries his face into his hands. 
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He whispers before leaning back and letting his head loll onto the lip of the couch. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly before watching you trudge in front of him. He lets out a disbelieving laugh before looking back up at the ceiling.
"Y/N. What the fuck!" He yells before closing his eyes.
"I'm sorry." You whisper as Yeontan shifts in your arms. He chuckles to himself before slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"You're sorry? Oh. Good. Sorry." He says before sitting up quickly. You jump slightly before clearing your throat. 
"I thought it would be best if I left so you didn't have to deal with-" He holds his hand up silencing you. 
"How dare you?" He whispers before his eyes meet yours. He wants to cry, to break something. But, he can't get over how beautiful you look. 
"Y/N. How dare you do this to me." He mumbles before watching Yeontan lick your cheek. 
You step closer to him and he spreads his legs like it was normal. Like you hadn't left six months ago. Stepping inside of them, he reaches out to you before leaning forward.
"How dare you hide this from me. Like I wouldn't fight tooth and nail for you and-" He presses his hand to your growing stomach before pulling away as if he has been burnt. 
You recoil from him before turning around. You put your hand over your mouth before shaking your head.
"This was a bad idea." You mumble before setting Yeontan down on the floor. Taehyung watches you press your hand to your back before slowly standing upright. He takes a sharp inhale through his nose before jumping over the couch. 
"Don't you take my child away from me." He says quickly as he presses his back against the front door.
You whimper before closing your eyes. "You left me, knowing you were pregnant with my child?" He asks quietly, his voice creeping through the large living room as he stares at your closed eyes.
"Yes." You whisper back and he feels as if he's been shot through the heart.
"Why? Y/N how could you fucking do this to me? I loved you...I love you." His hand cups your face and it's almost frightening how comfortable it is. How at peace you feel by his touch.
"Because you're busy and you don't have time for a child or...or love." You say as his hand snakes from your cheek to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him.
"Don't you dare say what I am and what I'm not. If you gave me the choice I would have stuck by your side through everything. Your morning sickness, your tiredness, your… whatever other things pregnant people do." He finishes off in a mumble that makes a giggle break free from you as you open your eyes.
"I was scared." You tell him and he can only scoff at your words.
"You were scared...I love you, Y/N. What's there to be scared of when we're together?" He asks as his thumb brushes over your collarbone.
"Oh I don't know, your billion managers, the boys, ARMY. I could go on." You tell him as he pulls you closer. Your stomach presses against his body and he shudders at the feeling. 
"Jesus Christ." He swallows thickly before looking down at the obstruction between the both of you.
"Do you love me? Still?" He asks and your eyes look up at his as his mocha irises gleam with uncertain emotion. 
"Yes. I still love you." You say before pointing at your stomach. He snorts gently, a breathy noise his nose before grabbing your hand. 
It's almost frightening how calming you are to him. He should be pissed- furious even. But you, here in front of him like this is like a dream.
He wants the comfort of holding you in his arms back. He wants to be able to lay in bed with you on off days for hours, playing with your fingers and singing mindlessly with you.
He just wants you back in his reality. 
He wants you back in his bed.
"Come lay down with me. It's late." He says and you stay rooted in the spot as he pulls you.
"This isn't the same Tae. We aren't the same." You tell him sternly. To which he rolls his eyes before tugging you harder. 
You whine his name gently and if you didn't have his child six months and growing in your stomach, it would be like nothing has changed. The whirlwind of emotions comes to a halt inside of him as he intertwines your fingers with yours as you walk down his long hallway. 
There are so many questions he has but he didn't know if he needed the answers, to be honest. Just thinking of all the things you'd been through alone because you were trying to save him in some fucked up way sets him in a weird sort of comfort. 
He lays down before rubbing the spot next to him. "You're on my side of the bed." You tell him and he smirks before rolling over.
"I thought you'd forgotten." He says before putting his hand under his cheek. You sit down gingerly and he moves instantaneously to help you lay back like an instinct. 
"I'm okay. Don't worry. I can even open jars by myself." You say giving a fake gasp.
Tae chuckles before looking at your stomach as he lays his head in the pillow. "Having my baby is giving you super strength? You can open a jar now? Color me impressed." You laugh rolling your eyes before putting your hand on your stomach.
He sits up before taking a deep breath. "You fucked up, you realize that don't you? You took away the chance of me watching my child grow all these months." 
You sigh, the guilt eating away at you as you hold up two fingers. He raises an eyebrow before kissing the back of your hand.
"Two? Two what?" He asks as he leans closer to you. His lips drift over the skin of your arm and his eyes flutter shut at the familiar softness.
"Twins." You mumble. 
His lips stop and his eyes snap open. It begins then. A voraciously nervous laugh bubbles forth from him. "I cannot believe this." He says through laughter before burying his face into the pillow. 
You swallow nervously as he sighs loudly. "You need to promise me you aren't going anywhere again. You'll stay. We'll get married like we always wanted to and...and we'll be a family."
You take a sharp breath through your teeth as he looks at you. You nod before intertwining your fingers, "I promise." You whisper as he leans in.
"Good. I've missed you so much that I felt my world was crashing down." Taehyung mutters out before pressing his forehead to yours.
"Can I touch?" He asks before looking down at your stomach. 
"Of course you can." You reply, almost breathlessly.
He takes a sharp breath before looking at your belly. 
"Oh Jesus." He whispers before flexing his hands and fingers. His hands gently lower themselves and you watch as his eyes become glassy. 
He presses his hands to your stomach before looking down. He gives a wry laugh as tears begin to stream down his cheeks. "Wow! I mean...Wow! That's my… These are my babies." He whispers before closing his eyes.
You giggle gently as you wipe at your eyes as tears trail out of the corners and down your cheeks. 
"I have to make up for so much lost time...I-" A kick comes from your stomach and you flinch gingerly with a chuckle as it twinges your rib. He gasps gently, putting a hand to your face to make sure you're alright before putting his cheek to your stomach.
"Hi. I'm your dad. Mommy's been taking care of you because she was afraid but there's no need to be frightened. I'm here now. Daddy's here." He whispers to your stomach before lifting up your shirt. 
"Fuck." He curses as he puts his forehead to your belly. You giggle before running your fingers through his hair. You feel the guilt setting into your bones, but it comes to a heady stop at his words.
"You're huge." His voice is muffled into your skin and you gasp loudly before slapping his shoulder.
"Rude! You can say it nicer!" You chide him, making him laugh.
"You're beautiful. As always." He whispers before kissing your stomach. His lips, so warm and soft it has your eyebrows furrowing together as he crawls up the bed to lay beside you.
"I really missed you. My heart ached for you. I felt so hopeless without you." He kisses your forehead before sighing. You run your hand over his cheek before turning on your side.
"Easy. Do you need like, a pillow or like...a warm water bottle?" You nod gently and he takes the pillow from underneath his head before propping it underneath your side.
"Also this isn't England back when King Henry was alive. Who needs warm water bottles?" You quip back with a laugh.
"I need to learn what pregnant women need and want. And I have to buy all different stuff for our babies and-" You smile widely as you put your finger on his lips. 
"Do you want to know their gender?" You ask him as you run your fingers through his hair. 
"Yes! Please!" He begs as he runs his hand over your engorged skin.
"Twin girls." He chuckles to himself before sniffling. Squeezing his eyes tightly he pulls your head to his chest, letting your belly rest on his body. 
"Wow. Three to one, huh?" 
"Eh. Well more like three to seven." You tell him and he laughs loudly before nodding. "The guys are going to get so excited. Especially Jimin." 
Laying in bed with you is something Taehyung had only dreamed about the past six months. And now, here he was. 
His thumb caresses your bottom lip as you speak and exhaustion isn't a word in his vocabulary as you talk about the past six months.
"Have you been with anyone else?" Taehyung asks you and you give him an incredulous look before pointing at your stomach.
"I haven't even been with myself." You murmur out making him chuckle. His big box smile graces his face before kissing your lips gently.
"You? Have you?" You ask him as you run your fingers down his bare chest. He shivers at the contact before nodding slightly.
"Yes. The company paid a woman to...to try to get rid of my terrible thoughts. Tried to get rid of my loneliness but it couldn't be helped… I moaned your name and only yours. She felt...disgusting. Not like you at all." He whispers as his eyes look past you as if he's reliving a disturbing memory. You hum to him before kissing the birth mark on his nose.
"At least you didn't forget about me." 
"Never. I'd never forget." He tells you as he runs his hands up your stomach. With a groan you lay on your back before smiling gently at him. His eyes glance over your body before licking his lips.
You were simply glowing with his children within you. And, he wouldn't have had any sexual intentions if your nipples weren't going stiff and peaking out beneath your lacy bra and thin tank top.
"You haven't even touched yourself, you say?" He asks gently as he sits up. You hum to him and he runs his finger over your bare stomach. 
"You look beautiful. I told you, you would be divine with my children inside of you. Didn't I?" You give a snort as he runs his hands over your clothed thighs.
"Can I help you? Y'know cum?" He asks, tongue sliding over his bottom lip before smirking at you. It's the way his big eyes drink you in that you find your thighs unconsciously pressing together. 
You hadn't thought about the need for relief in all these months, if you're being honest. You were too busy being nervous and riddled with grief.
But here now. As Taehyung's hands run over your clothed thighs, you feel comfortable. You feel at ease. And, the need for relief is coming back in waves so large they could capsize a boat.
Crawling over you, he minds your stomach before bending down and kissing your lips. The kiss is filled with heated passion, the both of you pouring out your worries and the way you've missed each other for six months.
Your fingers intertwined into his soft locks as he holds himself up from your body. 
The tip of his tongue glides over your bottom lip and like an instinct your mouth opens for him. 
He groans into your mouth, a needy carnal noise of please, as his smooth wet muscle glides over yours. Tugging on his hair harder, he whines before pulling away from you.
His arms get weak and his stomach presses into yours before pulling away. The sound of his gentle laugh gets your stomach doing somersaults inside of you.
"Like trying to fuck during an obstacle course." He mumbles, earning a laugh from you. 
He taps your arms as he licks his lips and you sit up long enough for your tank top to be discarded to the floor.
"Fuck." He lowly curses as his thighs straddle yours.
He takes his time kissing over your peony scented skin, the scent taking him back years and he can't help the ball that begins to form in his throat. He could cry out, screaming seven ways to hell as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. But instead, he will enjoy this moment. He has to. You're his again.
His lips pluck at the delicate skin of your neck, leaving small patches of pink and reds in his wake. 
His hands find your breasts, squeezing them gently. He adores lace on you and now, with the added cup sizes he could quite literally say that he's in heaven. 
His hand snakes around your back before unclipping your bra with the snap of his index finger and his thumb. You hum pleased at the skill you taught him and he chuckles before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
"Look at you." He murmurs reverently as you lay back down before him.
"Be gentle." You whisper to him and he nods understanding. 
His head bows down, his black hair falling into his eyes as his lips wrap around your dark areola.
Small keens and mewls leave your lips as his hands press harder against your thighs, kneading the flesh with the tips of his fingers.
"Tae." You whine out as he locks your legs in place, squeezing his knees to keep them shut beneath him.
It's a dizzying kind of elated emotion you feel. Your hands drift over his clothed shoulders and you give an almost childish whine as you tug at the cloth. 
His mocha irises meet yours before pulling away and taking off his shirt. His lips are back onto your breast in a matter of seconds. 
Your fingernails leave small red lines over his back as he flicks at your nipple with the tip of his tongue. 
One of his hands presses to the distended side of your belly, almost as if to make sure how big you are so he doesn't hurt you.
"I fucking missed you." He mumbles as he switches his attention to your free breast. 
You can feel your arousal soaking your panties. It's been so long since you've been given this beautiful attention.
With a whimper, you tug at his hair. 
He takes a sharp breath between his teeth before narrowing his eyes at you.
"Have you forgotten how to behave, baby girl? You've forgotten who you belong to?" Taehyung asks.
The authority in his voice makes you shiver. Biting your bottom lip, you shake your head releasing his hair from your grasp.
"I wanted to be gentle with you, seeing as how you've been keeping my little girls so safe inside of you but I think you want to be punished." His voice is filled with this natural cockiness that has your chest constricting with elation.
His hands hook into the sides of your sweatpants and you meet his eyes as he presses open mouthed kisses to your stomach. 
Your gentle gasps and whimpers have his hard cock twitching and pressing into the fabric of his loose grey pants.
"I-I haven't shaved or gotten waxed…" Your voice becomes weak towards the end of your sentence and he clicks his teeth in reply.
