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#my whole body hurts but doing this counts as pain relief probably. right. anyway
vilonnie · 9 months
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[ID: A t-chart meme where the words "people who like royal trio" are labeling a wall of text and a screenshot from Persona 5 Royal of "Kasumi Yoshizawa" hiding behind Ren Amamiya for protection. On the other side, the words "people who like royal trio also" are labeling the sprites of Ren, Sumire Yoshizawa, and Goro Akechi, along with the text "haha transbian theatre kid gay duels to the death." End ID]
having a bad day? have you tried thinking about royal trio every day for a month straight until the brainrot makes your eyes fall out of your head
um. also here's the word vomit on the left under the cut... fair warning it is. excruciatingly long And completely deranged since the joke was that I have problems about them lol
these children were forced to sublimate their identities into idyllic roles in a game of gods while simultaneously being made to perceive themselves as monsters. joker is constantly being positioned as the perfect gentleman thief, The Savior, often of individual women but also of The World as a collective, to the point of symbolically *executing* parts of himself for the sake of his utility and the salvation of other people. there are multiple scenes of him stepping in front of a girl to bodily protect her from an attacker and the inciting incident of the entire narrative is him suffering for that role and losing his home, his family, and arguably in a sense his own face (glasses). actually glasses in general are highly symbolic in terms of persona 5 as a whole when you look at joker, sumire, maruki, and even crow, which can also tie into themes of "masks," "personas," and "cognition," but that's another topic. anyway even though joker is constantly martyring himself for others he is still the most demonized character in the entire game, having Satan as one of his other selves and existing in the people's cognition only as "the most dangerous inmate locked in the quarantine cell" (paraphrased). as the trickster and the leader of the phantom thieves he must always be strong and unfaltering - he is never allowed to cry, or to show weakness.
this also affects his relationship with sumire, who through the persona of kasumi is forced into a position where she must constantly be saved by others. kasumi is the perfect girl in every way - sweet, perpetually cheerful, thin, beautiful, feminine, an unimpeachable prodigy athlete who is expected to always get first place, who must do so effortlessly - but by the same token she can never be confident and fufilled on her own, and must always be rescued by the savior-martyr joker. what sumire cannot escape is that kasumi is The Damsel. her ultimate persona ella is literally a bride. and sumire, the flawed and human girl behind the mask who had her agency taken away from her the moment she was granted kasumi's name, hates and loves kasumi in equal measure for that perceived inhuman perfection. it is functionally because kasumi in sumire's eyes represents the fantasy of perfection which she can never really achieve that the idea of kasumi loving her is incomprehensible. kasumi cannot love her, cannot have admired or envied her gymnastics, cannot cook for her, and absolutely cannot have died for her, because a flawless princess cannot be human. kasumi has to have been this cool, untounchable, isolated eidolon, because to believe otherwise would destroy sumire - but in the end, it destroys her anyway when she herself is made to become the glittering ideal. and yet, becoming kasumi creates a dichotomy in sumire's head - if kasumi is everything that is good and worthwhile, than sumire is everything that is repulsive and unlovable. her hatred for kasumi was at its core a manifestation of her hatred for herself, and her belief that her only options were to either accept a future where she is unwanted or to die. after all, in sumire's mind, there is nobody in the real world who could value the survival of her true self. personally I do believe that joker and sumire love each other (platonically or romantically) but they're being shoved into these fabricated roles as savior and damsel by forces outside of control.
the same can be said for akechi. despite all the menace and mania of the black mask and the horrors he was directly complicit in, at the end of the day, akechi is an 18 yo who was being exploited by adults that should have been protecting him. and as the detective prince, he was overworked and paraded around to present him as this immaculate prettyboy savant, the sinless embodiment of justice who every citizen could expect to vanquish the evil criminals, even whle akechi himself was unable to see the prince as anything more than an artifice. by having to perpetuate the image of justice as a pure facade, akechi became further disillusioned and his lost faith in the world was accentuated. akechi was born miserable, llived a miserable life, and died miserable, all the while full of rage and believing that he would never belong anywhere. but even crueler is that there was hope for him. the thing about akechi's death that makes it work where other attempts at "redemption by death" do not is that any karmic undertones of the scene are simply a bonus. rather than leveraging his death against the morality of his actions, the implication is that akechi has to die primarily because he would be unable to live a happy life in the world as it exists now. given the oppression of the young in a corrupt society, inevitably some victims will be unable to survive. but akechi's death motivates the phantom thieves to keep going, to fight for real societal change, and to hold on to the hope that one day they will create a world where people like crow can live and escape the cycles of violence they're trapped in. still, thus doesn't make akechi's death any less painful. in his final moments, he came to realize how much joker cared about him as a friend, finally understood that he would never see him as a monster, and very nearly found that place to belong he had been deprived of. the phantom thieves reached out their hands for him to take - but it wasn't enough. joker loves him too, wanted him too, and it will never, ever be enough again, because akechi is dead. what ultimately connects the royal trio is that each of them is unable to live happily as their true selves when those in power force idealization and demonization upon them, and only by breaking free of those chains can they hope to experience true rebellion.
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flowerwrites06 · 3 years
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break my mind’s eye I — jjk
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Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal. 
Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle) 
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 
Word Count: 7k+
Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff
Tags & Warnings: drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution 
Authors Note: finally i was able to conclude that bmme can be reposted!! please welcome back this precious gem of mine 
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The first time she saw was before one of her fashion shows. Small event compared to the likes of Gucci or Louis Vuitton but for her the biggest night of her life was about to happen. Unfortunately minutes before the show started, Belle got a call from her uncle to pick Taehyung up from their place and his tone sounded utterly bleak.
Walking away from a highly angered manager she rushed off to pick him up only to find him sitting outside on the porch in the cold wind, laughing a little to himself before swearing at no one. It was the first day Belle found out the things he had been taking.
Weed, ecstasy…she even found a small bag of cocaine hidden in his hoodie after getting him cleaned up.
“Where the hell did you get money for cocaine?” Belle tried to search his expression but Taehyung was too busy stumbling as he finally fell onto her bed.
“I know a guy. I promised to pay him back soon.” Taehyung mumbled turning to rest on his back, his limbs refused to stay still to a point where Belle started to get annoyed.
“Tae, how much do you owe this guy?” She asked, heart thumping a little knowing cocaine especially was not inexpensive and that mixed with other drugs…
His body being ruined was one heart-wrenching thing but she dreaded the amount of money this all cost.
Her brother stayed silent closing his eyes to let out a few breaths which caused her blood to boil even more.
Belle understood why Taehyung turned to something so putrid to relieve him of their recent troubles. There was a moment in time where she even thought to do so, maybe to ease some of the pain of they both went through. But it was getting out of hand.
-
The next morning Belle fixed him up a proper breakfast to distract him from taking another dose of the things he bought. Or was loaned anyway since he didn’t have a job or savings to pay for any of the products she found.
Taehyung didn’t even come to the table.
Instead as she walked towards the bedroom, she found him shirtless snorting something up his nose as he quickly threw his head back. Just hearing his sigh of relief made Belles’ stomach churn to near sickness.
Fuming, Belle grabbed whatever pieces of his stash she could find on the table and threw it in the bin pushing it away when he tried to savor anything that could be fished out. She saw his eyes widen so much that it almost seemed his eyeballs were going to fall on his hand.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Taehyung yelled, voice growly while his nose still had remnants of white powder dripping and his eyes bloodshot more than ever. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get shit like that?!”
“I don’t care, you’re done with this!” Belle stood her ground but kept her voice calm, her own glossy eyes fixated on his.
“You don’t fucking get it!” Taehyung winced, face contorting it looked like he was about to cry. “I need it, okay? And I got that shit from a guy that works in the Jeon Cartel!” He gestured over to the entrance of the apartment. “I can’t ask for anymore, I haven’t paid for anything.” He yanked at his hair whining under his breath like a spoiled child not getting the toy he wanted.
Belle shook her head slightly, tears forming at the brim of her eyes. “Tae…” Her voice grew shakier now. “How much do you owe them?” Her bottom lip quivered watching his chest rise and fall heavily.
He stayed silent averting his gaze.
“Taehyung.” Her tone quickly turned firm though her heart pounded painfully. “How much do you owe them?” Belle truly hated acting like the oldest between the two.
Taehyung used to take care of her every single day almost more than her own parents since they mostly focused on their oldest son because he had ‘a lot more potential’. Her stomach ached looking at all the potential slowly going down the drain right in front of her eyes.
“A few hundred…six…maybe seven…” Taehyung muttered trying not to look directly at her when he spoke. He probably knew exactly the kind of shock gripped her face and he was damn right.
Belles’ entire body turned cold, her fingers almost wanting to fish out the substances herself just knowing how much money it cost to get it. But she curled them up into fists wanting to look strong. “I don’t…know how it feels…I do know it hurts and I know why you’re doing this but…I can’t lose you too.” She whispered, vision getting blurry as a lump grew in her throat. “You’re my big brother, you’ve always looked after me.”
Taehyung bit down his bottom lip lowering his head in slight shame.
“Please let me look after you.” She pleaded in a whisper trying to search his expression, to see any sense of softness or thought.
Her brother sobbed a little, running his shaky fingers through his matted hair before nodding but still trying not to meet her gaze. “Okay.”
Belle let out a trembling sigh of relief, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek when she finally relaxed. “I have savings you can use to pay for the drugs you asked for.” She stated in a gentle tone this time as Taehyung stared at her, shaking his head.
“That’s your boutique money, you can’t—”
“Yes I can.” She forced a smile across her face to reassure him. “My boutique can wait. I want you to get better.”
Taehyung gulped down carefully padding over his sister before leaning his head on her shoulder at an attempt of a lazy hug. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered against the fabric of her sweater, a light whimper under his breath. “Thank you.”
The chill that spread through her body now warmed up as she wrapped her arms around her brother, feeling like the younger sister if only for a second. “Who do we have to pay?” Belle asked sniffling a little.
“My debts’ too high…” Taehyungs’ grip tightened around the girl. “…the guy who gave me the drugs tells me I need to go straight to the boss for questioning if I come back again.”
Oh god, Taehyung…what did you get yourself into?
-
Much to Taehyungs’ discontent, Belle insisted on coming with him with the envelope of the payment in her hand. She figured cash would be more believable instead of bank transferring especially since there was so much money piled up for just debt. Her older brother looked at her a little surprised at how well she knew how to maneuver these things. “Being in the fashion industry doesn’t just mean I draw and sew clothes, you know.” She replied simply as she drove the both of them to the address Taehyungs’ guy told him to go.
During the trip she wanted to mention how sneaky it was to just give them the address and not come along. But then again…this wasn’t exactly an ethical business to begin with.
Of course it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to find the Jeon household considering it was on the outskirts of the city. A large sandstone colored mansion with vines growing off of the sides and golden detail on the windows and pillars. They drove in front of the closed entrance where Taehyung told them his name and that he was being expected which thankfully caused the large gate to slide open with a painful screech sound.
Heart pounded so hard it could have ripped out of her ribcages, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her palms a little sweaty. The guards lined up in front of the door with their suits and shades making her homemade white floral dress look like peasants work. Even from here she could recognize that those uniforms were not made from some random ordinary designer. Even though the design itself was quite ordinary.
Taehyung walked out of the car first before Belle followed suit.
As soon as she walked out, one of the guards held his hand out.
“Ma’am, the boss requests that you give away your car in the duration of the meeting.” He spoke in a robotic tone.
Belle wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her directly since the shades were so dark but she gave him her car keys anyway. The feeling of emptiness eerily seeping through her already nerve-wracked body. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Taehyung must be feeling around all of this.
They were led into the mansion by three guards. The entrance was really just a big hall that stretched across the whole expanse of the building. When they passed a large open archway then Belle could see the furnished details; a few couches circled around in the middle of the large space with the fireplace behind the sitting, a bar on the far right with some maids tending to the dust while there were stairs on the left leading to the upper level.
Why would they want meet them personally for a few hundred dollars? It looked like a small loss looking at the quality of this whole building down to the outfits their guards were wearing.
Maybe it was more greed than the amount of the money.
“Please be seated. Master Jeon will speak to you shortly.” The same guard declared before moving back to his post and standing there like a statue.
Taehyung and Belle sat at the couch that faced the fireplace. Thankfully the maids were kind enough to turn it on since she hadn’t realized how cool it was going to be in the house. They offered them tea which they both turned down. An empty stomach meant less likely for her to throw up from the anxiousness. Taehyung, on the other hand, lost interest for food altogether barely eating anything but crumbs.
She noticed the hollowness of his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. How long had it been since she saw a smile stretching across his lips? Taehyung used to be filled with light and passion beyond anything Belle had ever seen. He was the reason she pushed herself to pursue her own dreams despite the side-eyes from their parents. He defended her passion. He protected from unfair treatment always giving her shine he thought she deserved.
Now Belle had to repay the favor. She needed to encourage her brother to restart his path back to one that made him happy instead of one that slowly destroyed him to the core.
Footsteps brought her back out from her thoughts, eyes trailing over to the stairs. A tall built figure dressed in an all-white suit with a button-up shirt to match, loosely done up so his gold necklace could glimmer in the light. Belle noticed the gold cufflinks shimmering from his wrists. Hair styled somewhat neatly with a side part and strands hovering his eye when he moved, lips a rosy hue and his face looked for younger than she expected.
When people said ‘drug lord’ she imagined a stumpy old creep with similar attire except traditionally unkempt with facial hair and untrimmed chest hair that hung over their shirts.
Despite his pleasant appearance, Belle was not going to be blinded to the fact that this man thrived off of her brothers’ suffering.
The man finally met her gaze after only glancing a little at Taehyung before sitting down on the couch in front of them. Legs spread apart ever so slightly, he leaned back with one of his arms extended out. “Mr. Kim.” He spoke in a soft tone, eyes going back to her older brother now. “Do you recognize who I am?” He searched his expression.
Taehyung kept his head lowered but nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Who am I?” He pressed on like a father calmly scolding his child.
“M-Master Jeon Jungkook…” He muttered helplessly almost glancing up to meet his gaze but quickly looking down once again.
“So you do know…” Jungkook nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here I was thinking you consider me a joke. Taking bags and bags of my products while assuming I won’t try to track you down. Is that you what you thought of me?” His tone grew firmer.
Unlike Taehyung, Belle kept her head up, maintaining her gaze on the stranger. It seemed like Jungkook had a good eye for noticing when he flickered over to look at her instead.
“No, sir.” Taehyung shook his head frantically. “I-I just n-needed to get my money together.” He explained in a shaky voice not noticing that his precious ‘sir’ was staring at Belle a lot longer than she was comfortable.
Maybe he was waiting for her to duck her head down like her older brother.
The urge to do so was stronger than ever but Belle persisted. Until Jungkook glanced over at Taehyung again.
Her brothers’ fingers trembled violently at this point. Belle itched to comfort him somehow but she wanted him to try and face on his own to some extent. Coming here and sitting next to him was already being far too lenient but she couldn’t let him do this completely alone. Not when the healing process was so fresh and people like Jungkook would do anything to make sure he stayed addicted.
“Where’s the money?” Jungkook gestured towards him.
Belle took a small breath, placing the envelope on her lap onto the glass coffee table. “One of your men said he owed seven hundred.” She spoke up now trying to keep her voice as steady as possible even though her heart was beating out of control. “The envelope has eight just in case he wasn’t accurate.” A chilly feeling brushed over her body when her savings just sat there on the coffee table. Nothing but petty money for Jungkook but to her, it was the only way she could afford the vacant building in the city for her boutique.
“And you are?”
“His sister.” She muttered, glancing over at Taehyung who let out a deep sigh.
Jungkook stared down at the thick envelope for a few minutes with a raised brow. “Jongho…” He curled his fingers in towards a guard who quickly rushed over to stand beside him. “Please escort Mr. Kim to the second living room for a moment. I’d like to have a word with Ms…”
“Belle.”
“Belle…” The corner of his lip curled up before he gestured again towards the man called Jongho and he immediately led Taehyung away from them.
Belles’ heart raced seeing his helpless face looking back at her not sure if he was trying to apologize or if he was terrified of why they were being separated. “Why’re you taking him away?” She asked, being as polite as possible but her tightening fists told a different story.
“I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook murmured. He leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes searching her expression closely. “I thought it’d be better if I had a private conversation with a more steady minded person rather than your brother.” He nodded behind her.
Her brows furrowed glancing down at the closed envelope before staring up at him. “We got you the money, why do we need to have a conversation?” Belle’s voice was low just enough for only Jungkook to hear and no one else. Not that she could raise her voice even if she tried from how closed up her throat was.
“Because I’m honorable to an extent but I also hate people taking advantage of my kindness.” Jungkook shrugged lightly. “Your brother had been freely given all the products he consumed and he waited three months to give me my payment.” He let his sentence linger in the air to add more effect. “Three months of losing product and receiving no profit in return is not a risk I like making, Belle. Nor do I want to make it again.”
“So…what’re you saying?” Belle thought of the worst possible scenarios. Would they take Taehyung away and punish him? Or kill him? Was he being punished right now and Jungkook was just lying to prevent a scene? She watched his soft eyes trail up and down her form trying to be subtle but Belle caught it immediately feeling the urge to hide away into the couch.
“I’m saying the deal’s changed.” Jungkook declared in the most casual way like you would cancel a simple outing to the mall. “Look I can get money anytime I want to…you know that, don’t you?” He tilted his head a little searching her features. “I asked for this personal meeting on the basis of principle. Taehyung and many people like him need to understand that we stand by codes just as much as anyone. I’m not a money pig that just drools and accepts cash when it’s given to me.” He raised a brow.
Belle winced lightly, shaking her head. “Then why are we here? What do you want?”
Jungkook did nothing for a minute and gave her a soft smile. “Something he can take a little more seriously than cash…well—someone.”
Blood drained from her body from her aching head to her toes. Belle pierced into his smug gaze hoping…praying that he didn’t meant what she thought. The last thing she ever looked to be afraid of but now became the ultimate bane of her visit.
A visit thought to be quick and sweet with cash exchanged. How could she be surprised? These people wanted so much but still asked for more. What more could she expect from the man that took just to have the power to take some more? “Taehyung’s a good man.” She whispered. “He won’t do this again.”
“That’s what a lot of people tell me for years about their relatives or friends, Belle.” Jungkook murmured under his breath keeping the conversation to themselves despite the maids and guards standing around. “My grandfather heard it…my father heard it…every single time those people come back begging for more and then we get blamed for the dead bodies.” He sighed in slight defeat but she didn’t buy it in the slightest.
There was nothing noble about this request. If he were any other man gaining the audacity to say something like this, he would expect a hard punch on his nose. Except now it wasn’t just her own safety in question. Nor was Jungkook any ordinary man who could be taken by police or a punch looking at his build. “What am I supposed to do?” Belle murmured, heat flushing in her body making her more exasperated than grateful at the running fireplace.
Once again, a smile stretched across Jungkooks’ rosy lips. If it were taken out of context you’d think he was some sweet boy admiring something. But the reality was far from that lie. “You’re not going to be my prisoner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled a little wider, eyes glimmering. “I’m not that evil.”
Debatable.
“You’re a lot more intelligent than you let on.”
“You just met me.”
“But I meet a lot of people…a little too many. So I tend to rely on first impressions and hope I’m right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“And if you’re wrong?”
He chuckled under his breath gesturing over to his guards. “They’re not there for decoration…and I don’t always negotiate like this. I’m just having a good day.” She saw his expression grow dark but the smile still remained making him look utterly sinister.
Visions of Taehyung tied to a chair, sobbing flashed across her mind making her mentally slap herself back to reality. She couldn’t look weak in front of him of all people. That’s what he wanted…for people to cower in front of him as he spewed his threats around to get everything he asked for. But denying him completely and storming out wouldn’t exactly be the smartest decision either considering she didn’t actually know where her brother was. The mansion was still mystery to her and Jungkook could easily hurt any of them as he so subtly stated with that stupid, fucking smile.
“So…what do you say, Belle? Do we have an accord?”
-
Taehyung was led back into the main living room, slightly yanking off of Jongho’ grasp and giving him a glare when he walked away. He looked over at Belle, her back facing him standing in front of Jungkook. “Belle?”
Belle looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile as she walked closer. She let out a sigh of relief seeing no sign of injury on the older male.
“Did he do something to you?” After the longest time, Taehyung sounded like an older brother again looking after Belle whenever she looked the slightest bit distressed. “What did he say?” He whispered.
She stayed silent, gaze lowered to look at his T-shirt before flickering up to force a smile at him. “It’s going to be okay.” Belle murmured. “He even offered to pay for your rehabilitation and get you back on your feet.”
Brows furrowed now gaining the urge to glance over at Jungkook but he couldn’t seem to stop searching his sisters’ expression. “Why would he want to pay for—”
“I told him to.” Belle gulped, smile fading away into a small frown.
“Belle, we can’t pay him back for all of that.” Taehyung held onto her bare arms feeling the cold skin underneath his.
She nodded. “Yes we can. He’s only asking for one thing.”
“…What?” He whispered.
Belle bit down her bottom lip, chin quivering a little before she smiled again even though her eyes grew glossy. “He wants me.”
Taehyungs’ heart plummeted making his whole body feel heavy. “No…” He shook his head, grip tightening around her arms as if she was going to disappear if he let go. “He can’t do that.”
“I agreed.”
“Belle!” It was more a loud whisper than anything but it managed to turn a few heads. “He’s going t—”
“I know what he’s going to do.” Belle rubbed his chest soothingly. “But this is the only way I can help you.”
“You have the money, why won’t he take it?” He gestured towards the envelope on the coffee table which now looked long forgotten.
Belle lowered her gaze. “Because he thinks you’ll just do it all again. He doesn’t trust you.”
“And you trust him?” Taehyung retorted causing heat to bubble up inside Belle.
“I trust you to do your part in this promise.” She tightened her jaw, wincing as the lump in her throat grew painful. “Unless you have a better idea to escape a pissed off drug lord then you will do this.” Tears flooded at her eyes threatening to escape but her gaze persisted on him. “Please promise me you’ll try to get better from now on.” Her lips quivered. “I didn’t know how else to help you. But now you need to help me. You need to heal and get back on your feet.”
Taehyung brushed against his fingers through the hair rested on her shoulder. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Belle shook her head as an attempt to reassure him but he didn’t look at all convinced. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled faintly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks which he wiped off gently.
“I’m so sorry…” He whimpered, fingers curling around her hair. “This is all my fault, I should’ve just come here on my own.”
“He would’ve killed you.”
“But you’d be happy.”
Belle chuckled sadly. “You really think I’d be happy if I lost you?”
“But you wouldn’t be here.” Taehyung side glanced over at the guards who looked completely unfazed by the whole ordeal while Jungkook had his back turned to them, gazing out into the garden outside.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” Belle wasn’t sure if that was directed at her brother or herself. Was this meant to be her big fork in the road? The path she was supposed to determine her whole life. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was amount to only one thing… but she’d be caught dead before she cowered begging before people like Jungkook. If he wanted her then he could have her. But he’d be an idiot to think she wasn’t going to use that to her own advantage one day. “We’re allowed to see each other so you’re not losing me, okay? I’ll be there whenever you need me.”
Taehyung sighed in frustration averting his gaze, boring holes in the back of Jungkooks’ head with his glare. “I want to kill him.”
“Then we’ll never get out of here.” Belle replied simply.
Finally Taehyung succumbed to his sisters’ wishes, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before letting go, physically deflating as he was led out of the mansion by one of the guards.
One of them, same Jongho walked over to her. “I’ll drive him back safely, Ms. Kim.” He gave her a reassuring smile before following Taehyung out of the mansion.
The double doors closed blocking out whatever light that came from it leaving her empty.
