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azrielbrainrot · 3 months

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar

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ssahotchnerr · 9 months

Note

Reader sending Aaron cute messages when he’s off on cases and him not realizing he’s kinda smiling when reading them? Or they just make him in a much better mood in general and the others let reader know when they’re officially introduced? Idk it sounded cute in my head LOL

all thanks to you

omg that's ADORABLE cw; FLUFF

"you!" you had merely crossed the threshold of dave's foyer, only to be attacked by a sudden, warm embrace.

"me?" you said within a laugh. you caught yourself before penelope's abrupt hug caused you to lose your footing, quick to reciprocate and the butterflies in your stomach somewhat lessening.

it was your very first night meeting the bau team, and you had been beside yourself with nerves for close to a week now - ever since aaron had first mentioned the get-together. as they were the next closest thing to aaron's family than jack, you equally wanted to make a perfect first impression.

you must've shown aaron at least five potential outfits before you had left his apartment, asking him over again if he were sure the time was right for you to meet them, and if he was even more sure they would take to you.

aaron had reassured you, that first, you would look stunning in whatever you wore. and second, they would adore you. he offered the comfort that he himself wasn't worried, because he knew them, and he knew you. "trust me," he had said, chuckling softly as he grabbed his car keys. "i'll be long forgotten once they get to know you."

likewise, aaron had already warned you - penelope was ecstatic to meet you and would not keep that hidden in the slightest. but if she were half of what aaron had already described, you knew the two of you were guaranteed to be instant friends. and her current show, was pure evidence of that.

"it's so nice to finally meet you. you have no idea how long i've been waiting." penelope grinned, buzzing from ear to ear. "like, once hotch opened a text from you while we were all sitting around, y'know, being productive. and boy, i knew he was a goner."

"really?"

"are you kidding? okay," she takes a second, as if she's mentally preparing herself, ready to paint the picture. "we were sitting there, like i said. his phone goes off, and y'know that normal face he makes - eyebrows kinda pinched, mr mcpouty pants? - you know the one. he picks up his phone, reads it and he smiles. full-on smiles, right in front of us. he didn't think we noticed, but we did. didn't he smile?" her hand smacks out onto derek's arm, who happened to be passing by, resulting in a gentle slap.

"yeah babygirl." derek flashed a smile in your direction. "saw it with my own eyes."

"so," penelope's hand now flew onto your arm, resuming her energetic story. "when he realized he smiled, god forbid right - mr grumpy face returns, rather labored this time because again, the world will end if we witness anything otherwise. hotch simply puts down his phone as if it were nothing, but oh my god, he was blushing so hard i thought he was gonna explode. he was so so tickled."

"aww," you laughed, your lips curving into a smile and more love for aaron - if it were possible- swelling in the middle of your chest. "that's so sweet."

"oh honey, and that's one time out of, millions. dare i say, he got used to smiling and was generally in such a better mood all around." she lightly shakes your arm. "earlier nights, later morning starts, no more mr mcpouty pants - well, for the most part. all thanks to you!"

you felt a familiar presence still behind you, a hand finding your back. "you blush when i text you?" you turned your head up towards aaron, blush of your very own tinting your cheeks.

aaron shrugged reservedly, helping you slide your coat off your shoulders and folding it over his arm. "i did mainly at the beginning."

"sir, no." penelope shook her head, a pleased smirk vibrant on her face as her gaze switched between the two of you. "you were blushing today."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine

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kooktrash · 9 months

Text

the art of obsession | kim taehyung

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ 17.4K words

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.

The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.

Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.

With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.

You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.

As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.

He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.

“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.

“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”

At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”

“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”

Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”

You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.

You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.

All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.

Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.

At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.

In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.

Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.

The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.

You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.

The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.

There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.

“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”

The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”

You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”

“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.

“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”

Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.

What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?

These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.

You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.

You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.

You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.

He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.

The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.

Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.

You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.

The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.

He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.

At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.

“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.

“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.

Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”

His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.

“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.

“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”

Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.

It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.

Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.

It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.

“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”

He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“

“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”

“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.

Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”

“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”

“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”

“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.

As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.

Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.

He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.

“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”

You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”

Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”

The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.

“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”

His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“

“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”

Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.

Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.

He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.

With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.

Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.

They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.

Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.

That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.

“My name is—“

“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”

You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”

“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”

He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”

“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”

You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”

He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.

“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”

You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”

It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”

The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.

When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.

You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.

“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”

“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”

His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”

“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”

“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.

“Are we ready to order?”

Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”

Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.

Why do you ignore me so much?

You’re always too busy painting to notice me?

Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.

It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.

The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.

“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”

“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”

“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”

“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”

“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”

You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.

Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.

A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.

“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.

“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”

He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.

In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”

You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”

He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”

By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.

“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.

“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.

“But what is it that you believe it to be?”

The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.

You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.

There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”

“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.

“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.

“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.

“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.

“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”

“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”

Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”

“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”

Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”

A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”

You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”

“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.

How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?

You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”

Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”

His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”

The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.

“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”

Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”

“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”

That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”

A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.

Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”

You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.

“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”

“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”

Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”

The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.

You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.

He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.

The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.

Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.

A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.

You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.

His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.

With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.

You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”

He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.

Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.

He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.

His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.

"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.

When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.

“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.

There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.

Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.

“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.

There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.

Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.

A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.

“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.

“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.

As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.

Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.

Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.

“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”

“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.

Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.

“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.

Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.

Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”

“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.

“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.

“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”

He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.

Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.

“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”

You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”

“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.

For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”

“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”

“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”

It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.

“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”

The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.

You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.

It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.

There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.

His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”

Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”

Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”

Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”

“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”

There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.

It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.

The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.

Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.

You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.

Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.

You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”

You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.

Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”

He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”

“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”

“Can I watch?”

Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.

By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.

It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.

Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.

Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.

You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.

Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.

“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.

You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”

Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”

Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”

“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”

“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”

“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”

“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.

“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”

Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.

Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.

There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.

After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”

“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”

You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.

There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.

He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”

“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”

All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.

It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.

Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard

“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.

A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”

It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.

It was you.

You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.

Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.

“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.

“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].

“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.

“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”

Kim Namjoon.

Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.

“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.

Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.

Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”

Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”

Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.

You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”

“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”

“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”

“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”

His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”

“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”

A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”

You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.

Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”

“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.

“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.

“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.

There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.

“Namjoon.”

He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?

“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”

The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”

“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”

Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”

Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”

He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”

“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?

Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.

“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”

“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”

Namjoon didn’t get it.

So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?

Was it not that you might love each other?

Was it just that you two understood each other?

He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.

It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?

Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?

How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?

::.

okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung au #taehyung #taehyung imagine #Taehyung fic #Taehyung fanfic #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shot #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #Taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts imagines

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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months

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heyy... i was wondering if i could request adam x fem reader where reader gets rlly drunk at a party with adam and when they get home shes like all over him begging him to fuck her and spilling all her dirty secrets about kinks and stuff she has (bondage, masochism, overstim, free use, degradation, etc.) because in reality theyd only fucked a few times since they started dating and she wasnt completely ready to tell him all her kinks and stuff but was planning to do it soon and just accidentally spilled it while she was drunk. shes like literally grinding on him on his lap on the couch and hes trying so so so hard to refrain himself because as much as he wants her, hes never seen her this way and doesnt want to be a complete dick and take advantage of her. she eventually starts crying then falls asleep on him then in the morning shes like "what fucking happened???" and he tells her and shes embarrassed and hes like "its oky bbg i still love u"

so yah thats it, id youre not comfy with this stuff no worries, no pressure. have a good day/night :))

Drunken Mess

Adam x GN!Reader

TW: Talks about nsfw, alcohol and partying

A/N: Hey hey friend! Sorry this took so long to write! I made it into a Gender Neutral Reader as that’s what I’m more comfortable with! Hope it’s not too much of a hassle! It is also a little short, I'm sorry friend!

He groaned and glared up at the ceiling as he held your hips to a stop so he wouldn’t get the wrong point across to your drunken brain. Lute was going to fucking kill him, he promised to keep his eyes on you. Yet here you were drunk out of your gourd, whispering stuff to him on the couch in your shared home “Babe- c’mon stop.”

You whined out gently kissing his cheek, “Adam..I gotsa tell you a secret..don’t tell anyone.” You whispered as you leaned closer to him, “I’m really really kinky..Like..sometimes when I’m talking to you and we are about to do the spicy tango-” you slurred out shaking your head before moving to get comfortable on his lap, “I want you to tie my hands behind my back and fuck me into the mattress but I chicken out.” You explained before moving to fall down onto the couch, laughing loudly.

Your legs were draped over his lap as you kept spouting out on how he could’ve overstimulated you all night and you wouldn’t have minded, even going as far as giving him finger guns. He sighed and got up ignoring how you whined at him, he scooped you up into his arms and kissed your cheek. “Oh are we going to bed now?~” You teased leaning your head against his shoulder. He shook his head bringing you to your shared room, ignoring your sexual comments as he helped you get dressed in some pajamas. “Babe- stop kicking me-” He grumbled out finally getting your pants off, your shoes thrown near your closet as he grabbed the pair of shorts you always wore to bed.

“I have a boyfriend!” you yelled out trying to kick your feet at him but realized how he was now moving around to his side of the bed, patting his stomach with a huff as his wings stretched out. You stared at him for a long while before you were now laying your head on his chest, his hand rubbing your back slowly.

When you woke up in the morning, your head was still on his chest as he was checking his phone, your head was killing you. “Adam? Baby?” You called out, making him hum in reply, “I didn’t do anything stupid did I?”

Adam chuckled, “Oh I don’t know? Want me to tie you up and fuck you senseless? Damn I knew you loved my cock but not that much” He teased, causing your face to turn bright red as you hit his chest making him laugh even more before kissing your head. “I love you, babe.” He whispered against your head making you smile and leaned up to kiss him gently. “I love you too…but where is the hangover relief?”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #adam x gn!reader #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam

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sierrrraaawwwwwcgtcvh · 3 months

Note

Hello! I saw you taking requests and was wondering if you could do something. Where the fem reader is a fallen angel, who is found by Carmilla? You can write it however you want, I just think that would be a nice concept starter.

You didn't regret falling from grace even if it was simply mere moments ago, but the pain was getting to you. The feeling of your wings ripped from your back was causing golden blood to ooze out of your back. Your halo was gone in milliseconds. You remembered the way you shivered as they ripped it from above your head.

It didn't help that the exorcist who ripped off your wings almost took out your eye. You were sure they would've ripped it out of its socket if it wasn't for you managing to get away. They were only able to slice your eyebrow before you got up and ran.

The reason you ended up falling from grace was because you simply couldn't take it. This was your third time coming down into hell and each time you felt horrible. You couldn't handle the screams the demons let out as you slaughtered them. You felt horrible, why were you even killing them?

With you questioning Heaven, and letting two little twin girls run away, you got stripped of your rank in Heaven and were now a fallen angel.

You stumbled as you ran throughout an alleyway, not caring about who was staring at you or what was happening either. Earlier the exorcist who attacked you had ripped off your mask and now you no longer had the mask that all exorcists wore.

You knew you had to get somewhere safe, anywhere. It didn't matter whereas long as you were safe. You nearly reached the end of the alleyway before you had to stop and take a breather. Your feet hurt, badly.

You no longer felt the golden blood you had pour out of your back. That was good you had guessed. No more golden blood that gave you away.

You panted as you continued walking and made it out of the alleyway to a deserted area. People lying dead on the streets with angelic spears inside of them to signal their death.

You watched as two girls who looked similar to each other, the black horns made you piece together the connection they had, ran past you. You stared in confusion as you looked at where they came from.

You shivered as you saw an exorcist heading straight for you. With a stumble in your feet, you readied yourself for combat even though you knew you wouldn't likely make it. You didn't have an angelic spear anymore after all.

Even with your body's senses in overdrive, from the pain, the fear, you stood your ground as the exorcist flew towards you with an angelic spear ready to pierce your body.

You closed your eyes and braced for impact. However, the impact never came and a loud scream followed instead.

You instantly opened your eyes to see a woman with large hands you noticed, and hair that was shaped like horns. She had a red sclera and her eyes were as white as snow, with her pupils sharp as a cat's.

You looked her up and down not in a suggestive way as you also noticed the white around her legs was glowing.

You quickly realized the scream didn't come from her, nor you, but the exorcist that was now beheaded and on the floor.

Wait what? You did a double take as you realized the exorcist was beheaded and dead.

How did she-?

"Do not speak of this." Her eyes narrowed at you as she looked you over.

You opened your mouth to speak before she cut you off, "Is that your blood or an exorcists?" She spat out as you spoke.

"I-It's mine. It's my blood." Your voice was full with fear. She had just recently beheaded and killed that exorcist and now you were sure she was going to do the same to you.

"Are you.. fallen? Like, a fallen angel?" She questioned you as you simply nodded your head 'yes'.