"When have I ever cared about that? Ever?" He asks seriously. His lips peck yours before tugging down your pants.
He finds himself smirking at the sight. Small strands of arousal break and cling to your sodden lips as he throws your clothes behind him.
He hums to himself as he spreads your legs. This was akin to home for him. He was so sincerely excited to have you back but, being between your legs it's like you never left.
"You can't blow on it." You tell him quickly as his body bows down.
He picks his head up above your belly before winking at you and nodding.
His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them locked in their open place. His thumbs drift over the bottom of your belly as he watches your cunt clutch around nothingness.
You were so desperately horny now, just the hot ragged breaths you feel from him have your clit aching with need.
You couldn't see him above your stomach, which added this mysterious intrigue to what he was going to do next.
“Shit.” He whispers and you find your heart skipping a beat before his lips encircle your clit. 
He devours you as if he’s been starved of you- because he has.
He adores your moans as they crescendo in the quiet room. 
You taste sweeter than before but it’s something so familiar that it drives him insane. He finds himself moaning against you, clutching harder onto your thighs as you writhe beneath him at the sheer pleasure.
His finger prods at your entrance as he continues to lavish upon you. You can feel this invisible band inside of you tightening so quickly, it’s been so long since you’ve felt him adore you in this way. 
Entering his finger inside of you, he pulls away just to watch your eyebrows furrow from the amazing feeling.
“God, you’re so fucking tight.” He whispers as he kisses the skin of your stomach. 
His long finger curls inside of you, expertly knowing where the soft patch of nerves is that will help you become undone beneath him. 
“Tae!” You whine as your hips lift off of the bed. 
He loves that. The way you moan his name in your heated ecstasy. He wants more of it, to hear you blubber and call his name out to the heavens. 
Sliding another finger in, his lips leave your stomach before encircling your clit once more. 
Your hands grip at the sheets beside you, white knuckling them completely. 
Your heartbeat is in your ears as you grind your needy cunt to his face. 
“Good girl.” He praises you as your eyes flutter closed.
You can feel the pleasure coming to a head as he rears back before spitting on your soaked lips. 
Shivering at the feeling, your head lolls back as you lose yourself.
He can feel your pussy throbbing and pulsing around his fingers. He goads you on with quick licks with the tip of his tongue. 
His name falls like a prayer from your lips before gasping. White spots begin to dot the inside of your eyelids and you can barely hold on to your sanity.
“Cum for me, baby girl.” He whispers against you.
Curling his fingers fast inside of you, the breath is pulled from your lungs as you let out a low whine.
You orgasm with a muddled mind, moaning his name so loudly he can practically feel it reverberating through his body. Your cum squirts onto his hand as your back bows off of the bed.
Ears ringing with white noise, you can barely hear his praises as his hand roams over your stomach. 
“God, you’re so perfect.” He says as he pulls out of you slowly. 
He waits patiently as you come down from your high, kissing at your hardened nipples. 
You feel almost drunk and sluggish off of his pleasure.
Opening your eyes, you’re met with the handsome man's smirk. 
“It’s been too long since you’ve squirted on me.” He whispers earning a laugh from you as he pulls down his grey pants. 
For you, it’s been too long since you’ve seen his impressive length. It’s award worthy, seriously. You can feel your mouth watering as you take his hardened length into your sights. The soft rose veins that pepper it in its entirety and the mushroom tip that’s reddened with need, call out to you as you sit up.
He hums nervously as he sits up on his knees. 
“I don’t know, baby. Can you?” He asks as you spread your legs to accommodate your stomach. 
You wrinkle your nose at his sweetness as he runs his hand over your cheek.
“I’ll be fine.” You say as you inch your way closer to him.
“I don’t know. I mean, you might be uncomf-” His concern is cut off with a sharp groan as your hand wraps around the long length of his cock. 
He whimpers as his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. Your free hand finds its way beneath your stomach as your head bows down. 
His hand scrambles to grab the headboard of his bed as you kiss over his shaft. 
“Agh, fuck.” He mutters as his eyes close.
Your lips are so warm and soft against him, precum begins to pool at his slit before lazily traipsing down. You lick up the precum, moaning at the distant yet familiar taste. 
He takes a sharp breath through his teeth as your tongue swirls over the tip. 
“Fuck, just like that baby girl.” He curses as his free hand combs through your hair. 
He can remember all the times you’ve become sloppy on his cock. He adored seeing your spit and his precum streaming down your chin and neck, his cock twitches and throbs in your mouth at the memory. 
He grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail before lolling his head back as your mouth sheathes his cock.
Whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you stroke as you fuck his cock into your mouth.
“Yeah, fuck. You like that, don’t you? Like my cock in your slut mouth.” He groans out.
Your eyes stare at his small abs as they contort and press to his taut skin. His golden skin shines in the moonlight as a sheen of sweat envelops him. 
Working your mouth faster on him, you can’t help but feel a new wave of arousal sweep through you as he moans your name. 
His hips thrust toward your mouth as he lets your hair go. His hand clutches to the back of your head as he looks down at you.
“Open up, baby girl. Swallow my cock.” He commands and you whimper in reply.
Swallowing around him, he moans loudly as your nose nestles to his pubic bone.
“Jesus.” He whines as he pulls your head down faster on him.
Your gag reflex springs into action as he begins to fuck your throat. Tears make your eyes glassy before rolling down your cheeks. 
Spit and precum stream down your chin as his eyes stay locked on yours.
“You’re so fucking messy. Look at you, shit.” He moans through clenched teeth as he holds you down on his cock.
You moan at his words, your clit rubbing against his bedsheets at his brutal actions. 
Letting go of the headboard of his bed, his hand lands on your stomach as he holds you close to him.
His long, thick cock begins to thicken and throb as you run your tongue over his length with every thrust.
“Fuck! Y/N! Such a little slut! Your mouth feels so good on my cock. Taking it so well.” He whines out as you grip on to his thighs.
You can tell he’s close by the way he whimpers and drives the head of his cock deeper into your throat.
“Swallow my cum and show me how fucking sorry you are that you took my girls away from me.” He seathes out through his teeth as his eyes squeeze shut.
His face painted in pure bliss is something you could never get out of your head and seeing it above you now is just heaven on Earth.
He whimpers your name over and over, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he presses your head down deeper on his cock. 
“Yes! Fuck!” He whines as his ropes of cum meet your throat.
You swallow around him, relishing in the warm, salty taste. His body shakes through the pleasure, thighs twitching rapidly. 
He lets out a long groan, the sound going straight to your core as he pulls out of your mouth slowly.
Tapping his index finger to your cheek, you open your mouth for him as he angles your chin up to see inside your mouth, “Good girl, baby.” He praises you before kissing your forehead. 
He stands off of the bed with shaky legs before sighing happily. 
You lay back down as his hands hook behind your knees. You giggle as he pulls your body down to the edge of the bed. He kisses over your stomach as your feet find their place on the floor. 
He stands up tall before you as he spreads your legs.
“You see how horny I am for you?” He asks playfully as his cock still stands to attention. 
His hands palm at your breasts, squeezing and rolling them gently. He runs his cock through your sodden lips, coating the underside of his cock in your arousal.
“Your pussy feels so warm.” He murmurs out in wonder before prodding at your entrance.
You bite your bottom lip in anticipation. Running his hands over your sides, he enters his cock into you slowly. 
Both of your mouths drop open in tandem at the amazing feeling. 
“Fuck.” You whine as his head lolls back. 
He buries himself to the hilt before stilling inside of you, letting you get adjusted to his large length. 
“You look so beautiful underneath me.” He says. Your heart flutters at his words, cunt clutching around his length. 
He smiles down at you. The smile holding all these elated emotions he could never put into words. He was so amazed to even be here with you again.
Your body was soaked in the white moonlight as it shines through the large bay windows of his bedroom. He has never seen anything more beautiful. 
“You’re never leaving again. Do you understand me?” He asks seriously as he pulls out of you slowly.
“Yes.” You reply earnestly.
He snaps his hips back into you, the bulbous head of his cock dragging against your plush walls. Your hands grip at the edge of the bed as you moan his name loudly. 
He sets a relentless pace as his hands caress your stomach. 
“Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good. So tight and wet for me.” He groans. 
“Tae!” You whimper as your fingers pinch and roll your nipples between your fingertips.
All of his thrusts held a deeper meaning and he could practically cry out of happiness to be here with you in this very minute. 
Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, his hands grip harder at your stomach as he snaps his hips harder against you.
“You are mine, forever.” Each word is punctuated with a harsh thrust that has your head swimming in white-hot pleasure.
His hand reaches the apex of your thighs, he rubs furious circles on your clit as your back bows off of the bed.
Your legs spread wider for him as he moans your name. 
You were like putty in his hands, becoming boneless and sinking into his large bed as he fucks you so well. 
He could feel your pussy begin to throb and pulse around him, begging for release around him.
He moans pleased at how easy it is to please you, “Cum on my cock, baby. I feel it. Shit.” He moans.
With just a few more thrusts, you were cumming on his cock. You were blubbering and moaning for him with gentle whines as he fucks you through your orgasm. 
“Christ! You got so tight!” He says before pulling out of you. 
Whimpering at the loss, your eyes find his as he gives a breathless smile. 
He twirls his finger and you understand what he wants immediately. He helps you turn over, grabbing a pillow for you and putting it underneath your stomach. 
“You okay?” He asks as he positions himself at your entrance once more. 
“Yeah.” You whisper.
His lips kiss over your back as he thrusts himself back inside you. 
Your voice was hoarse and dry from the moans and pleasure you’ve been receiving but you can’t help but want more as his hands grip at your hips. 
He pulls you back fervently on his cock as he kisses over your shoulder. 
It’s the familiar scent of peony that makes him feel home. It drives him closer to the edge as he holds you so close to him.
Standing back up, he feels his throat tightening as the globes of your ass jiggle with each thrust. 
“Goddamn.” He moans before spanking you hard. 
You gasp loudly, burying your face into the sheets as your skin smarts from his slap. 
He groans at the noise you make before slapping your ass again.
“You look so fucking good with a red ass.” He moans out before slapping your other cheek. 
You can feel your arousal dripping down his balls and onto your thighs below. It’s almost animalistic how he drives himself inside of you.
“Cum for me one more time.” He says as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck. 
Your moans and loud whimpers earn praise from him as he snakes his arm around your stomach and to the apex of your thighs. 
“Your clit is so fucking swollen.” He mumbles as he begins to rub circles.
“Taehy-ung!” You cry out as your body begins to shake from the over-stimulation.
“Take it like the good girl you are. C’mon.” He mumbles as he presses his chest to your back. 
“I-I can’t!” You whine but your body betrays you as your legs spread wider for him, bucking back against him with the little strength you have left.
“Yes, you can. Your pregnant cunt is wetting my cock so nicely, baby girl. You’re dying to cum again on my big cock.” He mumbles in your ear. 
His index finger and thumb pinch your clit gently and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes as he grips at your hip harder.
You can hear his ragged breaths in your ear, setting your nerve ending aflame.
“You’re going to cum on my cock again like a good girl. Show me how much your slut cunt missed me.” He murmurs before kissing the shell of your ear. 
The invisible band begins to tighten within you again for the third time and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling. 
“Your pregnant pussy is dripping all over my cock, begging to put another load into your needy cunt. You love my cock, don’t you?” He seethes as he fucks you quicker.
“Y-Yes!” You whine as he pinches your clit again. 
“That’s right. You missed my cock inside your pretty little pussy.” He lifts himself off of your back and the sound of skin slapping skin resounds through the stagnant air. 
“God!” He groans out and you can feel his cock thickening inside of you.
“Tae! Fuck, I’m-I’m cumming!” 
“That’s a good girl. Cum for me.” He moans.
Your thighs quake and your face buries into the sheets as you orgasm for the third time. With muffled ears you can hear him cursing behind you, bucking into you with all of his strength as he drives himself to his release.
“I love you so fucking much. Tell me who this pregnant pussy belongs to.” He says as he grips onto your hips.
“You, only you.” You whimper out, voice riddled with exhaustion. 
“That’s right.” 
He groans loudly as he reaches his end, “God, I’m cumming baby! Fuck!” 
Ropes of cum lather the walls of your pussy as his head lolls back. Weakly you look behind you as you watch him bask in the glory. He was so handsome and so perfect. How could you ever have left him?
You can see a few tears fall from his eyes as he lifts his head back up and he wipes them away quickly before pulling out of you. He hums to himself as your pussy begins to cream with his cum. 
He helps you lay back down and you find your eyes becoming heavy with exhaustion. 
“I love you.” He whispers as he fixes the pillow beneath your head.