“Taehyung will call you when he gets home. So you know he’s safe.” Jungkook spoke up now in a gentle tone but Belle kept her back to him. “And your personal belongings will be moved here in a few days.”
She licked her lips before lowering her gaze, letting a few silent sobs before wiping the tears away. “Where can I freshen up?” Belle looked down at her fingers seeing the light mascara smudges, trying to wipe at the corners of his eyes to wipe any traces away.
Jungkook seemed like he gestured towards one of the maids because a kind looking woman padded over and touched her on the shoulder.
Her grey hair wrapped up in a bun and the smile lines around her face showed when she gave her a sweet grin, making her look like the only person that seemed somewhat trustworthy in this building. “Let’s go upstairs, dear.” She held onto her arms and led her towards the stairs. “I’ll get some new clothes sent up as well.”
Belle didn’t glance at Jungkook but she could feel his gaze on her when she was led up the stairs to the now shared master bedroom.
-
Similar to what a hotel suite would look like, the master bedroom adorned a modern design with an opaque black curtains drawn to keep the room cool and ambient with the warm lights. A king-sized bed with classic white sheets with some gold detail matching the aesthetic of the whole mansion itself. There was a marble partition that had a small gap on the bottom with a modern looking fireplace on to keep the room warm, situated on the immediate left when they walked in.
On the other side of the partition was a desk with a closed laptop and some files. Another open archway on the right that led to a walk-in-wardrobe with lit up shelves that accentuated all the different shoes and shirts.
Upon walking through the archway into the wardrobe, on the right, there was the private bathroom just as big as every other small area in the monster of a bedroom.
Belle was led into the bathroom by the kind maid where she saw a shower that could have been the size of her laundry room, a sink just in front of it with a bathtub on the far end. The white bathtub contrasted against the grey marble floor with a large window that showed a forest-like view.
“It’s an illusion.” The maid explained as if to reassure her that her baths were not going to be displayed out into the world. “The Master asked for a glass case that held shrubs but the foggy forest is an intricate painting by one of the familys’ personal artists. He likes the feeling of being disconnected from the modern world when he’s relaxing.”
Normally the design would impress her greatly. The idea of having the illusion of a calm forest without the hassle of actually moving to one was genius and the greyish light gave the bathroom a relaxing morning feel. Right now however it made her feel more trapped than ever. Even the view outside was just an illusion in her new cage. Nothing felt solid and real at this point like Belle was a ghost floating around in a dream that never seemed to end.
“Your towels are over on the stand there, dear. I’ll have robes and a change of clothes brought to you outside soon.” The maid smiled patting her lightly on her arm. “Don’t fret too much, darling. I don’t think the master has any intention of hurting you.”
“It’s not him hurting me that’s making me nervous.” Belle smiled sadly, grateful that the woman even cared to reassure her somehow.
“Ah…” The maid smiled and nodded knowingly. “I’ll get you some of my special tea…it calmed me down on my wedding night.”
Belle’s heart sank seeing the woman smile at her a little sadly too. “Is the secret ingredient whiskey?” She tried to lighten the mood which successfully made the woman chuckle. Somehow seeing the way the woman helped her in her own way reminded her of why she was in this glass case in the first place. She remembered Taehyung smiling again, throwing away all the things that tarnished all the peace in his heart and being free. She needed to be strong.
“Not really but…I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered the last bit with a cheeky smile before turning on her heel to leave Belle in a few moments of solitary freedom at the very least.
-
It may have been dark by now.
At least when Belle peeked the slightest outside the curtained window, the sun had been dipping into the hills to give the sky a pinkish hue. Her heart pounded at the lack of notifications from her brother. Her body felt fresher now that she had a comfortable long white nightie with a thin robe to keep her arms somewhat cozy. But skin still heated up significantly with her anxiety.
Then minutes passed before her phone buzzed and her heart released a thousand sighs of relief seeing Taehyung’s name.
“Belle?”
“Yes it’s me.” Belle whispered with a biggest grin on her face from the sheer relief. “You went home okay? They didn’t hurt you?”
“No, no they were just… fine.” Confusion trailed in Taehyung’s voice. “That guy has way too much fucking power, they just dropped me off and left saying they’ll come back to drop me off at the rehab center. Normally his men tried to rough me up whenever they saw me.”
“That’s because they knew you’re the guy that doesn’t pay.” Belle cringed mentally hearing herself defend their actions but…she was a little too good at considering perspectives, she guessed.
“I guess…also I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you if you’re okay.” Taehyung corrected but Belle let his words linger in the air for a moment.
Sitting in the luxury bedroom wearing a clearly quality robe with people working at her beck and call, in a first glance people would call her lucky. Digging deeper into the surface and seeing that Belle was manipulated into being in his position then people would call Jungkook a monster.
Was it only one of them? Was it both? Was it neither? Was this just a game that Belle had no choice but to play for a time until her brother got better? How far did Jungkook even think this through? Why was he so interested in manipulating Taehyung the most? Did he do this to every sister, brother or parent that came around? Did they even come this far?
“Belle, you still there?”
“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. I’m just sitting.” She quickly explained.
The thoughts crowded in her head making it ache but thankfully the maid—her name she found out was Nana—gave her a piping hot cup of tea apparently laced with some herbs that helped calm anxiety and nerves. It was an ancient herb given to young girls so they could go through their wedding night without having an anxiety attack or breaking down. Blowing away some of the steam, Belle took a few sips ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue.
“I don’t know what he wants yet but I think I have an idea.” Belle spoke solemnly.
“You really don’t have to do this, Belle.” Taehyung whispered desperately.
“We don’t have any other choice.”
“You could just come back home and I’ll just handle it.”
“You had three months to handle it.” Her voice grew firm quicker than she even expected but she kept her head cool. Silence ran on the other end of the line making Belle sigh to calm herself down. “We just need to keep our heads. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to make her tone sound so dreary but this wasn’t exactly the cheeriest of moments in her life. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her soft nightie trying to empty her mind for a little while. “I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay…Belle…”
“Yeah?”
“…I love you. Be safe.”
The lump in her throat grew again suffocating her when she forcefully swallowed it down. “I love you too.” Belle whispered before hanging up. Taking longer sips from her tea now, it took a few seconds for her feel her limbs loosen like ice melting near a fireplace. Her body cooled down from her heated anxiety to a comfortable warmth she could melt into without the worries of the troubles around her.
For a moment, she could close her eyes and relish in the new found relief wanting to silently thank Nana for providing her this cup of momentary tranquility.
The door opened with the familiar white-suited man walking in giving her a glance as he shrugged his blazer off. “Nana got you some clothes…good.” Jungkook muttered, walking into the walk-in wardrobe and placing his blazer back before taking off his cufflinks when he walked back in the bedroom. “Is it comfortable?”
“Yes.” Belle replied, brushing her palms across the smooth sleeves of the robe. She never worked with satin a lot but whenever she felt it under her skin it gave her the tingle of pure luxury. “I just spoke to Taehyung…he came home safe.”
“I told you he would.” Jungkook murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulder before placing into a hamper for the maids to take care of.
Belle noticed the stencil like silhouette of a phoenix etched into the right side of his chest as he walked over to his side of the bed. “You kept to your word. Thank you.” Not that you deserve it but…common courtesy.
She caught a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor.
“Do I sense a little bitterness, Ms. Kim?” Jungkook mused.
“Why? You don’t like a little bitter taste on your tongue?” Snakes must get used to it by now, she thought.
“I know you’re not a fan of me.” He stated the fucking obvious. “But you could say no anytime. I’ll just deal with your brother without bothering you again.”
Belle tightened her jaw, gripping onto the fabric of her nightie averting her gaze forcing a long silence to plunge into the room.
Jungkook finally sighed. “I didn’t mean that.” He muttered but Belle was mostly trying to focus back on the relaxation the tea gave her again. “Our accord is as solid any other contract so I’m not allowed to touch your brother…while you’re still with me anyway.”
“Is this how you get all your girls?”
He chuckled walking over and standing in front of Belle, forcing her to look up at him. “Would you be pleased if I said no?” Jungkook placed an index finger under her chin while his thumb hovered for a moment over her lips.
“Only if it’s the truth.” Belle replied simply, her knees melting into the surface of the bed.
Jungkook smirked moving his hands into her hair. “I don’t invite just anyone in my bed, no. But you’re not just anyone.”
“Why do you think that?” She asked as he slowly leaned in closer, fingers sliding down the crook of her neck letting the sleeves of her robe and nightie slip down with a mere touch.
“Because you were the only one brave enough to come this far.” He whispered pushing down the other side of her sleeves to leave her shoulders exposed. “Girls love the bad boys but never seem to understand what they’re asking for.” Cold fingers brushed against her collarbones, across her chest up her neck until he finally caressed her bottom lip with his index finger.
They want a fairytale. Beauty and the Beast. But eventually they find out that the Beast was never a prince in the first place. They realize that a mere kiss won’t break the curse.
“You know exactly what you’re asking for… don’t you?” Jungkook asked in a tone of a warm coo.
I’m not asking for this, Belle bit her tongue. But I do know what I’m getting myself into. What you gave me no choice but to get into. She stared at him determined to keep his gaze no matter how much she wanted to close her eyes. He wasn’t going to overpower her, not in that way. I received a beast instead of a prince…but you’re not getting any vulnerable fucking princess either. Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips and took his finger into her mouth barely waiting for Jungkook to make any move before she began suckling on it.
“Of course you do.” The mere action was enough of an answer for the male as his smirk grew darker. Jungkook took his finger away pushing down her nightie and robe further down until her breasts were displayed to him.
Belle was grateful for the warmth from the fireplace spreading through the room at his point. But in mere seconds Jungkook used his glistening finger to brush across her nipple causing it to stand erect almost instantly. A light gasp caught in her throat as she pressed her palms on the surface of the bed making her chest push out a little. When she threw her head back a little, he quickly took the opportunity to devour her lips, tongue pushing against her teeth which she kept clamp shut.
Long enough for him to get impatient and bite down her bottom lip a little. Then she allowed him to push through and explore her mouth. Jungkook knelt down but kept their lips locked as he sneaked his hands under her nightie, pushing the soft fabric, nails grazing against her skin causing a tingle down her spine.
Belle lifted a little to let him push the dress further up until he completely pulled both pieces of clothing off over her head. Before she could even comprehend her exposure, he picked her up a little and shifted so she could rest her head on the silk pillows. Her heart raced against her ribcages but she stopped being sure of why at this point, instead she thought about the herbs Nana gave her. Maybe thinking about how it can help would psychologically increase its effects? Stupid but maybe.
When she looked down at the male out of curiosity, she saw him discard his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the bed.
Belle kept her legs closed loosely before he pushed them apart, hands gliding down her inner thighs to her panties. His thumb pressed against the clothing right against her hiding nub making her jerk her hips a little at the suddenly awakened nerves.
He didn’t waste any time to hook the hem of her panties and strip it off her before dipping down in between her legs. His mouth feasted on her clit, tongue licking around her slit before sliding in teasingly slow and moving back to suckling on her bundle of nerves.
Her chest rose and fell as her eyes focused more on the ceiling, biting onto her bottom lip, light whimpers emitting from under her breath.
Jungkook released her clit with a pop sound before settling his hips between her legs. His already hardened shaft teased her slit a little more, wet sounds tickling her ears before she felt him stretch her out.
A moan finally erupted from her throat, clenching around him making him groan.
“It’s okay…” He whispered in her ear when she turned her head to the side. “Does it hurt a lot?”
Belle’s head felt like it was trying to find a straight line in a completely scribbled piece of paper. Her core ached for a moment. She felt Jungkooks’ thumb rub at her clit making her walls relax a little as she focused on the light wash of pleasure rushing across her lower body. Slowly she shook her head moving back to face him again. “No…it’s okay.” She whispered, meeting his gaze when he still wasn’t moving. Leaning up she pressed a shy kiss on his lips.
It took mere seconds before Jungkook began moving in and out of her, still slowly rubbing circles on her erect clit.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed against each other as he grinded into her slightly nudging the spot that sent sparks through her body.
His pace quickened, both hands pressed down on the surface of the bed as he thrusted into her in a steady pattern letting the sounds of skin slapping linger in the air.
Belles’ skull felt numb, her mind locked up all her thoughts and allowed her body to succumb to his consistent pounding. Head threw back against the pillow as he chased his own orgasm, her own juices spluttering onto his lower belly. She hummed lightly under her breath which seemed to encourage Jungkook to go faster until the bed started to shift.
Jungkook lowered down a bit more, pressing wet kisses on her neck, trying to muffle his moans against her skin as his thrusts grew sloppy.
Belle felt a gentle wave of pleasure before Jungkook quickly pulled out with his release splattering all over her belly. She let out a small sigh, rubbing circles on her clit again to prolong her small climax before her bundle felt too sensitive to touch making her legs close up again. She watched the other male catch his breath still kneeling in front of her before crashing on the space beside her.
Whatever piece of physical satisfaction swirled around her body melted quickly into her chest clenching painfully. It didn’t take too long for her to notice all too clearly what spilt on her skin but Jungkook had already pulled out a wash cloth and wiped her clean. The traces still burrowed in her mind now.
Jungkook threw the wash cloth away before resting back on the bed again, shutting his eyes for a moment. Both of them catching their breaths and finally dwindling back to their fucked up reality.
“I can’t break this deal.” He murmured looking up at ceiling similar to her. “If I do, I’ll have to kill your brother.”
Belle swallowed the lump in her throat, a small tear spilling from the corner of her eye. “Am I supposed to be your sex toy until you’re done with me?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not allowed to have…sex toys.” Jungkook sighed. “There’s another reason why I changed the deal.”
She finally turned her head to face him, brows furrowing. “What did you not tell me?”
The male took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “My uncle and aunt have been forcing me to get married to someone of their choice. It’s gotten so pressing to a point where they’ve paid them to seduce me so it doesn’t look arranged.” Jungkook explained, running his fingers through his hair before resting on his head on his arm. “My rejections have stopped working. So I thought I should get a courtship with someone I choose before I’ll have to succumb to my uncle and aunts’ wishes.”
Belle could practically hear her own heart slamming out of her ears, more tears burning in her eyes. “So… you just…saw me and decided that you were going to make me your wife?”
“Did you want me to ask for your parents’ blessing or something?”
She averted her gaze back to the ceiling. “My parents are dead.”
“…I didn’t—”
“Of course you didn’t fucking know, we don’t know each other.” Belle inhaled a shaky breath before closing her eyes to calm herself down.
You are a fucking beast.
“Darling I gave you a chance to turn back.”
“So you wouldn’t hurt my brother.”
“Your brother was already dead if he kept going the way he did.” Jungkook winced a little before sighing in frustration. “I told you I’m not trying to be evil. A lot of people look at me when they want to see power. The world I live in chews up people who are too merciful.”
“My brother is innocent.” Belle sobbed lightly, forcefully biting down her bottom lip.
“He’s vulnerable to what I offer. Did you really think he was going to stop taking drugs just because he paid the money?” Jungkooks’ question lingered in the air for a while. “Correction: just because you paid the money.”
“So you want me to be your wife…” She swallowed thickly. “…or you’ll kill my brother.”
“When you say it that way, I do sound evil.” Jungkook pondered. “But yes. Everything else in the deal still stays the same. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“Except leave you.” Belle corrected.
“Except leave me.” Jungkook confirmed in the most casual fucking tone ever.
Belle did nothing but stay silent and turn to her side, back facing him making the male sigh in slight defeat. She felt his hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly as if it was going to give her any kind of comfort.
“A lot of marriages can be worse than this, you know.” He squeezed it again. “You’re going to have to work with me for this to run a lot smoother, yeah? You did so well today.” Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t feel so bad after a while.”
She knew now. Kissing the beast didn’t break the curse.
It made one.
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NEXT CHAPTER >>
1K notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 3 years
Note
I got a whole 4 hours of sleep today and have to pull a 12 hour shift. So I apologize if it doesn’t make sense, I am new to the Bucky fandom!
I like the idea of his grumpy, refusing to let anyone in, be slowly ground down by reader, but teeters back and forth until reader is in some sort of trouble. Then the flood gates of vulnerability open because he was worried about them. I mean he hasn’t been with anyone since the 40s right? Would he still know how to navigate caring about someone in that way? I don’t know. It was something that has been buzzing around in my head for a week.
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Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: langauge, vague description of sex (minors dni!)
BUCKY MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You’d started out as neighbors - nothing more and nothing less. 
Neighbors turned into causal acquaintances, fueled by your constant baking and copious amounts of goodies. Casual acquaintances turned into friends that would spend an occasional evening watching television together. Friends quickly turned into best friends that became utterly inseparable....with the occasional hook-up. You were hesitant to call it friends with benefits because that just sounded so crass. It was more like best friends with the occasional stress relief.
Stress relief. Sure that worked.
None that you wouldn’t have minded more of course. But you weren’t about to make a move on James Buchanan Barnes and ask him out on a date. No, you knew your place and his. He was physically akin to a god, mixed in with a bit of fuck boy, and yet...you loved him. You’d fallen hard and fast for the man that had gone from a mere stranger to a welcome and comfortable part of your life. But you’d never tell him that. 
No, nope, hell no. Bucky surely didn’t reciprocate your feelings and you’d never been the type to make a move first. 
Besides that...Bucky didn’t exactly strike you as a relationship type of guy. You’d seen him here and there with a girl or two, but it wasn’t anything serious. And since the two of you had started hooking up, you’d never noticed anyone else. And you hadn’t been with anyone else either. It was akin to a non-exclusive exclusive not-really-a-relationship relationship. Neither of you pushed it any further - you both accepted dates here and there but they never amounted to anything. Wonder why?
Unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want a relationship - he did. He did very much with you. But he just...there was something about being a one hundred and six year-old man that just left him confused and worried. He hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to date much and now that he had the time it reminded him of just how different things were. Dating was this weird confused jumble, but you were a clear and obvious bright spot. He had his doubts that you’d ever want anything more from him. He knew what he was - a mostly stable old man with a body that people seemed to enjoy. He made the most of that - it didn’t seem like people were interested in getting to know him much these days. 
But you did - you always did. And, gods, he’d fallen hard for you - the kind of love that makes your stomach churn and heart feel like bursting and steals your breath away no matter how long it’s been. But what the fuck would you want with him? He’s a fossil with a boatload of mental trauma and even more sass and attitude.
You deserved the world and he only had himself to give. Of course, he was enough - way more than enough - but he didn't believe that. 
There had been numerous occasions when you'd tried to be honest, to confess your true feelings, but you'd always managed to fall short. Every time you got close, something came up. And after the last girl you'd seen him with, you vowed to take your secret to the grave. 
You had come close though - so close - especially the last time you'd hooked up.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You were under Bucky, both of you naked and panting as you quickly approached your highs. He was buried deep inside you, head dropped to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nipping and biting at the delicate skin. 
Your legs were wrapped around his waist in order to hold him close. One of your hands was laced together with his while the other was wrapped around his neck. There was something so perfectly harmonious about how you always were together. 
His name fell from your lips like a prayer, James, James, James as he kept going. It was the only time you called him anything but Bucky. As your vision had grown hazy and you felt that familiar warm start to blood your veins, you’d let your true feelings slip. It was so easy, so effortless and in the moment it just...happened.
I love you. 
The declaration hung in the air as you felt your walls clamp around him and he reached his own eyes. That’s when you’d realized what you’d done. This time it was an entirely different sensation radiating throughout your bones - terror. Utter terror.
But if Bucky had heard your three little words he made no mention of them. Relief washed over you as you came to the conclusion that he was just as wrapped up in his own blissful haze that he simply hadn’t heard you. You were safe this time - but you’d have to be extra cautious from here on out.
Oh, but Bucky had heard you. Loudly and clearly. He chose to ignore your words because he was positive that he hadn’t heard you incorrectly. Surely you hadn’t meant to say that - and more importantly, it was a mistake. As much as he loved hearing those words from your pretty lips, he knew it was either an accident or a figment of his imagination. 
You both pretended that nothing had happened. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Bucky rolled his eyes lightly as he watched his phone light up with a call from Sam. He was half tempted to ignore it but decided to answer anyway; he was bored and the call might lead to something to do. You’d normally be hanging out with him on a Friday night, but his calls and texts had gone unanswered.
“Hey man,” Bucky picked up the call and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, “what’s up?”
“You need to get to the hospital,” Sam was speaking so quickly that it all came out in a single slew of words as Bucky’s brows knitted together.
“I know I don’t have a lot going on this Friday night, but I think I’m okay,” he snorted as he opened the bottle and took a swig.
“No, no, no,” Sam interrupted by almost whispering your name, “there’s been an accident. She was hurt and taken to the ER. I was on the phone with her when it happened - just come. Now.”
Bucky didn’t even wait for Sam to finish before he dropped the beer and ran out the door. His whole body felt like it was growing numb and the only thing on his mind was you. You couldn't be hurt...you just couldn’t. Bucky couldn’t imagine any sort of reality in which you weren’t there. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
As soon as he ran into the hospital, seeking out the emergency room, he was asking about you. He looked probably just as crazy as he felt as he was nervously directed to your room. He almost jogged down the hall and into your small space. Sam stood at the end of your bed, looking down at you with a concerned expression.
“What the hell happened?” Bucky could barely bring himself to look at you as you laid on the small bed, looking so helpless and fragile. You were sleeping, sedated from lots of heavy drugs, but hooked up to several beeping machines. Your arm was in a cast already, bruises and contusions and cuts littered every bit of your skin that he could see. His heart plummeted into his stomach. 
“She was crossing the street and got hit by a car that didn’t slow down enough in time,” Sam’s heavy was heavy as he rubbed at his tired, “I heard it all happen, Buck. It was terrible - but she’s strong. She’s going to be okay. No internal damage, luckily, but she’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while. The arm’s broken.”
“Jesus,” Bucky sighed as Sam nodded.
“I called her parents and they’ll be here soon. She’s just sleeping but hopefully will wake up soon.”
“Okay,” Bucky took a hesitant step closer.
“She asked for you,” Sam hadn’t been sure if he should have confessed that little part or not, “when they were bringing her in. Kept repeating your name. You should just tell her, you know. She’s obvious she feels the same. Don’t be idiots.”
“Thanks,” Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically as the two men shared a quick laugh before Sam hugged him, “I’ll stay here if you want to go. You’ve done a lot already. Thank you for calling me.”
“I got you man,” Sam gave him a half smile, “call me if you need anything at all...or if anything happens.”
“Goodbye.”
As soon as his friend left, Bucky came over to you, his fingers grazing the side of the small, horrid looking bed. He was going to help you however you needed it for however long it would take till you were better and out of pain. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t ever leave your side again.
This whole time he’d been so dumb, so silly. He should have just told you how he left - a long time ago and gotten over himself. A heavy sigh escaped him as you pulled up the uncomfortable plastic chair and took a seat next to you.
He gently, ever so delicately reached for the hand that was in the cast and held it in his. It almost made him laugh with how much smaller your hand was than his. They fit perfectly together.
He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, wondering when you’d wake up. He hoped soon - so he could finally tell you all of those unspoken words. 
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“James?” a croaky, dry voice met his ears as his tired eyes snapped open. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision before focusing on you. You were looking back at him with a tired, sleepy little smile on your features. You looked beautiful, so damn beautiful, despite the blues and purples painting your skin, “what are you doing here?”
He must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. He was still holding your hand. He beamed back at you, “hi pretty girl. Sam called me and told me what happened. I came right over.”
“I’m anything but pretty right now,” you laughed lightly but quickly grimaced at the pain, “how long have you been here?”
“Since yesterday evening,” he confessed quickly, “I didn’t want to leave - wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh Bucky,” there was that saccharine little smile on your face. The same one he loved so much, “you didn’t have to. I...I really fucked up movie night, huh?”
“I’m in love with you.”