You heard her let out a rather heavy sigh as you watched her walk towards you with curious eyes. Wait- who are you kidding? She's probably about to kill you! Oh well, hopefully it'll be fast and over with.

You were tired of the pain coming from your head and back. You just wanted the pain to go away.

The woman began circling you, inspecting you, as you heard two people running towards you and the woman.

"Mother! Are you alright?" You heard one of the girls ask as the woman stop inspecting you and walked over to where the voice came from.

You turned around and stood rather awkwardly as the woman embraced her two daughters, the girls who ran past you.

You realized you should leave as you stumbled when walking away. You didn't want to interrupt their conversation.

You couldn't hear them talking anymore. That was good, right? You continued walking as you felt a hand tightly grasp your shoulder.

You flinched and turned around to see the woman and her two daughters.

"Where are you going?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhm.. I didn't want to interrupt you," you replied as you stared at her, confused as to why she was talking to you.

"You don't have a place to stay right? Plus, the amount of.. blood, on your back can't be a good sign." She sighed as she shook her head. "Stay with me and my daughters for just a bit. You won't survive on your own out here."

You took a second to think the offer over before nodding. "Okay.. what's your name?"

"My name is Carmilla Carmine, and yours?" She offered her hand out for you.

You took her hand as you replied with your name.

"That's a rather nice name. Let's go?" She looked at her daughters who simply nodded at her.

You thanked her as she simply nodded, acknowledging your thanks.

—

Word count: 975

AHHH I WAS SO UNSURE OF HOW TO WRITE CARMILLA FOR THIS, I LOVED THE IDEA SOOO MUCH THOUGH. SORRY IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT!

#carmilla carmine x reader #Carmila x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel

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bunny-eats-fox · 1 year

Text

heart on my sleeve

miyamura izumi

wc: 4700 warnings: female brash/loud/confident reader ; high school romance ; confession an: my second hormiya story! i love him 🥺 enjoy~

-------

It happened a week before you officially started your second year of high school in a completely new, unfamiliar town.

You strolled through the park to get used to your way around the town. However, since it was already 8:40 p.m. and thus dark, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings any longer and instead you scrolled through your phone. Your long, painted fingernails tapping on the screen was the only sound that disturbed the otherwise peaceful quiescence.

That’s when something different suddenly ripped apart that silence.

“Ooiii, sexy lady, what are you doing here this late, hm?”, a complete stranger asked and stood up from one of the benches.

Immediately, the disgust showed on your face and you thought ignoring him was the way to go. Hence, you didn’t answer and hastily walked past him. The young man, however, didn’t stop and instead, he followed you while spouting nonsense like, “Come on, you’re suuuuper erotic, you’ve just waited for someone to pick you up, right? Don’t be shy now.”

You didn’t really know what that idiot meant; you literally wore a hoodie and short pants with some stockings. There was nothing revealing or tantalizing about your outfit. Even if you had chosen to wear something more saucy it wouldn’t have made this interaction any better or more acceptable.

Sadly, ignoring him didn’t help and despite your usual short-temper, he was still a guy probably much stronger than you. Hence, while you were boiling inside and so close to exploding, you opted for something else when you saw another dark figure walking in the park. It was the only way to get out of this now.

As you walked even quicker, you could finally properly make out the unfamiliar figure was another man, probably also in his teens, thus you started running towards him. Now, you only had to pray he wasn’t a creep either, but you hoped for the best here.

“Daaarling~ you’re finally here!”, you chirped ecstatically and glomped a complete stranger, “I missed you so much, you kept me waiting!”

That stranger was no other than Miyamura. Despite his initial shock, because suddenly a girl hung onto his arm and pressed into him like crazy, when he looked at your distressed face, he immediately knew this wasn’t some joke. And before he could say something, the young man from before appeared as well and he started cursing, “Fucking bimbo. Why are you dressed like that if you have a boyfriend, hah Bitch?! Hoe!”

Even though his knees were shaking a little, Izumi didn’t think twice when he pushed you behind him further so the man couldn’t look at you anymore. As he desperately searched for the right words to say, the way he glared at the guy must have been scary enough.

“Whatever, fucking pavement princess.”

Then the guy finally left.

“Pavement princess…? What the fuck!?”, you growled to yourself as you really had to hold back not to curse loudly - if that creep would hear and turn back, things would become very messy.

Instead, you finally looked up to the boy you had glomped.

“I thought my heart was about to give in.”, Izumi gasped as he clutched his chest, visibly scared but also relieved.

And when your eyes met, a strong “badump” in your chest caught you off-guard for a second. That he was scared but still stood in front of you and saved you was seriously admirable and the stranger wasn’t even that bad looking either, rather the opposite. For a moment, Izumi and you stared at each other, before you realized you hadn’t said anything and was still glued to his arm. That was embarrassing.

“Ah! I’m so sorry I suddenly did that and thank you so much for saving me!”, you hastily let go of his arm and stumbled back a little so you could bow properly.

“No, no. Please, I’m so glad it somehow worked out.”, he sighed in relief and then smiled nervously.

Another “badump” in your chest had your knees weak. He was so… handsome and yet so pretty too? The gorgeous stranger was exactly your type. For a girl you had always been taller than most of your female classmates since you almost reached 170cm, hence why you had always liked lanky guys the most. You were almost as tall as him. However, right when you wanted to open your mouth again to introduce yourself and also possibly get his name, your shrill ringtone echoed through the night which made both of you jump and him gasp. You couldn’t help but find that cute.

“Papa? Sorry, sorry, I’m on my way home already. I’m coming!”, then you hung up and realized: Hold on… you didn’t know where your new apartment complex even was and you might have gotten lost in the park.

“Uhm… do you… perhaps know which way this is?”, you looked up to Izumi and showed him your address on your phone. Sure, this could have seriously backfired, but you didn’t get those vibes from Miyamura.

“Hm? Ah… I live there too.”

“Heh?! Seriously??”

“Mh, 7th floor. Let’s go.”

Today was seriously your lucky day and just like that, you got to spend more time with the pretty boy.

Safe to say, when you found out his name and where he attended school, you thought your perfect high school romance unfolded right in front of you. Things couldn’t have turned out any better…

Is what you thought.

But you thought wrong.

You didn’t mind that Izumi changed his appearance in school, you still found him cute and handsome! Plus, you were very happy when you got the chance to walk to school with him due to you two living in the same apartment complex. Destiny couldn’t have been any nicer to you when you even got into the same class as him, however, the first day, you had already realized people treated him… differently.

Maybe it was because you were “the new kid” but people naturally flocked to you and guys were interested in you, despite your efforts to just look and act normal. Since you were naturally just loud and confident, it got you attention. Though you never shied away from interacting with Miyamura the second you had a chance to.

Izumi was happy you didn’t ignore him, despite the fact that it also didn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. It was only the third day of the new school year and he had to listen to some guys giggling in the corner how the new girl should seriously stay away from a gloomy otaku like him or your reputation would go down the drain as well. That’s when it hit him again that he was simply not in your league at all. You only knew them for three days and you fit right in. Well, he couldn’t blame them, you were just really… bubbly and nice. So the last thing he wanted was for you to get dragged down by talking to him.

However, you were either oblivious to the fact that everyone whispered behind your back, or you seriously didn’t care, because you never stopped engaging with your crush. Izumi didn’t know what it was, but he was just thankful, because for once, he felt like he didn’t want to be invisible anymore as he enjoyed himself quite a lot when he talked to you.

As for you… You did notice. Even your new “friends” had warned you already that being too fixated on Miyamura could have a bad influence on you, since you were the new kid and all. But you didn’t care. Not at all. Honestly, you wore your heart on your sleeve like an idiot. That had always been your problem, you were even aware of that yourself, but you couldn’t stop it. People noticed the big fat crush you had on him quite quickly.

And Izumi also swiftly realized that this new happiness he felt whenever he was with you didn’t just came from the conversations he had with you. Although, as weeks passed, he realized another thing: His classmates and other students in your grade noticed you as well. And before he even had a chance to work out his own feelings towards you properly, he had to witness you getting confessed to.

“Oi, oi, oi!!! Sugimori’s confessing to (Y/n)-chan right now!” Miyamura heard a student yell through the class.

“That bastard it hasn’t even been two months!” Someone else laughed as they rushed to the window where they could watch the corner where you and that Sugimori guy met.

Of course, how could Izumi even think he was the only one interested in you. Probably due to his own insecurities, he took your kindness just as that: Kindness. You struck up a conversation with him because that night he was the only one available and now you were practically neighbors, or at least only three floors apart. Miyamura was certain that you weren’t interested in him like that, hence he gave up before he even started.

Things like that kept happening in the following weeks. More often than not, guys would ask you out, but no one was ever successful. Well, most knew why that was. It seemed everyone but the boy in question knew about your feelings towards him. Hence the other boys in your second grade that had a crush on you, took it upon themselves to silence the man that stood in their ways way too many times.

“Miiiyaamuuraaaa-kuuun?” A chill ran down his spine just from how his name was chanted like that. And Izumi’s senses didn’t disappoint when three boys suddenly came up to him in the hallway.

Before he could even say anything, he was grabbed and pulled along. Despite his instincts to immediately resort to punching the living shit out of them, Izumi had to realize that against three boys, two of them even from the soccer club, he didn’t stand a chance. So all he could do was get dragged along. Did anyone help him? Of course not. Most students started whispering but turned away and thus, he landed in the gym equipment room – literally. They threw him against the cart full of soft floor mats.

“Now… let’s talk about (Y/n)-chan, shall we?”

One of them said while the other two closed the heavy door.

“Hmmm?”

You stood in front of Izumi’s desk, wondering where the boy went. Usually, after you grabbed lunch from the cafeteria, you’d come back to your crush waiting for you, so you could enjoy your lunch someplace else.

Though this time, he was just gone without a word. Sure, he wasn’t obliged to tell you every little thing he did, but it was still a bit strange. Especially, since the day you had started your second year at that school, you had always eaten lunch together.

“Ah, (Y/n)? If you’re searching for Miyamura-kun…” And then they told you what they had seen, how he got dragged outside and that it looked really serious and not good at all.

“Someone has seen them going in the direction of the boy’s gym, but-“

That was all you needed to know as you put the food down onto his desk and you rushed outside of the classroom. When you heard “Sugimori, Tachibana and Sunao”, you knew that Izumi was in trouble. You remembered those three names; you had rejected all three of them at one point in the last weeks. Two of them were in your class, so they had probably noticed how you openly crushed on Izumi and weren’t too happy about it.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck this shit!”, you cursed under your breath as you hastily ran through the hallway and down the stairs.

Once you ran into the gym you heard some gurgling and coughing behind the heavy steel door to the equipment room, thus you rushed over.

“Miyamura?!”, you yelled his name when you opened the door, ready to fight whoever it was that tormented your crush, however…

Izumi was gasping, visibly out of breath as he sat on two of them, his knuckles bleeding. Here you thought he needed to be saved, but in reality… he may have been lanky and looked somewhat weak, but he certainly knew how to pack a punch.

When your crush turned to the third boy, he only winced and pressed himself further into the next corner, holding up his hands. Until they all looked at you and he dared to run past Miyamura and his two friends, right behind your back.

“He is crazy! He just started attacking us out of nowhere. We just wanted to talk. He is violent! Look at what he did to them!”, he shouted and pointed to the bleeding knuckles and further down to the bleeding faces of Sunao and Tachibana.

“I didn’t, they-“, Izumi immediately tried to defend himself, but was cut off.

“Do you really have a crush on someone like that?! He’s a psycho!”, Sugimori continued and finally revealed your feelings to Miyamura.

Who, when his attacker said that, Izumi was completely confused. A crush? You? On Him??? Never. He was sure you would deny it with every fiber of your body, but instead…

“I do! Do you have a fucking problem with that, hah?! What is this shit?? Just because I rejected you, what are you, fucking 12?!”, you shouted as well now.

Though all Izumi understood was: You… had a crush on him? He didn’t even have enough time to realize that when he got dragged along for the second time that day, though this time, when you grabbed his wrist and pulled him with you away from the scene, he didn’t struggle and followed quietly.

He simply followed you through the hallways – once again, students watched intensely but didn’t say anything. That was honestly very awkward. Hence why Miyamura was so happy when you finally reached the nurse’s office and you were finally freed from the nosy, judgmental stares of everyone.

You pushed him onto the bed before you went around the office and grabbed a few necessary things. Nothing was said, the air was heavy and he wondered if you could literally hear his heartbeat because of how loud and quick it was.

“You’re… pretty good at this.”, he finally broke the silence when you were in the middle of cleaning his bruised, bleeding knuckles. Even though his hand was shaking a little and all he wanted to do was talk about your “confession”.

“Hahaha yeah… I told you about my big brother, right? When he was in high school, he would always get into fights. It’s probably because of him that I lash out so easily and have a short-temper haha. Since my parents work a lot, even on the weekends or during holidays, they were working almost every day…So uh, long story short even though I was three years younger, I was the only one who could help him with these things so I got pretty good at it.”