“I love you too.” You whisper as your eyes become lidded.
Wiping his cock with his briefs, he looks you over before sighing loudly. 
“Don’t...Don’t leave me again. Please.” He begs your sleeping form before laying down beside you. 
He lays his head on your stomach before looking out the window as the moon shines brightly into the room. Pressing his lips to your distended skin, his eyes squeeze shut. 
His forehead presses to your stomach as he sighs. Now that he has you back, you can’t leave again. You make him feel whole, you make him complete.
He isn’t Kim Taehyung without you, and he hopes you know that.
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It took him a long time to fall asleep last night. 
He stayed up just looking at you, putting his hand on his children. He cried a few times too. He was so happy, so confused, so completely in love with you.
Waking up this morning, he groans as his hand reaches for your belly only to be met with cold sheets. 
His eyebrows furrow before he’s jumping up in bed.
“Babe?! Y/N?!” He calls loudly as his neck cranes to look into the en suite bathroom. 
It was dark and he found this overwhelming darkness creeping into his heart. 
“Babe!” He yells as he jumps out of bed. 
His throat constricts and he feels lightheaded as he throws on his pajama pants. 
“Y/N!” He screams at the top of his lungs as he rushes out of the bedroom and down the hallway. 
His eyes fill with tears and his hand clutches at his heart.
“No!” He yells as he skids into the empty living room. 
“Fuck!” He bawls before leaning against the kitchen island. He buries his face into his hands as he sobs loudly.
“No.” He cries feebly. His legs feel weak and he has to will himself to stand up.
The front door opens with laughs and Taehyung’s head springs up as you enter with Jimin and Jeongguk behind you.
The room falls silent as he shoves off of the island counter and barrels towards you.
He disregards his closest friends as he pulls you into a hug. You hug him back, as his body shakes in your arms.
“Hey.” You whisper concerned as he buries his face into your hair.
“Where’d you go? I was…” He trails off as he sobs quietly.
“I went to get breakfast. You didn’t have anything in the apartment because you went on tour. I ran into Chim and Gukkie in the lobby.” You say as you pull away.
His hand caresses your cheek as you wipe his tears from his face.
“I thought you left...left me.” He hiccups before pulling you back to his chest. You close your eyes as you hold him as tightly as you can.
“I’m not going anywhere Tae.” You whisper as he looks over wearily at his two friends. 
Their eyes show sorrow for him and he closes his eyes tightly before relishing in your hug. 
You stayed like this for a few minutes until his heart had calmed down. Pulling away, his hand lands on your belly before kissing your temple.
“I’m sorry. I should have left a note.” You say as he brushes some hair behind your ear. 
He swallows nervously before nodding. 
“She remembers what you like to eat too!” Guk says holding up the take away bag, trying to ease the tension in the room.
Taehyung gives him a small smile before pulling you over to the dining room table. 
Sitting down, you put the food out onto the table before kissing your boyfriend's cheek. 
“I’m not going anywhere.” You tell him as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. 
He nods before looking at you. It would take time to get back to normal again, but there was no place he’d rather be than to be here with you. 
“That’s the price of love though, isn’t it?” Jimin asks as he opens up his rice.
The both of you look at him as he begins to smile.
“The price of love?” Your boyfriend asks as he wraps his arm around your waist.
Chim nods with a hum, “You need to lose someone to remind you how much you missed them. That’s the price of love.” 
Tae thinks on it for a second before rubbing your belly. 
“I guess you’re right, just don’t make me pay the price again.” He tells you sternly, earning a smile from you as you cuddle into his side. 
He smirks gently before kissing your forehead. 
“I’ve paid my price time and time again.” He mumbles before grabbing his breakfast.
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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years
Note
34 with Red Danny? for the writing prompts?
CW: Beating someone with a handgun, implied noncon references, murder, forced to watch, intimate/sadistic whumper, whumper pov, Bram is a bad man
Bram keeps the hazards flashing on the little car, parked off the side of the road, waiting. Nate he sends into the woods to hide, knowing his black-haired prince will do exactly as he's told, now that he's come back to bring him to a new home, forgiven him for Ashley's death.
Bram will always forgive his true love anything.
The new puppy, though, he still has locked in the trunk. Can't take chances, even if the puppy's bloodied and beaten and hasn't eaten in two days.
The trees around them are tall, blocking out the early morning sun painting the sky with deep reds against the underside of clouds rolling in. It'll rain, Bram thinks, pretty soon.
As if answering the thought, a car with its headlights on becomes visible, and Bram waves his arms, his hair slightly long. He knows he doesn't look as strong as he is.
It helps to make him seem harmless.
The man driving the car slows down, puts on his own hazards, pulls over. The gun Bram has tucked into his waistband under his shirt shifts against his lower back as he smiles and steps forwards, friendly as can be.
There's a muffled thump inside the trunk of the car, but really it's just fine if the puppy wakes up. He wants him to see this, anyway.
The man steps out of the car once he comes to a stop, giving a wave in return. "Havin' some car trouble?" He has an accent, and Bram tries to commit it to memory. If that's how they speak here, well, he'll have to match it. He'll need to sound the same to slide under the radar.
"Just a bit. Engine issues." He gives a shrug. "I don't suppose you have jumper cables?"
"Sure do. I'll move my car up some, help you out." The man's eyes move and he pauses, caught by something. Bram looks over his shoulder and realizes there's a bloodied handprint on the back windshield he'd completely forgotten to wash.
The new puppy had nearly twisted himself free, just once, and Bram had pulled his arm back down but a few seconds to late. Shit, he'd meant to stop by a store and get some paper towels for that.
Oh, well.
He moves faster than the man does, but only just.
He's nearly made it back into his car when the butt of Bram's gun slams down onto his head, crumpling him to the ground, and Bram laughs, high-pitched hyena barking, hitting him again and again and again.
There's so much blood.
Ashley would love this.
He's still breathing when Bram drags him by one arm off the gravel that lines the side of the road, into the patchy grass, deeper, nearly to the trees. Breathing, and making funny little moaning sounds, trying to form words.
He leaves him there, wondering if he'll try to crawl, how far he'll get. Popping the trunk to the car, he drags the new puppy out, cursing and spitting at him through his own t-shirt tied around his head to form a crude gag. His hands are taped together, and he stumbles more than walks, grunting at the pain he must feel in his hips, deep up into his back.
Bram grins when the new puppy sees the second car and his eyes widen, surprise and fear and fury dancing over what can be seen of his expression. He tries to jerk himself free again, and all of it is beautiful, and flickers of misery and horror trace Bram's skin.
A banquet. A fucking feast.
All his for the eating.
When they make it to where he left the bleeding man, who has managed to crawl only about a foot towards the woods, Bram pushes the new puppy to his knees, rakes a finger back through wavy red hair crusted with blood, enjoys the way pushing on the wounds makes the puppy whimper and whine.
"I need a new car," Bram says, casually, as though they're strolling a used car lot and not staring at a bleeding, barely-breathing stranger on the ground.
The new puppy makes a sound of dismay and tries to push himself back to his feet, but Bram sweeps them out from under him, sending him crashing back onto his knees, pushing hard with one hand to hold him right where he is.
Nate appears out of the trees like a ghost, standing there, only staring down. His expression is blank, perfectly empty, beautifully devoid of anything but resigned acceptance.
"We have a long way to go," Bram says, almost cheerfully, rubbing at the new puppy's bony shoulder with one thumb, feeling him shudder in disgust underneath his hand. "And now we have a new car to go there with."
Nate swallows, and nods. He looks back towards the road, and not at the new puppy or the man on the ground.
Bram levels the handgun - he stole that from a body, too, at some point, though he can't remember which one or quite when it happened - and fires.
The man on the ground jerks once and goes still. The new puppy lets out a breathy scream behind his gag, tears running down to soak into the soft heathered fabric, blue eyes wide and terrified, looking to Nate.
Nate doesn't look. He doesn't jump. He won't meet the new puppy's eyes.
He just turns and walks back up the slight rise to the cars, leaning in and picking up the bags of supplies Bram keeps, moving them from one car back to the new one, without saying a single word.
"You're going to be so good for me," Bram murmurs, and the new puppy whines, lets out muffled sobs, and slumps forwards, tears falling to soak into the dirt.
Bram keeps him on his knees next to the body until Nate returns to tell them the car is loaded, and it's time to go.
-
@tiddiroki , @whump-it, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @finder-of-rings, @burtlederp, @whumpywhumper, @18-toe-beans, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @swordkallya, @astrobly, @moose-teeth, @evermetnotforgotten, @whumpiary,  @lave-whump @raigash @whump-tr0pes| @wildfaewhump @doveotions
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certifiedskywalker · 3 years
Text
Another Memory - Kylo Ren
forthesakeofstarwars said: If you’re still taking requests, can I send one in for Kylo Ren, in which the reader is dating him and she’s sent out on a solo mission one day? She gets injured on the field and hides it from Kylo when she returns, but he finds out anyway. He was upset at first that she didn’t tell him about it but than he takes care of her and helps her wound to heal.
AN: Guess who got too carried away? Me, this guy, I did!
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Magma burns. That’s what it felt like. Searing, beyond white-hot pain that shot through your lower abdomen with each aching step. You heard once of Mustafar, the lava rivers and lakes that dotted the scorched landscape like bright death traps. Within your stomach, you imagined a crater, akin to the magma pools of that dastardly planet, spewing concentrated bolts of flame towards the rest of your internal organs.
“Commander.”
Through a grimace, you dipped your head at the two lower ranking officers that acknowledged your presence with a salute. Unbeknownst to them, you were in near-debilitating pain with your right shoulder pressed against the wall of the ship’s hallway for balance. As they passed by, you stood up right and muscled through scream of hurt in your stomach.
“As you were,” you snapped back. They walked off with a little more speed than when they came upon you. You took a small bit of pride in their fear before pressing your shoulder back against the wall. Out of all of the First Order’s officials, you were the least frightening. The towering Captain Phasma and the biting voice of General Hux made even you, a being well trained in the darker arts of the Force, shake from time to time. And that was not even considering the short-fuse temper of Kylo Ren.
At the thought of him, you felt yourself weaken. A groan slipped out past your lips and you pressed yourself impossibly closer to the wall for support. If he saw you like this you would never live it down. Another wave of searing pain rushed through your abdomen, this time mingled with a twinge of shame. Eyes squeezed shut, you gritted your teeth and forced the stinging tears behind your eyes to stay there. 
If only he had stayed. Stayed in your shared bed, tangled with you in sheets until the comm stopped blinking and whirring for his attention. How you wished he had ignored the device, the mission he was given, and stayed with his hands on you. But then your comm had started to blink, coaxing you out from under him and the messed sheets. You should have stayed instead of going to...you couldn’t even recall the name of the planet now.
Overwhelmed by the pain left behind by the blaster bolt that had charged through your gut, your brain worried itself with keeping you on your feet rather than the destination of your mission. Despite the battle scar and trip to the infirmary that danced in your near-future, you had been successful. The insurrection and rebels that had amassed against the Order had been dealt with. Though they had not gone down without a fight.
Seemingly triggered by the memory of battle, your wound screamed with a heat painful enough to pull the air from your lungs. With a gasp, your knees hit the cool, tile floor of the ship. Black spots dotted the edges of your vision as you fought to stay conscious. Focusing on deep breaths, you reached out to the Force for aid, for the power to push your body through the pain; a skill you had learned from Luke Skywalker so long ago. 
You fell back on his old lessons only when the situation was dire. Passing out in the hallway, surrounded by inferior officers was truly dire.
“Commander?”
With an aimless, wandering hand, you pushed the concerned officer to the side.
“Leave me,” you hissed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm of breaths. The Force seemed to recoil from you as a fresh and overwhelming wave of pain cut through your abdomen. Your vision began to blur. “No, no, no.”
Murmurs from the officers and troopers around you muddled in your ears. Each comment or quip sank into a thick mud, unheard by you. Harsh and growing shallow, your breathing was the one sound you could hear clearly. A haphazard, unsteady beat of air down your throat and into your chest. Desperate to stay lucid, you closed your eyes and willed your body to stay aware. Get to your feet, your mind echoed the mantra, get to your feet.
You pushed up on your knees and, shaking slight, moved to stand. With a careful step forward, you opened your eyes. Bright lights installed in the ceiling shown in a staggering display. Darkness swept over your vision, but you weren’t sure if you shut your eyes or succumbed to the agonizing heat in your stomach. Your knees impacted the hard floor once more and, in a brief moment of audible clarity, you heard the gasps of those surrounding you.
Then you heard a deeper, familiar voice; one laced with worry. “Y/N?!”