He finally got those damn words out before he could change his mind or think too much about it. Your face immediately lit up with a grin as you searched his cerulean eyes. 
“Do you mean it?” you asked softly as he nodded, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks.
“Of course.”
“I love you too, Bucky,” you replied, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “I’m in love with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” he whispered as he leaned closer to you, “because I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl. Not now, not ever.”
“I don’t want you to, Bucky,” you promised, “I want you with me always.”
“That sounds perfect to me.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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469 notes · View notes
wincore · 3 years
Text
atlas | kim dongyoung
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pairing: doyoung x reader
words: 15.4k
summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.
or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.
genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 
warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,
prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️
song rec(s): playlist here !
a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)
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In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.
You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.
When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 
“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”
“And then what?”
“Fuck.”
So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.
Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 
(Fun doesn’t.)
Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 
And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 
It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 
It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 
The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.
You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.
You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.
Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 
You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.
You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 
You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 
You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)
“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.
“What?” you yell back.
“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.
You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”
Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”
“Loser.”
“No, you.”
“How clever.”
Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.
“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.
“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”
You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.
“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.
Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”
Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 
“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”
“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”
You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.
“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 
You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 
“Yeah.”
And the deal’s done.
It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.
Well, sort of.
You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 
See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.
His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.
God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.
His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.
Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  
An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.
“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 
The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 
“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.
You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”
“In front of a wall?”
You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”
“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 
To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.
“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”
You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.
“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”
“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.
Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).
Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.
Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 
Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.
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The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 
He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.
“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.
“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.
Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.
He’s even better when he’s annoyed.
You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 
Funny.
Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.
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“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”
You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.
“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.
Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.
“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”
“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”
Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”
“One.”
He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 
“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.
“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”
He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”
“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”
Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 
“Who’s a virgin?”
Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 
But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  
Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.
“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.
“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.
You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.
“Why not?”
“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”
He’s right.
“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 
“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”
“Well, of course it is. I had your—”
Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”
You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.
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“Where were you last night?”
You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.
“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.
You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.
(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)
Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”
You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.
“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”
“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.
“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”
You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”
They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 
You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 
“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.
“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 
You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.
Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.
Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.
Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.
So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.
It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.
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Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.
The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.
You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.
He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.
“How much lon—”
“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.
Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.
“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.
“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.
Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”
You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.
“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”
You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”
You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 
“Are you guys… into each other or not?”
You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”
“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”
“No way.”
You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.
“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”
He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”
You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”
“You seem to like him though.”
“Who said that?”
Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”
“We’re not.”
“—or fucking—”
“Ten.”
“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”
“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”
“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”
“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”
Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”
You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”
Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”
You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.
“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”
“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”
“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.
“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”
“Well, we’re not.”
Ten shrugs. 
“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”
He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”
“No.”
Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”
“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”
“It’s neither, promise.”
You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”
Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”
You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.
“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”
“What?”
“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”
“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”
“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”
“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”
“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”
You roll your eyes.
“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”
“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”
“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”
“Don’t complete that sentence.”
“I was going to say something funny.” 
Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.
“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”
“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”
You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”
“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.
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There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.
Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.
Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)
The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.
“Hey.”
You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.
“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.
“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”
“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”
“No. A little bit. Not enough.”
You sigh. “How will you get home now?”
“I live here, idiot.”
“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.
“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”
“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”
Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”
You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.
“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.
“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”
There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.
“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.
“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”
You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.
“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”
He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.
“Linguistics,” he answers.
“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”
“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.
“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.
“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”
You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”
“Really now?”
“Yes,” you snap, looking away.
You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.
“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”
For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.
“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.
“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”
You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 
“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 
Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 
“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”
“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.
He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.
“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.
“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”
He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.
“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”
You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”
“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”
“No way. You’re lying.”
“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”
“Hurts my ego.”
You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.
You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 
How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.
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Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 
Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.
“Ow,” he mutters.
His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.
For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.
You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.
He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.
He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.
Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.
Doyoung’s out of breath.
“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.
“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”
Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”
“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.
“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”
“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 
Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 
“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”
“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.
After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”
“I know,” Doyoung mutters.
Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.
“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.
Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”
There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.
“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.
“What?” he whispers.
Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.
“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”
Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.
“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”
Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.
“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.
“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”
A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.
It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.
Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.
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Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.
You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.
Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.
You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.
People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 
He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.
“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”
“I’m busy,” he hisses. 
Something’s wrong.
You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 
Inviting him somewhere. 
Rather sensually.
Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.
It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.
Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.
You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.
“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.
“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”
“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”
Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.
Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).
Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 
You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.
“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”
“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”
He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 
For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 
“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”
He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”
Busy. Right.
“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”
“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.
“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”
“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.
“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”
You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”
“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”
“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.
“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  
“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.
“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”
You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 
“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.
You blink.
“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.
He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.
“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 
Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.
“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”
You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”
“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 
You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.
“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”
“No,” you respond, checking your watch.
“Oh.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.
“Then we can- uh- we can—”
“Fuck?” you ask.
He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”
You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.
It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.
Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”
“Tell me you drove here.” 
He holds up his car keys in response.
You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.
So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”
You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.
“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”
And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.
The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.
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Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.
It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.
You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.
You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 
You’re disappointing. 
You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.
You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.
For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 
Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.
Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 
Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.
It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.
When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.
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“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 
The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.
Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”
Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.
You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.
“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”
“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 
You feel something close to guilt.
“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”
The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.
“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.
“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”
You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”
“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.
Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.
“I guess you’re right.”
You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”
“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”
You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 
“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.
“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.
You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”
“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 
You blink. “Fresher… girls?”
“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.
You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”
You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.
“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”
Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 
“You do that a lot,” he notes.
“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)
The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 
“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”
You look up at Doyoung amused.
“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”
“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 
It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.
The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.
“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.
“As what, the start point?”
A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”
You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 
For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 
So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.
“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.
“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.
You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.
Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 
You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.
Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.
When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.
“(name). Is something wrong?”
“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 
Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.
You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 
He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.
“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.
You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 
Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 
“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”
For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 
“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”
“I know,” he whispers.
Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.
He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.
“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 
You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.
“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”
Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.
“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”
You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 
Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.
“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.
You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.
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“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.
Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”
“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”
“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”
You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.
“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”
“That’s it?” he asks.
You nod.
No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.
Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 
A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  
“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.
The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.
You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.
There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.
You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.
And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.
You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 
It’s hard to love the same way now.
You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 
It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.
Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 
The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.
The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 
You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.
It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.
“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”
His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.
Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?
You sigh in response, nodding. 
“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”
I’m here and I get it.
Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 
Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.
Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.
And now, this has gotten complicated.
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An end.
Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.
“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”
His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.
Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?
‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 
He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.
But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.
The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.
He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.
“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”
Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 
“Ten?”
He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.
“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 
Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 
“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.
When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.
“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.
Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.
“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”
Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”
“What the fuck happened?”
Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”
“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”
“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”
Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”
“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”
“You set that up?”
“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 
Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.
“So?”
Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”
“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.
Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.
“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”
“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”
It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.
Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 
He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 
So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.
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With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 
“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 
Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”
“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”
He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”
You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”
“That’s exactly what I did!” 
You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.
“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 
You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.
“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”
You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 
“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”
You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.
You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.
No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.
Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 
For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.
You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.
Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.
“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.
“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.
Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.
“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”
“That you’re fucking other people?”
“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”
“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”
You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”
“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”
Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.
“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”
“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”
“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”
“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”
“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”
“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.
You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?
“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”
“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”
You bite down your lip. “What kind?”
Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”
It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.
“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”
“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.
You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.
“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”
You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 
“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”
“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 
“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”
Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.
“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”
You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 
Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”
You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.
The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.
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You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.
Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.
You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 
‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.
Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 
You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.
It’s December again. 
This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.
You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?
Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.
There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.
You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 
Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.
“(name).”
You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 
“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.
He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”
“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.
It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.
“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.
“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.
He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 
 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.
“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.
The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 
Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.
You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.
“You’re not smoking,” he notes.
“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.
Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”
“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”
Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”
A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.
“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”
Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”
You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”
“I loved you on purpose.”
You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 
“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”
You scan his face for signs of lying.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 
Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”
You let yourself crack a smile.
“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”
Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.
“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”
You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.
“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”
“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”
Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.
“You’re warm,” he says.
He’s warmer.
“I want to kiss you,” he says.
You want to kiss him too.
“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.
“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”
Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”
You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”
Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”
The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 
“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”
“Oh? I wonder what it was.”
“Kind of a long story.”
“I’ve got all the time for you.”
You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 
2K notes · View notes
readyplayerhobi · 3 years
Text
La Douleur Exquise
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; Horse Hybrid!Taehyung x Lovebird Hybrid!Reader
; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut
; Warnings: Penetrative sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, impregnation kink, filmed sex
; Word Count: 14.9k
; Synopsis: Taehyung is in love with his best friend. The problem? He’s a stallion, a horse hybrid who’s basic instinct is to collect a herd of women to protect and procreate. His best friend is a lovebird hybrid and they mate for life. He knows it’s pretty much impossible to be together and that you’d end up hurt, but what happens when he finds out you love him just as much?
; A/N: So, my first fic in like...two months? I started this fic in early July and honestly...I just wanted it finished. If it seems a bit disjointed or something then it was very stop and start...I hope you all enjoy it anyway and that it doesn’t disappoint or anything! It’s taken a WHILE for me to get back into writing (honestly, I almost left lol). Please reblog if you enjoyed and leave me comments and asks!
-
“Oh...fuck. Fuck, you’re so big, mmm,” The girl on her hands and knees in front of Taehyung moaned, her ass wiggling in desperation as he thrust his hard cock into her soaked pussy. “Harder, please. Please, fuck me harder.”
He hissed as she clenched around him, his entire length disappearing with ease inside her as his hips moved rhythmically. Large hands groped at the globes of her ass, squeezing them and spreading them wide to give the best view possible. Grunting, he slapped at one cheek hard and smirked when she yelped, jerking slightly.
“Such a pretty girl, so pliant and willing, hmm?” Taehyung questioned, his voice low and brusque as he moved hard enough to cause the room to be filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin. “A greedy pussy, so eager for your stallion to get you in foal, aren’t you?” 
She moaned in response, her face unseen to him but her body reacted by squeezing around his cock once more. Running one hand along her spine, he hummed in delight before leaning forward and biting down on her shoulder. It was instinctual, something deep in his genes telling him to hold her steady while he filled her up and impregnated her.
His other hand moved down to her clit, the bundle of nerves still soft and silky with her excitement but also swollen hard with her impending orgasm. Years of experience let his fingertips find the exact spot he needed, swirling them in quick circles and making her cry out even louder, hips bucking beneath him.
“That’s a good mare,” He panted, trailing his nose along her neck slowly. “Come for me, come on, you can do it. Tighten that pussy around me and I’ll breed you as you want.” 
Her orgasm hit seconds later, body convulsing tightly around him and he grunted, hips jerking forward even more rapidly. She was whining, a babbling mess beneath him as he continued to stimulate her, the effects being just as pleasurable for him too until he too came.
Pressing into her hard, he felt the slight resistance of what must be her uterus against the tip of his cock but she didn’t complain of any pain. One of the benefits of being a fellow horse hybrid was that a mare was biologically compatible with the large cock stallions had. One hand held her hips steady, making sure she didn’t move away as his balls convulsed rhythmically, each time causing his cock to twitch as he continued to ejaculate inside her.
She was breathing hard now, her body covered in a fine layer of sweat that caught the light perfectly and he hummed in appreciation, finally feeling the end of his orgasm. Slowly, he pushed himself upright and licked at his lips as he gave a few, shallow thrusts to wring out his final moments of pleasure and also make sure she got all of his cum.
“You were a good girl for me. We’ll get a nice colt or filly from you.” He mutters, stroking along her back appreciatively. Her skin was darker in certain patches and lighter in others, a result of her American Paint Horse breeding. It was pretty and he let his fingers trail along with the colour distinction.
Finally, though, he pulled out. The noise as he did so was extremely wet, but that was nothing compared to the rush of thick, white cum that slipped out of her used pussy. Pursing his lips, he looked it over carefully before dragging his fingers through some of it and pushing it back inside her. It didn’t matter, stallions were renowned for the large amount of semen they produced and she was probably filled inside.
“And cut!” Called the director, his voice interrupting the silence of the set. Taehyung let out an immediate sigh of relief and sat back, his cock rapidly softening now that the scene was over. His co-star sat up with a groan, stretching to get out the kinks in her back from the position she’d been in for the last ten minutes.
As she did so, the trickle of cum once more became a torrent, slipping down her thighs to collect on the bed. She didn’t pay attention to it and he didn’t say anything, the two of them used to scenes like this by now. Wheein was a consummate professional and one of the best in the porn industry, just like Taehyung.
“That was a good scene,” She complimented him, smiling in gratitude to her assistant who brought a robe that she used to cover herself up with. “Even if the whole ‘dirty talk’ is a little overdone nowadays.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes in agreement, grinning as he accepted the cleaning wipes from his assistant. Without a care in the world, he began to wipe his cock clean as he continued on his discussion with Wheein. She was quickly wiping down her thighs and between her legs as well. They’d both clean up more properly when they went to their dressing rooms but he wouldn’t be seeing her again after this.
Not unless they worked on the same set again.
“Right? It’s so fucking cringe. I wish they’d hire someone who’s an equine if they’re going to write a script featuring two of us. Who even talks like that?” He muttered, tugging on his robe and tying it closed before slipping his feet into the sandals provided to him.
The laugh Wheein gives is sweet, making her entire face light up. She really is a beautiful woman and her body is equally divine, only made even better by her kind and bubbly personality. Not that she’d been able to show that during this scene of course.
It struck Taehyung that she’d probably make a good mare for his herd. Despite the fact they were lamenting how lame the script was that they’d been given, there were some truths to what they’d filmed. A stallion like Taehyung would actively seek out fertile mares from good stock for his herd to breed with.
The better quality the mare’s breeding, the better his foals would be. 
At least, that’s what horse hybrids were meant to do. Wheein would probably even agree to it if he asked. He knew that she wasn’t in a herd already and she’d made it pretty clear to him that she’d be open to something outside of their work if he wanted. His deeply-rooted instincts demanded that he take her home and breed her properly, but he just sighed deeply instead.
He may be a horse hybrid, with all the possessive and protective instincts that provided him as a stallion, but he had no actual interest in living his life like that. Which is why he makes a little more small talk with Wheein before leaving to go to his dressing room. The shower he takes is quick, making sure to rub viciously at his body as he tries his hardest to remove any scent of the mare he’d just fucked.
Hybrids were something that had been created long ago. So long ago, no one knew how they were made anymore. The knowledge had been lost in the Hybrid Revolution, three centuries ago when hybrids had refused to be slaves for their human masters anymore. Ever since they’d been treated as equals to everyone else in society.
That didn’t mean that they’d integrated fully of course. Hybrids of different species more often than not stayed with each other or mated with humans. It did happen though, but the differing instincts meant it often was better for a hybrid to simply stay within their species.
Something Taehyung had always found amusing though was the fact that even within their species, a lot of hybrids would only mate within their own ‘breed’. Wheein was a pure American Paint Horse, coming from a long line that could be traced back to when the humans had been breeding horse hybrids for manual labour, protection services and sports purposes.
Back then, the humans treated hybrids exactly like actual horses. They had a studbook and would breed stallions to certain mares to produce characteristics they wanted. Placid nature, easy to work with, intelligent, quick to learn and so forth. When they’d been released, the breeds had continued on the studbooks to this day.
There were plenty who didn’t follow that ideology, of course, Taehyung’s parents were not the same breed after all, but a lot seemed to put stock in being ‘purebred’. It was just another way to act superior in his opinion.
Besides, his parents may not be from the same breed but he was still technically a breed all of his own. His mother was an Arabian while his father a Thoroughbred, meaning he was a breed called an Anglo-Arab. That was considered a breed in its own right, though perhaps not as prestigious as either of his parents.
Whatever he didn’t care about all that. Taehyung had no real interest in following the cultural norms of his heritage. And the reason for that was waiting for him back at his apartment. The thought of that spurred him into cleaning up even faster, making sure he was squeaky clean before pulling on the clothes he’d removed earlier in the day.
Glancing in the mirror once finished, he sighed deeply and looked himself over. A quirk of his kind was that they looked distinctly hybrid in ways that didn’t match others.
A dog hybrid may have the ears of a spaniel while a cat could have the tail of a Persian. Horse hybrids didn’t have any of their animal counterpart’s physical characteristics though, no tails or ears or anything like that. But their animal genes had manifested uniquely in their skin and hair.
If someone was a bay then they would have brown skin in a range of shades while their lower arms, legs and the space around their mouths and nose would be even darker and their hair a luscious black. Taehyung blended a little better than most other horse hybrids, but for others like Wheein, it was more obvious. Her skin was covered in patches of alternating dark and light while her natural hair grew in white and dark brown.
He knew that certain breeds had distinct characteristics as well. An old high school friend was a Friesian with coal-black skin and the most luxuriously thick, wavy black hair. One of his Taehyung’s siblings, on the other hand, had a Lipizzaner mare in his herd; her skin and hair was snow white. It certainly made them easily identifiable.
Taehyung wasn’t quite so obvious. His palomino colouring was visible; pale white hair that was a little too long and softly tousled matched with rich golden skin. Broad shoulders tapered down into a slim waist, currently covered in a loose white button-up. His hair was still wet, dripping onto his shirt while his strong thighs and calves were contained within equally loose-fitting tan trousers. 
He didn’t look like someone who’d just filmed pornography, but then again, what did that look anyway? Just a person? Still, he felt a small sense of satisfaction at how well he was going to blend. The last thing he wanted was to go home and have it look obvious what he’d just been doing, even if it was his job.
Chewing on his lip, he grabs his leather cross shoulder bag and exits the dressing room. He promised to get takeout tonight, and he wasn’t going to renege on that deal.
-
“I have food!” Taehyung calls out, placing the bag of takeout he’d just picked up on the kitchen counter before shrugging off his jacket. By the time he gets back from hanging it up, you’ve already emerged from your bedroom and are pulling plates out of the cupboard while trying to see what he’d gotten.
“What did you get? Chinese?” Looking up at him with a raised brow, Taehyung’s heart stutters for a moment at just how pretty you are. There’s not a trace of makeup on your face right now, you didn’t bother when you were at home, and yet you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Like him, you were also a hybrid. The two of you had met in the first class of freshman year in college and had quickly become best friends, despite the differences between you both. He’d also fallen deeply in love with you at some point, even though he knew nothing could happen.
Just as he was driven by the instinct to have sex with multiple women to form a herd, you were driven by your instincts. Only yours were dictated by your lovebird genetics, which meant that you were strictly monogamous. As in, once you entered a relationship and truly fell in love with them then you would never have another relationship.
The antithesis of a horse hybrid then. Taehyung had long known that it meant he would never be able to be with you the way he wanted. You craved monogamy and it simply wasn’t in his genes.
So he’d stayed your best friend, and for the last five years since finishing college, he’d also remained your roommate. The two of you shared a mid-sized apartment in the city centre, close to the university that you worked at as a music professor and within easy driving distance of his workplace.
“No, there’s a new Ethiopian place that’s opened close to work. Seokjin was telling me about it it’s a vegan restaurant and I thought it’d be cool to try it out. No idea what you’d like, or what I’d like, so I just got a bunch of things to try.” Smiling at you, he starts to pull out the carefully packaged food and chuckles as you ‘ooh’ at it all.
“Oooh, I’ve never had Ethiopian food before. I’m excited.” And then you turn that blinding smile onto him and he has to let out a deep breath as slowly as possible to stop himself from doing something silly. He’s long been used to his feelings yet you still make him feel like a teenager again.
Once everything’s out, the two of you take it over to the little table that’s set up between the kitchen and the living room and lay it all out. You quickly dart over to the fridge and grab some water for the two of you before settling down and humming in excitement as everything is unpackaged.
Like Taehyung, you didn’t have many physical attributes of your animal side. Which would have been exceptionally strange given the difference between humans and birds. What you did have though, were black irises to match your pupils and the most exquisitely beautifully coloured hair. The front was a blend of peach, yellow and red which slowly morphed into the familiar lovebird green.
It was all-natural and incredibly pretty, suiting your face and personality so well. The original purpose of lovebird hybrids had been as companions due to their loyalty to their partner alongside musical pursuits. Not everyone was great at music but more often than not, lovebird hybrids tended to excel at singing.
Taehyung loved to hear you sing. Or play the piano or any of the other instruments you’d learnt how to play over the years. You were practically a prodigy when it came to the musical arts and he would forever be in awe of just how talented you were.
Your singing was one of the reasons he’d fallen for you so quickly; your buoyant and always effervescent personality had made him determined to befriend the sweet lovebird hybrid in his class. But it was your singing that had truly captured his heart.
The sweet sound of your voice could be as light as a dandelion seed on a summer breeze or swell as loud and strong as a hurricane. He’d been immediately fascinated the moment he’d first heard you sing and it had never let him go. Taehyung genuinely couldn’t imagine his life anymore without hearing your singing around the apartment; from the quiet songs when you were concentrating to the ones you belted out when you were in a happy mood.
He loved it all. As cheesy as it would sound, he just knew that his life would be dull and quiet without his music-obsessed, colourful, chatty best friend. Which was why he couldn’t give up the small hope of something with you. It was a tiny chance, but as long as you remained unattached then it was there all the same and he would grab onto it tightly.
“Did your shoot go well today?” You distract him out of his wayward thoughts with your question and it takes a few seconds of it to truly penetrate his mind and for him to understand. Almost immediately though, it causes him to twist his lips as he begins to spoon out the food he wants from the containers onto his injera, Ethiopian flatbread, that covers his plate. He hated talking about his job to you. It was like a reminder of what he couldn’t have every time.
But he was a big boy, so he took in a deep breath before looking back at you and giving you his trademark boxy smile. 
“It went okay, nothing went wrong which is always a good thing. Wheein was nice and very pleasant to work with, good at her job. The script was just as bad as I originally thought.” Snorting at the memory, he takes a mouthful of food and chews thoughtfully as he takes in the new flavours.
“Let me guess...full of lots of over-the-top horse innuendos and dirty talk?” Chuckling to yourself, you take a drink of cold water before tilting to your head to look him over carefully. Taehyung pauses, unsure of himself for a second before quirking his brow at you.
“Yeah, something like that. I shouldn’t be complaining really...no one watches what I make for the dialogue.” He’s very aware that there’s a slight pout to his lips as he looks back down at his plate, missing the way your expression changes to one of sympathy and protectiveness.
“Well...true I guess, but you’re a great actor outside of that. And I’m not just saying that to you because you’re my best friend TaeTae. You’re genuinely good.” Now he does look at you, taking in the way you look at him with concern and he feels a flare of guilt rise in his stomach. Taehyung would never let you know that the only reason he’d started to work in the pornography industry during college was so that he could satiate his desires without dating multiple women or accidentally creating a herd.
The fact that he was still doing it, seven years after beginning, was because he still held out hope. He knew that he could’ve been something better, entered the world of television or film acting, maybe even theatre. But it would have meant having to flaunt an unending trail of women in front of you.
At least he had a valid and acceptable reason for fucking so many women as a pornstar. The fact that he had no emotional connection to the women who worked alongside him now was a bonus, allowing you to see that he was more than capable of leaving his work in the studio.
Giving you a tight smile, Taehyung nods his head in appreciation. “Thanks, chirp. I appreciate it. And I know, but I think it’s too late now. Too old, you know?” 
“Pfft, no way. There are loads of actors who didn’t start their careers until they were older! And no offence, but you’re a guy so you’ve got the kind of lifespan that most women aren’t allowed. You’re only twenty-nine!” The outraged response from you is almost immediate, the piece of injera almost flying out of your hand at your reaction.
Thankfully, you’d just eaten the vegetable wat that you’d scooped up already so there wasn’t any risk of the floor or wall being decorated with Ethiopian stew. That would just be a waste of some good food in Taehyung’s opinion.