Then quietness engulfed you two once again as he watched you clean the rest of his hand, the cut lip and also the cut on his cheek. Once you were done, you sat down beside him on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Miyamura.”

“Hah? Uh, no! It’s not your fault, don’t apologize.”, he immediately said and gestured with his hands.

“Well, I do feel like it is.”, you started nervously playing with your, “You know… I wear my heart on my sleeve, I know it’s bad and such a nuisance. Because of that, they knew how I felt about you and targeted you... I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no really, it’s fine!” Then silence again as he nervously looked to the side.

“So… it’s true… ?”

“Hm?” You looked up, confused for a moment, but when he just lightly blushed and avoided your eyes, you knew what he meant.

“Mh.”, you confirmed and nodded, “I like you. From the moment we met. At first, I just thought you were cool because you saved me and it definitely helped that you’re my type. But… on our way to school, in school, our way back and all the times when I get a chance to talk and be with you, I just enjoy myself so much. Really, it was inevitable that I would fall for you, haha. I just really… really like you.”

You finally confessed and then looked back to meet his eyes. At first, you weren’t embarrassed, but when your crush blushed even harder, it suddenly got to you as well. You had just confessed. Spilled your feelings like coffee onto a table. Now, your face grew warmer as well as you quickly looked away and at the walls.

“Ahh hahaha b-but you already knew, right? Haha I mean like I already said I wear my heart on my sleeve so it must have been obvious, haha so don’t worry, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I’ll be happy if we can just stay friends.”, you nervously scratched your neck and hastily tried to explain yourself. Since Miyamura had never reacted, you guess he just didn’t feel the same.

“I like you…”

“Eh?” It was so quiet you thought it was your wishful thinking.

“I like you, (Y/n)-san. I… never realized.”, Izumi said quietly as he leaned forward a little so his hair mostly covered his embarrassed, red face because he couldn’t bare to look at you right now.

“Eh? You didn’t?! Heeeh? Miyamura… you’re quite dense…”

At that point you thought he might burn to ashes with how on fire his face and ears looked. My. You didn’t know someone could blush that much, it was really cute.

“Mn. I really am…” He nodded and then finally dared to look up to confirm it once more while he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I like you, (Y/n)-san.”

“Oh… So you like me too…” For a moment, you were too speechless, before it suddenly sunk in fully: Izumi liked you too.

And then, you jumped up from the bed and spun around, “Wait, really, like… seriously?!”

Even though Miyamura still looked bashful, he still smiled and nodded. Before he knew it, all he could see was white as his back hit the matrass and he stared at the ceiling. For a brief second, he was confused because you suddenly tackled him, though not for long as he started laughing and returning the tight hug quickly.

It still felt surreal, but the way your hands shook as you grabbed him tightly and snuggled him was confirmation enough that he was, in fact, not dreaming. He had a girlfriend now.

„Izuuuummiiiii-kuuun~“, your whine got no reaction out of him, so you continued, “Izumi-kyun?…Izumi-dono? Izumi-sama? Izumi-saaaan? Izumi? Zuzu? Izu? Iz-“

Finally, after you had seemingly “abused” him long enough with those nicknames, your boyfriend looked up (a cute blush adorning his cheeks since he still wasn’t used to you calling him by his first name) and shut your cute little mouth with his hand.

“You know, (Y/n), I’m really trying to concentrate here.”, he said sternly, though as you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, you knew exactly that he didn’t mean it that seriously.

So, you pouted for a second and then, to free yourself from his hand above your mouth, you flicked your tongue against the inside of his hand. All Miyamura did, however, was raise his eyebrow in amusement, completely unimpressed by your action. You were only dating for three weeks but… he was already used to your shenanigans, hence the hand stayed.

As you playfully glared at him, because he wouldn’t free your mouth, you wanted to change your tactics, but before you could even try, you both heard the sliding door to your classroom open and a few of your classmates came in. When they looked at you, he immediately withdrew his hand and buried his nose back into your English notebook. It certainly didn’t help that they were giggling as they grab their stuff and headed out again.

Of course, both of you still heard their cackling in the hallway and a few words like “cringe” and “embarrassing” also stuck out. It wasn’t something new per se. The moment people found out and you didn’t deny it, everyone had a few things to say.

“Tch.”, you clicked your tongue, “Bitches.”

“Don’t mind them, Izumi. Seems like some people just got mentally stuck in preschool.”, you sighed annoyingly and then turned back to him.

Well… he was happy you didn’t find the need to hide the fact that you were dating, even though he would have understood. Your classmates weren’t the only ones who found you were way out of his league after all, but then again…

Once you realized Izumi kind of got lost in his own thoughts, you let your fingers walk across the table to his free hand. The bruises and wounds from three weeks ago had thankfully healed fully, thus you gently nudged him. Thankfully, Izumi returned the gesture and slid his fingers between your own to intertwine them.

“What are you thinking about, hm?”

When he suddenly stood up, you were a little surprised, but even more so when he leaned over the table to press his lips against your own for a quick, soft kiss. It melted your heart right on the spot.

“Nothing much.”

“Oh my gosh, hurry up with this thing so we can go home already and enjoy the weekend!”, you groaned, “slapped” his hand away and buried your face in your crossed arms. You were so going to make out with him when you were finally home.

“Hahahaha yeah, yeah I’ll hurry up if you stop distracting me.”, he laughed and went back to copying your notes from class.

Later that night, he came into your bedroom, a towel in his hand as he dried his freshly washed hair. You lay in your bed with your phone in your hands and only looked up shortly when he entered. Though it was enough to gift him a small smile before you turned back to your social media app. Even that small smile was enough and his heart fluttered. During those moments, he wanted to let the world know even more how much he liked you and that you were his no matter what anyone else said or laughed about.

Hence why he finally made up his mind.

“Ne, (Y/n)?” He sat down onto your bed and slightly leaned in.

“Un?” You paused your video and looked up.

“Wanna cut my hair?”

“Huh?! Ah, uh, fuck YEAH?! But… why all of a sudden?”

“It’s not that sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and… since you said you want to become a hairdresser, I thought you might want to practice?”

“Fuck yeah.”, you immediately sat up full of energy, “But… until now I’ve been practicing on my brother whenever he lets his hair grow out because he’ll always get a buzz cut anyways, but what if I mess up your hair?” Now you got a little nervous and you started twiddling your thumbs.

“That’s okay. I can get it fixed tomorrow so I won’t look like a hot mess on Monday.”, he reassured you with a smile.

“Mn… Okay, then I’ll give it a try, though…”, then you reached out and brushed through his long, damp hair with your fingers, “I’ll miss it.”

“Mhmh, you liked it?”, he chuckled, which made you pout.

“Obviously? With how much my hands are in your hair, shouldn’t that tell you everything?”, you giggled together with him, “Plus…”

Now you got embarrassed though as you thought about your next words, hence you hastily looked away and stopped.

“Hm?” Izumi cocked his head, his gorgeous blue eyes shimmering with curiosity.

“Mhhhh…”, you grumbled shyly and then mumbled, “When we make out it’s nice to hold on…Or when we cuddle and I can feel it on my skin ‘n stuff…”

Now, you’ve done it again. His face resembled a tomato once more. Despite the fact that Miyamura was quite straight forward when you two were alone (which surprised you at first, but a very pleasant surprise), that statement was too much it seemed.

“Err uhm, but I’m totally for it, if that’s what you want.”, you swiftly continued and gestured with your hands a little.

Inevitably, Izumi had to smile.

“Yeah.” Nodding, he leaned in further to steal a little kiss before he stood up to get your chair.

In the meantime, with a fluttering heart, you stood up as well and rummaged through your drawer to get your scissors and other tools you needed. It would be a good learning experience, but you sure hoped you wouldn’t fuck up his hair too badly. After all… imagining Izumi with a buzz cut was a little wild. However, at the same time also very funny, hence you couldn’t hold back the laughter that suddenly erupted from your mouth.

“Hm? What’s so funny?”

“Hahaha, sorry, uhm, I just hope I don’t fuck this up, because… Izumi… imagining you with a buzz cut…”, then you laughed again and tried to stop as you pressed your knuckles against your lips, shakily saying, “It’s just so funny.”

“Ahaha yeah.”, he nervously chuckled, “I’d rather not do that if it can be avoided haha…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t betray your trust, Izumi.”

You finally got yourself together and got behind him.

“I’ll be very, very careful and only take a few millimeters off at a time and I won’t cut it too short so there’s still something for the barber to work with if it needs fixing.”

He listened to you talk as you started sectioning off his hair. Until, a few moments later, you suddenly stopped with a small “Oh.”

“Oh?”

Out of the blue, he felt your arms around his shoulders and your weight on top of them as you leaned against him. While you cuddled your head against his, he wondered what just happened.

“Soo… maybe you can wait just one more week?”

“Err, I mean… sure. But why?”, he asked, a little confused.

You didn’t answer him for a few seconds and he was about to turn his head to directly look at you when you finally raised your head and leaned in to his ear to whisper, “I miiiight have given you a hickey when we made out earlier… And it’s maaaaybe just quite visibly when you put your hair up…or cut it… ehe…”

“Oh.” That was all he said.

“I’m sorry, Izumi.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m… surprised I didn’t see it when I took the shower.”

“Ah, well it’s right here.” You pushed your fingertip against the blue mark you had left underneath and slightly behind his ear. That made him flinch and whine. That was cute.

“You can’t see it when your hair’s down so that’s why. So you also don’t have to worry about anyone else seeing it. Sor- Wah?!”

Completely unprepared, Izumi had grabbed your hand and pulled you forward and into his lap. The scissors and clips fell from your hands onto the floor due to the sudden movement. And the look on his face told you he was not amused, rather… it looked impish.

“Ne… (Y/n), since your hair also covers up that area, it’s only fair if I do the same, don’t you think?”, he smiled mischievously and you knew then and there you were doomed.

“What? No, I mean, it’s- Yaahhh Izumi!”, you squeed at the end when he grabbed your thighs and carried you the one step back to your bed in which you both then fell.

A playful fight started which contained rolling around in your bed, pushing the pillows and blanket down together with a few plushies you kept on there. At the end, however, you gave up and before you knew it, the fight had turned into tangled limbs and inevitably also tangled mouths as a second make out session started.

Well… at least you could enjoy his long hair for just a tad bit longer now.

--------

all characters canonically under 18 are always aged up in nsfw scenarios ; english is not my native language so i apologize for any mistakes

#horimiya #miyamura x reader #izumi miyamura #horimiya x reader

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fairytsuk1 · 6 months

Text

alex kept his car neat and in good condition, he was certainly wealthy enough to be able to replace it should the time ever come but he preferred to keep his things as long as possible. Especially when it had so many memories attached to it.

“this is your car?! It’s so nice!”

It was the car he picked you up in for your first date, he recalled you wearing the prettiest sundress that, when the wind picked up just right, nearly showed the lace of your panties. He’d swallowed and nodded, the nerves of seeing a pretty girl smiling at him and the way he was beginning to fill out in his boxers was making him light headed.

“yeah, you like it? I just got these little, these fucking car things so it smells really good.”

You nod and lean forward to inspect the hanging heart that emanated, is it called “Ambrosia?” You’re racking your brain for the definition while Alex clears his throat and looks at everything that isn’t the way your tits fill out the dress perfectly.

“Isn’t ambrosia a sex thing?”

“...What?! No, no! The–the lady said it was just a nice smell I don’t even think–”

You burst into laughter, the poor girl probably felt so rejected after Alex was clearly clueless to what she was implying by giving him this car scent. It was embarrassing for him, but it started the date with a lightness that made the whole thing seem like water off a duck’s back.

He asked you to be his girlfriend two weeks later, and in that very passenger seat; you rewarded him with the sugariest kiss he’d ever gotten. Even your lipstick stuck to his cheek, he almost didn’t wipe it off because who would?

“I just think, like, for Las Nevadas you should…”

“Should…?”

Getting fast food late at night was a simple pleasure that he didn’t always give himself, but after a day of wandering and driving, the Wendy’s fries seemed too irresistible to not buy them. Plus, you’d given him puppy dog eyes, so maybe there were other forces at work.

“Sorry, I was looking for ketchup! Anyways, you should give him a happy ending! Maybe.”

“Hah, that’s never happening. It just doesn’t fit! A happy ending for character Quackity? Maybe when the world ends.”

He realized he might have loved you when you shrugged and said, “maybe I just want to see Alex and Quackity happy.”

Maybe it was stupid to change your lore for your girlfriend, but he at least gave it some consideration. For you, anything. It was no surprise that eventually, you two would fuck like rabbits in his car. It was only natural, you looked amazing in your black dress you wore for dinner and every time Alex shifted in his seat… his gold chain made you want to ride him till he fainted. Having it dangle in your face as he fucked into you seemed nice too, safe to say, you two were pent up.