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Grey walls and bright lights enveloped you when you opened your eyes. Steady and mildly annoying, a beeping vitals monitor served as a reminder that you were alive. That, and the dull aching all over your body. Most of the lingering pain was concentrated in your abdomen and your knees. You didn’t dare to look at the mess whatever medical droid made of your wound; there would be a scar, no matter the make and model of machine. 
“What happened?”
You let your head fall to the side, your gaze shifting from the unentertaining ceiling to your right. Sat beside you, masked in a shadow of his own creation, was Kylo Ren. The soulless visor of his helmet was fixed on your face. In any other position, the intensity of his hidden gaze would have set you aflame. Now, you felt only shame. 
“Tell me.”
“The mission was a success,” you replied curtly, ignoring the truth he wanted.
“That’s not what I meant.” Coldness edged Kylo’s tone, mostly due to the modulator embedded in his helmet mouth piece. You hated how it changed his voice and, despite it’s mechanic alteration, how it was still so wonderfully familiar to you.
“The dissidents fought back,” you explained, “nothing I’m not used to.”
“You’re hurt.”
You can’t help but laugh at how plainly he makes the statement. “I hadn’t noticed.”
At your mocking tone, Kylo stands. You watch as he moves towards the entrance to your infirmary room and forces the door shut. The metal screeches against the floor until the two sliding doors meet in the metal. Kylo’s arm falls as he turns to face you once more.
A biting comment makes its way to the tip of your tongue. Just as you’re about to spit it out, Kylo moves again. He brings his hands up towards his helmet and you hear the telltale hiss of release as he lifts the metal from his head. The comment dies between you lips the moment you catch a glimpse of his skin. A breath of relief takes it place.
Without hesitation, and slight shame momentarily forgotten, you meet Kylo’s eyes. Dark, wavy strands of hair covered part of his face, nearly obscuring the med-tape covering the gnash the scavenger girl carved into his cheek. Against the uncomfortably thin sheet of your infirmary cot, your finger itched to traced the lines of his face, the curve of his jaw. The want became nearly unbearable when he moved to stand by your bedside once more.
“You should have come to me when you returned.” Without the modulator and helmet, Kylo’s deep voice was smoother. Akin to fine granules of sand running through your fingers rather than grating gravel. You felt comforted by the sound, even if he was chastising you. 
“I thought you were still out on your own mission.”
“You couldn’t sense me? My presence on the ship?”
When you shook your head in reply, Kylo frowned. Disappointment flashed in his brown eyes but did not linger; nor did the downwards turn of his lips. Quickly, Kylo collected himself and plastered on that flat expression you assumed he wore often beneath the mask. He took a step closer to your bedside, resting his heavy helmet on the end near your feet.
“I could sense you,” he said lowly, “your pain. How you were thinking of me.” Heat rose to your cheeks, spreading to every inch of your skin. The warmth further dulled the ache in your abdomen. Your attention was fully focused on him now. 
“Is that why you came to my rescue? You were a little late if you…” You trailed off as Kylo’s leather-gloved hand brushed against your cheek. A shaking breath rattled in your chest and you closed your eyes for a long moment to search after your words in the dark. 
“I’ll never be late for you again,” he murmured when you opened your eyes again. Sincerity dripped from his tone, filled the dark depths of his eyes. His hand brushed against your hairline at you stared up at him, covered fingertips dancing down along your jaw. “Never again.”
“And I’ll find you the moment I return from missions.”
Kylo nodded and you saw the slightest up tilt in the left corner of his mouth. An almost smile. The same expression he would often give you when you came to him, ready to share a bed for the night. If you were lucky, you would get a half smile, large enough to bring out the lines in his face; the evidence you had that he could be happy.
“Good,” he replied, pulling his hand away. 
You watched as he plucked the glove from his fingers, exposing the skin of his palm to you when he reached out. Picked up by the vitals monitor was the quickened pace of your heart as Kylo tugged the thin sheets tucked around you down from where they rested. Cool air kissed the skin of your nearly naked chest and then your bare abdomen. You wanted to recoil, hide from him despite knowing he had seen you far more exposed before.
His eyes held your gaze before you lost your nerve. Daringly, you glanced down at your abdomen and eyed the dark red, inflamed scar left behind by the blaster bolt. The medical droids had done well, better than the last time. There was still ample room for improvement. Displeased, you looked away, back up at Kylo.
“Another memory,” you mused bitterly, “though yours is far more handsome.”
Kylo let out an amused huff before studying your new scar. He leaned forward and let his bare fingertips traced the outer edges of the puckered mark. His touch did not hurt but the vitals monitor alerted you both to an uptick in heart rate again. In response to his fingers, your body tensed; wound itself tight like bacta-gauze around a bleeding limb. Enjoying the sight of your body reacting so precisely to his touch, you saw Kylo wore another almost smile. 
“Do you want it gone?” 
His question catches you off guard. Is he serious? When he moves his eyes from your wound to meet yours once more, you see that he is. The almost smile is dropped, his brows are relaxed, and he reads as unconcerned.
“Yes,” you say, more curious to see what he means than to actually have the scar removed. Kylo nods and moves his bare hands away from your abdomen, though just barely. Palm facing down towards your wound, Kylo’s hand hovers. A moment passses and there is nothing but the want to make a teasing comment.
Then you feel it. It, the Force, is warm as it licks at your wound. Licking is the only way you can describe the feeling though it is not wet. Only warm, comforting, and moving. You gasp and your eyes lift to study Kylo’s face. His eyes are closed, lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he focuses all his energy, the Force, on your scar. 
You feel a shift in the air as he lifts his hand. When he opens his eyes, he does not meet your gaze but peer at the scar. Or where the scar was. A few inches above your hip, fresh, unharmed and unblemished skin was shown. It was as if you had never been struck at all. The dull pain that gripped your torso was relieved like a dark cloud being brushed from the sky.
Speechless, you barely react when Kylo leans further down. His hair falls around his face as he pressed his warm lips to the spot where the scar had been. The ends of his hair tickle your skin but you’re still too enthralled to twitch at the sensation. Kylo turns his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are knowing and his mouth quirks up into the slightest of half smiles.
“Beautiful.” 
Falling from his lips, the word thrusts you back into another memory; this one not embodied or immortalized in a scar. You are back, caught in the morning before you mission, with your skin pressed against Kylo’s. Sheets are scattered around you and he is kissing your bare shoulder when he says it over and over again, punctuated by a new kiss each time.
“Beautiful.”
When he says it for a second time, you’re back in the present, in the infirmary. Kylo has straightened his posture and is reaching for his helmet now. You move, sit up in your cot and throw a hand out to his. Your fingers wrap around his wrist and gently squeeze.
The touch brings his eyes to yours. His mouth is open slightly, shallow breaths coming and going as he waits for you to say something. To say what he is thinking, wanting, too.
“Stay.”
Wordlessly, Kylo moves to meet you in the middle. Before you can react, his lips find yours and you are falling back against the cot. You are lost in him again and more than enjoying the feeling of it. When you feel his bare hand against the skin of your waist, you smile into the searing kiss. What another good memory this will make.
297 notes · View notes
dancingazaleas · 3 years
Text
𖨆. 07 / all for us
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summary: it feels as if god is blessing you personally when levi decides to spare you. but as the day goes on, you can’t help but notice things and ask questions, some of which you didn’t ask.
note: why was this chapter so hard to write
taglist: @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @ascybous @messyhairday-me @stupid-stinky @saturnalya @megumitodoroki @kouyume @quacksonlover81 @gipumar
word count: +3.0k
warnings/notes: cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of drinking and driving, vomiting, mentions of blood, mentions of ocd, the reader is confused
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LEVI ackerman knew he wasn't a good person. he knew from the moment he watched his uncle slaughter a man in front of him at the age of eight.
levi knew the moment he killed a man for theft. he knew the moment people would cower before him in highschool when he'd walk through the halls. he knew the moment he was sucking the smoke from a cigarette into his mouth.
he knew the moment he found himself fighting police officers. he knew the moment he was pushed against the hood of a car with his hands cuffed behind his back.
he knew the moment when erwin smith sat down in front of him with no emotion written on his face. the moment when erwin said he knew levi had done it, but he would be defending him either way. the moment when levi disobeyed the oath as he spat out his testimony. the moment the gavel was slammed down along with the verdict of 'not guilty'. the moment he stepped into the sunshine, erwin's hand in his, for the first time in months, knowing damn well he didn't deserve it.
but levi didn't care, he never did. the world he was born into was cruel. he had to fight for his place at the top, for his food, for his clothes, for everything. if no one cared about him, then why should he care for others.
but as he stares down at you trembling from fear on the floor, he can't help but think that he's incorrect.
"please don't hurt me again," you plead in a whisper, tilting your head to the floor.
levi only sighs, walking in and shutting the door behind him. he crouches in front of you, hand now awkwardly stroking your head.
"what happened," he asks, and it's something that comes as a shock to you. you were slightly prepared for a beating.
you snap your head up to look at him in shock.
"what have you got in your hands," he points at the scrapbook held to your chest.
"oh!" you fumble to show him, "i saw this earlier... i wanted to look but i didn't think you'd allowed me. i'm sorry, please don't hurt me."
"i would've let you, i barely look at this thing anymore. can you tell me what happened now," he scoffs at the front cover of the scrapbook.
"when i was going to put it back, a book on the shelf fell. then another book on the top shelf fell off, so i used the lower shelves as a ladder. as you can see, it didn't work," you look ashamed while you gesturing towards the shelf.
he just huffs, "go sit on the couch. we can look through that book after i clean."
you obey and watch levi heft the bookshelf back onto its legs. his fists clench as he looks down at the pile of books surrounding his feet.
hastily, levi's picking up the books by the color and placing them back onto the shelf. when he's finished, he takes a step back to look at it. he's unsatisfied, instead more frustrated as he starts to take all of the books off of the second bookshelf he has.
but in the middle of taking the books off the shelf, he twitches and taps the book against the wood five times. he's putting the books back onto the shelf, going back to the other bookshelf and taking all the books off of that.
you stare in absolute bewilderment. the shelves had looked perfect and identical to you, not to mention clean. as he's in the midst of taking the books off the shelf, he taps the book against the wood again.
and with that, he's placing it all back onto the shelf again. he sighs in relief after he's checked everything, finally trotting to you and plopping down next to you on the loveseat.
nervously, you scoot closer to him in order for you both to be able to see the scrapbook. he watches you flip it open past his baby picture, instead turning to the page that showed his mother feeding him.
"that's my mom, kuchel," he gently rubs his finger on the photograph, "think i was around a year at this point."
humming, you flip to the next page. when you realize it's the picture of levi at his mother's funeral, you try to flip the page but levi stops you.
a sigh, he explains, "my mother always had a very weak immune system, according to my uncle. because of where we lived, we both ended up getting deathly ill and we were too weak to get any help. i had to watch her die and wait for someone to come check up on us."
"i'm assuming it was your uncle," you tilt your head.
"it was. he took me in afterwards, gave me food and a shower. he even taught me how to hold a knife and how to fight for future reference. he had some work to do while i would fight for food."
you point to the one of levi standing in front of a building. to which he replies with, "first day of kindergarten. my mother was still alive back then so she decided to take the picture."
he turns the page for you, a relieved look in his eyes at he stares at the next photograph. it's a picture of levi, in high school, wearing a tux while standing next to another man with a bubbly girl holding onto levi as she holds up a peace sign.
the boy, who's also wearing a tux, has ice blue eyes and wavy dirty blonde hair that obviously hasn't been styled. he's got a gentle smile on his face while he looks at both the girl and levi, someone who levi was obviously fond of.
the girl has dark red hair in low and loose ponytails with freckles painting her tan cheeks. her eyes shine an emerald green along with her pearly white teeth.
"that's... isabel and farlan. met them in 8th grade, and we were at junior prom in this. farlan took me as his date while isabel went stag. i'm glad i still have this picture."
you resist the urge to fight back the joke of his type in men, instead asking, "are you not friends anymore?"
levi stays quiet for a moment, "they died in a horrible car crash a month later. some asshole decided to drink and drive while driving a semi. rear ended them at 45 miles per hour and killed them on impact. isabel was slouching in her seat and farlan was hunched over the wheel apparently. it was gruesome."
"i.... i'm so sorry," you reluctantly touch his arm.
he waves his free hand up and down in dismissal, despite hurt he actually was, "it's fine. happened years ago."
he turns the next page in order to distract himself from the sheer awkwardness that bathes the room. the next picture is of him, around the age of 24, standing in the sunlight while he smiles softly to the sky.