But that was irrelevant. 
What was relevant was your vehement defence of Taehyung and his talents. The two of you had had this conversation many times over the years and yet it never failed to make him smile. You were adamant he could do better and he knew that he could too. But he didn’t want to. Despite how good his acting was, he had no real interest in actually taking it up as a career outside of porn.
He didn’t care for the lifestyle or travelling or fame. Porn worked well for him at the moment. It satisfied his instincts, it paid well enough and he had a manager that ensured Taehyung only received the best directors, co-stars and films.
What Taehyung would love to do, was to work in fashion design. He loved putting together interesting and unique looks while also thinking up ideas for clothes. His best friend, Jimin, had started a clothing brand of his own a few years ago thanks to the money his parents had loaned him. It was doing pretty well so far and Jimin was constantly sad that Taehyung wouldn’t join him.
The older man, he was only two months older but that meant everything to Park Jimin, had tried everything he could think of to lure his best friend into his company. From offering a creative director role to his sub-brand that would operate almost independently from the parent brand, Calico. And Taehyung had promised him that he’d accept one day.
He would as well. Just not yet. It wasn’t time yet. 
“Thanks. Anyway, how was your day? Didn’t you say you had some exams this morning or something?” His segue into another conversation works like a charm and you happily begin to complain about the exams that you’d given your freshman students today. It still boggled his mind that you’d willingly insert yourself into college life again, even if it was in a teaching role but you seemed to thrive in the social aspect of it all.
The two of you continue to talk until there’s no food left, every single piece happily was eaten. Admittedly, most of it was eaten by Taehyung as he had a far larger appetite than you did. It was even bigger today given the workout he’d done during his work hours but you’d been content to hand over what you didn’t want to eat anymore.
Or rather, you’d been content to feed him what you didn’t want. Something he’d had to get used to very early on in his friendship with you was that you retained the instinct to feed those you were close to. That’s what you’d told him anyway, though if he was to be entirely honest he hadn’t seen you feed anyone else before.
Then again, none of the friends you both shared in common was the kind of people who would accept being fed, no matter how much they liked you.
It’s a few hours later that you’re both ready to go to bed; eyes sleepy and movements slow after watching three episodes of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina while curled up beneath the couch blanket as you both digest your food. Taehyung could have happily fallen asleep where he was, the warmth of you not close enough for him to feel but your scent strong enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.
“I’m going to bed.” You say loudly, causing him to jerk awake quickly as you push the blanket off your body and stand up. It’s not as quick as you’d normally be but the stretch you give combined with the extraordinarily big yawn lets him know you’re pretty tired.
Not a surprise. It was after 11 pm now and you’d been up since 5:30 am to make sure you had everything set for your classes. A slight wobble as you lose your balance causes him to jump up, resting a hand on the small of your back gently to provide careful assistance while he reaches for the remote with his other to turn off the television.
“Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Taehyung chuckles, kicking away the blanket which had also become tangled around your feet. A quiet hum from you lets him know that you’re more tired than he’d initially thought.
Not saying anything more, he runs his free hand through the pale blonde strands of his hair as he directs you towards your bedroom. The door is closed to the outside world, unlike his, but the interior is familiar to him once you open it up.
One of the habits you had that came from your lovebird side was that you liked to nest. Which meant your bedroom had everything you loved arranged exactly how you wanted it. Your bed was a canopy style, completely cocooned away from the world except for the entrance. He’d been in once or twice to wake you up when you’d been late for something and he would admit to being fascinated by just how dark and...comfy it all looked.
Soft sheets, multiple fluffy pillows and more covered the top of your bed. He’d love to see what it was like to sleep in it one night because it looked like it could easily be one of the comfiest nights of sleep he’s ever had. A bonus would be if you slept next to him.
One of the more fortunate, or unfortunate depending on how you looked at it, aspects of his heritage was that Taehyung could sleep anywhere. He’d even been known to sleep standing up, which meant that he wasn’t that bothered about what his sleeping space looked like.
Taehyung knew it was something of an honour for him to be even allowed in your bedroom, to be honest, given how protective and territorial you got over your own space. It had been amusing for him to realise this at first, particularly given he wasn’t particularly bothered when it came to his own physical space but upon realising you wouldn’t let anyone else in, he’d used it as a badge of pride.
To himself, of course. No one else would care or even be surprised that your best friend and roommate was the only person allowed in.
Shaking his head, he wishes you goodnight before closing your door quietly and heading to the bathroom for his nightly ritual. The downside to being a porn actor was that he had to follow a proper skincare routine to make sure his skin looked the best. Because obviously, people were paying attention to his beautiful face instead of his massive dick.
Not.
Still, it helped to book more shoots. He had a ‘statuesque’ face that appealed to women or something. So he went along with it and had, admittedly, fantastic skin as a result.
The last thought before he finally fell asleep was that he was pretty sure the oversized black sweatpants you’d been wearing were his.
-
Taehyung doesn’t get to see a whole lot of you in the next few weeks. He’d ended up having to travel for a shoot that lasted a week and by the time he got back, you were on a much-needed vacation with your friends. As such, he was getting a little grumpy at the lack of interaction with you.
Which was entirely the reason that he’d almost jumped on top of you when you’d finally walked through the apartment door; three long weeks after seeing you last. You’d let him know that you’d be coming home today and he’d had to wait as patiently as he could on the couch, pouting at the fact you hadn’t accepted his offer of going to the airport to meet you.
But with everything in the apartment turned off, he’d used his superior hearing to the best of his abilities and had listened as hard as possible for your footsteps. After so many years, he knew exactly what you sounded like when you walked.
So when he finally heard that familiar beat, alongside the rolling of the wheels on your suitcase, he’d leapt up. There may even be a hole in the wall from how forcefully he’d yanked the door open, his excitement causing him to not pay attention to his strength for a moment before he’s giving you the biggest and brightest grin he possibly can.
“I missed youuuuuu!” Whining loudly, Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist and lifts. The squeal you let out soon dissolves into laughter when he spins you around, mentally marvelling once more at how light you were while his sense went haywire with you so close again. He could feel the softness of your hips as he lets you down, smell the soft peach of your shampoo along with the slight hint of sweat after so long travelling. 
It was perfect, and something deep within him relaxed.
You were home. You were safe.
“I missed you too, Tae! Can I please actually come in?” Your laughter is sweet, infectious as always and he stands to the side to let you enter the apartment. Without even asking, he gently takes the handle of your suitcase from you and lifts it with no complaints, heading over to your bedroom.
Given he’s not facing you anymore, he doesn’t see the way you practically swoon at the sight of him using his strength so casually. Or the way you almost drool at his broad shoulders in the plain white shirt he’d thrown on today, the muscles working in a way that made your hands twitch.
“Did you have a good time? Please tell me that Yeji doesn’t have some embarrassing story again this year,” While your yearly vacations with your friends were mostly for sunbathing and catching up, he knew that you all enjoyed re-enacting some college years and that copious amounts of alcohol were drunk. “And I’m not saying about you, I mean just embarrassing full stop. I’m still feeling secondary embarrassment over two years ago.”
“A story which will forever remain buried, thank you very much. But no, we were good this year. Or rather, we weren’t good but I think we’re starting to get a little too old to be drinking so heavily, you know? We can’t recuperate the same way and I get hangovers way too easily. I do not have the physiology to cope with their drinking levels!” There’s a slight whine to your voice, making him smile in amusement as he moves over to lean against the doorway of your room.
While he was fully welcome into your space, he knew that you liked it to be your own. Especially when you’d been away for a while.
“Well, I mean...you are a lovebird. I don’t think there are many alcohol-tolerant birds out there.” That gets him a subtle glare, your pretty lips puckered into a pout. It’s an innocent action, something that shouldn’t bother him in the slightest, and yet his heart stutters and his stomach twists on itself.
What he wouldn’t give to kiss you.
Shaking his head, he tries to force the thoughts out of his mind. Honestly, he was perfectly fine when he was away from you. But when you were around, it was like you were all he could think about. Still, it was hard not to when you looked at him so fondly.
“True. There’s no need to point that out though. Salt in the wound much? Anyway, it was fun. They kept trying to get me to swim in the sea but like...no thank you. Water is for drinking and washing, not for swimming around in.” You’re crouched down, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out the dirty clothes before separating them into the individual bins you have.
Unlike Taehyung, who simply separated his clothes when it came time to wash them, you were very tidy and had bought fancy clothes hamper with three sections. This was probably why Taehyung would accidentally end up with a shrunken shirt or pink underwear from time to time. You paid far more attention to that stuff.
“Swimming is fun though.” Is all he responds with, standing back when you carry the laundry hampers past him. Putting the colours into the washing machine, he watches quietly as you add everything before turning it on. It was fascinating how you’d only been home for less than ten minutes and yet you were already cleaning things up.
Not that he’d made the apartment untidy or anything. It’s just you had a different idea of what was clean to him.
“Okay but, you can say that because you’ve got those shoulders to cut through the water. Not to mention you’re strong anyway. Not so fun for the rest of us. And I don’t mind swimming in a pool. Where I can see the bottom and the size is posted. The ocean though? That’s huge. No thanks.” Smirking, he flops down onto the couch and sighs happily when you push him up before sitting down yourself, letting him rest his head on your thighs.
There was no convincing you though and Tae gave up on the argument pretty quickly, not that he was trying too hard. One thing he’d learnt long ago was that you were perhaps the most stubborn person he’d ever known. It was an endearing trait, most of the time.
“Did you audition for that role?” Your question is innocent, soft fingers trailing through his hair that would have him purring if he was a cat hybrid. Instead, it was just making him get the urge to groom you in turn, his fingers twitching with the need. Ignoring it, he forced himself to just enjoy the touch.
“Yeah. Not sure if I’ve got it though. I got the feeling they weren’t looking for someone like me in the role.” It wasn’t surprising really and he wasn’t offended by the producers of the film he’d gone for. Even porn wanted specific people for specific roles sometimes; it would be silly to think he could get every role he went for.
Not to mention exhausting.
“Well, they’re missing out then,” You say, scratching his scalp until he hums in delight. “Anyone who doesn’t want you is missing out.”
Your words make his heart jump, his breath stuttering as he inhales and wonders if there’s a double meaning to that. But you’re too busy watching the show that you’ve started on Netflix to notice Taehyung’s existential dilemma. Part of him is glad, but there’s another part that wishes he was brave enough to bring it up.
He chooses not to engage with it though, instead just sighing and letting himself relax into the cushions of the couch. It’s nice to be surrounded by your scent once more and to feel your warmth.
“I appreciate that, Chirp. But I’m not letting it get me down. Sometimes they just can’t handle all this.” Gesturing half-heartedly to his body, he’s pleased to hear you laugh at his joke. The sound is sweet, even if the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence after that. 
You’re too busy watching your show while he’s half dozing off, eyes closed and breath getting deeper as he starts to drift away. It’s comfortable on the couch, with the temperature just right and his body perfectly relaxed. Which means it’s unsurprising that he falls asleep pretty quickly, completely unaware of anything that’s happening around him as he sleeps.
-
Taehyung is more than a little disoriented when he finally awakens; the room dark and silent with the lights and television switched off. Frowning, he blinks rapidly before rubbing at his eyes with a hand while sitting up. Stretching his arms out above his head, the groan he lets out is one of relief as stiff muscles relax and a few bones crack.
Reaching out to the coffee table blindly, he grabs his phone and winces when the bright light almost blinds him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been hugely blessed with the better night sight horses had. Well, he could see better than humans but nothing amazing. Didn’t make it any better when he was subjected to bright light suddenly though.
“Ah, fuck.” He curses, squinting until he can finally focus on the screen. It’s not too late, but it’s a good two hours or so since you’d finally gotten home. Frowning, he just sits there for a moment as his mind finally catches up with the fact he is awake.
Yawning loudly, he finally pulls himself up and decides he should probably go shower before collapsing into bed. Taehyung hadn’t even realised he was tired, but it could have been the comfort of knowing you were back and safe. It wasn’t like he was some over-protective asshole who needed to know your every movement - more that he just felt more content when he knew you were okay.
Walking to his room, he’s scratching at his exposed stomach lazily when he hears the sound of your voice. The door leading to your bedroom is firmly closed but there’s light at the gap on the bottom. His enhanced hearing means that he can easily hear everything you’re saying, which is nothing new.
Over the years though, he’s learnt to carefully block out anything you’re saying when you’re in your room. You deserved your privacy, even if he couldn’t help the fact that he could hear everything perfectly.
And that would have been exactly what he would have done right now. Just carried on through to his bedroom and continued with his plans. Only he can’t help but stop when he hears the familiar syllables of his name. Taehyung knows it’s wrong, but the way you said it is different than normal.
He can’t help but listen, expression curious and his head tilting without even realising it. Your conversation is one-sided but he pays careful attention, still in the middle of the hallway.
“-you know Taehyung, he’s always being attentive and sweet. It’s just his nature, he’s like that with everyone. Yuna...it’s just Tae. He hugs everyone, you’re looking too much into it,” There’s a longer pause now, presumably your best friend talking extensively to you. “Come on, isn’t that what you always tell me? We haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s not surprising he got all touchy.”
Taehyung frowns, lips twisting as he begins to understand a little. Or at least, he thinks he does. If he’s right, Yuna thinks that he likes you. His cheeks heat up as he realises how obvious he’d been with his feelings, even though you make a good argument against it. But you’re wrong and Yuna is very much right.
He does like you, and he’s not quite as touchy-feely with everyone else. Taehyung isn’t even sure how you got that opinion. The only other person he’s remotely as affectionate with is Jimin, and that’s only because he’s known the calico cat hybrid since they were babies. Tae’s mom had worked with Jimin’s mom for decades now, which meant they’d grown up with each other.
“Yuna,” Your whining now, voice going high pitched and your words getting longer. “I thought you were the one who was telling me that I need to get over Tae! And now you’re telling me he’s obviously into me? Make up your mind, woman! Do you want me to ignore my feelings for him or consider telling him? And no, you can’t backtrack in a week or so like you always do. This is serious. I’d be humiliating myself by telling him.”
It’s almost like the world has paused around Taehyung. For a second, he almost feels dizzy and has to rest a palm against the wall as he sways. Your feelings...for him? Did he hear that right? Was he twisting your words into what he hoped you were implying?
Before he can contemplate it anymore in his mind, you go on to say something that shatters the norm for Taehyung.
“It would be humiliating Yuna, you know that. You know what I am, we’ve talked about this. God, I can’t tell Taehyung I love him because then that’s it, I’ve sealed my fate and I won’t be able to get over him. It’s already hard just trying. Having him know? I can’t, not when he can’t give me what I want.” There’s a pain in your voice and his heart twists, stomach bubbling in a way that almost makes him want to vomit as his world changes.
You love him. You.  Love. Him.
“It’s not his fault Yuna, we’ve gone through this so many times. I have my instincts and he has his, I’m not going to get angry at something we can’t change. Please...can we just talk about something else? Something that’s not going to make me cry and spend all night thinking? We agreed that we’d try to get me over this, dammit.”
That’s the last thing Taehyung hears as he walks quickly back to his room, having decided that he’s heard far too much of a conversation he clearly shouldn’t have heard. Guilt roils in him, flooding his veins as he flops down onto his bed and stares at the white ceiling of his room. He feels dazed and confused, not sure what he’s meant to think about this sudden change in events.
Taehyung being in love with you was something he’d long ago accepted. But he’d also accepted that nothing would happen from it because of what you wanted in life. Finding out that you wanted him too was game-changing. It was also heartbreaking to know that the only reason you both weren’t together already was because of his instincts.
Suddenly, he sees his career in a whole new light. What was a coping mechanism for him to reduce his innate desires and allow him to give you all the best bits of himself, was probably pure pain for you. The knowledge that you loved him was both exciting and, surprisingly, horrifying.
He knew that love birds would only have one partner, and from what he’d read over the years it meant they only really truly loved one person. If you felt this strongly for Taehyung then did that mean he’d stolen any other choices from you? He’d been holding back to make sure you had a chance to be happy but had he just made it worse?
Swallowing thickly, Taehyung realises there are tears in his eyes as he wonders if he’s ruined everything. The logical part of his mind knows that it’s not his fault if you’ve fallen in love with him, just like it wasn’t your fault he’d fallen for you. But he certainly hadn’t done anything to truly push you away, to try and get you to find someone else to fall in love with and enjoy a happy life.
Had he been selfish? 
Rolling onto his stomach, he buries his head into his pillow and lets out a yell. It’s a good job your hearing is only on the level of a normal human because he was positive the extended noise he made would have brought you running otherwise. And he needed to think right now.
There’s probably a solid ten minutes of silence in his room as he lays there, unmoving while his mind races through all his options. If he admitted that he’d overheard you, then he would probably embarrass you. Taehyung would jump at the chance to finally date you, but he knew that you wouldn’t be able to cope with his career.
You were supportive of him now, but you weren’t in a romantic relationship with him. And he doubted you would be comfortable with the knowledge that he was coming home to kiss, cuddle and have sex with you after having done the same things with random women earlier in the day.
If he was honest with himself then Taehyung knew that he wouldn’t be happy with that too. Despite how he was raised, his mom had been one of many mares in the herd his father had kept over the years, he wanted to be the one for you. Which meant he wouldn’t be content to do things with other women that you only wanted to be done.
He wanted the traditional relationship that many horse hybrids would wrinkle their nose at.
So, he had to figure out how to navigate that.
Lifting himself, he grabs his phone and opens up Google. Taehyung didn’t know many horse hybrid’s who wanted to have a monogamous relationship, but he had met a few over the years. Racking his brain, he tries to remember what they had talked about when he’d queried how they could cope with only being with one partner for life.
Despite his interest in the topic, he’d been young at the time and had still very much enjoyed sleeping with as many women as he could. His feelings for you hadn’t quite become what they were today, so he hadn’t listened too intently. Taehyung regretted that now. Tapping his lips for a moment, he contemplates what to write before he begins to type his request into the search engine.
Horse hybrid hormone inhibitors.
-
It’s three weeks later when Taehyung finally feels comfortable and knowledgeable enough to make a move. He’d made an appointment with his doctor the very next day after overhearing your conversation. He specialised in hybrid care, in particular those for equine hybrids like Taehyung along with the rare donkey or zebra.
Which meant he wasn’t all that shocked at Taehyung’s unusual enquiry. He probably got the occasional query from an equine hybrid about how to be monogamous. It was rare but not unheard of after all. What had shocked him though, was the fact that it was Taehyung asking it.
Kim Taehyung, the infamous porn star who had built a living on his ability to fuck his way through multiple women on camera. Who had his damn fanbase based almost purely on his cock for god’s sake? It was embarrassing to think about, but he’d known what he was getting into when he’d signed the contract in the first place.
He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy his job because he did. Taehyung hated that he did, but the sex with many women helped to alleviate all those deeply held instincts and urges within him. Still, now that he knew about you he had no intention of carrying on with his career. Not when he had a chance.
Which was why he’d admitted his feelings towards you to the doctor. Something he’d never thought he’d end up doing, but once everything was out in the open then his doctor was far more understanding of Taehyung’s request. Even encouraging of it. Taehyung was pretty sure that he found the whole story a little sweet and romantic.
Either way, they’d worked out a plan for him to make his life easier if you accepted him. Medications that he would need to take to reduce the overwhelming instincts that drive his hybrid nature and would allow him to engage in monogamy. The idea of that was unbelievably exciting and he’d begun to take his medication only days after the appointment.
After that, he’d gotten together with Jimin. Their weekly hangout usually occurred in a bar, a restaurant or sometimes just hanging around one of their apartments. His best friend had shrieked with delight when Taehyung had explained his predicament and what he was doing to go forward with.
Which had led him to finally asking Jimin if that job offer was still on the plate if everything went right. Taehyung wanted to finally pursue his dream of being a fashion designer and it was so tantalisingly close. He was on the verge of finally having the life he’d always wanted. Hopefully with you.
The first week of being on the medication, which reduced the high levels of testosterone he produced and helped to inhibit his base reactions, had been rough as hell. Taehyung had been on the verge of calling in sick for the first time to a shoot, his body struggling to cope with the change in his body. But he’d pushed through and two weeks later, here he was.
Nervous as fuck and waiting for you to finally come home. 
Everything all depended on if you’d accept his request to start a relationship. A serious, romantic relationship that was entirely monogamous. If you said yes, then he had a lawyer all set up to break his contract and a contract just waiting for him with Jimin.
Although really, he’d be quitting his job no matter what happened. He was tired of the porn scene, even if he’d met some wonderfully kind and talented people there. Taehyung had finally decided that he would be moving on with his life and accepting the job with Jimin.
It was up to you whether you wanted to be alongside him, and in what capacity.
The pizza he’d ordered for you both arrived at the same time you came home; a large box of vegetable pizza held in your hands and amusement in your pretty eyes. It makes him smile brightly to see you happy, knowing that you’re pleased he’d taken care of dinner tonight. Especially as it was from your favourite pizzeria; six different kinds of cheeses combined with peppers, onions, eggplant, tomatoes and spinach.
Your favourite kind of pizza, alongside a bottle of red wine that he’d already filled a glass with to let it breathe. The amusement soon turns to suspicion, your brow rising as you kick off your shoes and shrug off your coat.
“What’s all this about?” Gesturing at everything, you settle onto the couch next to him with your legs curled up beneath you. Taehyung bites his lip, sighing softly before reaching out and opening up the box. He doesn’t explain for a few minutes, just letting you both eat a slice of pizza while he watches his beer on the table.
He felt like a teenager, his stomach fizzing with a combination of excitement and nerves that almost makes him feel nauseous. Maybe he shouldn’t be eating right now, but he hasn’t been able to eat all day so far. There would be no use in making himself ill. It would be mortifying for him to throw up all over you.
By the time you’ve eaten two slices, Taehyung has only managed one. But he’s decided that he’s waited long enough. It’s time.
Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly before clearing his throat. After so many years of being friends, he knows that he can talk to you about anything. There are many memories that he’d much rather forget that you’d seen of him, such as that awkward time when he’d had an upset stomach and hadn’t been able to get to the bathroom quick enough.
Not his finest moment and you’d gagged more than once but hey, it was all a bonding experience. Right? Or was that just his opinion on it? 
Still, Taehyung found himself pausing; his words sticking in his throat even as he mentally told himself to pull it together. You’d seen all his low points and his highpoints, he did not doubt that you would treat his question with the respect it deserves. But it was still a worry that you might turn him down.
Maybe you’d finally found someone else and wouldn’t want him anymore. The thought made his chest hurt, but he had to know. He had to get the answer to the question that had burned in his thoughts for years now. If you rejected him then he’d be hurt but he’d get over it, especially if it meant you found your happiness.
So why was it so hard to get the words out?
“Hey, are you okay?” Your shoulder bumps into his, pretty face dipping low to catch his eyes. He should have known that you would have realised there was something wrong, or that he wasn’t quite being himself. The way you look at him with such worry and concern makes his anxiety melt away, causing him to smile before he nods.
“I have something to ask you. I mean...you can say no. Please don’t worry about that, if you don’t want to then tell me no. I’ll accept it, I promise. You know I’d never try to force you, right?” He winces, realising that he’s messing this up already given the way your brow creases in confusion. “I mean, god I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry. I just...I have to be honest with you. I accidentally overheard your conversation the other month. I didn’t mean to, it was when you’d come home after your vacation and I’d fallen asleep so I was going back to my room and I overheard you.”
Taehyung is babbling, and he realises that when you gently press a finger to his lips. It would be nice to say that you didn’t look bothered, but there was fear on your face that made him feel sick.
“I believe you.”
Your words are so soft and he almost hums in delight as you run your fingers through his hair, grooming him without even realising. It makes him smile, both at your steadfast belief in him and how you always want to be touching and cleaning him in some way. His fingers itched with the desire to groom you in turn.