His hand lay firm on your thigh, tips of fingers just going under the hem of your black dress because he knew it teased you just enough to imagine him moving higher, he knew that you knew how much he liked it when you begged. Then, he’s pulling into the driveway and taking his hand away to put you two in park.

“I’ll let you say it,” he gives you a goofy smile but his eyelids are low and his legs are suspiciously spread on the wheel, “do you wanna go inside?”

You don’t even verbally reply, just immediately taking him into a gasping kiss as the tension boils over and bleeds into the passion that courses through your veins. He nearly whimpers, and his hands immediately go to your thighs that he pulls over onto his own lap, “wait, gotta, ngh, the seat.”

“Don’t wanna wait, want you now,” you plop yourself down and immediately grind your clothed clit on his bulge, lips kissing every inch of bare skin you could find.

He adjusts the seat so he can lean back, and pants with the way you needily grind yourself down into his lap, “you’re so needy, can barely adjust my seat and you’re already, fuck, you’re already grinding on me like I’m some kind of pillow.”

Alex is so wordy, it eggs you on and you almost think you could cum like this until strong hands are gripping your hips and bringing you to a standstill.

“What did I say? I wanna hear you say it,” his forehead touches yours as you squirm in his grip, “tell me what you want.”

Nearly salivating, you feel yourself grow smaller as his voice hits you hard with the ruggedness and pure dominance dripping from every word.

“I want, want you to fuck me! I’m so wet for you, I’m a mess! I wanna cum all over your cock, I wanna…wanna feel you inside of me and want you to,” you lift your dress up and his eyes are nearly popping out of his head, “I didn’t even wear them for you. ‘Cuz I knew, I knew you’d wanna do it here. I know you think about it.”

You were right, and it made his cock even harder that he immediately took a hand off you to work on unzipping his dress pants. It was sweet, in all your neediness you took a hand down to help him out, both of you working together to free him from the confines of his underwear and pants.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. You smell so good, and I wanna, just wait. Need to prep you, make you feel good for a bit.” Thick fingers rounded your thigh and came to brush a finger through your folds, gathering the wetness that he was sure you were nearly dripping onto him to feel how badly you wanted him. Stuttering, you spit on your hand to work his cock and feel the precum drip down to his balls and make a mess on his seats.

“Alex,” you panted in his ear when he curled his fingers inside you to feel the way your gummy walls fluttered around him, carving his name inside of you with his fingers and soon his cock, “love it. Love your fingers, love you…”

#quackity x reader #quackity imagine #quackityhq x reader #quackity scenario #quackity smut #quackityhq smut #quackity thirst

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zenkindoflove · 2 months

Note

10 desperately

For Elucien, but like, not an established relationship.

10...desperately.

Okay, Anon. This one got smutty. I mean, I read desperately and that's where my brain went. So this is very NSFW.

10…desperately

Elain closed her bedroom door, taking her first deep breath of the day.

He was here, of course. And because he was here, that meant that her body was not her own. Her nose could always pick up his scent, even when he was in the adjacent room. Her eyes always found him, trailing over his lean frame, noticing how nicely his pants fit him. And her ears could hear the consistent beating of his heart, thud thud, thud thud, thud thud.

It also meant that a more primal possession controlled her emotions. The part of her that ached for his touch.

She ignored it, of course. It was improper and senseless. Her mate was still a stranger to her, and despite the call of the mating bond, Elain was determined to maintain some of her dignity.

An entire day of ignoring her instincts left her sore and sensitive. As she slipped on her nightgown, the brush of the fabric against her nipples infused a whimper in her throat. She squeezed her core, her sex tingling with desire. It had been like this since she was Made. As a human, she remembered having a libido, but whether it was being a Fae or the mating bond, Elain found that her sexual hunger could be insatiable at times. Lucien usually had the good sense to not stay the night, and she was able to take care of her needs without him in the house. However, tonight she had heard him agree to Feyre’s offer, citing that he had a little too much to drink.

She could still hear his heart beating through the wall. He was put in the room down the hall, and if she listened close enough, she was sure she could hear his feet rustling against the floor as he got ready for bed.

She slid under her covers, keeping her hands over the comforter. She closed her eyes, laying on her side, squeezing her thighs tightly together. She could ignore this. She could fall asleep.

Her thoughts drifted as she laid there. She thought about what Lucien could be doing at that very moment. Was he lying in bed as well? Did he sleep in pajamas, or just sleep pants? Maybe he wore nothing to bed at all. Maybe beneath his sheets, he was hard, his cock aching to be touched like her pussy ached now. Maybe he ran his hand over himself, rubbing his palm against his shaft once to try and relieve some of the pressure.

Elain rolled over on her stomach, pulling her top sheet around her and bunching it up underneath. She grinded her mound against it, seeking pressure on her throbbing clit. She knew that this alone wasn’t enough to fully satisfy her, but maybe she could soothe the growing need. Chase it away, at least until morning. She thought of Lucien. She had never seen his body, but she had a fantasy in her mind of what he would look like. She rocked her hips, biting her lip as the little release of pleasure only built her growing momentum. It seemed to only make her hunger worse. She groaned, rolling on her back as she stared up at the ceiling.

She felt something new. Some new desire filled her chest. It was raw and jagged. It sunk its teeth into her and she purred, letting the new sensation stroke her up and down. Up and down, and then Elain realized, this desire was not her own. She popped her eyes open in surprise, as she pieced together what was happening. She was feeling Lucien’s arousal down the bond. And he was…taking care of himself.

It was still her imagination, but she could see him more clearly now. He was naked, lying on his back in bed, stroking his erection in his fist, his head thrown back with his eyes closed shut.

Elain bunched the bottom of her nightgown in her fists, pulling it up and over her breasts. She usually didn’t wear underwear to bed, and she immediately slid her fingers through her folds. She was soaking wet, her day-long arousal making her slick and ready. She explored first, feeling how swollen she had become, toying with her entrance as she tweaked one of her nipples, until she focused on the spot that she knew would take her all the way. She rubbed her clit slowly, more than familiar now with how much pressure and speed she needed. She could make this quick. If she could feel him, she knew he would be able to feel her. It terrified and excited her all at once.

It was different this time. It felt like she had an audience, and it made her even more sensitive. She stroked her clit faster and faster, already a surge building inside of her. She could feel Lucien peaking too, his energy ferocious and needy. But just as she approached the edge of oblivion, she suddenly hit a wall. Her acceleration stopped and she petered out.

“No,” she whined, and she tore her nightgown over her head. She still ached, having the distinct need to be filled, and filled by something big. Something that was just on the other side of the bond, still edging on the brink.

She felt desperate. She knew she wasn’t thinking straight, but she had been dealing with all of this on her own for two, long, excruciating years. Her body was not her own as it tugged on the bond.

Lucien winnowed in front of her bed in an instant, completely naked. His eyes trailed over her body, drinking her in before he prowled forward on his hands and knees across the bed. His body was even better than she imagined. All lean muscles and broad, thick shoulders and biceps. Elain held her breath as he hovered over her, and she darted her sight down, taking in that thick cock that stood in attention against his flat abs. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t touch her, as he waited for her to make the first move.

She snatched him by the back of his head and pulled his face down to kiss him. She poured her desperation into that kiss. The need for him that never stopped bleeding. The pain of her own stubbornness, of her fear and her reluctance. How she couldn’t bring herself to think of what a first step might be. What knowing him would do to her. How she understood that after just one touch, she would be his forever. How she kept herself at a distance, not ready for forever yet.

But oh, she had to be ready now, didn’t she?

Her kiss was a signal for Lucien to finally let go. He kissed her with tongue, diving and lapping at hers, showing her exactly what the promise of his body held. His mouth never left hers as he slid his fingers through her slit, picking up where she left off as he circled her clit until she clung to his shoulders, and he swallowed her cry of ecstasy while she climaxed against his hand.

As Elain came down from her high, the aching, desperate need was gone, satiated by Lucien’s expert fingers. But a new temptation cast a spell over her. She hooked her knees over Lucien’s hips, crossing her legs behind him as she pulled him flush against her sex. As Lucien tore his mouth away from hers, she chased after him with her tongue, swiping a lick over his teeth and lips. He dropped his face to the crook of her neck, inhaling with a deep sniff, before groaning and pulling his hips back. He reached a hand between them, lining his cock up at her entrance.

He didn’t push inside of her immediately, and Elain grew impatient with his hesitancy. She practically growled, tightening her legs around his ass and pushing him forward.

She only took moments to adjust before Lucien quickened his thrusts. They both knew this would be fast, neither of them considering taking it slow. This wasn’t about learning each other's bodies. This was about soothing a burn. Elain grabbed a fist full of Lucien’s hair, tugging him down so that he could kiss her again. She wanted him to fill her mouth as well as her pussy. He pounded into her, his hard, fast movements building her up again, this time to a peak fiercer and more dangerous. Elain realized she was meeting his thrusts too, jutting her hips forward so that her clit grinded against his pelvis. She forgot about being quiet, and as her orgasm crashed through her, the most feral wail rang out of her throat. Lucien groaned as he collapsed on top of her, chanting the word “Fuck” over and over into her ear.

Elain loosened the grip on his hair, running her hands over his scalp in a gentle caress. Her entire body tingled, a hazy, blissful fog making her forget that she and Lucien had barely spoken ten words to each other since they met. She cradled him, loving the way he felt still hard inside of her. Once the haze faded, she knew they were in for the most awkward pillow talk of all time. But for now, she basked in the moment, feeling whole inside her body for the first time.

Kiss prompts.

#elucien #elain archeron #elain x lucien #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien smut #kiss asks #ask games #okay but everyone should be proud of me #because i actually wrote a smut scene in 1500 words #i deserve an award

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mohavesun · 7 months

Text

You see his parked car as you enter the back door of the Pizzeria. It was unlocked, which is something you weren’t quite expecting. Mike must not have locked it yet. With a quick glance at your watch, you think of his shift. It’s just a few minutes after midnight, when his shift starts. He must be running slightly late, or perhaps he simply forgot to lock the door.  Either way, you pushed it open, the heaviness of the door creaking as you stepped inside. The hallways were lined with photos, posters, even drawings, and the smell? The smell was strange; It wasn’t exactly clean, but it was kind of a mixture of bleach and pizza layered with dust. He had gotten the job on a whim, in an old and decrepit pizza place. It certainly was weird, but Mike was desperate for a job. You held a bouquet of roses and sunflowers in one hand, and a box of homemade heart-shaped brownies in the other. Hopefully he remembered it was your 3 month anniversary.

(anyone else’s josh hutcherson obsession come back with the fnaf movie or is that just me)

contents/warnings: 18+!! nsfw, porn with a crumb of plot, overstimulation if you squint. reader is afab, no pronouns used, no use of y/n.

You weren’t sure how you ended up with the flowers and brownies on the floor of the security office, and you certainly weren’t sure how you ended up pressed against Mike in the storage closet.  You breathed slowly, steadying yourself.  Mike stood behind you in uncomfortable silence, awkwardly trying to move, causing something in the closet to shift, making a slight clanging noise.  “Mike!” You hissed between your teeth, urging him to stay still.  You were pressed against the door, your rear against his groin. The closet was full of useless tools and other miscellaneous objects, so full that you could barely fit with the tall man behind you.  

Leaving the closet wasn’t an option. You could hear the distant footsteps of an animatronic not too far from the door.  You held your breath, slightly shifting against him.  He inhaled sharply. “Don’t—“ He groaned, “Please, stop moving.” You whispered back, “If I stay pressed against this door, it’ll open, I have to!” You felt something poking your thigh, followed by Mike trying to shift backwards once again, but only making a vacuum nearly tip over. He grabbed it, his other hand on your lower waist, attempting to steady the both of you. 

“Michael!“ You whispered, stilling yourself as you heard footsteps growing closer.  You could barely breathe.  The footsteps were heavy and loud, thunder against the linoleum.  Your attention switched back to the poking sensation on your inner thigh. Almost as if on queue, Mike let out a soft exhale, a sigh on the brink of a whimper.  

With a rising heat in your stomach, you realized what was happening. You became suddenly and acutely aware of Mike’s hot breath against your neck. The footsteps slowly faded, thankfully, because you decided to crane your neck to look at the man behind you.  “What’s going on down there?“ You whisper teasingly.  Mike’s jaw clenched, his hands tensing on your waist. “Shit.” You slowly shifted your weight against him, pressing against the tent in his pants.  He bit his lip, closing his eyes, stifling a slight moan. “You’re doing this now?” “I really can’t think of a better time to do this,” you retorted, your hands drifting to his.  He pressed a long kiss into the corner of your mouth—it was all he could reach in the complicated position.  