"erwin was my attorney, before he became a prosecutor, when i went to jail. he proved me not guilty and this was the picture he managed to take of me right after we left the courthouse. it was the first time i'd seen the sun without handcuffs on in months," he huffs with slight annoyance at the memory, something that surprises you just a bit.
"why'd you get arrested?"
"nothing you need to worry about," telling you would only make you fear him more. and that would be a pain to deal with.
the next page after is blank, along with the rest that follow.
"i stopped because i thought it was stupid," he crosses his arms, nudging the back of the scrapbook with his knee.
"i don't think it's stupid," you shake your head, fingertips gently tracing the grainy and textured paper.
"why's that?"
"well," you smile a bit while your mind wonders to the scrapbook pieck made you one year for your birthday, "it shows you the good memories that you might've missed as the time passed. reminds you that there's something in every little small day. it helps you keep the memory alive, even if some of it is upsetting, and i think it shows how much you've changed as a person."
levi stares at you, slightly flustered at your words as you relook at the photographs with gentle hands.
he stands up, "i just remembered the tea." ah, a sound excuse. if only levi had made tea.
you watch as he seems to rush out of the room, something you shrug off while gently putting the scrapbook on levi's desk and laying back down on the couch. you play another movie on the television that hangs on the wall, perking up when levi walks back into the room with a tray. it holds finger sandwiches and some lettuce mixed with some fruit in a small bowl along with tea. cracked sunflower seeds sit on a small plate on the side, and you feel yourself droll when you realize at there's cheese, lettuce, and ham on your sandwich.
levi places it on your lap, simply nodding at your kind, "thank you, levi."
he doesn't answer and just goes back to his desk, while you chew quietly.
it stays that way until erwin comes home.
————
it isn't until your eyes are fluttering open that you realize you've fallen asleep. you flinch at the sight of erwin's face close to your's, but slowly relax when he pulls away.
"i'm sorry, i didn't think my kiss would wake you," he places a loving hand on your head.
"'s fine, probably needed to get up anyway," you reply groggily while rubbing an eye, "how long have i been asleep for?"
"levi said since a little bit after lunch. it's only three o'clock at the moment," he sits on the edge of the couch, smiling at how you shuffle to accommodate him.
"sandwiches must've been tasty.... did you just get off work," you sigh and snuggle up under the thin blanket that's been laid on top of you while you were sleeping.
erwin lays his large hand on your cheek, which has you tense for just a moment and then relaxing.
"i got off a little while ago but i needed to run errands," a thumb strokes at the apple of your cheek, something that you disgustingly find comfort in.
"where did levi go?"
"went to make himself some tea," he chuckles with a shake of his head, "he claimed that he felt withdrawals."
you shake your head while laughing, "i doubt he said that. how was work?"
"i guess i can say it was adequate. i missed you and levi the whole day, but would often get distracted by my clients and their necessities. i'm dealing with a kidnapping case at the moment. a girl around your age named ymir was recently found by her girlfriend, historia. i can't say anything more," he pulls his hand away from you and uses it to pinch the bridge of his nose.
you feel yourself get the chills.
he's.... working on a kidnapping case.
he's prosecuting.... a kidnapper.
he's punishing someone who's doing the same thing as him. someone who took away a girl and kept her trapped for months. god knows what the man did to the girl.
and here you are, letting erwin hold your cheek and looking through an old photo album with levi.
you feel sick to your stomach, shooting up while slapping a hand to your mouth and grabbing at her's shirt.
"i'm gonna throw up," you barely are able to speak without the feeling of your food coming out of your stomach.
startled, erwin stares, "what?"
"can... need a can," you gag and lean over the edge of the couch.
erwin gets up when he realizes just what it is you're asking for, rushing across the room only for you to spill your guts out onto the floor.
it's been forever since you've thrown up, minus when levi kicked your stomach, and it has your whole body shaking. the intensity of it all has your nose dripping with blood and tears falling from your eyes, forcing you to seal your eyes closed.
"what happened here," levi sounds scared as he stands in the doorway, but before erwin can even finish his sentence levi is slamming the door behind him while he storms out.
erwin sighs with frustration, helping you scoot down the couch so he can place the trash can in front of you without the bottom being dirtied. with shaky hands, erwin's pulling all of your hair out of your face while you sob and gag into the trash.
it's ten more minutes before you're able to lay back down. blood and tears stain your face and you dazedly stare up at the ceiling.
"i'll be back with a towel and some water, levi will be back soon with an avalanche of cleaning products," erwin reassurances while he stumbles out of the door.
just as erwin leaves, levi enters. he's got a mask that covers his nose and mouth and rubber gloves that match with his cleaning apron. he's carrying a sponge, some spray, a towel, a broom/dustpan, along with some breath mints.
levi squats on all fours, scrubbing at the floor aggressively as he rides the room of the stench and the stain.
"s... sorry," you croak and levi grimaces.
he ignores you in order to keep scrubbing at the floor just as erwin rushes in with a warm towel and some water. he wipes off your blood, tears, and the mouth to rid you of your vomit. you look at him dazedly as he helps you drink the water he's given you.
levi passes a few breath mints to you when you're done drinking the water, which you eagerly take. you plop them into your mouth, sighing as you rest back against the couch cushions.
"take her to her room," levi orders erwin while spraying the spray onto the floor and couch.
erwin does so in silence, carefully carrying you to your room and laying you on the bed.
"levi won't hurt me will he...? please tell me he won't," you grit your teeth while holding onto erwin's shirt sleeve, tears welling up in your eyes.
"no, he won't. he's just scared," erwin grabs the hand on his sleeve and holds it in his own.
"of what?"
"uncleanliness. a while after he started living with me, i took him to a psychiatrist as i had noticed strange behaviors. he ended up getting diagnosed with ocd, and the psychiatrist thought it had to do with his upbringing in poverty. if things aren't a certain way or clean enough, it causes him to spiral," erwin explains carefully, trying to find the correct words and meanings as he speaks.
"doesn't that... give him more of a reason to hurt me...?" you squeeze his hand tightly and pulling it closer to you in fear.
"it doesn't. why are you insistent at how levi might hurt you," he bunches his eyebrows up in concern while scooting closer to you.
"he's done it so many times before... remember? if i say the wrong thing... i'll get slapped. if i make a mistake, he'll beat me.. i just don't want to hurt anymore," you sob hysterically, bringing your free hand up to your face to cover your eyes.
erwin stares in bewilderment. he hadn't realized just how much levi's beatings effected you. of course, they were supposed to affect you in some way, but not enough where you were terrified of making a wrong move.
"he won't hurt you unless you've deserved it, and you've done nothing in a while. he loves you," erwin stroked his thumb across your skin.
you raise your hand from your eyes to stare at him, heat swarming your face, "he does? he doesn't act like it.."
"of course he loves you," erwin smiles, "i love you as well. we'd never hurt you unless given a reason."
something about his sentence makes your head throb in pain. maybe it was the secret confusion that lingered in your head. they said they loved you, even though they kidnapped you and beat you half to death. but then again, they did provide you with things you'd mentioned to them before in order to keep you happy. they even bought a grand piano for you.
it has your heart speeding up and your body hot, bashfully looking to the side.
you loved them back didn't you? they'd treated you with such care, hadn't they? bathing you, feeding you, dressing you, and even visiting you. anytime they were around you, your heart would speed up and you'd get a weird feeling in your stomach.
that meant love, did it not?
subconsciously, you furrow your eyes and grit your teeth. they didn't love you. they were just crazy.
well, maybe they weren't crazy, maybe just misled. you've yet to learn about erwin's past, but based on the way he acts, you assume that it might be a sensitive topic. that had to be the only logical solution, right?
but if they weren't crazy, they'd let you outside, right?
but then again, the outside world could be dangerous at times. when you went outside last time, you did get scuffed and bruised because of the concrete. maybe they just wanted to protect you? that had to be it.
you open your mouth to reply, but the sound of your door opening and closing has you slamming it shut.
"she's still crying," levi asks while walking closer, frowning at how you grip erwin's hand tighter.
"it's best if i let you and her speak about it," erwin says sadly, letting go of your hand and making his way to the door, "alone."
you gulp as soon as erwin shuts the door behind him, staring at levi anxiously. he plops himself next to your body, just like erwin did before.
"please don't hurt me..."
sighing, he lays himself down next to you and pulls you close to him.
"i'm not going to hurt you," he pulls your head into his chest and wraps his arms around you, "not unless you deserve it."
"but...," you quiver, "you were so angry earlier."
"i wasn't angry. i was just... nervous, i guess. and it wasn't at you, or because of you, it was at the mess."
a silence floods the room as you relax in levi's embrace, heat once again spreading to your cheeks.
"what made you puke? i know lunch wasn't that bad," levi grumbles while rubbing your back, arm slightly stiff.
"erwin... was telling me about his case. the one about the girl getting kidnapped...," you tense up again while levi sighs.
"why would he tell you that? i swear he's gonna end up shooting himself in the foot one day," he shakes his head, "you're not like that girl."
"how so..."
"we did it because we love you, not because we wanted to use your body," he scoffs, "surprised you think of us that lowly."
"n-no! i-i don't," you exclaim.
"i know, i'm just teasing. but don't doubt us like that. we want to love you and care for you, not use you," you trace your finger in a circle at levi's sentence, embarrassment washing over you like a wave.
"you love me?"
"yeah, wouldn't do what i did otherwise."
"i think..." you furrow your eyebrows, unaware of the slightly shocked expression of levi, "i think i love you too..."
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seanfalco · 3 years
Text
The Great Death Defying Nathan Young | Nathan Young x Reader
Word Count: 3.9k Warning(s): Suggestive language, Blood, Character Death (but it’s Nathan, so he’s okay)
Summary: Becoming a Vegas magician’s personal assistant, you get more than you bargained for when you find out the hard way that the magic is actually real, and so are your feelings.
a/n: Dedicated to @midnightseance / @imagine-you for our one year friendaversary!  You were the one to inspire this fic with your ideas after all lol.  Thank you Mel for being such an amazing friend and writing partner.  I love you to bits!  (To bits, I say!)
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“This your first day?” the woman with the clipboard and headset next to you asked, startling you. Tearing your eyes from the stage, you nodded.
“I’m [y/n],” you introduced, shaking the woman’s hand as she checked her clipboard.
“I’m Deb. Ah, yes, here you are,” she said, looking back up at you. “You’ll be shadowing me today,” she explained. “Apparently Mr. Young needs more than one personal assistant,” she added under her breath.
“What’s he like?” you asked as you fell into step with the woman.
“A giant pain in my ass,” she grumbled with a twist of her lips. “Everyday its something else: ‘I’m hungry, fetch me some more cornettos’, ‘get Marnie a new pair of lingerie, you know th’kind I like’, ‘I need more condoms’,” she exclaimed in a poor imitation of an Irish accent.
“Oh,” you exclaimed, your brows rising in surprise. You were starting to get a better picture of what this Nathan Young you were going to be working for was like and he seemed like a bit of a prick.
——
——
“Mr. Young,” Deb called through the door to his dressing room after knocking several times with no answer. “Mr. Young!” she tried again, louder this time.
“What? Jay-sus, come on in!”
Deb rolled her eyes as she opened the door and you got your first look at ‘The Great Nathan Young’. Sprawled back in a rather grandiose throne-like chair, one long leg thrown over the arm rest, he wore naught but a half open silk robe tied loosely at the waist and a long silver chair round his neck that glittered against his bare chest.
Sporting a dashing goatee and dark wavy locks that framed his face, his dark limned emerald eyes unabashedly looked you up and down, openly checking you out with a small quirk to his lips.
“And who’re you?” he asked, his lilting accent taking you by surprise. It was nothing like how Deb had impersonated.
“This is [y/n], she’s your new assistant,” Deb introduced, sounding bored as she looked disdainfully around his messy dressing room.
“New assistant? I thought I was your assistant!” the dark haired girl you’d seen on stage earlier exclaimed, her voice a rather grating whine.
“What? No, sweetheart,” Nathan soothed, pulling her into his lap. “She’s my new personal assistant, you’re my magical assistant,” he explained and the girl ‘ohhhh’d’ in understanding, letting out a high pitched giggle.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she exclaimed. “I thought you were gettin’ rid of me for a moment there.”
You noticed Deb roll her eyes again and fought the urge yourself.
“Alright, well, if you don’t need anything—” Before she could finish, Marnie spoke up, cutting her off.
“Actually, I’d like a coffee!”
“Oooh, and I’ll have a soda, and a sandwich,” Nathan added.