He restrained himself, fully aware that if he did then it’d just end up being one half an hour of you both trying to clean each other. The perils of two social hybrids who both have a culture and instinct for grooming. Not what he wanted right now.
The reassurance you give him, combined with the unwavering belief in your eyes, convinces him to just say it. To just get it out and lay his cards on the table. He was nervous, sure, but he’d been nervous many times in his life and he’d overcome all of those moments.
“I heard you say that you like me. In a romantic way. I was really surprised at hearing it, mainly because I didn’t think you’d ever looked at me that way before. Not when I’m the opposite of what you’d want in terms of a relationship. But I want you to know that hearing it made me the happiest I’ve been in a while. Because I like you too. And I have done for a while now. Years.” He says it all with a carefully neutral face, watching you carefully to see if he can gauge your reaction.
For a moment, your expression is a perfect picture in neutrality. The Switzerland of faces, giving nothing away and not letting him see anything that’s going on in your head. It’s frustrating for him when he’s probably feeling too much, but he doesn’t push. Just waits to see what you’ll say.
“What?”
Okay, so perhaps not the eloquent acceptance of his feelings that he’d expected. But it’s not an outright rejection. He can work with this, there’s potential here. 
Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath before carefully shifting until he’s facing you on the couch. Your eyes are so wide, shining in the light and making him think it looks like you hold the secrets of the universe deep within. He can’t help but smile at it, at how young and innocent you look.
Smile at the tentative hope he thinks he can spy.
“I like you, Chirp. Like, like you. Probably would use a stronger word if I wasn’t already afraid I’m scaring you away. I know that I’m not what you’d want in a partner, which is why I’ve never made a move over the years. But I’ve always hoped, which is why I never got a herd of my own,
“I love being around you, I love hearing you sing and laugh, I love talking to you, I love hearing you talk to others, I love how you’re so affectionate and always want to groom me along with chatting my ears off. I never said anything though, because most of all, I valued our friendship. And I knew that you wanted someone who could be your life-partner, something I wasn’t sure if I could be.” Taehyung pauses, twisting his lips before looking down at his hands.
“But then I heard you talking and I realised that there might be a possibility. A small one maybe, but I knew I had to at last try. Something I want you to know though is that everything I’m about to tell you that I’ve done has been done for myself because I finally realised that I have to move forward with my life. So, firstly, I talked to my doctor and I’ve started some medication that helps to inhibit my instincts when it comes to relationships and sex.” Pausing, he eyes you to gauge how you’re taking the news.
The head tilt you give is very birdlike, causing him to chuckle without even meaning to. He can’t help it though, not when you look so sweet right then with your bright hair and big eyes.
“I don’t have the urge to have sex with lots of women or make my herd anymore. We talked about it extensively and decided this would be my best course of action to allow me to have a healthy, monogamous relationship. Because of that, I’ve also quit my job and taken up the offer Jimin’s been giving me for years now.”
Despite the fact he’s mid-confession to you, the excitement in his stomach at that very moment is more to do with the fact he was going to finally have his dream career. That he was going to be doing a job which he’d been wanting to accept for years.
Understandably, his words cause you to suddenly gasp in delight before you’re clapping your hands eagerly. The excitement and happiness are purely for him finally taking proper control of his life, ridding himself of the pornography career that he’d enjoyed but hadn’t loved. Something you’d known for a while now.
“Oh my god? You’re going to work with Jimin?! You took the job! TaeTae, I’m so happy for you!” Even though he’d just admitted to you that he was near enough in love with you, your emotions were purely focused on the fact he’d taken the job. Feeling your approval and genuine joy at his life change, he can’t help but give you a wide, boxy grin even while the apples of his cheeks turn a soft rose.
“Thanks, I think Jimin was more excited than anyone to be honest. Pretty sure he’s already organising a design space for me in his building alongside an office. Makes me feel kind of bad for waiting so long to take him up on it but I feel like I’m finally at a place in my life that I’m truly ready for that career change.” That seems to remind you of what he’d told you earlier, about his medication.
Your elated expression slowly fades and he watches in trepidation as your brow creased, the mood dimming. Were you unhappy with his choice? Taking a deep breath, he holds it for a moment before letting it out slowly.
“I want you to know that there is no pressure on you. For anything. I’m going to continue taking this medication because I want to focus on my new career without having to worry about any urges taking over. The side benefit to it means that...well,” He pauses for a moment. “I can have a proper relationship. Or at least, the kind of relationship that you’d want. If you want that. With me.”
There’s complete silence in the room and Taehyung feels the sudden urge to grab another slice of pizza and start eating. Just for something to do with his hands and to distract himself.
He doesn’t push though, just lets you process what he’s told you. It was a lot, so he wasn’t even particularly expecting an answer tonight. If he were being honest, then he wouldn’t be surprised if you took yourself off to your room for the night. Or even went to one of your friends to talk it over with them.
But as usual, you surprise him. You may be small and dainty compared to him, light as a feather and full of cheer, but your personality has always been big and bold. Which is why you tackle the topic head-on.
“I didn’t mean for you to hear, you know that right?” Is your first question and Taehyung nods quickly, reaching out to encompass your much smaller hand with his own. There’s nothing too familiar about the gesture, just a squeeze of reassurance to let you know he understands and isn’t mad or anything.
“I know. It was entirely my fault. I should’ve carried on as soon as I heard that you were talking but I just heard my name and...well.” He trails off, giving an awkward smile that causes you to smile in return. The gentle pressure on his hand makes him realise that you’re now trying to assuage his fears that you were annoyed.
“Hey, it’s okay. You may not have too many physical features of your animal side but you’ve got plenty of their abilities. We both know that you can’t control the fact that you can hear much better, so I don’t blame you. Nor do I blame you for stopping to listen. Especially when you realised what I was talking about,” Now it’s your turn to look abashed, gaze skittering away from his and down to your still joined hands. “I’d have done the same thing if I heard you talking about me.”
Swallowing, Taehyung wonders how he’s meant to respond to that. He didn’t know what he’d say anyway as his stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies suddenly. Really big, horrible butterflies that are making him feel nauseous. 
“So yeah, I’m not angry or annoyed over that. Please don’t worry too much. If anything...I’m kind of glad. Because it means you’ve confronted this head-on and now we both know how we feel about each other. Which is that we like each other. A lot. In case it wasn’t clear, I like you too. Really like you. But I also thought it wouldn’t work because I know what I want and need from my partner in my life and I knew that your instincts clashed with that. Again, not your fault. You can’t deny nature and I tried to make sure that you never felt like I was.” There’s a hint of something in your voice but Taehyung can’t figure it out.
Pain? Embarrassment? Worry?
Whatever it is, he doesn’t get a chance to query it because you forge on. The sweet lovebird he’d known for years seems to be wavering between shyness at talking about your feelings and determination to have everything laid out.
He can understand the feeling.
“You know, I’ve fantasised about this for years, but now that it’s happening-”
“You don’t know how to communicate what you’re feeling and it’s all way more awkward and not nearly as romantic or sexy as you’d imagined?” Taehyung finishes for you, biting his lip as he grins broadly. You snort in amusement before nodding, playing with his fingers for a minute or so as you try to rationalise it all in your head.
“Did you go on whatever that medication is...for me? Like...because you wanted a relationship? With me? I know you’ve said it’s also because you wanted a career doing something you’ve always wanted but…” Trailing off, you can’t seem to look him in the eyes.
Carefully, he uses his free hand to lift your chin until he can see you. There’s a brief moment where you try to avoid his gaze before you give in, staring back just as deeply. Nerves, fear and hope are warring within him and he imagines that he can see it reflected in your own eyes.
“I’m not going to say no because overhearing your conversation was what spurred me to talk to my doctor. Finding out that you liked me back and that I might have a chance with you made me want to try to make sure you get the best of me. I knew that there are horse hybrids out there who have monogamous relationships and who are happy, but I didn’t think that would be a possibility for me. And given what I was doing for my career, I thought it was just better to carry on as I was,
“But then when I was talking to him about it all, I realised that it would help me in other aspects of my life too. Yes, I could finally offer you the kind of relationship that you want and that I want to have with you, but it would also let me leave behind the porn and start focusing on what I want to do. You know that I’ve never really been one of those stallions who wants a herd and the porn helped me to get rid of those urges without giving in to them properly. I looked into it for you, but I took it for me.” Licking his lips, Taehyung realises that he feels lighter.
Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he realises it’s because of what he’d told you. He’d been convinced that he was doing this to have a chance with you in the way he’d always dreamed of, but it was startling to realise that it was having such a positive effect in the rest of his life. For once, he was no slave to his instincts and had full control over himself, his emotions and his desires.
Just the thought of never having to do another film filled him with joy and happiness.
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to have changed yourself for me. But given that you have...what does it mean? Tell me.” Those pretty eyes, so big and wide, watch him intently and he gives a small half-smile as he shrugs with one shoulder.
“I mean...it’s basically like an inhibitor I guess? Reduces the amount of testosterone I produce, makes me less reactive to the scent of mares in heat and all that. There’s a whole bunch of medical stuff that I don’t understand but I just know what the doctor told me. It’s safe, it’s been tested many times before, and if things don’t work out, then I can come off them and be back to my old self. It just means that I won’t have the desire to have a herd or to...well sleep with multiple women, you know? Let’s be monogamous, a one-woman man. Finally.” Chuckling to himself, he runs his fingers through his pale hair so it’s out of his eyes.
“So...we could be together? Like...in a relationship? Just me and you?” 
“Yeah. The doctor said that as long as I’m on the medication then I’ll be like any other human or hybrid who doesn’t have a poly instinct. Not that there’s anything wrong with that obviously, but it means we can be together. In the future, if you want to be in a relationship or something...then if we decide to have kids or to not have them, I can get gelded and that’ll get rid of the instincts permanently.” Now your eyes widen in horror, hand covering your mouth as you gasp loudly.
“Gelded? They’d castrate you?” There’s a glance down from his face to his groin from you and he can’t help but laugh at the thought. Even if it does make him want to cup his balls protectively.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay! It’s okay! It’s just a vasectomy. Because I’m a stallion, it’s called being gelded. After that, I’d be officially known as a gelding. No longer able to have babies and with no real instinct to make my herd anymore.” Thankfully you look relieved at that and he wants to tease you about being so worried about his testicles. But instead, he just feels happy that you don’t tease him in turn about talking about potential babies already.
That’s a good sign.
“Okay. Okay...so, let’s think about this logically. I mean, is that being too cold? You admit that you like me back and you’re on medication to allow us to be in a relationship and I’m saying we need to think logically?” Taehyung pauses you with a finger to your lips, a smile on his own before he carefully wraps his arms around your shoulders.
He makes sure to give you plenty of time to make sure that you can pull away if you want to if you’re not comfortable with this, but you don’t. Instead, you almost seem to relax into him and link your arms around his waist. You can probably feel his heart beating through his chest, the muscle working extra hard while he feels a little breathless.
It’s not the first time he’s held you, but it feels different this time. There’s something more intimate about it and he can’t help but take a deep breath in, enjoying your scent.
“It’s fine. I’m kind of glad because I’ve made a complete mess of explaining myself here. So at least one of us can think more logically about it.”
“You didn’t do a terrible job. I mean...I’m certainly not going to vote for you or anything but it wasn’t bad. My question to you then...are we dating now?” And just like that, Taehyung’s breath is taken away. To the point, he almost chokes on his spit and ends up having a coughing fit.
Directly into your face, ruining any hint of romance.
Yep, he’d truly fucked this confession up. Taehyung was just lucky that you’d known him for so long that it just made your nose wrinkle as you wiped at your face with your shirt, grumbling lightly before pushing his shoulder.
“Gross.”
“Sorry! I wasn’t expecting that though! I mean, you just straight up asked. I was expecting like...more talking and exchanging feelings. More awkwardness.” Leaning away from him, you give him a very droll stare that makes him wince. Well, at least it was awkward now.
“Sorry for not living up to those weird expectations I guess? I just figure that we’ve spent long enough dancing around each other, right? I don’t want to waste any more time or have any more miscommunication so if it’s too abrupt for you then I’m still not sorry. I like you, Kim Taehyung. And given what you’ve told me, and what you’ve done for me, I want to finally have that relationship I’ve been wanting for so many years.” The authoritative tone in your voice is more attractive than he’d expected, causing his brow to rise. 
Feisty.
“Okay. Yes. Yes, we’re dating. Together. We’re together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. I need to shut up.” Clamming up, he forces his mouth to shut and for his muscles to remain still. In reality, he wants to jump for joy and scream out that this was happening. Even if part of him is embarrassed that he’s incapable of talking now.
It’s all worth it though when you give him a huge smile, so big and bright and full of happiness.
“You’re cute, you know that?” Now he’s blushing; cheeks high and a delightful rose as he tries to contain his smile. He’s supposed to be cool, the epitome of an educated man who is extremely experienced around women. And yet here he is, acting like a teenager getting his first girlfriend.
“Not what I normally get called.” You’re the one who looks a little shy at that, your eyes darting away from his as you bite at your lip. There’s a hint of nerves to you now and something else, something he can’t quite figure out. The way you wiggle slightly in place has him frowning in confusion, wondering what’s made you suddenly so quiet. This was the behaviour he’d been expecting from you, so it felt a relief to finally get it but also strange given how confident you’d been.
“What’s wrong? Where’s my bold girlfriend gone?” Gently poking your waist, he tries to ignore the thrill that rises inside him when he calls you that. It was going to take some time to get used to it.
Thankfully, it also manages to breakthrough whatever shell you’d suddenly formed around yourself. Grasping his hand with your own, you let out a soft whine as he continues to prod at you and he quickly intertwines his fingers with your own. For a moment, he’s too busy staring down at your hand in amused awe to remember what he’d asked you.
“Your hand is tiny, you know that?”
“No, you just have huge hands. All of you is huge, just like all of me is small. The difference between a horse and a lovebird.” Now it’s your turn to push at his stomach, a small smile on your face. Taehyung grins at that, but he grins, even more, when he catches your eyes flicking down to his lap.
It all clicked into place in his head, from the way you got shy at him saying he’s not normally called cute to the way you call him huge. You’re not wrong; Taehyung is massive when compared to you. Denser bones add to it at all, allowing him to lift and move heavy weights with ease whereas you’d developed a lighter bone structure that was more reminiscent of birds.
Taehyung had never broken a bone before, whereas you had to be careful doing certain things. But the size difference between you both was made even more obvious when he thought about sex. He was bigger than most human and hybrid males down below, and he wondered if there was something wrong with him that the knowledge you knew that turned him on.
Not that you’d ever seen him naked or anything, but you weren’t stupid. He was infamous in the porn industry for a reason.
Which suddenly made him consider something, his head tilting slightly as he narrowed his eyes at you.
“Have you ever watched my stuff? Like my films or anything? I know for a fact that some of them are on those free porn sites.” Biting his lip, he watches closely for any positive sign. One of the benefits of being a horse hybrid was that he was highly attuned to microexpressions in others.
Originally meant to watch out for danger and keep himself safe, it was more useful for getting an idea of where a conversation was going. It also made Taehyung feel very stupid that he’d never noticed you were in love with him before.
He doesn’t need to have any extra abilities to read your face right now though, not with how you look almost like you wish the floor would swallow you whole. You can’t even meet his eyes and it delights him.
“You have!” 
“No! I wouldn’t do that, you’re my best friend. That’d be weird.” Taehyung can sense the distress in your voice and he forces himself to tone down. He had no issues with the idea of you watching his stuff; if anything it was a turn on. But this relationship was so new that it had barely been born and he didn’t want to push your boundaries just yet. 
Still, he felt like he had a right to know.
“Hey, listen to me, it wouldn’t bother me if you did. I actually would find it a turn on to know you’ve watched me. I hope you weren’t upset though, I only did all of that to satisfy my instincts so that I could enjoy my time with you. But I made those films and videos for people to enjoy. If you got off to some of them that I’d consider it a job well done. Don’t feel embarrassed if you did.” Using his free hand, he lets his fingers trail along your cheek. It’s warm beneath his touch, the blood rushing in response to your tumultuous emotions and he reassuringly runs his thumb across it.
“You’re...you’re not bothered by the idea of that?” 
Taehyung chuckles at your disbelief and shrugs genially, making sure to portray an aura of calm and serenity. The only thing that bothered him about the idea of you watching his videos was that he was already sporting a semi at the very thought of his supposed ‘innocent’ best friend watching him railing some mare.
Which should be a terrible thought, but it just meant that he was all the more experienced for you. There would be no doubt in his mind that he could show you a world of pleasure that you’d never even imagined; as pompous and egotistic as that sounded.
Sex was his area of expertise though.
“I mean...I knew it was a risk when I started. I make porn. Porn is available freely on the internet and I fully expected some of my friends to be at least a little curious. Plus, there’s the whole ‘horse hybrid’ thing going on. I don’t tend to get embarrassed easily around sex. If anything, it’s kinda exciting knowing that you’ve seen some.” You’re giving him a look of pure confusion and he can’t help but laugh heartily. 
Oh, he loves you. He loves how befuddled you are at his refusal to adhere to your expectations. Given how reserved you were normally about sex and relationships, it was delightful to shatter your illusions surrounding him and make your perusal of his work sound like a benefit rather than something to be ashamed of.
“So...what did you think? You’ve never given me a rating before, so I’m curious.” Once more, your eyes dart away from his and he has to stifle a snort at how you suddenly find the wall so interesting. The artwork on there was nice, he’d picked it out himself, but it wasn’t that nice.
He doesn’t push though. What he wants is for this relationship to start on trust and honesty. So if you want to trust him enough to be honest about your opinion then he’d accept that. If it was still too early for you; he’d accept that too.
“It was good. I mean, I haven’t watched much. It was years ago and only a few minutes before I felt weird. Like I was spying on you. That’s it though! I swear I haven’t seen anything else. It felt like I was...perving on you or something.” Grasping at his hands desperately, you give him such big eyes that try to get across your honesty.
It makes his lips quirk in amusement and he links your fingers together once more, squeezing lightly. For a few moments, he considers how to respond to you before deciding to just go for it. Which means he slowly leans forward to you, eyes flicking down to your lips and giving you plenty of chances to pull away and leave.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a little bit of a relief, knowing you’ve seen at least something. But most importantly...can I kiss you?” Taehyung swears you deflate, your entire body seeming to relax with a deep breath you let out.
He’d be worried if it wasn’t for the huge grin that you have painted on your face now, the delight making your skin almost glow with health and happiness. It’s a beautiful look and he feels like he’s enraptured once more, falling in love with you all over again. At least now he has an outlet for these mushy feelings.
“Finally!” 
There’s only time for Taehyung’s eyes to widen in shock before you’re shaking your hands free of his own and grasping at his shirt. With a surprising amount of strength, you jerk him forwards and his lips crash against your own. That’s the only way to describe it, as it kinda hurts. His lips mashed against his teeth a little and his nose bumps against yours, causing him to whine.
You let him go almost immediately, looking intensely embarrassed as you rub at your mouth and nose. He does the same, making sure that there’s nothing wrong with his beloved nose while licking at his lips to soothe the dull ache. But then he can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and rumbling up from his chest as he contemplates what just happened.
Every time that he thought you would zig, you instead zagged. Over the years, he’d learnt to go with the flow with you in regards to this with his friendship but for some reason, he’d never quite realised that it would be much the same with a romantic relationship. You defied his expectations and made him feel like he was constantly on his toes.
He loved it, including when almost headbutted him with your first kiss.
“I am so sorry-” You start, your eyes wide and worry emanating from you. He shakes his head, trying to stifle his amusement before reaching out and cupping your face with a gentle touch.
“Okay, how about we try this again but...a little slower this time, yeah?” Keeping your face steady, he inches forward until he can feel your warm breath on his cheek. You’ve already closed your eyes in anticipation and he has to squash the desire to grin, instead fulfilling both of your wishes by pressing his lips against your own.
It’s a soft and gentle kiss at first, exploratory and uncertain. Neither of you knows how to kiss the other properly, or what the other likes, and so you both simply...take your time. Taehyung’s thumb strokes along with the softness of your cheek while your hands flatten against his chest, palms hot where they rest.
He’s kissed a lot of women in his life; some he’s proud of, some he’s not and some he doesn’t even care about. But this is the best kiss so far. Even as slow and unsure as it is, it’s still the best.
Because it’s you.
There’s more than a hint of inexperience in your kiss and it doesn’t surprise him. He knows that you’ve at least kissed a few people before, but you didn’t have a huge amount of experience in it. Instead, it’s just enough that he feels comfortable but not enough to have you take the lead.
So he does, instead. And given how bold you’d been earlier, he takes the initiative to be bold this time as well. 
With almost minimal strength required on his behalf, he slips his hands down to your hips and grips them tightly, lifting and depositing you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He doesn’t even make a noise as he does so, your weight nothing to him.
His ancestors had been bred for heavy lifting and pulling, after all.
What he doesn’t anticipate though, is the way you moan into his mouth or how you wiggle slightly at his action. Pulling from you, one brow lifts as he looks you over inquisitively. His question is silent, but you understand it immediately. There’s nowhere for you to look now, not when you’re so close to him.
So you stare at his chin instead, carefully avoiding his eyes as your hands move to play with his soft hair. The blonde strands are almost golden instead of platinum in the soft light of the nearby lamp, just visible in his vision from where you stroke them.
“I forget how strong you are sometimes.” The words are muttered and he gets the impression that you’re hoping he doesn’t hear. And that he won’t query it further. But he does, of course, he does.
“Do you have a strength kink, Chirp?” 
“Wha-no! That’s, why would I-” Spluttering, you lean back a little and take a moment to shuffle until you’re more comfortable on his lap. Your legs are on either side of his now, comfortable in their almost kneeling position but most of your weight is on his legs. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you closer, enjoying the warmth you give him.
“It’s cool if you do. I can fulfil that. Not yet though, if that’s okay. But I need you to know something right now. I don’t want us to have sex right now. Not yet. Since being a teenager, I’ve been obsessed with sex. An unfortunate side effect of being a stallion. For the first time in my adult life...I don’t feel an insatiable need for it. And it’s kinda nice. I don’t want us to start our relationship with sex. I want us to explore each other and our relationship first and then introduce sex. I need to learn that sex is something intimate and between only us now. I’ve spent too long viewing it as work.” He tries to make sure that his words are carefully said and that he’s not rushing them, but now he’s the one a little nervous.
You’d been far bolder than he’d ever expected and now he was worried that you might expect sex from him immediately. It was an easy, even acceptable, assumption to make given what he was and his career. But he didn’t want that. As he’d said, he wanted to start this relationship with love and trust.
Lust could come later.
There’s no answer from you for a moment and he sighs, letting his hands awkwardly stroke at your sides in an attempt to give them something to do.
“I’m sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Or not what you wanted. I’m a little surprised you’ve been so forward with me and-” A soft fingertip presses against his lips, causing him to quieten instantly.
Smiling softly, you lean forward and kiss him. It’s just as chaste as the one previously, only you’ve controlled yourself a little more compared to your first attempt. He takes solace in it though and now his body is the one deflating. There’s a silent acceptance in that kiss.
When you finally pull away from him, he finds himself chasing after you. It’s an odd sensation for him to do that without any intention of going further but he finds that he likes it. There’s no doubt that you can feel what’s going on in his pants; he can’t control everything after all but just because his body is saying yes doesn’t mean his mind is.
And you accept that. He can tell instantly, from the reassuring smile you give him and how you embrace him so warmly and carefully. 
“It’s okay, Tae. I’ll admit to being a little disappointed but I can understand your reasoning behind it. And I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to. I know you’d do the same for me. I guess it’s just going to make it better when we finally do get to it, right?” Teasing him, you stick your tongue out and poke at his cheek.