“Is that why you wore that skirt I like so much, then?” Mike breathed, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck. “Exposing yourself for me?” You felt the rising sensation grow more intense, your legs shifting uncomfortably underneath you. You bit your lip as Michael’s hands found their way to your hips, slowly drifting lower onto your thighs, and hitching up your skirt.  

The stuffiness of the closet was almost unbearable. It was hot, the air was thick and heavy, almost as heavy as Mike’s breathing as he unbuckled his belt, letting it hang at his sides. He muttered under his breath. “We’re about to die anyways. Might as well come out and say it.”

You turned to look at him, only for his lips to crash onto your own. He muttered incomprehensible words between your lips, most of them curses. “God—Damn, you’re so…” He breathed heavily. “Fuck, fuck, I…” You palmed the erection in his jeans, feeling it throb under your hands.  Michael finally worked up the courage to say, “Fuck, I love you.” You stopped, and your boyfriend stared at you in almost disbelief. “You… Wait, what?” “I… Uh, sorry. It just came out, I…” Mike swallowed hard, moving his hands from your hips to buckle his belt again, figuring he just killed the mood.

“Michael,” You reached behind you, grabbing his hands and placing them on your thighs, “I love you.”

Mike’s breaths quickened, his mouth finding it’s way to the sweet spot on your neck. His left hand squeezed your thigh, the right one exploring your chest with a newfound velocity.  He mumbled words into your neck, “Fuck, I love you, I’ll show you how much I… God, you’re so…”

His hips bucked against your ass, grinding against you with ferocity you hadn’t seen in him. Wetness gathered between your thighs, spreading to his jeans, the friction nearly driving both of you insane.

It all came to halting standstill when his watch began beeping.  “It’s… It’s 6.” Mike huffed, his hands leaving your side and clicking his watch. “My shifts over.”  He buckled his belt with shakey hands, and you groaned. “Fuck.” You fixed your hair before exiting the closet.  Walking back to the office, where you stood a moment longer, you picked up the flowers. You turned, seeing Mike still eying you like prey. Hunger lingered in his gaze, his lips slightly parted as his eyes raked over your figure, before landing on your face. “Fuck it.” Mike breathed, taking off his belt, lifting you up and setting you on the table.  “Mikey—“ You yelped, silenced by his mouth on yours. His hands unbuttoned his pants, dropping them to just below his knees. His throbbing erection made your mouth water, the familiar heat in your core growing even hotter than before.  

Before you could even register what happened, he pushed your panties to the side and rubbed his tip against your slick, breathing almost feverishly. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and biting, murmuring some words into your skin.  “Michael! Mike—“ You groaned, biting back your cries (and failing miserably).  

He suddenly pushed as deep as he could inside of you, pulling out and thrusting again at a harsh and deep pace. He was far more excited than you had ever seen him.  Mike huffed into your neck, before slamming his face into yours. He moaned into your mouth, “I—Love you,” he groaned, slapping noises filling the office.

His pace grew sloppy, his hips stuttering against you and slapping against your inner thighs. It didn’t take long for you to reach your high, tightly clenching around him, causing him to choke on his words and gurgle some incomprehensible sentences. Your eyes screwed shut, letting out a shaky moan, you lost yourself in the pleasure rippling through your body, sweat covering every inch of your body.

Mike didn’t let up, still thrusting into you, chasing his own pleasure. “I—I love you. I love…” He interrupted his sentence with a moan, “Say my name. Please, tell me you love me,” He moaned again, his mouth sealing on your neck.  “Fuck—Fuck, Michael, I love you. I love you more than anything in the goddamn world, Mike, please, come for me, I love you—“  He a stuttering groan, he finally let himself loose, spilling inside of you, hips still thrusting to milk every drop out of him.

He slowly dragged his dick out of you, giving you one last sloppy kiss. “Oh, my god…” He whimpered, weakly pulling his underwear and jeans back up. “That was…” “Shit.” You breathed, wrapping your arms around him as your caught your breath. For a moment, he simply held you there, panting and trying to gain back a semblance of energy. Despite his scruff pricking against the side of your neck, you held him as well, taking in his sandalwood cologne and the smell of sex filling the air.

#mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader

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dazedvivenne · 4 months

Text

GULLIBLE - Kevin Khatchdourian

Short summary: Kevin convinces you to do the dirty with him by making up a lie.

Warning: Smut, mentions of a religious things, dirty things happen in a church, DUB-CON.

(It won’t let me add the photo so here’s a GIF)

The perfect balance to the point you only speak when your spoken to, he could picture himself with a girl as submissive as you. It confused him though, he never was really attracted to anyone before.

Of course there were girls at his school he wouldn’t mind fucking with a bag over there heads, but they were loose sluts that would throw themselves all over him.

But you… you were a Christian girl, which meant you couldn’t commit to such a sin. But Kevin doubted you even knew much about sex since of how innocent you looked.

Always wearing white clothes, either it be a white shirt with a long skirt or a pair of blue jeans or a white dress. You always wore a cross around your neck, he found it “cute” how you could worship someone you didn’t even know ever existed.

So much commitment for a man that may never respond, in a way it proved how dedicated you were to your religion.

Kevin watched as you walked through the church doors, wearing a floral jersey dress with a white cardigan over it. You dressed comfortably for the Sunday prays.

Kevin’s parents suggested he went to church with him on the weekends before, but he only started going when he realized you would he there. Now he was standing at the car with his parents and little sister Celia.

“I’m going to go inside.” Kevin spoke monotonously, not caring about his dad’s suggestions that they all walked into the church together.

Kevin’s slender legs made way to the church door, wearing a pair of navy suit pants with a black long sleeve with the sleeves rolled up, his veins visible as well as every muscle in his arms.

Kevin opened the door for himself, walking into the church, scanning it for you, once he saw you he went over to where you were sat with your family. “Hello.” Kevin said calmly, “Could I speak to you in private.” Kevin asked politely.

You looked at your family members for approval, once they looked okay with his proposition you nodded your head and stood up and followed Kevin.

Kevin walked you to the washroom, locking the door behind the two of you. “Take off your underwear.” Kevin demanded, he was surprised at himself for being so demanding.

Your face scrunched up, “No.” you simply said, of course you were not going to agree to lose your virginity in the church washroom.

Kevin thought for a moment, he quickly came up with an idea. “I had a dream, the lord was in it.” Kevin lied, of course you would never be able to tell since his voice and facial expressions were always so bland.

You stood there, looking up into Kevin’s dark eyes. “Go on.” You mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

Kevin sighed, “You were in my dream… the lord told me I needed to get you pregnant or Jesus will stop looking over the both of us.” Kevin continued on with his lie. Praying you were as gullible as he thought.

You stood there shocked, unfolding your arms. “Seriously? Right here?” You questioned Kevin. Pushing some of your hair out of your face.

“Yes. Don’t you feel something between us…? A connection.” Kevin responded, his black hair being a mess. You found it cute.

You thought about it for a moment, you’ve talked to Kevin a couple of times. Whenever you spoke to him you felt like he understood you, maybe it was because he agreed with everything you ever said to him.

“I do, but… shouldn’t we wait for marriage?” You wondered, this seemed all to overwhelming in this moment.

Kevin shook his head, “It has to be now, you have to give birth before next year.” Kevin insisted, he wondered if you were acting dumb or if you genuinely thought he was telling the truth.

You reluctantly nodded your head, biting your lower lip. “Well…” you slowly slide down your panties, the fabric sliding down your thighs until they dropped to the ground, you kicked them to the side.

Kevin couldn’t believe what he was seeing, you would actually believe Kevin’s lie?

Kevin got back into action, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” Kevin whispered into your ear, pushing your hips into the bathroom sink.

Sliding his pants down to his mid thigh, pulling his length out of his underwear. He softly wrapped his hand around your hair, pushing it out of the way and gently kissing your shoulders and neck.

Kevin bent you over the sink slightly, looking at your face through the mirror in front of you. You looked like you were enjoying this.

Kevin spit on his fingers, gathering his saliva on his two fingers. Lubing them up before sticking them into your vagina, slowly pulling them in and out.

You felt a slight burning sensation, it felt really pleasant though. You decided to enjoy this instead of having a fit about it.

“I’ll take care of you, darling.” Kevin husked, his voice deep and raspy. Whispering directly in your ear, nibbling on your lobe as he took his fingers out of your entrance.

Kevin lined himself up with your entrance, slightly jerking himself before slowly sliding himself inside of you. A sharp gasp slipping your mouth.

One of Kevin’s hands resting on your hip, gently massaging it. The other one covered your mouth as Kevin kissed the back of your neck. “You’rere so tight.” Kevin groaned.

Kevin slowly started to grind into you, hitting your g-spot you started to moan out loud. Good thing Kevin’s hand was muffling your moans. God he was going to hell for this.

“I want you to enjoy this as much as I do.” Kevin took his hand off of your mouth and brought it down to your clit, he slowly rubbed it in circles.

Lewd sounds coming from your mouth, moans, gasp, groans and whines all escaping from your pretty little mouth. Kevin only had a casually loud exhale, he wasn’t as vocal as you were.

Kevin started bucking his hips into you, loud slapping sounds now coming from the washroom. “Such a good girl.” Kevin praised you, still rubbing at your clit.

Kevin felt like he was about to come, “I’m close, sweetie.” Kevin warned you, quickening his pace.

You felt Kevin’s dick twitch inside of you, then a warm liquid cover your walls. You felt a warm feeling in your stomach as your whole body vibrated for a moment, reaching your orgasm.

Kevin saw your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth open with a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Kevin slowly pulled out with a slight whine escaping his mouth, his tip very sensitive. Kevin watched as he come dripped out of you. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your labia and vagina.

Kevin stuffed the piece of toilet paper in his pocket as he pulled up his pants. Once he was no longer exposed you turned around.

Your legs shaking as you picked up your underwear and put it back on. “I’ll let you know when I start to see some results.” You told Kevin.

Kevin nodded his head, watching as you left the washroom, he looked on the ground and saw some blood. He chuckled and left the washroom as well, of course you were a virgin.

Can someone please help me with the photo thing?

#kevin khatchadourian #ezra miller #we need to talk about kevin #smut

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swabsandcream · 11 months

Text

No Ordinary Fan [Part 1]

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N finally gets to meet her favorite actor of all time, but something about her manages to grasp the successful actor’s attention.

AN: Jeffrey is portrayed as a single man in this fic.

“Okay. You got this. You’re going to go in there and look him dead in the eye as if he’s not the man of your dreams. I can’t fucking believe this is happening.” Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, undressed with only a towel to cover her as she gave herself a pep-talk. After being a fan of JDM for many years, she had finally been given the opportunity to interact with the actor at a meet and greet taking place in her city. This is something she had been looking forward to for weeks, but once the day finally came, she was overcome with anxiousness.

Once Y/N had finished her little speech, she stepped out of her bathroom and back into her room to get dressed. She already had the clothes she intended to wear laid out on her bed along with her accessories. It was a casual outfit, because she wasn’t the type to ‘dress up’ even if it was to meet her longtime crush. She figured that this was the perfect time to show off her t-shirt she had purchased from The Walking Dead merchandise store and her pants were regular blue jeans. Her accessories were also merch pieces dedicated to the popular tv show, but her most favorite were the hook earrings that resembled Negan’s bat she managed to find on Etsy. It only took a couple of minutes for her to be fully dressed, and now monitoring the time as she decided to put on a little makeup right before she heads out. In an effort to make it to the event on time, she quickly finished up and grabbed her things to leave, including the two Negan posters she wanted him to sign for her.

After rushing out of the house and spending a little over a half hour in aggravating traffic, she had finally made it to the building where the meet and greet was taking place. Her heart was racing as she made her way inside, still partly in disbelief about what was going to happen in a matter of minutes. Once she got inside, she went through the motions of gaining entry and was sent to stand in line with the rest of the fans. She made it relatively early, so the line was short enough to where she could see him sitting behind a table and interacting with a fan. Her composure began to unravel as she watched him speak from afar and tuning everything else around her completely out in the process.

Oh my God he looks so much better in person. His slicked back brown hair, salt and pepper beard, and don’t get me started about that smile. Y/N fangirled away in her head as the line grew shorter, and her excitement became more prevalent. Before she knew it, she was next in line behind the person that was standing in front of her. The man she had only fantasized about in her spare time, the one she referred to as her husband on social media, the Jeffrey Dean Morgan was sitting right there. She kept her eyes on him as she patiently waited her turn, and for a second, she could’ve sworn that he had glanced over at her a few times as he was speaking to the other fan. A few minutes later, the fan’s time was up, and it was now Y/N’s turn to introduce herself for the very first time. She took a deep breath and put a smile on her face as she stepped forward, stopping in front of the table directly in front of him. Her ability to speak had been halted for unknown reasons, but still wore a big smile on her face.

“Well, hello there. What’s your name sweetheart?” His voice was deep and husky, on top of the nickname he called her, was gratifying all on its own. She realized she had been quiet for a little bit too long and snapped herself back into reality.