Ushering you out of the room before the two could asked for anything else, Deb grumbled under her breath, showing you where the food cart was and how to make Marnie’s coffee the way she like it, with extra sugar.
——
You’d only been on the job a handful of days, but you had to admit it was kind of exciting, despite Nathan’s constant demanding whims. Standing off to the side to watch that night’s rehearsal, you couldn’t help but marvel at how real it all looked.
“Marnie! Stop stop stop!” Nathan cried, frustration lacing his voice as he stopped the production to chastise his partner for about the third time.
“What now?” Marnie exclaimed with a huff, crossing her arms petulantly over her chest.
“You’re not hitting your mark!” Nathan groaned, gesturing to the taped off X on the middle of the stage. “How am I s’posed t’make yeh disappear if y’don’t hit your mark?”
“I don’t know! Does it really matter that much?”
This wasn’t the first time they’d ended up in a shouting match either. It seemed over the past few days, since you’d started, there’d been trouble in paradise, the two constantly picking at one another.
“I need a break, I’m gettin’ a fuckin’ headache,” Nathan groaned, walking off the stage and you hurried after him.
“Can I get you anything?” you asked and Nathan pulled his hand from his face to look up at you.
“An aspirin?” he asked, a pathetic note to his voice before covering his eyes again as he slumped back in his chair. Shaking your head ruefully, you went to go grab a bottled water and some aspirin, holding them out to him.
“Here y’go, drink up,” you prompted, watching him pop the pills in his mouth and down them with a swig of water.
“Thanks,” he muttered, eyeing you askance and you smiled— it was probably the first time he’d actually thanked you for anything.
“No problem,” you murmured. “Can I ask you something?” you wondered after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You knew he was probably going to tell you “a magician never reveals his secrets” or some other bullshit line, but you had to ask anyway.
“Hmm?” Nathan prompted, his eyes still closed.
“How do you make it all look so real?” you asked, a hint of awe in your voice and Nathan’s eyes opened as he straightened, fixing you with a smirk.
“That’s because it is all real,” he exclaimed grandly.
Snorting, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, keep your secrets then.”
“I’m serious!” Nathan insisted. He looked like he was gunna say more until the production manager called him back to the stage and he let out a heavy sigh, pushing out of his chair. “I’d love t’stay and chat, but duty calls,” he muttered, spreading his hands apologetically.
“Oh, but first… this is for you,” he said, stopping suddenly to turn, and with a flourish he held out a single red rose to you. “I didn’t know what your favourite flower was… or really how t’make anythin’ that isn’t a rose so…” he trailed off with a shrug and you took the flower, watching him walk to the stage in awe.
Turning, you found Deb watching you, rolling her eyes at the grin you quickly wiped off your face. However, once she left, you smiled to yourself, tucking the flower behind your ear.
Busying yourself with rearranging Nathan’s wardrobe rack, you lost track of what was happening on stage until an angry shriek filled your ears and you jumped, your head snapping up. Before you knew what had happened, Marnie was pushing past you, nearly knocking you over in her haste, Nathan hot on her heels.
“No, I’m done!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot in consternation.
“But Marnie, baby, c’mon!” Nathan pleaded, rushing past to follow her to his dressing room.
“You better go after them,” Deb groaned, running her hand down her face.
Not exactly wanting to eavesdrop, it was kind of unavoidable, however, as you stood outside the open door. Marnie was throwing her clothes into a suitcase in a huff.
“I can’t do this anymore! You said it was gunna be a cakewalk, but you lied!” she cried hysterically, her already nasally voice raising an octave.
“What am I s’posed t’do without you?” Nathan countered, trying to get her to stop.
“I dunno, get another assistant! How about her?” Marnie pointed at you, having caught sight of you standing by the door. “I’ve seen you flirtin’ with her!”
Nathan grimaced as he caught your eye, the rose he’d given you still tucked in your hair and you flashed him an apologetic look. “Marnie—” he tried again, but she brushed past him, her bags in hand.
“No, Nathan, we’re through. Don’t follow me!”
“You’ll be sorry!” he yelled after her before sweeping dramatically back into his dressing room. “Well, y’comin’ in or not?” he called when you hesitated.
“What, uhm, what was all that about?” you asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. Nathan already had a bottle in his hand and when he turned to face you, plopping down in his chair your brows rose in surprise.
Instead of the long hair you’d come to recognize on him he sported a mess of dark springy curls piled atop his head, and his facial hair was nowhere to be found, making him look nearly ten years younger.
“Oh, who knows? She’s always been fickle, but who needs her, right?” Nathan replied with bravado, waving his hand as he brought the bottle back to his lips.
“You-your face… you look—” you floundered and Nathan snorted.
“Different?” he scoffed, snorting. “Yeah, well, it’s fake.”
“But you said…”
Giving you a patient look as he sat up, he seemed to find your shock amusing. “Th’magic is real, but my appearance ain’t,” he explained. “I mean, clearly, I’m gorgeous, but d’yeh think anyone would pay t’see ‘The Great Nathan Young’ if I looked like this?” he asked, gesturing to his face.
“I dunno, probably. I think y’look better this way,” you added with a shrug, your words taking him aback and he gaped at you. “So, what’re you gunna do now?” you asked, quickly changing the subject, your face starting to warm at your admission.
Groaning, Nathan deflated in his chair. “I’ll have t’find another assistant t’take Marnie’s place, and fast, opening night is tomorrow and if we have to postpone… it’ll be a disaster.”
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” you asked, trying to lift his spirits, but he merely gave you a flat stare before burying his face in his hands.
“I’ve got a lot riding on this show, if it flops... As a kid, all I ever wanted was t’be a magician and this show is my big break. I guess I could always go back t’do card tricks in casinos...” he sighed, the sadness in his voice tugging at your heart.
Trying to think of something to say, you awkwardly patted his shoulder, jumping when he suddenly sat up, his gaze lifting to you and you didn’t like the appraising way he looked at you.
“What…?” you asked hesitantly, although you could already guess what he was thinking.
“You could be my new assistant!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You’re already familiar with the show and—”
“Oh, no no no,” you quickly protested, holding your hands up.
“Oh c’mon! You’d look stunning, and you’d be savin’ th’show,” Nathan argued. “D’you want me t’beg?” he asked, promptly dropping to his knees at your feet, only making your face flare hotter.
“That’s not—”
Before you could finish, he’d taken your hands in his as he gazed up at you entreatingly, his gorgeous green eyes getting the better of you.
“Alright, fine, but Deb’s gunna be pissed,” you groaned.
Instantly Nathan’s demeanor brightened, a grin stretching his face. “Leave that crusty old bat t’me,” he exclaimed, waving the thought away as he leapt to his feet, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you’d even realized it. “C’mon, we better get you into costume, we have a rehearsal t’finish!
——
As you’d feared, Deb was not happy about this new development, leaving her once again to Nathan’s whims as his main personal assistant, and grumbling under her breath, she led you to wardrobe.
“Let’s see how long you last!” she exclaimed as she left you to change. Holding up your costume, you eyed the scanty sequined outfit with reluctance. Sighing, you pulled the costume on and inspected yourself in the mirror. Though you weren’t usually very comfortable wearing something so revealing, you found yourself looking forward to Nathan’s reaction, touching your cheek where he’d kissed you.
“Wow!” he breathed, left stunned for a moment as his mouth fell open, his gaze taking you in. It wasn’t long, however, for his cocky demeanor to return, and he let out a low whistle before flashing you a cheeky smirk.
“See, told yeh you’d look amazin’,” he exclaimed, back in his wig and goatee, and you rolled your eyes; you really did like him better without that ridiculous get up.
Climbing up on stage with him, he walked you through each act and you were thankful you had at least some knowledge of what you were supposed to do after watching Marnie so many times. Up close and part of the action, the magic tricks seemed even more real and though you tried, you couldn’t quite figure out how he did it.
“Well, I think that went as well as can be hoped for,” the production manager exclaimed, a haggard look on his face. He, like Nathan, needed the show to go off without a hitch.
“Hey, you were great up there!” Nathan called, catching up to you as you headed back to the spare dressing room — yours, now — to change.
“Really?” you asked, kinda surprised; you’d felt like you’d just been fumbling your way through it.
“Yeah, you’re a natural,” he insisted, leaning against the wall next to your door and you rolled your eyes, fighting a pleased grin.
“So…” Nathan murmured, his gaze dropping as he leaned in closer, trailing his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Wanna come round t’mine tonight? I’ll help keep your mind off the pre-show jitters,” he offered.
For a moment you merely stared at him incredulously.
“We’ll get drunk, have a little fun—”
“I can’t believe you!” you exclaimed in disgust.
“What?” he asked, a confused frown pulling at his lips. “I’ve seen th’way you look at me when y’think on one’s watching. You want me,” he argued.
“So you think just because I took Marnie’s place that I’ll sleep with you too?”
“Yeah, why not? Y’know you want to,” Nathan countered.
Growling, you pushed past him into your dressing room. “And here I was starting to think you might not be a total prick!” You caught the surprised look on Nathan’s face before slamming the door in his face, and that at least made you feel a little better.
——
It was the night of the performance, opening night, and you felt like you were gunna be sick. You’d never done anything like this before. What if you fucked it up and ruined the show? Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you groaned, wishing you could relax when a knock at your door made you jump.
“C-come in!” he called, your voice wavering.
When Nathan’s head appeared around the door you directed him a flat stare. “What, you here to ask me for a quick shag before the show?” you sneered, trying not to think about how handsome he looked in his suit.
“No!” he exclaimed hastily, though he looked slightly guilty. “No, actually I just came t’check on you. I figured you might be a little nervous.”
“A little…” you admitted, your glare softening somewhat and Nathan offered you a smile.
“Just… don’t think about the audience. Focus on me,” he murmured. “You’re gunna do great,” he assured you before his eyes trailed downward and quickly back up. “You look stunning by the way,” he exclaimed, quickly ducking out the door before you could chuck something at him, leaving you flushed and slightly flustered.
“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, but the word held no heat.
Waiting in the wings, you felt stage fright wash over you afresh as you caught sight of how many people were in the audience. Your heart pounding in your ears, your breath sped up as your whole body felt rooted in place. How were you supposed to do this?
You have no speaking lines, you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath, then another. All you have to do is bring Nathan his props and look pretty. All you have to do is focus on him…
Suddenly the house lights dimmed and went dark, a hush going over the house.
“You ready?” Nathan’s voice in your ear sent a shiver through you, and you yelped softly as he pinched your ass. Before you could turn to smack him he disappeared with a flourish of the cloak he wore, appearing in the middle of the stage in a cloud of smoke for his grand entrance to a crescendo of music and applause.
For a moment you stared at where he’d been in surprise. You’d never been that close before when he did that, you always just assumed it was some sort of trick with a trap door, but now you weren’t so sure.
“Allow me to introduce t’you my very lovely assistant, [y/n]!”
Nathan’s lilting voice calling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and you nearly missed your cue, hurrying on stage to stand next to him, bowing low to the audience before hanging off his arm.
“Took your sweet time,” he whispered, his brows furrowing slightly. “Thought you got cold feet…”
“How’d you do that?” you hissed, still trying to wrap your head around it.
“I told you, it’s magic,” he replied with a smirk, turning back to address the audience. “For my first trick—”
After your first near miss, the rest of the show went off without a hitch and you were actually starting to enjoy yourself, thankful for the brightness of the lights overhead which kept you from really being able to see the audience that clearly.
“You ready for the big finale, sweetheart?” Nathan whispered, slipping his arm around you.
“I have a name, you know,” you reminded him, but there was no snap to your voice and he merely raised his eyebrows at you.
“Are y’ready for the big finale, [y/n]?” he amended, bringing a grin to your face though you tried to hide it.
“Yeah, I think so. Are you?” you asked. Even though you’d seen him perform this trick several times it still made you nervous.
“You know it,” he answered, a genuine smile splitting his face. “Y’know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were enjoying yourself,” he pointed out, nudging your arm.
“I am,” you admitted, hurrying back on stage before he could react.
——
“And now for my final performance of the night, I will be recreating a feat first done by Harry Houdini himself!” Nathan exclaimed grandly to the audience, throwing his arms wide. “Let’s see if I survive!”
“Please don’t say that,” you muttered, helping him shed his cape and fitting the straitjacket on him, securing his arms in place while dramatic music played.
“What, y’worried? I can do this in my sleep,” Nathan murmured, flexing his arms, testing his restraints.
“I’m not… worried,” you argued, stepping back to gesture toward Nathan with a flourish for the audience.
“You are, you’re worried bout me,” Nathan insisted, a smug grin on his lips. “I always knew you cared.”