Almost immediately, his nose wrinkles and your laugh lightly. For a moment, the sounds are almost like chirping and he can see your lovebird origins so clearly. That was to say nothing of the fact that you were now subconsciously grooming his hair, fingertips running through the platinum strands and getting rid of any unfortunate kinks or knots.
“Thank you.” He whispers, letting his hands wrap around your waist until he’s hugging you. It takes minimal effort to have you plastered against him, head resting on his shoulder as he embraces you so tightly. You smell heavenly, and he wonders what he did to be given the chance to be with you after so many years.
“Can we go on a date though? I mean...like now?” Tilting his head back, he frowns before looking at the table and the pizza boxes.
“What? Where? We’ve already eaten?”
“Okay, but I’m kinda horny and you’re kinda horny and I think we both need to talk a walk and cool down. So...how about we have our first date? I’ve been waiting a while for this, Kim Taehyung.” Your smile is so big and bright, dazzling him and making his stomach flutter.
He doesn’t even realise he’s nodding until you practically launch yourself from his lap, rushing over to the door and chattering away. If he was being honest, he had no idea what you were talking about as you quickly pulled your shoes on and sorted out your bag.
Taehyung didn’t even care, because he’d done it. He had the girl he’d been in love with for years, who he’d been certain he had no chance with. You could regale him with a thousand and one tales and he’d listen to them all with a content smile because he was yours, and you were his.
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iwadori · 3 years
Note
Can you write a pure angst, using 10 and 35 please ( Idc about the characters ) :)
Getting hurt with the haikyu boys part 3 (Iwaizumi)
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Part one Part Two Part three
Word count: 2.8K
Genre: pure angst
Authors Note: I am sorry for just how shit it is lol. I had an idea and it kind of got worse as it went along but I hope you like it anyways.
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You were pregnant.  
You wanted to cry.  
You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant before you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.
Iwaizumi first approached you at your job, some shitty dinner that only paid you enough so you can make ends meet. You could tell he had money, the way he dressed, his demeanor even the way he talked. ‘What was a man like this doing here?’ you thought.  
Apparently, he’s seen you around for a while, your city was small you’d only really leave this place if you had a fair god mother or died and of course you are clearly alive and don’t have a fairy god mother...until you met him.
He ordered a coffee, didn’t drink it though (probably knowing that your boss spat it in whenever he was in a bad mood or because he just needed an excuse to be around) just waiting for you to finish your break. You sat in a corner booth for ‘privacy,’ not that anybody was even in the place.  
“My names Iwaizumi Hajime” he said keeping a blank facial expression  
“What do you wan-”
“Miss L/N, I think I’ll do the talking here. Okay?” he said with a smirk appearing on his face after seeing your slightly shocked face when he revealed knowing your last name.
“I’ve seen you around for a while now, you’re beautiful you know that right?” he said making your cheeks heat up a bit. “Anyways, I think you’re gorgeous and a man like me needs a pretty girl like you on his arms. By the lack of response to my name, I assume you don’t know who I am...but I guess that works in my favour”
Your face is getting bored by the second not really listening as he rambles on about himself, “I need you to be on my arm every night that I go out to one of my boring business meetings.”  
“Business meetings?” you ask  
“You know, a bunch of ‘business’ people go out and talk ‘business’ together.” he said sarcastically as if you were stupid.
“I know that, I just thought you’d elaborate about it.” You sighed “What do I get out of this?”
“Finally, you’ve gotten to the interesting part, you my dear get money and lots of It” he says finally catching your attention “I’ll pay you 1 million Yen per night, and all your dresses, outfits and expenses will be paid for so you won’t have to worry your pretty little head about finances again” he ‘smiled’ at you.
“What's the catch?” squinting your eyes  
“The catch is just that you have to accompany me to all my events.... and you have to stay in my condo.”
“Wh-”
“Don’t worry dear, it’s a nice place” interrupting you “probably better than any shithole you live in”
“Fine, fine” his words were convincing you “Is there a contract you have for me to sign?” you ask wanting to at least be somewhat ‘protected.’
“No contract, just this verbal agreement. Between me and you right here right now.” he winked “so you’re in agreement of our arrangement?”
“Yes.”
That was your first mistake believing Iwaizumi Hajime.
Sure you could defend yourself now and say ‘I was poor and in need of help’ but you’d know it would just be you in denial talking.  
The first time you attended a meeting with Iwaizumi, you came home from quitting your job since Iwaizumi said ‘you’re on my payroll now.’ You found a beautiful red dress laying on your bed accompanied with shoes and accessories and note saying, ‘I trust you to be able to do your own hair and make up my dear – I.H’
You didn’t have any family, or any friends. Most people that have had even a single encounter with you have deemed you to be ‘Not Likeable’ saying you’re not a people person or just lack any sociability. You were stuck in this town because of the debt your father has left you in before he supposedly ‘passed’ away. Leaving you drowning in all his financial woes, meaning you couldn’t go to university or become a professional *insert dream job here* like you wanted to be.
When you exited your building, you saw Iwaizumi leaning against a flashy car parked outside. “You chariot awaits m’lady” he says with a cheeky grin on his face making you roll your eyes. You got in the car and he started driving, humming along to a random song slightly agitating you.
“So, when are you moving to my place? It’s a part of the agreement.” he said in a sing song voice in the tune of what he was humming.  
Iwaizumi reminded you of JD from heathers, he was nice when he wanted but he did have a screw loose that was triggered when things didn’t go his way. Like a small child who didn’t get the toy he wanted when he had a million other toys.  
Him being the child. You being the toy.
“Our agreement is bullshit, just verbal.” you say mockingly “remember?”
“don’t start with me Y/N I'm not in a pleasant mood today” he says gritting his teeth “and I don’t need you fucking with me tonight.”
He puts his hand on your thigh, a little too harshly making you internally wince. “Okay here’s the rules for the night. You stay on my side for the night, only speak when spoken too, don’t drink too much since no one likes an alcoholic of course.”
“Oh, so all I need to do is sit pretty like a good little girl.” you say sarcastically
“Precisely” he lessens the grip on your thigh making you breathe in relief.  
The event was boring to say the least, you did as Iwaizumi said stood next to him with a fake smile plastered on your face all through the night. You’re sure that people did ask you questions, but you were in your own little world only stepping out of it when Iwaizumi either pinched your arm or gripped your thigh.
The end of the night was ‘eventful’ to say the least, before you entered the car a hand wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into a back alley. “We couldn’t end the night so boring, could we?” it was Iwaizumi, of course it was.
He started peppering your neck with kisses and roaming his hands all over your body. He eventually trailed the kisses from your neck to your lips, leading you both into a full blown make out session. It was fast and you couldn’t really think straight. Iwaizumi was getting a bit too forceful, gripping and kissing harder than he needed to, leaving marks as if to say ‘you’re mine now.’
That was your second mistake. Getting sexual with Iwaizumi Hajime.
He said you had to go back to his house which was basically now yours. You complied, obviously had no other choice since he didn’t offer or ask. He told you too.
Waking up in the Iwaizumi residence was an ‘experience.’ Iwaizumi wanted you awake when he was awake and asleep when he was, never giving you a moment too yourself. You swiftly came to the learn of the reason why he wanted you in his ‘care’ (as he called it anyways) he wanted his eyes on you all the time.
You carried on attending the events bored out of your mind and the nights went the same way. Fancy dress, long car ride, not paying attention, getting fucked in the back alley then sleep in Iwaizumi’s expensive silk sheets.
You didn’t know much about Iwaizumi besides what you could find. In the day time, Iwaizumi spends it cooped up in his office whilst giving you the ‘permission’ to roam around the house. Iwaizumi kept all his important stuff in a small box under a creepy floorboard in his basement original idea I know. All the information in there was just stuff about generic stuff about his childhood. Him being brought up into wealth, how much he weighed as a baby and all the allergies and boring shit that he had.
Iwaizumi Hajime was an enigma.
You and Iwaizumi did get along. Sometimes. You did do things that weren’t strictly fucking and going to business meetings. He took you on what you could only be able to describe as dates, and outings showing you off to all his actual friends. That’s when you learnt the difference of the ‘two’ men, Iwaizumi and Hajime.
Although they were the same person by name, Iwaizumi was rough around the edges and cold at heart not caring about you at all. Hajime, whilst still being rough around the edges, basically made you out to be his girlfriend giving you the love and care you needed. You really liked the times when you were with Hajime.
That was your third mistake, falling in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.
As things progressed, your quality of life seemed to dwindle (not that it was great in the first place.) Iwaizumi was barely in the house, claiming that for these particular ‘business meetings’ he didn’t need you.
On one night, a simple phone call definitely changed your whole dynamic.
“Yes babe, I’m coming over tomorrow I can’t wait to see you and the girls again.” he said to the other person on the phone.
“Why do you question my love for you, of course I love you.” he said again
“I love you, the girls even the dumb dog that Haru forced me to get for her 8th birthday I love. You guys are my family. My lovely wife and out girls”
Your stomach churned, you backed out of the hallway that you were in. He had a family, of course he had a family. You went into the guest room, where you kept all your things, you couldn’t do this anymore. Although you pretty much lost all your morals when you formed this whole agreement but you refuse to sleep with a married man with kids. You couldn’t. Being the reason why a family might break up is something you wouldn’t ever do.
Iwaizumi heard all your commotion and entered the guess “Woah darling who’s moving out?” he asked jokingly  
“Hmm probably your wife and kids, after they realise their husband is a CHEATER!” you spat
“Woah, woah Y/N” he said getting closer to you “You don’t know what the fuck you’re on about”
“I think I know pretty well; you’ve always been a pompous ass Iwaizumi; it was my bad for thinking that you weren’t married throughout all of this.” You finished packing up as much close as you possible can and headed out the room.
“You need to watch your mouth Y/N” he says aggressively  
“Or what Iwaizumi, or should I say Hajime” you shout “Or is that only reserved for your WIFE!”
This seem to really tick him off, “You don’t know anything Y/N, you really think I could love a dirty slut like you? Huh? Well, I didn’t know that you were important enough to be able to know the details of my personal life.”
“I'm not a slut” you mumbled. Which was completely true, Iwaizumi didn’t notice that the first time you slept together was the first time that you slept with anyone.
“repeat that again for me y/n?” he said mockingly
“IM NOT A SLUT!” you shout in his face
“You are what I say you are darling”
“Fuck you.” You try and push past him hard, to get out the house but you’re no match against his anger and brute strength. So, when he slams you against the wall, he banging your head. Leaving you concussed and bleeding. Before you completely pass out all you hear is a repetition of Iwaizumi Hajime murmuring “I'm sorry, I’m sorry” whilst wrapping his arms around your comatose body.
You woke up, thinking that was all a dream but the ache in the back of your head proved otherwise.  
“Y/N, darling your awake!” he said making you flinch
You moved away from him when he sat on your bed looking at you with ‘love’ and ‘care’ in his eyes. He goes to stroke your cheek whispering “you’re so be-”
“Fuck off” you say. That bang to the head was a wakeup call literally reminding you of all the hot and cold moments you had with Iwaizumi that you submerged into your head for the sole reason of ‘wanting to be happy.’ But you weren’t happy. Deep down you knew that.
“But y/n, darling I love you.” he said and you closed your eyes shut wanting to tune him out “I love you Y/N.”
“You don’t" you replied back harshly with your eyes still shut tightly
“But I do Y/N, I love you” he repeated the ‘I love you’s’ over and over making you want to scream out in frustation.
“Shut up!” you yelled “You don’t love me, stop saying that” your head throbbing with every word “Just stop. Make it stop! Kill me if you have to! Just make it stop” you say thumping at Iwaizumi’s chest becoming a hysterical crying mess. You weren’t talking about the physical paint he caused you (even though that hurt ALOT) you were talking about the constant heartache it was just being around him.
He didn’t know what to do. So, he just put his arms round you again and you yelled your frustrations about him to him into his chest.
You woke up into a new place, not your old one or Iwaizumis just something brand new.  
With a note on your bed side table saying:
‘I love you and I’m sorry’
Making you tear it up and toss it out.
You had no further contact with Iwaizumi, you figured that the new house you lived in was already paid for, but you didn’t want Iwaizumi to show up one day saying that you owed him money so you decided to get a job. A small one, that didn’t require any strenuous Labour or heavy shift times.
It was a few weeks after Iwaizumi left you and you felt sick and heartbroken. After finishing your shift at your job you felt hot headed and extremely ill making you run to your toilet to spill out your guts.
Which lead you to your predicament now.
Pregnant.
You were pregnant.  
You wanted to cry.  
You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant befonhre you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.
You didn’t know what to do. There was only thing you could do, but you certainly didn’t want that. ‘Call him’ the voice in your head urged. ‘That would be the best option right?’ you thought ‘I mean he did love you afterall...’
It took a whole day of pacing around and wondering on what you should do. But you knew that leaving the situation longer would only make it worse. So you kept his business card on you when he gave it to you since that was the only phone number you had. He was all you actually had.
You called and the phone rang 4 times, your heart beating faster and faster as it rang.
“He-”
“Hello this is Sakura Iwaizumi speaking” a feminine voice said “Who is calling?” you hear someone say in the background. ‘Iwaizumi’ you thought, your face smiling. You realised you haven’t responded so you rushed out  
“I’m Y/N L/N, I need to speak with Iwaizumi.”
“Haji dear, there's a girl on the phone for you... someone of the name called Y/N L/N”
You heard muffles in the background and Iwaizumi saying “Just hang up the phone she’s not worth it.” Your heart stung ‘She’s not worth it.’ Did he really mean that? As much as you claim to hate him, you didn’t really. As you’ve said before you always liked his loving and caring side over his cold hearted one.
You put the phone down and just cried, wailing your heart out for him. Why? You don’t really know to be honest. This was all a dumb agreement, he used you because he was bored and he probably already knew you were pregnant from when he gave you that concussion. But ‘he doesn’t want you’ you reminded yourself because ‘I’m not worth it.’
AUTHORS NOTE: once again, i’m sorry lol. But im most likely going to do a part two of my ‘long shot’ series with Akaashi or a character of your choosing. 
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captains-simp · 3 years
Text
Valkyrie ~ Queen's Stress Relief
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Valkyrie X fem!Reader Smut
Word Count: 2,752
Includes: established fwb (kinda) relationship, dom!Valkyrie, spanking, degrading, oral and strap on
[ masterlist ]
Buy me a coffee ☕
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Everyone knew that being the Queen of Asgard was no doubt a very stressful job.
On the good days it consisted of settling petty debates very few people cared about. On the bad days it including making hard decisions that could lead to some sleepless nights.
Valkyrie excelled at the role of Queen, just as everyone predicted. But despite this the stress of the job could sometimes get to her.
To her people she was a fearless leader who was firm but fair, never failing to do right by them. But you saw past the sterdy walls she had built. You knew she hated when there were things that were just out of her control. So you tried to help your Queen in anyway you could.
It was an arrangement. That was what you had offered. When things became tough and she needed something to take her mind off of her responsibilities, you would be there.
Granted, it was mainly just sex. A way for Valkyrie to regain some form of control and have something to provide her with a kind of stress relief. Something to give her full, undivided attention to. Moments in which it felt as though you too were the only ones that existed in the world.
But as you spent longer around your Queen you found yourself helping her in other ways. She never kicked you out after sex, so you prepared meals for her when you knew she wasn't eating. You put things away when her house was becoming cluttered. You ran small errands for her so she had time for more important things. You did everything you could.
All she had to do was send a quick text. Your job at the town pub hardly took up much of your time and allowed for you to be at Valkyrie's beck and call, not that your arrangement was all that regular. She rarely had the time and a quickie wouldn't cut it.
You never asked questions about what was on her mind. That wasn't what you had offered and you knew she would have denied the arrangement if that was what you had pitched. She appreciated that you understood that. But that didn't stop you from subtly dropping that you were a great listener every now and then. She always smiled at that.
It was late on a Friday night. You had just finished covering a shift for a friend at the bar and decided to walk the long way home on that particularly quiet night, catching a glimpse of the sun setting over the calm sea.
There were a lot of bonuses to living in an asgardian village, one of which was never having to worry about not being safe in the town. You could stroll through it at midnight without a single concern, never once considering who or what was lurking in the shadows. So it was baffling to hear that the rest of Earth wasn't the same way and that people didn't feel safe walking alone so late.
Your phone buzzed from your jacket pocket so you went to look at it without hesitation. You smiled as you saw it was a message from Valkyrie.
It's been a while, want to come over? It read. You agreed instantly and altered your course to head towards Valkyrie's house in the middle of town.
It had been a while. You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss it. Miss her.
You arrived at the Queen's house in no time, probably aided by the fact you had half skipped most of the way, and tapped at the door three times.
Valkyrie answered in less than 10 seconds and looked as beautiful as ever.
She wore her lazy day outfit that you thought always made her look so warm and inviting, like you would be able to stay in her embrace for hours on end. You knew you shouldn't think like that. Shouldn't make up scenarios, no matter how short, about your Queen. But scolding yourself never stopped the thoughts.
"Hey." Valkyrie greeted with a small smile.
"Hey." You smiled brightly, looking more excited than you had planned to let show. Valkyrie didn't notice though, and if she did she didn't say it.
You glanced up at her mesmerizing brown eyes to see her looking at you with that 'I know you're not paying attention' look that always made you weak at the knees.
"I'm sorry." You muttered, realizing she had told you to come in.
"Long night?" She enquired, it was the only sort of small talk that would happen.
You hummed in response as she placing her hand on your lower back over your jacket and pushed you lightly in the direction of her room.
Despite knowing the layout of her house as well as your own, you let Valkyrie guide you through her home silently, too focused on the light touch of her hand on your back to think of anything to say and barely taking in your surroundings. It wasn't an awkward silence, but one filled with tension.
You were vaguely aware of going through the living room and arriving at the foot of the stairs. Her hand left your back and your body yearned for it to come back.
Instead, she called over her shoulder as she continued towards the kitchen counter. "Upstairs." Was all she said. 
You took the stairs two, sometimes three, at a time and almost leapt in Valkyirie's room.
Nothing had changed since you had last been there. Different clothes were scattered across the floor and you spied a couple of empty beer bottles next to the bin, but over all she was doing well. Her King sized bed looked as inviting as ever and you were quick to scramble onto it and place your jacket on the chair near the bed.
You smiled to yourself as you undid the button and zip of your jeans and lowered them slightly. Valkyrie's steps were heard on the stairs so you leant back on your hands and tried to paste an unreadable expression on your face.
She strolled back over to you, her eyes never leaving your own, as she came to kneel on the bed and parted your legs, crawling slightly to meet you all while you held your breath.
Her hand trailed up your jean clad legs and came to rest on the zipper that you had undone yourself. Valkyrie hummed as her fingers slipped between the zips to brush against the thin fabric of your panties.
"Someone's impatient." Valkyrie stated more to herself than you. She gripped your hips suddenly and flipped your whole body onto your front as though she was turning over a piece of paper.
Just as you pictured how her muscles might have strained a little under her jumper you were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt a harsh smack against your ass. You moaned slightly as you jolted forward, not expecting the motion but definetly being aroused by it.
"I haven't even taken your jeans off yet." Valkyrie chuckled as she pressed herself against your back and breathed lightly on your neck. You arched your neck slightly in an automatic response to her close proximity and felt her hands snake around your stomach.
Her hand caressed the bare skin of your stomach, relishing in the way your slight stomach muscles tightened at her touch. They then wandering down to the hem of your jeans again.
"I bet you'll look so weak below me when there's nothing between us." She husked as she bit your earlobe and unzipped your jeans.
That was something Valkyrie always liked to do. Act like she didn't know exactly how these nights would play out. Like she hadn't memorised every inch of you. Like she didn't know the ways she could pleasure you and how much she enjoyed doing so.
You couldn't form a response to her words and only tilted your neck more for her in a hopeful attempt to have her attention there. You were glad to feel the sensitive skin being met with her warm, soft lips.
As she kissed and sucked on patches of skin along your, neck her fingers slipped into your jeans and didn't hesitate to rub your lower lips over your soaking panties.
"Such a needy slut, desperate for my touch." You moaned quietly in response and closed your eyes to the feeling if your wetness spreading.
Valkyrie was holding you down by the space between your shoulder blades while her fingers altered to massaging slow circles against your clit.
You bit back a moan at the sensation, almost wanting to speak up and ask her to remove the barrier. Valkyrie always wanted to do things at her pace, which could drastically vary from one time you see her to the next.
She pulled down your jeans and tossed them across the room before lifting your ass up into the air and taking your ruined panties off too.
You turned around to catch a glimpse of her but was met with one of her warning glares that sent shivers down your spine that never failed to rest between your legs.
"Look forward." Valkyrie ordered as she rubbed the smooth skin beneath your panties. "And count." She finished.
Just as you registered what she was saying you felt a sting across your ass and a loud smacking sound echoing throughout the room.
"One!" You moaned out and pressed your head against the sheets. Valkyrie didn't give any kind of recognition before bringing her hand down harshly across your ass again. You whimpered slightly as you managed to speak again.
"Two." More of a whisper this time. It wasn't common for Valkyrie to spank you, in fact it was rare. It meant something hadn't gone her way
"God you're such a slut for pain." She spat with a smirk. "You're going to be a mess in no time." The degrading backed up your theory. Not that you were complaining, just a little worried. You would try your luck with talking to her later.
She spanked you again, just as hard as the previous two but hurting more due to your fragile skin. As much as you loved what she was doing, it hadn't happened in a long time so your tollerence to it was nowhere near what it once was. You couldn't help but be filled with excitement at the thought, having craves that kind of pain for a while.
"Three!" You moaned into the sheets.
Valkyrie continued this unrelenting for 20 hits before rubbing your ass soothingly and soaking up the view of you exposed glistening folds.
"Such a predictable whore." Valkyrie said coldly. You blushed deeply at her words, your core squeezing around nothing in response. Of course, with your luck, she noticed.
"Oh? You like it when I treat you like the pathetic little slut you are?" You moaned out into the sheets from arousal, but this wasn't what she wanted. "Answer me." She demanded and pulled your hair back roughly to force you to look at her.
"Yes...! I love it." You admitted and felt yourself gush with wetness at the feeling of her fingers trailing lightly over your folds.
She flipped you back onto your back and aching ass before kneeling down infront of you, maintaining eye contact as she licked a strip through your folds.
You moaned and arched my back the moment her tongue made contact, feeling the older woman smirk against you and hum softly.
She wrapped her full lips around your clit and sucked eagerly. You continued to moan breathlessly at the action and felt a knock immediately grow in your abdomen the longer she sucked the sensitive bud. She dipped her tongue into your folds to taste your juices and moaned against you. The vibrations made you shudder in the most unsubtle way possible.
Her tongue sunk further into your weeping channel and you found yourself gripping the sheets beneath you even tighter, your knuckles soon turning white with every passing moment of having Valkyrie's tongue inside you.
"Mistress! I'm gonna-"
"Not yet." Valkyrie said clearly as she leaned back. You should have been glad at that, knowing you would have been embarrassed if she had made you cum so quickly.
And yet, you were still about to whine in displeasure until I saw her throw her sweatpants across the room to join your own discarded clothes. She stared into your eyes as she did so and revealed to you the strap she had been packing.
The sight of the strap firmly attached to the harness that clung to your Queen's curves made you want her all the more.
Valkyrie returned to the bed where she swiftly straddled your sides before taking your top off. She reached back to unhooking your bra and didn't suppress the pleased smile on her lips. 
She leaned down to kiss the areas around your nipples and occasionally nipped and sucked on small patches of skin. I moaned lightly at her actions and closed your eyes with a smile. You wanted to grip her hair to push her to actually giving your nipples attention and eventually further down, but you didn't dare.