“I’m sorry, I’m- uh...my name is Y/N. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize Y/N. That is such a lovely name for a beautiful young lady such as yourself.” He spoke to her softly, giving her that killer smile of his. It was almost like he knew that he had a strong effect on her and used it to his advantage.

“Thank you. I’m such a huge fan and I love all your work.” She tried not to sound too cheerful, keeping her tone as neutral as possible.

“Is that right?” He let his eyes wander up and down her body. “I see you got a TWD shirt, very nice. But is that what I think it is?” He brought his hands up to his ears and pinched his earlobes, indicating to Y/N that he is inquiring about her earrings.

“Oh! They’re Lucille earrings, I found them online.” She moved her hand behind her ear to push the jewelry forward, giving Jeffrey a better look.

“That’s fucking awesome. I can’t really see them from down here though, come closer so I can see them better.” He leaned forward onto the table, using his arms to support him as Y/N bent down to get closer to him. She was now at the same level he was as he remained in his chair, allowing him to touch the hooked earring in her left ear. He then let go of the earring and moved his face much closer to hers, putting his lips up to her ear.

“I’ve had my eye on you ever since you came in here.” Y/N audibly gasped, remaining still as he continued to whisper in her ear. “I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s ok with you.” He promptly moved back from Y/N, awaiting a response as she slowly brought herself up from the table.

She had a hard time grasping what she had just heard. He very clearly just told her that she caught his interest, and she still felt as if all this was some kind of fever dream. She turned around to see a line of people behind her, all of them being completely clueless about what was going on at that moment. The sound of the actor clearing his throat made her turn back around, seeing him tap his wrist as an indication that they were running out of time.

“Ok, yes. But how exactly are we supposed to do this?” She was whispering to prevent the people around them from hearing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and slid the phone over to her on the table. He wanted her phone number, so she quickly put it in his phone and saved it under her name. She slid the phone back to him and he put it back into his pocket. Seeing that it was time to say farewell, he reached out and grabbed one of Y/N’s soft hands, giving her one last look with his lustrous, hazel eyes.

“It’s been really nice meeting you Y/N, and I hope to see you again very soon.” He brought his voice down to a whisper, “and I’ll call you as soon as I’m done here, okay?”

Y/N nodded her head in compliance, hanging on by a thread at the sight of him holding then releasing her hands from his grip. She waved goodbye to her idol as the event coordinator escorted her away. She wanted to make sure that she wasn’t certifiable, and that his entire experience wasn’t all in her head. She pinched herself, gave herself a light smack on the face, and even asked the coordinator if she was dreaming. It all appeared to be happening in real time, and she was going to have a chance to get close to someone she once referred to as her baby daddy.

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Tag: @artistinyou2

#jeffrey dean morgan #jeffreydeanmorgan #jdm #jdm x reader #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction #female reader

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yagirlwrites · 1 year

Text

(Not) My Baby (3)

Pairing: college! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsys: Rafe struggles to explain himself and Y/N struggles to deal with the situation he put her in. Her best friend is there to comfort her in the aftermath.

Warnings: Angst

A/N: Hi y'all! I'm so sorry this took so damn long to update! I hope it's enjoyable enough and people still care about this little story! I do intend to write this series out completely, I have not given up on it! But life be a bitch and I be busy, unfortunately. I hope y'all like this part and as always let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated (but reblogs are welcome).

Happy reading! 🥰

(Not) My Baby (Part 3)

Stella walked through the door after a long afternoon of classes, ready to plop down on the couch and chill hard. Walking into the livingroom she greeted out a cheery "Honey, I'm home!" followed by a chuckle. She expected to be welcomed with an eyeroll from /Y/N or a silly comment from Lena but she was met with silence.

Y/N was sitting on the couch - a melted pint of Ben & Jerry's on the table, seemingly untouched - staring at the TV screen with a far away look in her eye. She hadn't even noticed Stella's arrival.

"Peach?" Stella's voice was quiet, catious, unsure of what was going on. Her worry only grew once she realized Y/N still wasn't acknowledging her. She approached her gently, laying an uncertain hand on her shoulder and calling her name again.

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts with a start, confused and disoriented for a few seconds untill she realized who was touching her and where she was. The darkness was slowly setting in outside, accompanied by the twinkling of lights. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, staring at nothing.

"Are you okay, Peach?" She finally met Stella's eye and shook off her haze.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Pumpkin" she replied with a small smile.

Their nicknames for each other had been a staple of their friendship since freshman year. That first semester, the dorm they had shared had been a mess. The mysterious stench that could never be placed constantly plaguing them. They were forced to light scented candles to neutralize it. Y/N's favourite was the Peach scented one her mother made for her before she left for college. Stella's choice was always Pumpkin Spice, no matter what the season was. One day the nicknames came up and they hadn't left them since. The memory always made her smile.

"You don't seem okay." Her friend wore a concerned look and she sighed. She didn't even know how to begin to explain to her what was wrong. Physically she had been on that couch for hours, but her mind was still at the sandwich bar... with him.

"Something weird happened today..." She started talking, hoping that if she managed to explain it to Stella she might start to make sense of it herself.

-----

"Are you gonna say something?" His voice broke her staredown with the glass of water on the table in front of her. She hadn't moved a muscle for several minutes, trying and failing to process his words.

His family thought they were a couple. And it was because of him. He told a boldfaced lie and implicated her in it. How the hell does she react to that?

"Why?" Her voice startled him when she finaly spoke. He was freaking out big time. How the hell could he explain it without sounding like a dick? He couldn't. If she didn't before, she will definitely hate him now.

"I -" he trailed off, not being able to meet her eye. The words weren't coming no matter how hard he willed them to. Just say something, idiot!

Her focus was on him again and he didn't know if that freaked him out more or less than her disasociation from earlier. She was staring. Waiting. He wasn't even sure she was blinking. He tried wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, but it didn't help.

"My family..." he looked up at her, making sure she was still listening and not getting ready to run.

"My family is complicated. I've been dodging the talk about girlfriends and relationships for as long as I could... But then they started pestering me about this wedding and my stepmom was talking about these different girls" he scoffed "options, she called them. Options for dates for the wedding. And I tried, I really tried to get them to drop it but then my dad got angry because I wasn't taking things seriously and he started going on about how immature I am that I can't even have a single relationship work and how embarrasing it is having to set me up with these dates and I just -"

He had been speaking so fast she was struggling to keep up, the story spilling from his lips as if he had been holding it in for ages. She supposed he had. The way he made his family sound was making her skin crawl.

"I just cracked." His eyes were glossy, and if she didn't know any better she'd think he was on the verge of tears.

"I told them I have a girlfriend." He took a big gulp of his sweet tea, trying to calm his skipping heart. He felt ill, like he was going to pass out from telling her all of this. But she gave him no choice.

"Okay..." she broke the silence when it became clear he wasn't going to continue. He still hadn't explained why she was involved and that's exacly what she told him. He was playing with his hands on the table again, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his brow. He looked rough.

"Once I said it, I couldn't take it back. But then they started demanding to know 'who she was' and 'why I hadn't told them' and 'how long we've been together' and they kept-" he closed his eyes then.

"They kept asking : 'Whats her name? Who is it?' over and over and I just... your name slipped out."

----

"He what?!" Stella had been listening to the story with bathed breath untill that moment. Y/N sighed and repeated herself.

"He told them we're together..." Her hands met her face as she exhaled. This was not helping at all. She supposed it was wishful thinking that it might.

"What the fuck?" Stella took a large sip from her wine glass - having at some point during the recounting of Y/N's day decided she needed to pour them both a drink.

"Exactly." Y/N leaned her head back over the couch and closed her eyes, trying and failing to push away the oncoming headache. She could feel the pulsing in her ears. This was a mess. She had no clue what to do about it. So she took another sip of the Pinot.

"So what did you say?" Stella was holding onto the wine glass with an iron grip, the situation making every nerve in her body buzz with anticipation and trepidation. Completely bewildered but secretly loving the drama.

She had always thought the two had a weird relationship. Even though her friend would kill her if she knew she thought of the word 'relationship' pertaining to them in the first place. She knew he had left a mark on the girl, having witnessed the way they acted around each other. He pushed all her buttons and Y/N never hesitated to throw back what she got. But Stella never knew the full extent of it and she wondered if this was a blessing or a curse.

On the one hand, there was always an insane ammount of sexual tension between Y/N and Rafe. Everyone thought so but no one dared say it, not willing to risk life and limb from the pair. Maybe this could be what tips over the glass and they finally resolve whatever is going on between them. Or, more likely, it would end in blood and tears. It was one of the two, Stella was sure of it.

"I don't know..." Y/N trailed off, looking awkward as hell.

"You don't know what you said?" Stella was looking at her with disbelief. What did that even mean?

"I just... I freaked out. Okay?" Y/N's voice held a note of panic and embarrassment and Stella could not help herself, leaning over, now on the edge of her seat.

"Freaked out how?"

----

"What do you mean 'my name slipped out'?" Her voice was incredulous. He'd put her in a terrible position without a second thought. It made her cheeks flush with anger again.

"It just slipped out, okay? I didn't plan it. It just happened!" He was tripping over his words with how fast he was talking. It felt like everything was falling appart and he had no idea how to fix it. If he even could anymore.

Y/N was shaking her head, eyes wide as the realisation of exactly what he had done finally sunk in. And then she lost the plot a little bit, she'll admit.

"I'm sorry. Okay? I never meant for it to happen. But then once it was out there I couldn't take it back. I couldn't tell them I lied! My dad would never let me live it down, he'd never let me forget..." He trailed off from his rambling then.

As he had been speaking, Y/N had reached over and grabbed the sandwich off his plate and was currently munching down on it, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Did you just... take my sandwich?" He didn't even mean to speek, the bizzarity of the situation just making his words slip out. She looked at him then and there was a spark of anger in her eyes that made him gulp.

"Yeah... yeah! I did take your sandwich." She took another bite, maintaining eye contact. She knew it was childish but she'd be damned if she apologized now.

"I eat when I'm stressed. This is making me very stressed." She spoke as she grabbed his tea and then proceeded to down half of it. He was completely bewildered at what was happening.

"That's..." he trailed off, trying to move on from this weird moment, while she chewed on his lunch.

"Look it - it doesn't matter. If you could just see it from my perspective you'd understand-"

"Understand what?" She interrupted, voice eerily cold. "Understand that after being a dick to me for years, you decided to involve me in your family drama that has nothing to do with me? To lie about us being a couple? Not only that but you expect me to help you keep up the lie!? Go to a wedding? Are you actually insane?"

She was getting angrier by the second. How dare he? After everything, after how he treated her... to go and pull something like this? It was unbelievable. Selfish. Egoistic. So very him, after all. She scoffed at the realisation.

"You know what?" He was looking at her with big pleading eyes as she stood from her seat.

"I don't need this." She grabbed her stuff and made to leave.

"Please, Y/N!" His hand wrapped around her wrist again and she saw red.

"Take your fucking hand off me." He raised his hands up in surrender, fear in his eyes. He had really fucked this up big time. He didn't even know why he thought this would go any differently.

"Please..." His pleading voice and those big eyes made a funny feeling she couldn't decipher blossom in her stomach. She was frozen in place.

"Please, just think about it? Please?" Her face softened some at his pathetic state. Why was this act pulling on her heartstrings?

"I - I need you." He was fighting so hard not to touch her, to pull her to him and beg her. He was so close to getting down on his knees when she spoke.

"Fine. I'll think about it." Her words were quiet and for a moment he thought he imagined them, but the sincere look in her eyes made him realize it was true. He didn't expect that.

She didn't expect that. She couldn't believe she folded like that. As soon as he brought out the sad eyes she was acting like a fucking idiot. She wanted to slap herself but instead she settled for turning and walking away from him. Angry. Sad. More confused than she'd ever been in her life.

----

Stella was sitting there, mouth agape. Y/N finally stopped avoiding her eyes and looked at her friend. She wanted to disappear. For the ground to swallow her up. She felt so drained and lost and now, once again, embarrassed.

"You stole his sandwich?" Stella was visibly holding back a laugh and Y/N couldn't stop the eye roll. Of course she would focus on that.

"Piss off." She got up to put her glass in the sink, trying to settle her heart from reliving the day. Stella followed, completely unphased by the girl snapping at her.

"Okay, so what are you gonna do?" Y/N took a deep breath and looked at her friend. Stella finally realized how tired Y/N looked and that it was probably taking a lot more out of her than she had picked up on. She got lost in the drama of it all but her friend was really stressed.

"You know what? We can worry about that tomorrow. Okay?" Y/N let out a breath of relief, even if it was a small one.

"What do you say we get into your bed and put on netflix, like we used to?" Y/N gave a small smile and a nod at that and Stella wrapped her arm around her, leading them towards her room. "I'll heat up the leftovers from last night and we can cozy up, yeah?"