Scoffing quietly, you didn’t contradict him as the hook descended from above.
“Now that I’m fully restrained, my lovely assistant is going to attach me to this hook where I will be suspended upside down over the stage while I attempt to free myself from my confines!”
The audience gasped.
“Good luck,” you murmured as you helped Nathan lay down on stage, attaching the hook to a rope tied round his ankles.
“I don’t need luck, I have magic, remember,” he countered, grinning coyly at you.
“Nathan—“ you sighed.
“Can I get a kiss for luck, if y’think I need it so badly?”
Rolling your eyes skyward, you bit your lip, bending over him to press your lips to his before pulling back.
“There, now I feel better,” he teased. “When I get back down will y’give me a proper kiss?” he asked as you gave the signal for him to be lifted.
“We’ll see,” you muttered, watching him as he slowly ascended into the air til he stopped, the spotlights training on him.
Holding your breath, you watching him struggle, squirming in the straitjacket, til just like the other times he’d practiced it, he finally freed one arm and then the other, wriggling out of the straitjacket and letting it fall with a thud to the stage below as the audience gasped.
It was when he fought to free himself from the ropes tying his feet together that it happened; he was reaching for the hook to hold onto when the last of the rope fell away too quickly.
You watched in horror as Nathan fell, his name on your lips, the scene unfolding as if in slow motion.
This was not how this was supposed to happen, but the audience didn’t seem to realize it wasn’t part of the show. As soon as he hit the ground at your feet with a sickening crunch, you fell to your knees at his side, a sob catching in your throat, time snapping back to normal even as the world around you felt muted, your pulse the only thing filling your ears.
The quickly spreading pool of blood beneath him had reached your knees now, but you didn’t care, pulling his lifeless body into your arms, stroking his curls away from his forehead, the glamour having faded away.
He’d been telling you the truth this whole time— it was all real...but so was this. How was he supposed to come back from this?
“Nathan, you idiot,” you sobbed, stroking his cheek. “Why’d you have to do something so foolishly dangerous? You should’ve been wearing a wire, just in case…”
You felt your tears fall hotly down your face, blurring your vision. “What am I supposed to do now? I was just starting to like you, you ass—”
“You were?”
At Nathan’s raspy voice, your eyes snapped open and your jaw fell as you found him watching you, a small grin playing at his pink lips which just moments ago had been alarmingly pale.
“Nathan, you’re—! How?” you gasped, quickly wiping at your eyes, blinking back your tears.
“Am I in heaven? Cause you must be th’hottest angel I’ve ever seen,” he joked, his lips twitching as his grin widened.
“Nathan!” you huffed, unamused, your lips quivering. “You fucking asshole, that wasn’t funny! You scared me half t’death!”
“Were you cryin’ over me?” he asked, tilting his head as he reached up to wipe at your damp cheeks. “Don’t cry, [y/n]. I’m alright,” he assured you, his gaze softening, touched at how much you cared.
“How-how did you do that?” you asked, thoughts of anything but the young man in your arms far away.
“Well, I’m immortal, so…” he shrugged as he sat up, wincing slightly.
“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, met with Nathan’s raised eyebrows.
“Is it? After everything else you’ve seen me do?”
“I guess not…” you conceded. “You’re still an ass though,” you exclaimed, helping him up to face the audience who applauded and cheered deafeningly.
“Yeah, but you still like me,” Nathan pointed out cheekily.
Opening your mouth to argue, you decided against it, too relieved that he was alive, that you had more time. Yanking him toward you, your mouths collided and he reacted instantly, his arms snaking around you as he dipped you low, kissing you back with a fervor that stole your breath, leaving you panting in his arms as he righted you.
“You wanna come back t’mine after the show?” he asked, watching you expectantly.
“Do you always go to these lengths to get laid?” you teased, even though you already knew your answer.
“Nope, you’re th’first I’ve died for,” he answered with a smirk that made you grin back. “Besides, I’m hopin’ it might be a little more than that,” he admitted as the curtain fell.
Searching his face for a moment you kissed him again. “I’d like that.”
———————
Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @xenteaart @gurlimtired @phoenixhits @super-unpredictable98 @nightingale-rose @salvador-daley @duck-noises @forenschik @simsiddy @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @captainsheeballs
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)
a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!
pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)
word count: 8k
SERIES MASTERPOST  ⚫️ my masterlist  ⚫️  come and talk to me about Serendipity!  ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!
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Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.
There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.
Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.
Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.
It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.
“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.
 December 31st
A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.
Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.
Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.
“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.
The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.
“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.
“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.
Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.
“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.
Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.
It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.
Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.
He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.
“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.
“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.
He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.
“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.
“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.
The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.
“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.
“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.
“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”
“How do you know him?”
Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.
“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”
Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.
“How ‘bout you?”
“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.
“Y’ don’t like to go out?”
“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.
The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.
Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.
The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.
He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.
Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.
“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.
“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.
They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.
Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.
Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.
“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.
Then the countdown begins.
“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”
Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.
“Seven!... Six!...”
Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.
“Five!... Four!...”
She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.
“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”
The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.
Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.
Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.
He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.
There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.
The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.
She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.
The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.
“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.
“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.  
One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.
Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.
After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.
“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.
“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.
The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.
“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.
“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.
“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”
The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.
“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”
Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?
“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”
Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”
“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.
“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.
He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.
He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?
She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.
When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.
“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.
“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.
“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”
“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.
“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.
Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.
Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.
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There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.
Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.
His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.
How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.
As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.
The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.
Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.
“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.
“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.
“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.
“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.
“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.
“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.
He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.
He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.
He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.
Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.
“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.
“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.
“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.
“Haven’t seen you around here.”
“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.
“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.
“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.
“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”
“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.
“Harry, that’s… not the case.”
“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.
“Mommy! I want this!”
At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.
“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”
It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.
“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.
He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.
“Who’s this?” he blurts out.
“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”
“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.
“What?”
“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.
“No, we were never even married.”
He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.
“Okay, it’s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.
“You thought I was married?”
“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.
“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.
“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”
“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”
“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”
“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”
“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.
“Because of Benji, yeah.”
“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.
“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”
“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.
“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”
“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”
“Is that really what you want?”
Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.
“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.
“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.
She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.
“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”
“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.
“Yes.”
Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.
“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”
“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”
She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.
And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.
The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.
“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”
“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”
Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.
“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.
“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”
The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.
“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.
Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.
“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.
“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”
Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.
“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?” Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.
“Of course I did!” she sighs.
“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”
“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.
“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.
“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.
“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.
The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.
“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.
Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.
Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.
“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”
They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.
“I really don’t know…” she sighs.
“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”
“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”
Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.
Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.
“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.
“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.
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“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.
“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”
“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”
Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.
“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”
Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.
Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.
“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”
“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”
“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.
“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”
“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”
“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”
“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.
Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.
“What?”
“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.
“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.
“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.
“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”
His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.
“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”
“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.
“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”
“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”
“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.
“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”
“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.
“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.
“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”
“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”
A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.
“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.
They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.
“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.
“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”
“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”
“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”
They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.
NEXT PART
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radioduo · 3 years
Text
rescue him || dsmp become human
word count: ~1,300
notes: am i technically late? yeah.. am i going to count it as being late? nope! anyway i have no idea how this one is, so feedback is appreciated! enjoy :]
first // prev // next
X Rescue him
“He’s coming with us, Tommy,” Tubbo said firmly, lifting the young boy into his arms. “I can’t leave him,”
Tommy stared at the scrappy android boy crossly but said nothing. As the newly formed trio wandered to the bus stop, the brown-haired child gripped Tubbo’s shirt, fiddling with the buttons. He was strangely silent, Tubbo noted, save for a few staticky noises he made now and then. A part of him wondered if that was the result of whatever had happened to his face and eye. He got the feeling he already knew the answer to that question but didn't dare to think about it too hard. “I wonder if he has a name,” Tubbo murmured to himself.
The small boy brightened at the mention of a name, smiling up at the white-haired teen.
“I doubt it. Should you give it one?” Tommy suggested. He was tracing circles on the bus stop bench in boredom. “Seems like the best thing to do.”
Tubbo looked at the android thoughtfully. The boy stared back at him with chocolate brown eyes that reminded Tubbo vaguely of a puppy. “What about Michael? Do you like Michael?” He asked brightly, moving strands of hair from the kid's one good eye.
Michel beamed and nodded at him, hauling himself onto the bench between the two teenagers. He made a noise that sounded similar to ‘yes,’ though Tubbo wasn't one hundred percent sure. “Good!” he grinned, watching with unmistakable fondness as Michael turned to Tommy and tugged on his jacket sleeve. “So that’s settled, I guess.” His gaze wandered to the bus schedule. The next one would be arriving in a few minutes, thankfully. He wasn’t sure how much longer they would be able to wait without being spotted.
“What are we gonna say if someone asks us who he is?” Tommy questioned, shrugging Michael’s hand off his coat. “Someone’s gonna be suspicious of us at some point, so we need to have an answer,” he said. His leg bounced up and down nervously. “Our brother or something?”
There was a moment of silence before Tubbo replied at last, “He’s my son!” He grinned as he felt Michael lean into his side, and he ruffled his wavy locks of brown hair.
Tommy stared at him dumbfoundedly. “What d’you mean he’s your son?” He demanded, volume rising slowly. “You don’t even look old enough to drive, let alone have a fuckin’ kid! He’s what, like five or so? You’re only 17, Tubs, what are you talking about?”
Tubbo rolled his eyes. “I’ll just say he’s my son and hope for the best. Doesn’t matter what people say, y’know? I rescued him from death, Tommy, I’m already treating him better than whoever his previous family was.” As he put an arm around Michael, the familiar sound of tires on asphalt grew louder as the bus pulled up to the stop. The three hopped up from the bench, both Tommy and Tubbo gripping Michael’s hands.
“Let’s go.” Tommy flung his bag over his arm. “We need to find somewhere safer than here.”
The three boarded the bus, sighing in relief when they saw there was nobody else on board besides a sleeping man in the back. The trio chose a seat in the middle, settling down as the doors closed and the bus lurched back into movement.
“This route is taking us to Ferndale, I guess,” Tubbo murmured. “That’s what the schedule said, at least. Is there a train station up there?” He brushed a few snow-white strands of hair out of his eyes and peered over Michael's head to where Tommy sat.
Tommy shrugged, not seeming in the mood to talk. He stared moodily out the window, watching the tall buildings roll past the glass. Tubbo could tell the blond was upset about something, but he decided to leave the topic alone. Tommy would talk if he wanted to.
Tubbo listened to the news from the bus's radio absently as the vehicle traveled north. It was hard to catch everything the reporter was saying, but he managed to catch every other word.
“Hard… believe… another deviant… last night... home… CyberLife’s founder… attacked… Devon… killed…”
Tubbo froze as a shiver ran down his spine. They were talking about him.
“...suspect… fourth case… past week… begs the question… androids dangerous… tensions… sales plummet… recalls…”
The deviant’s stomach turned as he listened to the news report. Androids were getting recalled from CyberLife, and android owners had begun returning their robots out of fear they might get hurt. He felt dizzy as he realized that leaving the state was his only option if he wanted to make it through this alive. Police were still searching for him, and if he was thinking about it, he felt as though civil war was inevitable. Enmity was brewing between man and his creations, and Tubbo felt sick just thinking about it. Tubbo gripped his son's hand and glanced sideways at Tommy. He didn't want to think about what would happen if someone found him.
He pushed the thoughts from his mind and decided to tune out the radio for the rest of the trip. It was dark when the three of them finally came to their stop, and Tommy, Tubbo, and Michael filed off the bus one by one. The electronic bus stop's faint glow was the only light source around other than an ominously flickering streetlight. Tommy grimaced. “Where now? We’re far enough away, surely,” he said, eyeing the different cars that passed by. The taller boy grabbed Michael's hand absent-mindedly as the kid hugged his pant leg.
Tubbo scanned the area silently. There didn’t seem to be anything of interest around besides some graffiti and street signs. The city seemed a little rundown and abandoned, and Tubbo would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little unsettled. “Let’s head… that way.” Tubbo flung a finger in a random direction, hoping that he was making a good decision. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
----------
Tubbo and Tommy walked down the darkened sidewalk, looking around nervously for anyone who might be watching. “I feel as though we’ve been walking for ages and getting nowhere,” Tommy grumbled. “Do even you know where the fuck you’re going?”
“Nope!” Tubbo chirped, adjusting a sleepy Michael on his hip. “I hope you know I just pointed in a random direction,” he admitted, snickering a little at Tommy’s annoyed expression.
“We’re fucked, you know,” Tommy mumbled. “We’re walking in a random direction, in the dark, all alone. I can’t imagine that anything could go well for us right now.”