You sensed the older woman's hips shift on you and brush her strap against your throbbing clit. You whined lowly at the teasing feeling across your body.
She finally captured one of your nipples in her mouth and swirled her tongue over it. You gasped out at the sensation, even more so when she pinched the other nipple between her thumb and forefinger.
The older woman kissed up your neck again as the strap parted your folds for her. Valkyrie pushed onwards and very soon the tip of the strap sunk itself into your wet channel.
You moaned at the feeling of Valkyrie filling you up quickly and without hesitation. You clenched around the invader as she pushed onwards and stretched you to accommodate the girthy strap.
"Your cunt takes my strap so well, baby." Valkyrie moaned above you as her hands moved to either side of your head, her face inches from your own and locking you in an unbreakable gaze.
Once she bottomed out with an unexpected force she stilled for a short.moment before retracting her hips and snapping them back in place.
You could even hear the noise of your wet pussy everyone the strap returned to you between the heavy breathing and moaning you couldn't contain.
Being so close to your Queen after all that time made the heat between your legs grow and you knew Valkyrie could pick up on how much you gushed with wetness.
"Oh fuck." You moaned below her as her hips picked up speed. You gripped onto Valkyrie's back like a lifeline and prayed she wouldn't protest. Instead, she took the motion with a new vigour in her ruthless thrusting.
"Mistress!" You moaned louder as you dug your nails into her smooth skin.
"Please...don't stop!" You begged, too engrossed in the pleasure to care how desperate you sounded.
She complied without a word, her hips guiding the strap to mercilessly thrust into you at an overwhelming pace that was nothing short of pure bliss.
"I'm gonna cum." You moaned out, her pace unrelenting and hitting the back of your pussy without fail every time.
"Cum." Was all she said as you came hard on her fake cock, staring into each other's eyes and seeing the immense amount of pleasure you were receiving from your Queen.
She watched as though in a trance as you rode out your hide, clenching desleretlt around the strap as her pace finally slowed and she pulled away, leaving you feeling empty.
Valkyrie handed you a glass of water as she fell down beside you and waited for you to finish. You had expected her to get up and shower like she usually did, but instead Valkyrie wrapped one of her strong arms around your waist, closing her own eyes as she held you close to her. You smiled at the extremly rare gesture.
Sure, the arrangement had started out as just sex. But you had eventually learnt that these affectionate gestures helped your Queen settle her nerves too. It had taken her a long time to display this and it was always very limited. You loved every second of it.
Always willing to provide whatever Valkyire needed and secretly hoped that one day it could grow to become more.
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cowboycakes · 3 years
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Hi! ur writing is incredible and i saw that requests were open and i just had to go for it. could you possible write a ReinerxFem! reader where she’s really seriously injured and tries to hide it from everyone, until she passes out in Reiner’s arms (cliche i’m sorry) and he’s just SO mad at himself for not noticing before and he’s so worried and he cares for the reader so much while she’s unconscious and after she wakes up? Just like so much fluff and angst and Reiner being a guilty fucker as he is but also like extremely protective and caring? Sorry it’s so specific. Thank you!🥺❤️
Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece!
Tender Loving Care 
Pairing: Reiner Braun x fem!Reader
Themes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, Reiner’s guilty ass 
Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, severe injury/blood and bleeding/recovery, fainting, hospital setting, profanity
Word Count: 1.5k
You stumble into the medical tent, plopping your sweaty body down on a cot. Dirt covered hands rummage through a med kit until they come across a bundle of white bandages. You form them tightly around your thigh, applying pressure that you hoped would stop the bleeding. You’d really messed up on the mission today, completely misfiring your ODM gear when the first titan came into view. Your legs hit a tree branch, hard. Nerves would often get the best of you like that.
And now you’re left with the consequence - a giant gash. The sight of it made you feel faint. Blood wouldn’t cease to seep through the mesh material surrounding your wound, even after rewrapping it a few times.
You pack some extra gauze into it before trying to stand up and go to find the rest of the group. Before you take your first step, the tent door flies open. 
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What’s wrong?” Reiner shouts, rushing over to your side. 
You secretly relished in the feeling of him worrying for you sometimes. 
This whole dynamic between the two of you began from a chance pairing in some training exercises. Reiner had played the cocky tough guy at first, trying to show off and take over every exercise the two of you were supposed to do together. This irritated you to no end, obviously. Your solution was to get under his skin: make him laugh, tease him and poke at him until that hard headed exterior of his cracked. With time, it eventually did, revealing a big softie who cared for you more than he’d like to admit. 
“Just me folding under pressure. The usual,” you sigh, taping your bandages down, “it’s just a scratch.”
“Don’t lie, let me see it,” he says gently, crouching down in front of you to inspect your injury. 
“No!” you laugh as you press a hand onto your bandage, “I’m perfectly fine! We need to get going, anyway.”
Reiner looks up to you, unimpressed. He could always see right through your fibs. You smile guiltily at him as he stands up. 
“I’m not convinced that’s just a scratch,” Reiner mumbles.
“Sure it is! Just watch,” you declare as you walk toward the exit. 
You couldn’t hide your limp. 
“Nope. Absolutely not,” Reiner interrupts. He stands in front of you and motions for you to get on his back. You sigh, but reluctantly climb on anyway. 
You loop your arms around his neck as he moves his hands to support your thighs, being extra careful around your injury. 
The pain wasn’t getting any duller, even though you weren’t trying to walk now. You lay your cheek down on Reiner’s shoulder as his big strides carried you toward the horse and cart that was set to take everyone back to headquarters. Your body goes limp on the short journey, feet dangling and heavy eyes closing. 
Reiner gently sets you down beside him whenever you two reach your ride. He instinctively puts a big arm around your sore shoulders, pulling your body in close to his warm chest. 
“That better just be a scratch, or you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Reiner teases, squeezing your arm. 
You huff in response, closing your eyes again. 
The rest of the group eventually arrives at the cart - most of them as sweaty and beat up as you were. However, you were feeling weaker by the minute. 
“Woah, y/n, you ok? You look pale...” you hear Annie question as she boards the cart.
You look down to your leg, quick to cover it with your hands before Reiner could see. Blood had made its way through your bandaging again.
“Yeah, I’m just fine,” you laugh nervously, “thanks Annie.”
You weren’t fine. You were becoming increasingly lightheaded - feeling yourself break into a cold sweat as your breathing becomes shallow.
The cart eventually starts to move, its wooden wheels creaking as it makes its way over the bumpy path home. You try to focus on the scenery moving around you, but your vision is too blurred. 
The state of your body was now making you nervous. You decide to close your eyes and lean your head against Reiner’s chest, gripping a sweaty hand on the back of his shirt, trying to ground yourself.  He rubs his hand up and down your arm slowly in response, calming you down a bit.
“We’re almost home. I’ll get you feeling better once we’re there, ok?” Reiner says.
“Ok…” you smile, beginning to feel yourself fade in and out a bit.
The cart finally comes to a halt. Reiner stands up before you and helps your woozy legs to straighten with the support of his hand in yours. He steps off the wooden cart first, opening his arms up so he could pick you up again. 
“Reiner, I’m okay,” you say, letting go of his hand, “promise.”
You look down at the dusty ground from your position on the cart, now standing completely unassisted.
Ok, just a small step, right? Three feet at most. Just move your foot forward, out into the abyss below the cart. 
Suddenly, your vision is a mere tunnel, blackness encroaching rapidly from the outsides of your eyes. Your body is in free fall, no longer under control of your mind. 
The last thing you sense is a pair of big arms catching you princess style. 
••••••••
“Dammit!” Reiner hisses, turning fast on his heels toward the infirmary. He’s quick to dodge the other scouts walking away from the cart, moving as fast as he could while keeping your limp body still in his arms. 
I’m always so fucking oblivious. Why do I ever listen to her? Always trying so hard to make sure she’s not being a burden. Of course she was lying to me, why couldn’t I have just taken better care of her from the start?
He slides through the infirmary front doors, alerting some nurses behind the desk of your condition. He keeps you tight in his arms as they swiftly guide you to a room. You let out a little groan once he sets you down on the hospital cot. 
God dammit. This is all my fault. Damn I can’t stand to see her face like this, all tensed up - she must be in so much pain. Shit, I am not about to tear up right now. 
Nurses rush over to you, quick to put you on some fluids and start sewing up your leg. Your condition quickly stabilizes, allowing the nurses to give you some much needed time to sleep off your injuries. 
Reiner insisted on taking over the nurses' duties after that point. Big, gentle hands would change out your bandaging every so often, along with keeping cold rags on your head and holding your hand when looks of discomfort appeared on your face. In his mind, it was the least he could do to subdue his guilt - to make it up to you.
He sat there all night, a big nervous mess in the chair he pulled up next to you. He hated getting so emotional like this, especially around someone who he needed to believe he was invincible. Luckily for him, you were still sleeping like a baby, unaware of his concerns. 
You finally open your groggy eyes early in the morning - the sun hasn't even peaked over the horizon yet. Your unfocused gaze wanders to the side of the bed. 
There he is - his head sits in his hand as he stares out the dark window from his chair. His short blonde hair is disheveled, probably from nervous hands running through it all night. Dark circles encompass his upper cheeks. He clearly hadn’t slept a wink.
“Hey,” you whisper.
Reiner jumps a little bit from his daze, quickly turning to look at you. He lets out a long sigh of relief, wiping a hand down his tense face.
“You had me worried sick,” he grumbles. You hum in response, a sleepy smile accidentally forms across your cheeks.
He half-smiles back, studying the sweet look on your face, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
“Did you sleep?” you question.
He blushes a little, “You don’t need to be worrying about me, y/n.”
You scoot over on your cot, pulling the sheets down to expose a little spot for him to lay. His eyes get wide, darting back and forth between you and the empty half of the bed a few times.
He gets up from his chair quietly and makes his way to your bed, sliding under the white sheets and placing his tired head on the pillow. You move in close, placing your head in the nook between his chest and his bicep. A muscular arm wraps around your waist as his head leans over to rest against yours.
The two of you lay together in the silence of the hospital, chests rising and falling at slowing rates. You felt completely at ease now, knowing all the lengths Reiner had gone to in order to keep you safe.
“You know, once I wake up,” he yawns, his words becoming slower and slower as sleep creeps over him, “you're never… gonna… hear… the end of it.”
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Hey! Can you write something with Chishiya and Y/N when she almost died in game beacuse of Niragi but didn't tell anyone about this (he tripped her on purpouse or smth). Chishiya finds her up on the roof few days later really anxious+crying beacuse her visa is ending and she is scared that Niragi will come and play the same game as her and will try to do something bad. Chishiya becames really protective over her especially when he sees her bruised knees.
Here you go!
Comfort Zone | Shuntaro Chishiya
{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}
Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Niragi, OC’s, Hatter)
Summary: You came close to dying due to being attacked by Niragi, and you fear it will happen again during the next game. Chishiya notices your anxiety and tries his best to prevent it from happening.
Warnings: mention of murder, swearing, blood, violence (punching)
Word Count: 3.9k
*reader is female
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“Just my luck,” you groaned out, lifting yourself to your feet by using a chair nearby for leverage. “Not only am I clumsy as fuck, I’m also stuck with a group of murderers.”
Hatter had suggested you go with a few of the militants for the next game, as he wished for them to test you to see if you were capable enough to join them.
It was a hearts game called Capture The Flag. It was very self explanatory. You had to capture the opposite team’s flag and bring it back to your base without getting killed by them. The game would continue until a flag was captured, and the losing team would have their small bomb strapped to their chest explode as soon as the flag was returned to the team’s base. So theoretically, you could die at any second. And if that wasn’t stressful enough, everyone carried weapons, ranging from machete’s to revolvers, so you were on high alert.
You were on the same team as a muscular militant woman named Ren and a much younger kid (he looked around fifteen years old) called Minato. But of course, Niragi had to be placed on your team, bringing you nothing but more trouble.
The room you stood in was dark and ominous. You managed to trip over a few shards of glass and impact on the ground heavily, causing your hip to throb in pain as you attempt to recover from the fall.
You had been separated from your group. You managed to sneak off without them noticing, just rather being on your own than with others. You thought you had a better chance by yourself anyway, as no one was there to betray you.
In the Borderland, you didn’t know who to trust, so you kept to yourself.
The brightness of your game phone flashed a light green, reminding you of what colour team you were on. You had to search for a base that was illuminated by a blue light and take the flag that was supposedly meant to be there. But so far, you hadn’t seen any indication of the other team. You hadn’t even seen any of the other players now that you thought about it.
You made your way out of the empty room you had just checked, peeking around the corner down the hall before stepping out of the doorframe. The small  bomb strapped to your chest over your shirt felt heavy on your frame, especially knowing that it held your life in its hands.
You sighed loudly and rubbed your hands together to relieve the tension in your muscles slightly. You had to be close, surely. You had been walking around the abandoned hospital for ages, as if you hadn’t at least walked past the enemy’s base and missed it somehow.
Just as you were about to turn the corner to the main corridor, a whispered grunt made you stop in your tracks. You held your breath and pressed yourself against the cold wall next to you, trying to listen to any movements they make.
The sounds of rustling met your ears, making you frown. It sounded like someone was trying to find something in their pocket, moving around the objects until they’ve found what they need.
You slowly peeked one eye around the corner, making sure not to accidentally hit the wall or fall forwards in fear of the person being an enemy player. Good news, it wasn’t. But seeing someone on your team wasn’t much reassurance either, as all three of them seemed to be clinically insane.
Niragi was crouching over a dead body. A game phone was thrown to the side on the ground a few feet away, emitting a bright blue light. The dead person must have been on the blue team.
The blood pooled around the body, Niragi’s boot being in one of the puddles.
‘Why didn’t I hear the gunshots?’ you asked yourself, watching as Niragi rummaged through the pockets of the guy’s jacket. He was probably looking for another weapon or perhaps something to assist him in the game.
Your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed a slight blue tinge on the fabric of Niragi’s shirt. You turned your head the other way down the hall, eyes lighting up at the sight of a bright fluorescent blue light coming from around the corner. That must’ve been the enemies base.
You glanced back quickly to Niragi, noting he was busy with the corpse, still searching through their pockets. Perhaps you could make it if you were quiet enough.
You slowly lifted a foot while keeping your eyes pinned to the man down the hall, ready to dive back behind the wall if he decided to turn around. When your whole body had left the comfort of the darkened hallway you came from, you turned and quickly shuffled down the hall towards the light, looking over your shoulder every now and then.
When you had turned the corner, you let out a sigh in relief. “Fuck,” you rasped out, wiping your sweating brow with the back of your wrist. “If only I came with Chishiya, I wouldn’t be so cautious.”
You entered a room a few steps in front of you that had a door slightly ajar with the blue light pushing through. You squinted your eyes as you opened the door at the brightness of the light, covering your eyes and hissing lightly.
When your eyes adjusted, you felt a euphoric feeling fill your body when you caught sight of the blue flag resting against the wall. You immediately scrambled over and gripped the wood, feeling the sweet ecstasy of victory and being able to live another few days.
You walked out of the room flag in hand. But as soon as you exited the door, your game phone rang loudly, making you freeze in your spot.
“Green Team has now obtained Blue Flag.”
Your breath became lodged in your throat and you felt your fist tighten on the flag pole. If the game announced it to the rest of the players, they were going to come after you.
Your fear was proven correct when you heard loud footsteps down the hall, making its way to your position. You knew it was Niragi, but the fact that he was on your team gave you slight reassurance. He wouldn’t hurt someone he’s meant to be working with, right?
You couldn’t be so sure, so you pulled out the fairly sized knife that you had sneaked into your pocket before leaving for the game. There was nowhere you could run. Down the hall was the only exit you had.
Before you knew it, the angered face of Niragi turned the corner and you locked eyes. He glanced down at the large knife you held at your side, then at the flag. A smirk painted on his face and he chuckled cockily.
“You think you can defend yourself with that piece of shit?” he asked you, taking a few threatening steps towards your frame. Your feet remained planted on the ground, trying not to appear as panicked as you actually were. “Everyone’s going to come here, and you’re going to fend them off with a kitchen knife?”
You felt belittled from his mocking, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “The fuck else am I supposed to do?” you asked, pointing the tip of the knife in his direction.
Silence filled the air as you and Niragi had a stare down. The grip he held on his rifle tightened whenever you shifted, never failing to make your heart skip a fearful beat.
“Princess,” he started with a sickening pet name, “why don’t you give the flag to me? I’ll protect you.” His sudden change in mood gave you whiplash and you took a step back in confusion, still holding your weapon towards him.
“What?” you muttered out, a bamboozled expression on your face. “I said, pass the flag to me. I’ll make sure we’ll be okay,” he answered while slinging his gun to his side a bit too casually for your comfort.
You watched as he fiddled with the bullet compartments of his rifle. He seemed to have been checking the ammo, making you realise what he was intending.
You shook your head, trying to sound normal, but the slight shakiness in your voice made you quite obvious. “It’s fine Niragi,” you insisted, “I can get it to our base myself.”
He glanced up at your frame as he closed the bullet compartment to his rifle. His serious expression made your adrenaline kick in and your hands began to shake, becoming obvious from the way the tip of the knife was quivering.
“Fine,” he muttered out, basically snarling at you. “I’ll do this the hard way.”
His words made your expression drop and before you could even think, Niragi swung the butt of his rifle and socked you across the side of your head, making you fall to the ground abruptly and drop the blue flag. You groaned in pain, and yet you didn’t even get a second to recover before Niragi blew another hit to your shoulder, kicking you harshly in the stomach at the same time.
You suffocated on nothing, becoming winded from his kick. Gasping for air, you attempted to crawl away from the violent man, shuffling on your hands and knees. Another hit to your lower back brought you to your stomach and you gagged at the sudden feeling.
Luckily, Niragi had quit abusing you and reached down next to your bruised body to pick up the blue flag. “Maybe next time, be careful what you say to me,” he hissed into your ear before standing up and walking away from you.
You laid on the floor for a short moment, trying to compose yourself and control your breathing once again. When you finally came to your senses, you lifted yourself up from the ground while groaning in pain. You had to find a hiding spot, otherwise the Blue Team would find you at their base and kill you.
You used the wall for support as you stood up, bones cracking and blood dripping down the side of your face. You lifted your hand and pressed against your throbbing head, wincing as the pain rocketed from your action.
‘At least he didn’t kill me,’ you thought to yourself. A bright shimmer caught your eye and you turned your head to see your weapon laying on the ground. A grumble left your body as you leant down to pick it up, admiring the way the blue light reflected off it.
You leant against the wall and slowly made your way down the hall, searching for a small cabinet or anywhere that you could hide for the next ten minutes or so. You got a wave of relief when you spotted a cleaner’s cupboard just down the corridor, stumbling towards it.
When you pulled yourself inside the dark cupboard and closed the door, you allowed yourself to slide down against the cold wall, feeling a few tears slip from your eyes.
All you had to do was wait for Niragi to get the flag back to the Green Base and you would be fine, hopefully.
***************
You dragged your exhausted body towards your hotel room, your legs throbbing in pain at every step you climbed. You had decided against going back to the hotel in the car with the other militants, as you didn’t want to deal with the tension of sitting next to the man who almost killed you. Plus, the car would hold half the amount of people it left the hotel with, probably making the atmosphere more eerie.
The door of your hotel room felt heavy as you pushed it open, stumbling into the cold room. You groaned in frustration at your past self. Why didn’t you leave your heater on before you left?
You let out a deep sigh before falling backwards onto your bed, spreading your arms out wide to feel the comforting blankets underneath you. Your eyes closed in content, trying so hard to ignore the pain on the side of your head and your knees.
The blankets shifted underneath your tired frame as you rolled over, pulling the duvet over yourself in the process. You didn’t even have the energy to turn your body so you could place your head on the pillow, so you simply slipped into unconsciousness in the position you laid in, hoping for a better day to come tomorrow.
Whilst you travelled to dreamland in your mind, a short blonde man stood outside your door, knocking lightly on the wood. When Chishiya received no response, he lightly turned the silver door knob and peaked his head into the room. A soft sigh of relief left him when you saw you safe and sound, asleep on your bed. He had been worried from how you were acting as you slumped to your room, noticing that you seemed more tired than usual.
Chishiya walked into the room and quickly shut the door behind him, holding the doorknob until it was completely shut to avoid the clicking noise. He tip-toed towards your frame and admired your sleeping self, his lips curling up at the sight.
“Get some sleep love,” he whispered, running the back of his hand softly down your cheek to sooth you. “You need it.”
Before Chishiya left the room, he tucked the blanket tighter around your body so you stayed warm and gave you a soft peck on your forehead. He glanced back once more before stepping out of the room. He headed back to his own hotel room to get some sleep, feeling content that the person he cares for most was okay.
**************
As the days of your visa grew fewer, your dread grew bigger. Thoughts from your last game bounced around your head, continuing to come back to you in the most random of times. Sometimes you would feel an imaginary harsh kick to your back in your dreams, causing you to wake up abruptly, covered in sweat. You couldn’t escape the fear of Niragi attempting to kill you again. If you managed to run into him again like in the last game, it would be a guarantee that he wouldn’t let you off the hook again.
Just the thought of Niragi blasting a few bullets from his sniper through your head brought you the irrational belief that that was your future. No matter how hard you attempted to shake it, it found its way back into your mind.
The stars shone in the sky, glistening against the endless ceiling of darkness and winking at you from above. It felt foreign to see such sights in the world you lived in, where everything seemed to hold some kind of darkness behind it. Even the label of ‘Utopia’ on The Beach was a complete lie.
You huffed in a stressful tone, hanging your head low and rubbing your eyes with your hands as you leaned your elbows on the railing. The minutes before the next game were becoming less and less. If only you had one more day on your visa, you could potentially avoid all the bullshit that Niragi brought with him everywhere he went.
Hatter had informed you that Niragi was taking you to another game, as he didn’t get to properly assess your skills last time. He was making you go because that night was the night your visa ended. You didn’t have a choice.
Before you knew it, small droplets of tears escaped your eyes, cascading down your face and dripping off your chin. You felt helpless and scared. You could do nothing but wait for the fire alarms to ring to indicate Hatter’s speech before everyone left for their own games. It felt like your time on the roof was lasting forever, so you tried to drag out your time there as long as you could.
You closed your eyes and lifted your head high, letting the cold air swim around your face and bring you comfort. “This isn’t fucking fair,” you stated bluntly to yourself.
It wasn’t. Why did the world think you deserved this kind of stress? You never asked to be in the Borderland. You never asked to be involved with these people. Why did you have to be thrown into this mess?
The sound of light footsteps ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to whip your head around and lock eyes with Chishiya, who froze a few metres away. Your face visibly relaxed at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling weakly as he lifted his hands in defence from your paranoid actions.
“Hey Chishiya,” you greeted him, turning your back and wiping your tears from your eyes. “Sorry, I’ll be down soon. Just give me a minute.”
Chishiya frowned at your shaky voice, approaching your frame and placing a soft hand on your shoulder. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
You turned your face to him and his eyes displayed concern as soon as they met with your teary ones. “Wait, baby why are you crying?” he asked, placing a hand on the small of your back and another cupping your cheek to make you look at him.
You shook your head and gave a fake smile, not wanting to tell Chishiya what had happened. “It’s fine. I’m just getting a bit stressed for tonight.”
Chishiya eyebrows furrowed at your answer, noticing how you bit your lip after your sentence. You only ever did that when you were lying.
His eyes glanced up towards the small gash on the side of your head. “How did this happen?” he questioned you, lifted his hand to run a gentle thumb over the injury. You glanced at him nervously as he waited for an answer.
“Oh that? It’s nothing. I just managed to trip over and smack my head on the wall during the last game. You know me, such a clumsy idiot,” you tried to laugh it off.