Y/N agreed. Even thought she had planned to make a nice dinner tonight she knew she had no energy. Yet another thing Rafe had ruined today. Left over cheesy pasta would have to take on the difficult job of trying to soothe her. She knew it wouldn't succeed though. It couldn't possibly. She was fucked on so many levels and she had no idea how to move forward.

But for tonight, it didn't matter. Simon Bassett and his dreamy forearms were the only thing she needed to focus on tonight. That and the feel of her friend holding her in a comforting embrace, making her smile. She was glad to have Stella by her side, no matter what. And before she drifted into dream land, she realised that as long as she had her friends she would be just fine. She always was. Rafe couldn't ruin that.

---

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @r0und3bitch @tee-swizzle @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @goldenjo @kanib45 @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @cmac-writes @malfoytargaryen @alinaharlow @buggy-d-chopper @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife

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heliosthegriffin · 8 months

Text

Shadow Knight, and the Magical Girls IV

Chapter Four

Jaune was naked he realized. He also didn't know where he was. Only that he had a very thin sheet covering his remaining decency. This was not a first, however.

Waking up in a unknown location that is. He had made a habit of not dying, and that happened to lead him to going around in a fugue of blood-lost a lot times, collapsing, waking up, and getting back to it.

Waking up in somebody's house? That was new. Nobody had brought him home before.

He paused.

Phrasing.

Nobody had taken his unconscious body into they're house, and stripped him naked before.

He paused.

Phrasing.

He was not making this sound better.

Alright, he got it, nobody had stitched him up this good before, he hardly even noticed them, it was nice.

Still, he looked around for his clothes.

And, more importantly, his gear. He couldn't get back out there empty handed, he had tried that before, and it did not work well.

Getting off the table, he wore the sheet like a robe, not that it covered much, in fact, he felt more indecent wearing the sheer material over his body than if he were to walk around naked.

Standing up, he did check up and once over, finding a mirror against the wall, examining his status.

Well, he wasn't going to win Mr. Vale this year, it seems. Or any year, but at least his face was mostly untouched, other than a couple bruises from the explosion.

Explosion? Oh, yeah. That did happen, wow, that was crazy. How did that happen, was it a gas leak or...

Those Girls, with they're powers? Those Magical Girls. Why did they blow up a freaking street?

Were they insane?

Jaune thought about that, and nodded.

So, beside Shadow-Monsters that live underground, there were also super-powered crazy girls flying around at night.

He felt he could safely rule out this being a Government experiment now, and felt he could safely move to alien invasion next.

And, if this is an alien invasion, they're doing a terrible job.

Just release a dna-altering virus and be done with it.

Maybe, just maybe, just because Aliens discovered FTL travel didn't make them anymore intelligent than them, it could easily be like a dog falling into the drivers seat and accidentally starting the car.

Jaune shook his shaggy hair, enough musing, he decided. He needed to leave, he had no idea how long he was out for, but he needed to get back out there, the longer he waited, the more people would suffer.

"Holy-, Amber! He actually woke up! We didn't kill him!" A voice spoke then paused, and Jaune felt himself being looked at. "Oh! Also, he's gorgeous when he's not bleeding out!" A unfamiliar voice-, no wait, he heard it briefly earlier, spoke from behind him.

Turning around, he saw her, a woman of average height and build, coming out of the bathroom. Her hair short and close-cropped, with a brown-black hair, and large, pale blue eyes who looked at him curiously.

She dressed loosely, wearing blue hot-pants, and a white tank-top, revealing she had a sleeve of tattoos on either arms. She smiled at him, and Jaune felt a sense of danger from her, as he took her measure, noticing while she was average height and build, she was tightly muscled and lean.

Like a fighter.

"Hey, ease up, tiger." She called out nonchalantly. "I don't bite, not unless you ask nicely." She teased him.

Jaune took a step back, whole body tensing up, he did not like this. He was at the disadvantage here.

"Who are you?" Jaune asked bluntly, feeling the world narrow on to her, studying her like a frog on the lab table, looking at her stance, breathing rate, eye dilation, and a hundred other little things that might suggest that she was dangerous.

"Gee," She blushed. "Don't go looking at me like your about to eat me up," She paused and looked away. "Vernal, Vernal Mayday." Something clicked in her head. "Wait, you're legal right? I mean you're built like a statue, but you look kind of young, oh shit, you're not. I've been coming onto a minor."

"I'm 17," Jaune admitted. "So, yeah. I'd appreciate it if you would stop."

"Yeah, I'll get back to you in like year, cool?" She said weakly. "Unless...?"

"No. Uh, no. Sorry. I kind of have a whole, wait, I don't need to explain myself." Jaune said half to Vernal, and half to himself. "So, how'd I get here, and where is my stuff."

Vernal opened her mouth to explain, but turned her head seeing something. "I'll let amber explain. So, sit down for a second, it won't kill you."

Jaune sighed, doing as he was told. "Could I have my pants back?"

Vernal gave a awkward smile. "Sorry, uh, we kind of cut them off of you to get you fixed up."

"Oh." Jaune said sadly. "Thanks. So, it was you that fixed me up?"

She nods, taking a seat across from him, holding a cup of coffee. "Amber and I, speaking of which-"

Jaune saw a door open, and a pretty brown-skinned girl make her way towards him in a way that he found reminiscent of his older sisters. "Thanks the Brothers!" Then she wrapped her arms around his neck. "We thought you weren't going to make it a couple times last night!"

Jaune hadn't been hugged in a long-time, not since he had started making it his life's work to fight against the Shadow Monsters. He had put up barriers between himself and everyone, family included.

It might have been selfish to isolate himself, but if he died out there, he didn't want anybody to be sad when it happens.

So, he felt very surprised to be hugged by a pretty girl he hardly knew.

He opted to pat her bat half-heartedly.

Then he looked at the clock. It was morning, if barely.

Well, the Shadow-Monsters would be retreating now anyway, so he didn't have anywhere to be yet.

Then she pulled back. "First off, thank you. Second off, what the hell was all that last night?!" She asked grabbing his shoulders.

"Yeah, Amb's was up in arms about giant scorpions or something, and then you show up, Mr. Knight. I've heard about you, uh, that's why I hit on you, I thought you were a bit older... Anyway, whats up with your one man-crusade." Vernal looked at him from behind her coffee.

Jaune gulped. Then he sighed. Then he looked them both in eyes one after the other.

"I'll do my best, but first, I need something to eat." His stomach backed his claim with a growl. "Second, I'd like some pants." Amber took a look down at his barely-covered body and blushed, backing away slowly. "Third and finally, I don't have all the answers myself, so if I miss something, it's not because I not telling you, it's because I don't know. So, are you sure you want to know? Something knowing the truth is scarier than knowing nothing at all."

Amber looked to Vernal, who looked back with a nod.

"I want to know."

"Same."

Jaune took in a breath, clearing his lungs. "Well, it started last year, in the my sophomore year of high-school,-

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Ruby waited in front of the school as the sun rose. She let out a yawn that wouldn't be out of place on a puppy, and stun-locked anybody who might have seen it out of cuteness.

She never got up this early! School didn't start till 9am, so most days she slept until 8:50 and then rushed to school! But, today was different, today was the first day of the rest of her life with Jaune!

Ruby blushed.

Phrasing.

As Best Friends Forever, that is, and totally wasn't waiting on him because, she didn't have his number, and wanted to ask him to be her bodyguard this afternoon, so she could pick up almost-illegal smut.

She definitely wasn't doing that.

"Morning, Ruby." Came a kind voice, that nearly made her jump out of her skin.

Coming up jogging next to her was her other BFF, Pyrrha, who glistened with a sheen of sweat, that drew attention showing off her toned, flat stomach, as she was currently in her jogging outfit, which consisted of a deep-red sports bra and athletic shorts.

Many boys, and girls, had dared waking up before school to catch a glimpse of her in the state, though none actually had the courage to go talk to her.

Nobody wanted to get on the bad side of the champion of Mistral Junior Historical Martial Tournament, 4 years running, and idol in her own right, Pyrrha Nikos.

Ruby clutched her chest. "You half-scared me to death!"

Pyrrha giggled. "I'm sorry. Anyway, what are you doing here so early? Did you forget something? School doesn't open for another hour, you know?"

Ruby's eye drifted away. "Uh, you know, just waiting to get some good ol' education! Can't wait for school!"

Pyrrha raised a eyebrow. "Is that so, Ruby? In that case, I can quiz you over yesterdays classes while we go on a short 10k jog."

Ruby paled. "I'm good!"

"So, what are you really here for?"

Ruby shyly looked at the ground. "Jaune."

"Really?" She looks around. "Where is he?"

"Not here."

"What time does he get here?"

"I don't know." Ruby pouted. "I don't even know where he lives! Nobody would tell me!"

"Who did you ask?"

"Yang, Weiss, Blake, Myself, CCT..."

"I'm sorry, I don't know either."

"Not that you could find that out just, by asking around," Came a strict voice that made both stand ram-rod straight. "The Arc's are notoriously private, and live on the edge of town." Ms. Goodwitch, the disciplinary of Beacon and Deputy Head-Mistress.

At least in public spheres, beyond that, she was also a master of supernatural art of Aura, and lead trainer for the current generation of the defenders of Light.

Also known as, Magical Girls.

"They're also know for being trigger happy, so don't go intruding on they're compound." The Head-Mistress added idly.

"You mean house, right?" Pyrrha asked weakly.

Ms. Goodwitch fixed her glasses. "No, no, I don't. Though," She looked at the two girls. "You two shouldn't worry about that." They're was a certain glimmer in her eyes.

"That said, why the interest in Mr. Arc, Miss Rose? Has he acted in a manner untoward to you? If you desire it, I could have him expelled by this afternoon."

"No! He's great!" Ruby said in a panic.

"Yes, he's been nothing, but a gentleman to her," Pyrrha added hastily.

"I merely was joking, Mr. Arc isn't a bad boy despite his image. It's good to know he's finally reconnecting to people, again. That said, you won't find him this early, he's made a bad habit of arriving just as the bell rings, the sheer about of tardys he should have would have gotten anyone else expelled, if not for the cowardice of the teachers at this academy. I wouldn't expect to see him at earliest for an hour or more."

Ruby dropped to her knees in sorrow. "That means," She pauses. "I got early for no reason!"

Ms. Goodwitch smiled at her, but there was certain evil to it that made Ruby shiver. "I wouldn't say that, in fact that means we have time to train away any," She pause with a grin. "Any flaws in your 'skills' miss Rose."

Pyrrha gave her a sympathetic smile.

"And, you too, of course Ms. Nikos." The teacher turned to her with a smile.

Pyrrha smiles falsely, shuttering internally.

"Though, I'd like to ask a favor, though. When you find Mr. Arc, direct him to me, I need to have a conversation with him."

"Really? About what?" Ruby asks.

"His grades, Ms. Rose. They have slipped well below Beacon's standards, and we need to address this, or he will have to leave the school." "What!? Oh man," She turned to Pyrrha. "What do we do, Pyrrha? We're going to lose our new BFF!"

Pyrrha kept up her fake smile. "It's fine Ruby, we can help him out, and soon enough, it won't be a problem." Though she was calm, Pyrrha also felt worry. Jaune was the first excitement she had felt in her civilian life in years, losing him would be terrible.

Ms. Goodwitch gave them a pleasant smile. "I am proud to see the camaraderie in between you two and your fellow students, hopefully this will be a good influence on your fellows." Then a faint purple glow surrounded the two girls, forcing them to walk forward. "Now, lets us get some training done with the time we have."

Internally Pyrrha and Ruby screamed.

----

At some point during his story, Jaune had acquire a fluffy pink bathrobe and some athletic shorts that one of Amber's previous boyfriends had forgotten.

He hadn't bothered to tie the robe shut, leaving his scarred and muscular chest out to the air, if one looked to the side, they could see stitches going up his sides and the angry red-pink flesh under it.

In front of him was a empty plate covered in grease stains, and another, and another. He was a monster, he had eaten everything in they're refrigerator over the course of his story, it was horrifying, and not a speck on him.

Still, Vernal had to admit, it was a attractive quality in a way, a strong body needed a lot of fuel, it just another way of showing strength. Still, he was buying them grocery's.

"Monsters are real. I go out at night and fight them, also they're some sort of gang of super-powered girls blowing up things. I have no idea why, and they're probably a conspiracy to prevent this knowledge from getting out, as no information exist on these things. The End." Jaune finished, summing up his tale.

"Wow, that's crazy." Vernal added.

"Yes. It's also true."

Amber was staring into her coffee. "So, huh, yeah. I don't really have a response for all that."

"Don't need one." Jaune drained a glass of water. "You have the knowledge now, it's up to you how your use it. You saw it with your own eyes, it's up to you to do ignore it, or seek it."