The three slowed their pace when they came to the end of the street. The air smelled vaguely like the Detroit docks, and Tubbo felt his heart pounding as he squinted into the darkness. He could see the outline of a large, mostly abandoned freighter in the distance, but if he looked close enough, he could see a faint light flickering inside.
“You can’t seriously be thinking about going in there,” Tommy whispered cautiously. “You have no idea what the hell is in there, do you want to risk our lives? And more importantly, my life?”
“It’ll be okay, Tommy,” Tubbo promised. “If anything shady starts going on, we’ll get the fuck out, but I gotta know what’s in there first,” he said, already making his way towards the boat and onto the docks.
“What even is this place?” Tommy wondered aloud, trailing after the white-haired android. He stepped onto the docks and looked up at the large, hulking ship beside him. Despite the beat-up and rusty metal, a word was visible on the side in chipped white paint. "Something's written on the side... Jericho?"
Tubbo raised an eyebrow. “Huh,” he replied eloquently. “Well then, what’re we waiting for? Let’s check inside, shall we?”
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jordanstrophe · 3 years
Text
A Cinnamon Bun too Pure for this World, part 2
CW: Whump, heavily conditioned whumpee, offering themselves for punishment, beating and cutting implied, Whumpee trying to stay with whumper, panic attack, slapped, losing consciousness, 
Masterlist
(Brain fizzled, if there’s any types, shhh, no one will notice, right?)
Whumpee sat in the passenger seat with his hands folded politely in his lap. His eyes were wide with a mix of emotions of fear, sadness and loneliness. They had never been away from Whumper this long. It felt like every second that passed of them being separated added another hit to his inevitable punishment when he finally reunited with Whumper. 
Caretaker tried to keep their eyes focused, but he could see the boy trembling in the corner of his eye. “Can I ask your name?” Caretaker asked. The boy let out a shuttered breath when he was acknowledged, he was trying to answer, but no sound came out. 
Caretaker sighed with a small smile. “It’s okay, I know you’re frightened. You had a rough day.” 
Or was it a day? Whumpee seemed so comfortable with that man, he must have been with him awhile. Had he had a hard week? Month? Year? 
“Cin...” He heard the tiniest voice murmur beside him. Caretaker let out a genuine smile.
“Hi Cin, my name is Richard.” 
--
They pulled into the driveway, it was a cute house with a white picket fence surrounding it. Cin hardly looked up as the door opened for him, refusing to budge from the car. 
“I’m... Sorry.” Cin muttered. Richard’s smile faded.
“You’re fine, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay here, you’re free to leave whenever.” He tried not to sound upset or disappointed, but he hoped the man would stay for just a little bit, until he could get on his own two feet.
“N-no! It’s not that! It’s... I never should have left the hotel!” He cried with guilt. “He... He didn’t tell me I could leave! I should have stayed right where he l-left m-me!” He blubbered, his tone crashing into tears as he covered his face from shame.
“Sweetheart...” Richard’s face fell.
“H-he’s going to c-come back for me, right? If I just s-stay... Right where he left me. He’s going to come back. He has to! I can’t do anything without him, he said so himself!” Cin cried. 
Richard leaned against the car closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Cin, I’m so sorry, but he’s not going to come back for you.” He said. Cin’s cries grew louder and more helpless with his words. “But he wasn’t a good man, was he? Didn’t he hurt you?” He asked.
“No! Only when I deserved it! He was... He was-” His voice disintegrated as he stared off blankly into space. 
“When did you deserve it, Cin?”
He didn’t answer, he seemed completely lost in an ocean of a thousand thoughts and words. 
“Why don’t we get inside and settle in. I have a guest room you can stay in.” He tried to give him an excited smile.
Cin looked at him as he cleaned his face off. “H-hotel?” He muttered.
“No, I’m not taking you back to the hotel, it’s not safe there.” He extended his hand to him, as Cin’s hand instinctively shot out, wedging his wrist into Richard’s hand. He looked shocked he even did that for a stranger, but it was too late now as Richard shifted so he was holding his hand instead of his wrist. 
A soon as the front door open, there was a fluffy golden retriever waiting to greet them at the door. Her tail swishing back and forth even faster when she saw Cin, who instantly perked up and beamed with excitement. He started making a high pitch squeaking sound that Richard hoped was a good sign as he collapsed on his knees to greet the dog. 
“This is Daisy! She’s very friendly.” Richard smiled, Cin was already all over her with hugs and pets, ruffling her fur as she could hardly sit still with happiness. 
Richard let out a chuckle, “I’ll make some tea for us, do you want anything specific for dinner? Are you allergic to anything?” He asked.
Cin froze as he blinked up at him with nervous eyes. This was a test, right? Should he be honest? He was afraid if he lied he would get caught anyway and make things worse.
“I can’t hav-... I’m allergic to fish.” He admitted. “Got it! No fish.” Richard said, disappearing into the kitchen. Cin was still locked in place, not sure what to do, until he quickly snapped to his feet. 
“Wait! I can make dinner!” Cin called, bolting over to follow him. “But you’re a guest! I got this, you just sit down with tea and take it easy, mmaky?” Richard smiled, taking his hand and placing a warm teacup in it. 
“Eh?” Cin blinked down at the cup in his hands. He was a guest? “But-.. But I can’t do that, I have to help! Please, I can do this! I can be useful!” He pouted. 
“Alright! Alright, you can help, I appreciate it.” Richard chuckled, as Cin visibly relaxed with a relieved sigh. Cin did everything he was told, and executed quickly and flawlessly. He moved like a bullet anytime he was asked to grab this, put that away, add this. When he had nothing to do, he stood there like a stick soldier waiting for the next order. 
Richard put two full glasses and other things onto a tray. “Can you bring this to the table?” He asked. For the first time, Cin didn’t move. “You.. Want me... To what?” He asked, his head curiously tilted to the side. “Tray? To the table?” Richard asked. Cin looked genuinely scared of the tray sitting innocently on the counter. “It’s okay if you don’t want to!” Richard added. 
“No! I can do it.” He said with his voice trembling. “Are you... Are you sure? I can ge-” “-No! I can do it.” Cin mumbled as Richard raised an eyebrow. He tried to continue chopping vegetables while watching Cin with the corner of his eye. His hands were already trembling as he slowly placed them on each side of the tray. He braced himself as he lifted it, his heart jolting as he watched the glasses wobble dangerously. He turned his body around to the table, as soon as he got half way there, pain spiked through his left hand as it gave away. He let out a yelp as the tray hit the ground with both glasses shattering to pieces, scattering across the kitchen.
Cin slowly peaked his eyes open to see himself standing in a sea of broken glass. He couldn’t feel his hand anymore, or hear a thing. He only stood frozen with wide eyes looking at the awful mess he had made. 
n.. o...   no.... I didn’t... It was... no... an accident...  didn’t mean it...
‘I’m sorry’ His mouth moved, but no sound came out. His eyes widened when he realized there was no air in his lungs.
‘Cin, breath’ 
His eyes twitched when he finally heard something. 
‘Cin, breath!’
Breath? Breath what?
“CIN! TAKE A BREATH!” 
He gasped into reality when he felt a strike against his cheek, the air filling his lungs almost felt wrong. He blinked awake, he was laying on the ground in the living room in Richard’s arm.
“Why weren't you breathing!? Cin! You just... Stopped breathing! You scared me to death!” Richard cried, his face pale with terror.
“I’m sorry.” He rasped, finally, words coming from his lip. He sat up as Richard helped him, still supporting his back just to make sure he was okay. He was light headed as the room spun.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Richard asked. 
‘I’m sorry...”
“Cin,  are   you   okay ?” Richard asked sternly, grabbing his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry...” He muttered with a blank expression. Richard‘s eyes fell to his hand still clutched to his chest. He gently slid his hand in and took it, turning his palm around. There were inch long scars in the middle of his hand in multiple places. Robert’s heart dropped to his stomach when he realized what happened. It wasn’t because Cin didn’t want to pick up the tray, it was because he couldn’t.
‘Cin... Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Richard asked, as Cin’s hand immediately retracted and hid into his chest. He looked up at him with glossy eyes.
“Because I didn’t want you to think less of me.” He sniffled. 
“Why would I think less of you?! When did this happen?” He asked.
“About a year ago...” He muttered.
A year. He had been with that man for well over a year?! He stopped when he noticed Cin had been moving. He glanced up to see Cin had tugged his shirt off and set it to the side with his back turned to him.
“I-I’m ready.” He mumbled sadly, already beginning to cry silently as he hid his head in his arms against the floor. His back was colored black and blue from uncountable bruises and marks running down his arms. He looked as if he was thrown into a mixer. 
Richard opened his mouth to panic, but now it was his turn to be breathless. 
Cin waited for the belt or the rod to be brought onto his back. Usually his punishments had something to do with his stupidity as he realized he was probably going to be cut with the glass shards he littered the floor with. His skin crawled and shivered at the thoughts... Please just the rod... The rod was the easiest to ta-... What was he even thinking?! He didn’t deserve the rod, he deserved an appropriate punishment. But... The glass hurt so badl- His thoughts were interrupted as two arms wrapped around his chest, lifting him into his arms bridal style.
What... What is happening? He had never been carried like this before...
“No no no no this is too much.. Way too much for me.” Richard mumbled under his breath. Cin looked up at him with confusion as they both looked at each other like they were crazy. 
Cin jolted as he was laid down into a soft plush bed and bundled up in blankets. 
“Nope, I am in waaaay to deep over my head.” Richard continued to mutter under his breath, his face wide as if he had seen a ghost. 
“S-sir?” Cin asked with confusion, looking up at him with big eyes.
Richard plastered a fake smile on his face as he brushed Cin’s wavy ash blonde hair from his eyes as he blinked. 
“You’re alright sweetheart. I’ll bring you some dinner and a drink in a moment, okay? Just lie down and rest, you need to recover.” He said with a tone death voice. 
‘Recover? R-recover... From what?” Cin asked with a tilted expression. Richard didn’t answer as he mindlessly walked out of the door, gently closing it behind him.
Richard gasped as his chest fell onto the table, his hands gripping into his hair. He hardly felt he was ripping hair out as he heaved for air. His back... That poor man’s back... It was unreal, inhuman, disturbing, horrifying... He collapsed his head on the table as he tried to shake the image from his mind. He had gotten himself buried into way more water then he could tread. 
He would bring him dinner and a drink and get some much needed rest... He would call the hospital and police first thing in the morning, they were much more qualified at taking care of him then he was. 
-
Cin was having an absolute blast getting comfortable in the new bed. It was so soft! So plush, so warm, it was like floating on a cloud! He stretched his arms over his head as he rolled around making the blankets wrap around his body over and over again. He froze half way as his eyes shot open. 
He hadn’t gotten punished yet. He didn’t get beaten, belted or sliced. What.. What did that mean? That meant his punishment was on hold until tomorrow, correct? Why wait so long unless... Unless this Richard man had to set something up for him? He... He broke two glasses! There must some horrible punishment waiting for him when he wakes up and-
He froze when the door opened again, Richard stayed true to his word and set a plate and cup down at the desk and quickly left. 
Cin shot up in bed as he looked down at the plate. The cup left for him was in a plastic cup instead of the glass one. He quickly drank the whole thing in one go, before looking down at the dinner
He didn’t deserve it...
-
It was late in the night, only the stars and moon in the sky were lit as Cin tiptoed across the living room floor. Daisy had noticed him awake and happily jumped around to greet him as he tried to shush her. 
“Shh! I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He said sadly, slinking to the floor on his knees as he laid his head on her soft fur one last time. He quickly got up and slipped out the door, closing it behind his before Daisey could try and follow him. She stopped wagging her tail as the door shut, looking up at it with confusion, before spinning around and running into Richard's room. 
She jumped up on his bed and licked his face until he squirmed awake with a groan. 
“Hmmph... Daisey, noooo.” He tried, not even sounding authoritative. She let out a bark as he jolted, sitting up and trying to push her off the bed. She continued to bark and bark anxiously as Richard finally gave in and climbed out of bed. Daisy started running around the house in a panic, going from Cin’s door, to the front door. Richard blinked as he came to a realization and slammed Cin’s door open, revealing a perfectly made empty bed, the plate on the desk left untouched and a note sitting in the middle of the bed. He squinted as he flicked the light on and took the note~
Thank you for everything and I’m sorry
I’m going to go back to the one person 
who can put up with me
Richard instantly bolted, throwing his robe and grabbing his car keys as he was out the door in a flash.
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o(^∀^*)o Thank you for reading!
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