Jaune looked at the time. He was late for school. He shrugged, not like he actually accomplished anything there, maybe it was time to drop out? Not like he was going to graduate, much less, make it through the year.

It wouldn't hurt for him to skip a day, he had done so before after particularly bad hunts. But, he probably should get home, but how was he going to bring his tools back with him, his clothes were shredded?

Jaune sighed. He needed more caches.

"Alright, I'm in." Amber said suddenly.

"What?" Jaune said with all the warmth of the hadal zone. "Excuse me, but I wasn't making a recruitment pitch. I was just giving you answers, to make sure you're careful, not to come and help me."

Amber frowned. "I wasn't asking."

Vernal raised her mug. "Me too, then."

Jaune looked at them bewildered. "I tell you monsters are real, and your first response is, 'I'm in?' What's wrong with you, two?"

Vernal grinned. "Same thing as you, I suppose."

"You can't expect to tell people to do as I say, not as I do, can you?" Amber added. "Look, I'm not saying I want to go out and be a street-warrior like you, but you clearly need help, you're in over your head, and the fact you're alive is a miracle that only the Brothers could make happen."

Jaune had no response for that.

"I'm saying, we're going to help you from now, we can't have The Shadow Knight going around dying from blood lost, can we?" Amber continued.

"Fair point. Also, please don't tell anyone, I don't want to get locked up." Or break out of jail, Jaune thought.

"No problem, and I don't think most people are eager to find-out that they're vigilante hero is a teenager." Vernal added.

Jaune leaned back in his seat, and got up. "I guess, I should get going, I'll be back for my stuff later. I'll bring over some notes later, maybe you two can figure out something I haven't."

"What do you mean, leaving? You are need rest." Amber said firmly.

Jaune looked at the clock. "Un, I have school?" He lied about his intentions.

Amber handed him a slip of paper. "Now you don't, you have a doctor's note, now go sleep on that couch."

Jaune nodded meekly, and within minutes he was in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Vernal and Amber watched him sleep for a moment.

"So, we're helping him now?" Vernal ventured, not against the idea.

"Yep," Amber added. "I mean, think about it, Vern. We can't get clearer sign then this. For so long, we've tried to get out of the 'life', and now a bonafided hero drops in our laps, if that not a sign, I don't know what is." Amber bit her lip. "But, I do know, if we want to be better people, we gotta help him."

Vernal laughter. "A underground doctor for the Xiong family, and A ex Branwen tattoo artist want to be the good guys now? Well, sure why not?" She grinned ruefully. "If we want to wipe our sins away, I don't see a better shot."

"Yeah, me, neither."

In his sleep, Jaune stirred, briefly, as though internally accepting they're pledges of loyalty. Not that he wanted that responsibility, not in any number of years.

His life was stressful enough, the idea of being responsible beyond what he already did was way too draining.

----

Ruby stormed over to the table. "He skipped school!" Ruby bellowed at her pals, who took her storming over in the same way one did to a toddler fighting them with a foam sword.

With barely held back giggles. Ruby was far too ... Ruby to be make anyone shake in fear.

"Is that so?" Weiss said with faux-curiosity. "Well, guess we won't be seeing much more of him then. It's obvious that he doesn't take school seriously enough to be worth our time."

Yang leaned back, shirt stressing against her ample chest. "In other words you can't stand him standing us up?"

"That is not what I said!" Weiss huffed. "Why not ask that fool's friends?" She jerked a thumb toward a solitary table with two pretty girls sitting by themselves, with only one doing any talking.

But to be fair, she was doing enough talking for ten, and the other was doing enough listening for any 3 letter agency.

Ruby paused. "He has friends?" She then corrected. "Besides me, you guys that is. Jaune is. My BFF. Your guys too, so that makes them my BFFS too, and-"

"Ruby." Blake said politely. "Turn your mouth off before you burn your brain out."

Ow. "I resemble that remark." Ruby said glumly. "Anyway, how'd you know that he friends before me?" Ruby looked at Weiss with narrowed eyes of suspicion.

Weiss casually pulled out a stack of documents. "Please, the Schnees have eyes everywhere."

"Expect to ethics." Blake added.

Weiss growled. "Not now, Blake."

"Or your father to what your mother gets up to in her spare time."

"Last warning." Blue flames briefly shot from the pale heiress's eyes.

Blake smirked and went back to reading.

Weiss, though, took that as a victory, and went back to haughtily presenting information to Ruby.

"Weiss ..." Ruby said quietly. "I think it's cool if you have a crush on Jaune, but stalking him isn't the right way to go about it." She looked at Weiss with eyes full of pity.

"I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON JAUNE ARC!" Weiss bellowed, face red and breathing heavily.

"Classic tsundere." Blake said to Yang.

"I know right?" Yang nodded, turning to Ruby. "Poor girl is down bad." Her sister nodding along, with Ruby put a hand on her friend shoulder, and gave her a thumbs up. "You have my full support, bestie. Oh, this means you get to be my bestie in law and Jaune too!" She turned to look for him. "Congrats, Jaune! Oh right, he's not here." She then pouted.

"What do you think Pyrrha?" "Oh, me?" Pyrrha said looking up from her studying. "Hmm. I don't approve of stalking." Internally, she mused. 'She can have her turn when I'm done.'

The cafeteria was quiet in awe, Jaune Arc was barely above scum in the school, but internally they're respect for him grew three-sizes that day, for he pulled a Schnee.

To him they all thought, 'Mad respect, bro, mad respect.'

Weiss screamed and then stormed away in a flash of anger, no one questioned it, assuming it some-sort of Tsundere quirk.

"Poor girl, can't take her own feelings." Ruby said with pity. "Well, guess I'll go ask them about Jaune, maybe they can explain why he decided he wanted to be a dirty, selfish, skipper of school and classes, who is a meanie jerkface."

"Wow, Ruby. I didn't think you could be so foul-mouthed." Yang teased lightly.

"Well, that's just how I feel, ok?" Ruby pouted, once again not understanding sarcasm. "I'm sorry that got so caught up in my emtions."

"It's fine," Yang waved her off, and standing up. "Lets go fine out what his friends know."

The remaining girls then walked over to the ginger and raven haired girls.

"So, that's why I think Spruce Trellis is a alien from the planet hidden from us by the Authority." Ginger girl said with utter confidence.

The black-haired girl merely nodded, then turned to them. "Hello, what do you need?" She added bluntly.

"I didn't do it." The ginger added.

"We haven't even asked anything, yet." Yang said.

"You got nothing, and you will never have nothin." The ginger continued, then leaned back, crossing her arms.

"My apologies for her behavior." The black-haired one said. "Can we help you?"

Ruby put her hands on the table. "Where is Jaune Arc?" She said bluntly.

The red-head picked up a butter-knife, waving it threatening it dangerously at Ruby. "You got nothing on us! He didn't do it! I have his alibi, He's a gentle soul! I trust him with my life, I'd have his baby's if Ren wasn't here! Jaune would never kill anybody who didn't deserve it! That's it!" She jumped on the table. "They're on to him, Ren! We got to protect him!" She then tried to jump at the girls, only for the other girl to grab her by the shirt and put her back down on the seats.

Ren shrugged, passing off that moment of insanity as if nothing had happened. "My apologies, but we haven't seen Jaune today, is something the matter?" Ren asked politely, but all the girls felt they're blood-chill under her gaze.

Ruby took a step back, fighting the urge to use her aura on them. "N-no, it's just he's my new bff, and I'm worried about him when he didn't show up today."

"Oh." Ren said simply. "Good. In that case, he's probably not feeling well today, he's been working a night-job recently, and from what he's told me, it's very exhausting."

"You're Jaune's friend!" She turned to Ren. "He's allowed to be making them on his own?" Ren shrugged. "Awesome! That's means your my friend too, now! I'm Nora, Nora Valkyrie, and this is my partner in crime, Lie Ren!"

"Just Ren, please."

The girls made introductions, quickly, before sitting down.

"So, Jaune has a job?" Pyrrha probed, her respect growing for him. "And, still comes to school? I thought his family lived on a compound, why does he need a job?"

Ren steepled they're fingers. "That's his business, not ours, but he's very skilled with his hands."

"That coming from ... first hand experience, eh-eh?" Yang joked.

Ren nodded. "Yes, he does beautiful work, and always left me satisfied."

"Oh, your close like that?" Yang leaned back, surprised.

Nora nodded furiously. "Oh like you wouldn't believe! We've been tight forever, I know both of them so well, I could paint you a picture of them both naked blind-folded!"

The Magical Girls in Public Dress blush. 'Wow.'

"I didn't think he had relationships like that." Ruby muttered.

Yang blushed, looking away. "Maybe, we should talk about something else, now."

Blake leaned in with interest. "Go on."

"Um. Does he meet with you two often?" Pyrrha asked, trying to be discreet.

"Not as much as we used, too." Nora sighed. "But, it's always memorable when we do!" She then immediately brightened up.

"Jaune has a very busy life outside of school, so we make the most of our time here at school." Ren added.

"You mean, here?" Blake leaned forward.

"Yeah, we're joined at the hips here!" Nora exclaimed. "We're like buns in the oven of life!"

Ruby coughed, still red. "So, good to know. Think you can tell us some more stuff about Jaune, my, I mean our, bestest friend forever?"

Nora opened her mouth.

But, Ren covered it. "I'm afraid that you'll have to wait till Jaune is back," Ren gave a look at Nora. "Jaune should be the one to ..." He paused looking for the word. "To explain his quirks to his, I mean, our friends."

Nora nodded. "Right. Sorry, girls. Oh, but I could tell you about that time Jaune busted me out of Juvie!"

"That was a dream, Nora." Ren sighed.

"It was an awesome dream, Ren."

"Could you tell me anyway?" Ruby asked, eager to hear it.

Nora looked at her in surprise. "Really?" She searched Rubys face, then smiled, only to look nervously at the other girls. "You three wouldn't mind, would you? I've been told I talk too much, before."

Yang nodded. "Go for it, girl! I love a good story."

Blake shrugged, then put her book in her lap. "I don't mind a change of pace."

Pyrrha searched Nora's face. "Does Jaune listen to your dreams?"

Nora gave a mega-watt grin. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe, he even askes question! I mean," She looked shy for a moment. "We met in middle-school, and I had been talking non-stop about my dreams, and Ren hadn't been there to help, uh, what's the word, put a leash of me?"

More blushes.

"And, so meanies had told me to be quiet, which I get, but they didn't have to be jerks about it. And, all of a sudden this blonde boy I never met stands up and tells them, he wasn't done listening to me." She smiled in a far-off way. "He actually got into a fight for me, over it. That was the first time he had ever fought anybody, unlike his beefy-bod now, he was a 60lb twig, and got his butt handed to him."

That was a hard to picture in Ruby's head, despite only knowing Jaune for a short time, at least better now, it was hard for him to picture him losing. To anyone, actually. Even to her, or the other girls.

She shook her head, that was absurd, Jaune was strong, but he didn't even have Aura.

But, Ruby had to admit, he had a strength of will and character that made Aura seem so minor by comparison.

Nora laughed. "He didn't care though, just kept getting back up, telling the guy that I needed to be apologized too he's always been so stubborn.

"He was crying, nose-bleeding, eye completey black with bruises, and he just would not stay down, it got to the point where the other boy got so tired of him he couldn't move, and Jaune stood of over him.

"Imagine for a second, how scary that is, you're some big 12yr and beating the snot out of boy half your size. You feel great, high as heaven, and then he gets up.

"Your hands get heavy, your arms start to hurt, you can't breath right anymore. He stands up again, bleeding, bruised, but not beaten. Your hands ache from hitting so much, you trip, and he stands over you, dripping blood off his face, and his eyes stare into yours, just repeating the same phrase.

'Tell her you're sorry, tell her you're sorry, tell her you're sorry,' over and over again.'

"Anyway, he got so scared of Jaune, he wet himself and changed schools! It was great!" Nora cackled.

Ren nodded. "I wasn't there for it, but I came to the office as soon as I heard Nora had been called up there. Jaune was there holding her hand," Ren turned to her with a smirk. "You forgot to mention you were crying into his chest about how sorry you were forgetting him hurt, and that you'd be his best-friend forever, and then immediately saw me, and then, she told me, I was his best-friend forever, too." Ren sighed wistfully. "We've been inseparable ever since.

"Ren!" Nora whined. "Don't go making me look like cry-baby!"

"That's beautiful." Yang rubbed her eyes, her voice choking.

Blake and Pyrrha staring at her like she grew a second head.

"Excuse me," Yang said still rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, I don't want to get all soppy and weak. I just can't stop myself when I hear something like that." Ruby patted her sisters back.

Nora looked away. "It's cool. Glad you liked it..."

The table went silent.

"Would you mind if we started coming to set over her with you two girls, during lunch?" Pyrrha asked hesitantly.

Ren smiles. "No, not at all." He paused. "Wait, girls?"

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#jaune arc #fanfic

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