Chishiya didn’t buy it for a second. He moved his gaze to the rest of your body, searching for any more injuries. He had had enough of your lying when he saw your bruised knees, dried blood around the edges of small cuts from earlier when you accidentally reopened them.
“Y/N, what happened the other day? Who did this to you?” Chishiya asked in a serious tone, wrapping his hands around your neck and holding you protectively. “These look bad Y/N. I’ll have to treat them for you.”
You nodded, looking down at the ground. Chishiya lifted your chin with his finger to make you have eye contact. “You going to tell me what happened?”
You let out a big sigh, accepting the fact that you can’t hide literally anything from Chishiya. He knew you too well.
“Look, it’s fine Chishiya. Niragi just got mad at me during a game. You know how he is. I’m honestly glad that he didn’t do anything else,” you explained, watching as Chishiya’s face contorted into anger at your confession.
He fell silent, making you more tense. You knew Chishiya was really aggravated when he went completely silent.
“Niragi did this to you?” he asked scarily calmly, running a soft hand over the gash on your head again. You nodded, leaning against his touch.
“Alright. You stay with me tonight. I don’t care what Hatter has asked from you. You stick by my side and don’t let go of my hand,” Chishiya demanded you, pulling you into a comforting hug. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent.
“I love you,” he whispered out, giving you a soft smooch on your cheek. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
You shook your head in denial. “Don’t be baby. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
Chishiya smiled happily at your words, pulling back from the hug and giving you a loving kiss on your lips. You both held each other close, moving your mouths against one another’s intimately.
You felt safe in Chishiya’s arms and he felt safe in yours. And that’s where both of you were intending to stay as long as possible.
****************
You sat on Chishiya’s small bed, admiring as the young man wiped carefully over the dried blood on your knees. He was being so careful, holding you by the underneath of your knee and making sure not to press too hard on your bruises.
You had returned from the game you attended with Chishiya. Before the game commenced, you both hid on the roof so Niragi or Hatter wouldn’t come looking for you, wanting to take you to the game. You waited until most cars had left before making your way down to the bottom floor, climbing into the last car together that only held two other people you didn’t know.
Chishiya made sure to keep you by his side the entire game, not letting go of your hand once. At some point you were afraid he was going to sacrifice himself for you, as he wasn’t acting too far from it. His protective side had kicked in and he wasn’t taking your situation lightly.
At some point you both had to hide from an attacker. Chishiya had shoved you both into the corner of a small room, shielding your entire body with his with both of his hands against the walls, keeping you trapped in and hidden. The action alone was enough to make you realise how much Chishiya actually cared, how afraid he actually was of losing you.
“All done,” the blonde announced, breaking you from your thoughts. You grinned as he glanced up at you, giving you a cheeky wink. He shifted up the bed and leant against the headboard beside you. “Are you okay?” he asked once again, his fingers lightly running along your thigh soothingly. You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about Niragi,” Chishiya reassured you after a short moment of silence. You looked up at him from his shoulder. “Why not?” you asked.
Chishiya gave a cocky smirk and ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll make sure to give him a piece of my mind,” he said in a monotone voice as usual.
You chuckled at his words before placing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m sure you will,” you laughed.
Chishiya smiled happily and turned his body. He picked you up slightly and made you lie down before placing himself next to your frame. You rolled over to face him, not even getting a chance to breath before his lips were on yours.
His kiss was passionate, running his tongue along your lips to ask for you to open them. You obliged, letting him have his way with you. You ran your fingers up underneath his shirt, feeling his warm skin shiver underneath you touch. He groaned at the feeling, pushing himself closer to you and placing one hand on the back of your neck while the other dragged lazy patterns along your bare hip.
You two held each other close, getting lost and drunk on the thoughts and feelings of one another. No one could make each of you feel the way you made each other feel. In Chishiya’s arms you felt safe and content, making all the terrible things around you disappear. And for Chishiya, you made him feel sane again. You made him remember that he was human, he was allowed to have human emotions and make mistakes.
You brought a sense of comfort to one another, and clearly Chishiya wasn’t willing to let anything come between you both.
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Text
Three Nights (Unconditional sequel)
Night Two
05/25/2021
Pairing: August Walker x fem!reader (3rd person)
Word Count: 1,807
Warnings: hormones, sex during pregnancy, fingering, vaginal sex, slight dom!August, dirty talk, language
Summary: In the middle of her second trimester, Mrs Walker is a hormonal mess. One night, she finds herself in dire need of release, but August just won't wake.
A/N: Next part of the sequel coming right up and things are getting a little steamy...
If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.
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(I couldn't find the source of this picture, so if anyone happens to know, please tell me.)
“August?”
Expectantly she listened into the silence. Nothing. Well, at least if one didn’t count his steady breathing and the rolling of the waves in the distance.
“August,” she tried again, a little louder this time. But still he didn’t move. Measuring her options, she watched his face in the pale moonlight that fell through the open windows. He looked so peaceful, and she envied him his deep slumber. How was he not even sweating in this clammy heat?
Finally, the curtains swayed in a breeze of night air, making her hope for a little refreshment, but it only brought more of the sweltering humidity. With a thud, her head fell back into the pillows, underlined by a frustrated sigh. Slowly her hands drifted over the already rather prominent bump that had once been a delightfully squishy part of her body.
“You know this is really only your fault, right? As if the bloody nausea hadn’t been enough in the first place, now you decide to torture me with everlasting horniness instead. Is it too early to say that you’re taking after your father completely?”
But instead of an answer, another gush of wind rolled over her sensitive skin, the sensation alone enough to make her moan as it coaxed another wave of desire to roll through her. This was insufferable, she thought, as she propped herself up on one elbow again. Why wouldn’t he just wake up? At every other time, he picked up on her horny state with the precision of a bloodhound. Damned be his stupid sound sleep.
She bit her lip as a thought crossed her mind. She would most likely regret this and in the end it would probably hurt her more than him. But desperate times demanded desperate measures, and by now she was willing to do almost anything if he only tended to her need and got his dick inside of her promptly.
“August!” she almost yelled and with a swish, her hand cut through the thick air until it came down on his cheek with a harsh slap.
Roaring at the top of his lungs he was wide awake in an instant. And before she could fathom what was happening, she found herself on her back, wrists pressed into the pillow next to her head by his strong hands, furious eyes glaring down at her wildly.
“You’re lucky you’re carrying my child, woman, or you might have found yourself bend over my knees by now to receive your adequate punishment.”
She could feel her walls clench violently around nothing by the mere thought of him having his way with her like that. And before she even had the chance to hold it back, a needy whimper escaped her lips.
“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, very much.” She bit her lip again and it didn’t escape her notice how his grip on her loosened a bit, his eyes softening equally upon her eagerness.
“Is this why you woke me up?”
She nodded, shooting him a perfect pair of doe eyes. “Bloody hormones won’t let me sleep, Augie.”
With a huff, more of the tension left his body. “At least that would explain why you thought it wise to slap me awake.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I did try the nice way, but you just wouldn’t wake up and my panties are literally soaked.”
He growled lowly in the back of his throat, making her clench even harder.
“Are they now?”
Careful not to put his weight onto her body, he clutched both of her wrists in just one hand. He grinned smugly and she knew immediately that she was in trouble. The best kind of trouble. And while she still couldn’t believe that her ludicrous plan had actually worked, his free hand dipped down between her legs without a warning, forcing them apart to grant him better access. Lazily, he dragged his fingers through her folds, stirring the fire inside of her with minimal effort.
“Now that’s disappointing.” What? Having expected his praise, those words of displeasure made her heart fall instantly. But he wasn’t done scolding her, yet. “First you hit me like a bloody lunatic and now you have the audacity to lie to my face so shamelessly, princess?”
“I’m not lying,” she croaked, feeling utterly sorry for herself as she saw her chances for satisfaction dwindle, “My juices are practically flowing over.”
But August’s face stayed unreadable, giving her no hint at all where this was going.
“Oh, no doubt about that,” he finally stated after a long minute of silence.
Wrinkling her forehead in confusion, she was forced to watch helplessly as his face came closer. She could already feel his searing breath on her lips, closing her eyes in anticipation of a redeeming kiss, when he turned his head only the fraction of an inch before contact and dove down into the crook of her neck.
“But your panties aren’t soaked at all, princess, because actually, you’re not wearing any.”
The hunger in his impossibly low voice would have been enough to make her dizzy, but when he bit down on her neck with purpose her body reacted of its own accord. Her back arched violently, pressing herself into him while a deep moan told of her want for more. And when she suddenly felt his fingertips press into her entrance, she knew that his whole act of disappointment had simply been for show. A distraction, so that he -
Oh God, his fingers were filling her so perfectly. Deeper and deeper he sank into her until he was buried three knuckles deep. With a gasp her eyes flew open again and she almost missed his next sentence above the white noise that rushed in her ears.
“You know, you’re really lucky, my painfully aroused angel. Because your sweet little pussy is far too wet to worry about such minor details now.”
His fingers had picked up a steady pace, sliding in and out of her sensitive womanhood pointedly. It was a good start, she thought, but by far not enough to sate her craving. As always, he enjoyed teasing her more than anything. But unlike every other time, tonight she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing, not in the agonising state she was in.
“August, please,” she whimpered. “You promised to make it better, not worse.”
Unimpressed by her words, he continued his slow ministrations, his mouth nipping and sucking its way from her shoulder to her ear.
“You must be mistaken,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft spot right underneath her ear that made her shiver. “I can’t remember making a promise like that at any point.”
Another wave of frustration took hold of her as her brain registered his repeated rejection. Straining against his tight grip, she was practically begging by now.
“Please, I…”
“Say it!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need.”
No, she wouldn’t let him have this triumph, even if he chose to deny her the satisfaction she longed for because of her disobedience. In that case she would have to tend to herself, but under no circumstance would she let him tease her anymo - oh.
Holy shit. She didn’t know how this was possible, but it somehow had escaped her notice altogether that his head had abandoned its spot next to hers and had dipped down to pay his attention to one of her oversensitive breasts. And before she would lose her mind completely, she cried out in a state of utter desperation.
“I need you to fuck me, August. Please. Let me feel your hard cock deep inside of me or I’ll go insane.”
In the blink of an eye he stopped, his hands and mouth retreating as soon as she had finally said the words, giving her some time to calm down a little.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, princess, was it?” he whispered smugly. “Now let me deliver you from your agony.”
Her senses still in overdrive, she felt too weak to even move, but that didn’t matter anyway because, as always, August took care of her. Gently he moved her around until her body moulded into his perfectly. His warm chest lay against her back, his arm offering her a comfortable place to rest her head, and soon she could feel the claiming press of his promisingly hard length. With no effort at all, he sank into her, and finally, finally the excruciating unease inside of her ebbed away.
“Shit, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, darling.” His hot breath fanned across her neck, setting her on fire.
“I’ve also never been this pregnant and this horny before,” she moaned, her hand finding his on the cool sheets, entwining her fingers with his as he slowly started to move.
“Don’t worry. I promise we’re going to change one of these two in no time.”
And eager to keep his promise, his free hand dove down to the junction of her thighs, granting himself access to her bud. Carefully he pressed down, opting for drawing slow, deliberate circles. She was so hypersensitive as of lately and he was determined not to overdo it like last time. But judging from her elaborated breaths and the tell-tale sounds that fell from her sweet mouth, she was enjoying herself genuinely.
“August.” His name rolled over her lips with a shiver while his mouth tended to the sweet spot on her neck. Argus-eyed, he monitored every movement, every noise she made. Her relief was all that mattered to him now. But the first beads of sweat were already beginning to form on her forehead, triggering his worry in mere seconds.
“Should we stop?”
“No!” she almost cried out as if she was in pain. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”
And as soon as she had uttered the words, she could feel the eagerly-awaited tension inside of her build. Every thrust, every kiss he left on her overheated skin, every groan that rolled through his chest brought her closer, pushing her closer towards deliverance. And when she finally passed the point of no return, she turned her head to find his lips while the redeeming pleasure rolled over her enraptured body. And just when she thought she would pass out from all the bliss, she could feel his response.
He was sure that she had never climaxed this hard, her walls gripping him so tightly that the sensation caught him completely off guard. Speeding up his hips, he allowed himself to give in as well. And while his mind gradually clouded over, he grabbed her belly possessively in his last moment of clarity and for the first time, he could feel a sign of the life that was growing inside of her.
Part 3
***
Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!
@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @agniavateira
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halaboyz · 3 years
Text
–– PHOTOGRAPH // CHANHEE.
pairing: photographer! chanhee x  fem! reader genre: fluff, bffs to lovers word count: 2k warnings // notes: profanities, cliche, cheesy things and shitty effort of making lines ;; happiest birthday to our choi chanhee!! may he be blessed for his heart full of love <3
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"You're coming to my exhibit, right?" He said as he hands you one of the tickets, and you chuckling because of the name of his exhibit.
"What kind of name is this?" You stifled a laugh, "My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You,"
Chanhee watches you hold on to dear life as you burst out laughing, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes.
"Well, if only the linguistic major here helped me pick out some words I don't even know exists," He glares at you, "Then maybe we could've picked a better name, am I right?" He rolls his eyes as you calmed down, finally taking a seat beside him on the couch.
“Okay, okay Mr. grumpy, I’m sorry,” You said between laughter. Looking at the time and date, you nod, your smile slowly fading to a frown.
“What’s wrong? You can’t come again?” He frowns with you, a pout coming out of his lips. Your heart broke by the sight, knowing that even if he had hundreds of exhibits already, you haven’t come to one because of work.
“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to miss this one too,” You tackled him into a hug. “I have a very important meeting set by last minute,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck, causing him to whine.
“I was so sure you’d go to this one though..” You hear him mumble, as a sigh came out. 
“How are you so sure?” You raised your eyebrows at him, sitting up. 
“I checked your schedule!” He exclaimed, getting the ticket from you. “I can’t help it. You always have work when I handle an exhibit and wow, are you still my best friend?” He dramatically stands up, making his way to the other couch in front of you.
“Aw,” You whined, tailing him and throwing yourself at him again making him groan. “Give me that,” You reach for the ticket, only to be pulled by Chanhee again.
“Can’t you just cancel it?” He pouts, looking desperate.
“Look, I’m not the client. I can’t just cancel whenever,” You pressed his cheeks together, wiggling his face. “But give me the ticket. If they can set meetings last minute, they might cancel things last minute too. We’ll never know,” You reached higher, grabbing the ticket.
Chanhee huffed, making you lose your footing and it all happened so fast, you instinctively put out your elbow to support your fall– well, on the floor. You didn’t know Chanhee had that goddamn fast reflexes as he pulls you close to him, making you elbow his.. danger zone.
You shrieked as chanhee silently suffers, his face saying it all. 
“Oh my fucking god..” You muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from bursting in laughter. 
Chanhee lets out a small groan as you slowly remove your elbows, your face mirroring Chanhee’s pained face.
“I’m so sorry,” You mumble, letting out a small laugh.
“I’d kill you if you laugh right in front of me,” He sighs out, crouching and wriggled his body all over the couch.
You were red. Oh, no. Not because of what just happened, but because you were stopping yourself from laughing. You knew Chanhee meant every word he said.
“You should fucking go at my exhibit after busting my balls,” He mumbled against the throw pillow.
“Hey! Not my fault you pulled me!”
You were redder. Oh, no. Not because you were now suppressing your laughter, but how you remembered how close Chanhee was to you just minutes ago if it weren’t for his unfortunate luck.
He suddenly stands up, wincing.
“Are you kidding me?! If it weren’t for me, you’re injured and crying and we’re probably on the way to the hospital right now!” He sighs out, the pain finally fading second by second.
You fanned yourself, trying to focus on what your friend was saying.
“Anyways,” You shake your head. “I’ll do my best.” You smile at him apologetically before sticking out your tongue, and ending the night while getting tackled by Chanhee– as if he was possessed by Changmin.
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You bounced your feet continuously, waiting for your client. You just prayed for it to be really, really short to get to Chanhee’s exhibition. 
You knew how important this was to him, and it broke your heart that as his best friend, you can’t even go to one. 
Or was it because you’re starting to see Chanhee in a whole, different light?
There are a few times that your heart thumped abnormally at the sight of Chanhee frowning, and you can’t put your finger on which emotion was it. Did it hurt you because you were his best friend and you can’t go, or did it hurt because you were still a best friend? Either way, if it were the latter, if you were his girlfriend– no, you didn’t deserve him. 
You can’t even make time for him as a best friend, how’d you do if you were his?
Starting to overthink, you were thankful by the sound of your phone rang for a second, signaling a message.
chanhee: go or this friendship is over. grr sent 3:35pm
You knew he was joking. Partly, you guess. Or maybe not. You suddenly became nervous, your feet bouncing doubled. You sip on the drink, you had twenty-five minutes left to run over his exhibit, but the client–
You jump as your phone suddenly rang, making you tremble. Your client was finally calling, after being late for fifteen minutes already.
And oh my god, your heart could have burst from the news. You hailed a taxi as fast as you can, and the smile on your face can’t stop rising.
Finally. You were finally getting to see his exhibit.
You smile more at the thought, more to expect of Chanhee’s reaction. You felt nervous, excited, and giddy. It wasn’t the first time seeing Chanhee’s works, as he’d been part of the photography club since college, but it still made you excited and proud of what he’s become.
You sighed in relief as you look outside, the big name– My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You welcoming you. 
3:50.
Ten minutes. You just need to run, no biggie. 
“Hi, I’m uh.. Chanhee’s friend.” You smile at the guard, handing him your ticket while still trying to catch your breath.
“Oh! You’re! You’re! You’re the friend!” He exclaimed, excitedly opening the door for you. “You’re just in time! Well, technically, you’re.. running a bit late but! Doesn’t matter. You’re finally here!” You just look at him confusingly, nodding your head as you roam your eyes on the big place.
Your heartbeat is twice as fast more than running. 
You felt combusting quite literally. Your eyes wandered to each picture, letting it sink in that those in the pictures..
Were you.
It was all you.
There were only a few people left, smiling as they take in every photograph that wasn’t even them.
“These are so sweet. The name of the exhibit literally says it all,” A woman in her middle 30s, you guess, said as she clung to her probably husband’s arm.
“It does. The photographer’s indeed talented. Even makes me giddy,” You chuckle as you eavesdropped, reverting your attention back to the pictures.
All was black and white.
But it didn’t matter.
What colored his world was you– it has always been you. 
A black and white picture doesn’t do justice to how much light you bring to his dull world, it was just you that he needed in order to make a simple black and white picture to be beautiful.
Your smile. It was one of the things he loved seeing, he loved taking a picture of. It made everyone around you smile too, and it made him upset that it wasn’t just him making you smile.
Your hair, how every single hairstyle suits you, how it flows across your face, and how you always brush it back when it frustratingly gets in your face. One of his favorites and loved taking a picture of it along with the pout on your face.
Your eyes, which spoke a thousand words and held millions of stars and also one of the millions of things he loved about you, and seeing it on a picture didn’t make sense as you needed to see it in person to make you feel butterflies on your stomach.
Every move you did was captured on his camera, and you didn’t even realize the tears have already gone out of your eyes.
He made you beautiful.
He made you feel beautiful,
Because you always were.
You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. 
You were already in the last picture, and oh were you certain chanhee wasn’t the one who took this. You felt thankful enough Changmin, your other friend, had quite the skills in taking pictures too because this.. was just perfect. 
You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. Because he is what completed you.
It was a picture taken afar of you sleeping in the library on one of your college days, and Chanhee was supporting his head with his palm, looking– just looking at you with heart eyes.
“Oh my fucking god,” You sighed out, crouching as you messily wiped your tears away, though it still kept on spilling.
“You’re finally here.” That sweet, familiar voice that enchanted you sighed out, from the corner of the four-walled place. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he had finally had the burden out of his chest. “So, what do you think?”
Just like the pictures, you didn’t need words. You just throw yourself at him, nuzzling against his neck as you cried like a baby.
He sighs out again, relieved, as he buried himself more to you and engulfing each other’s warmth. His hands continued to calm you down by caressing your back, and you tried your best to stop crying.
Chanhee pulls back, taking your face to his hands and wiping your tears away.
“Hey, look at me,” He leans closer to you, lifting your face up softly. “If you didn’t get the whole point of this exhibition then.. I might just smack you in the face.” 
You let out a small defeated laugh, wiping the tears yourself.
“I love you too if that was what it meant.” You look at him straight in the eyes, slouching your shoulders. You took his face into your hands too, pressing your lips softly in his.
He smiled in the kiss, his hands making their way to your neck as he kisses you back.
More than perfect.
The moment you were both out of breath, you break the kiss but let your foreheads linger with each other, smiles on your faces.
“Just.. how many times have you tried doing this?” You whisper, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining your fingers. 
You pull him in front of the last picture you’ve seen, now clear as ever without your tears on the way.
“Oh, I think out of my hundred and fifty exhibits you missed,” You roll your eyes, the sarcasm his voice spilling. “It's my 98th try. That’s why I really needed you to come.” He looks at you, thinking it was much better seeing you in person rather than just a photograph– as if it's like the first time seeing you all over again.
“And if I didn’t come? Would you really have the guts to break this friendship?” You face him back, taking his other hand.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I’d take it in my own hands and just.. straight up confess.” He craned his head sideward, challenging you.
“I’d been feeling very weird these days too, I just realized how much I am so in love with you if it weren’t for your art speaks words I want to deliver to me,” You chuckle, making him throw his head back.
Perfect.
Chanhee loved everything about photography, and he loved photography because it’s able to take what’s beautiful and he can cherish it forever. He loved it because not only it can take pictures of his friends, or nature, or what he found beautiful and calming, but it has the power to turn everything into a memory he can keep. He loved photography, he loved taking a picture of you, he loved you.
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dracowars · 3 years
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obsessed | tom riddle
pairing: tom x reader
word count: 2,9k
summary: where y/n dislikes tom's obsession of becoming the dark lord
a/n: my first tom imagine for @creeping156tin !!! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
warnings: angst, claustrophobia, mentions of blood
universe: harry potter
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A loud, painful scream suddenly pulls you out of your deep, peaceful sleep and you shoot up from your bed, your dorm room almost completely wrapped in darkness except for a few dim candlelights.
"What was that?!", your roommate asks you in fear and lights up all the lamps in your room with a spell. The other two girls also look around anxiously and neither of you know an answer to the question.
Until you suddenly hear numerous voices and steps outside your room and you quickly jump up, your friends accompanying you as you quietly open the heavy door. Carefully, you peer out of the narrow gap, only to see how all the other students in your house are running around in front of it, frightened.
"What is going on here?", you ask one of the students who you get hold of first, and look at him expectantly but somehow also a little bit scared.
"Somebody is supposed to have died!", he answers you shortly and as fast as you stopped him, he sprints off again, following the others.
Taking a look at your friends, who are still standing close behind you at the door, you can see the pure fear in their eyes. And even though they do not look like they want to leave your dorm any time soon, they nod understandingly as a sign that they still want to come with you. After all, there have always been a lot of rumours going around Hogwarts that were ultimately false anyway.
Hastily grabbing your cloaks in the colors of your house, you follow the other students out into the dark and cold corridors of Hogwarts. One of your friend is clinging onto your left arm while you are busy seeing where everyone is going.
Although you are never really afraid of anything, you now have a very uncomfortable feeling in your stomach area. The high-pitched, deafening scream from earlier still gives you an incredible amount of goosebumps all over your body and thousands of questions fly through your head.
If someone was actually killed, then who? And above all, by whom?
The four of you continue to follow the crowd, which already seems pretty strange to you as this succeeds without further problems because no teacher is patrolling the corridors like usually, and you finally stop in a long, illuminated hallway. Half of the school is probably in this certain hallway right now and romps into a big pile.
The feeling of fear is suddenly overshadowed by worry as your thoughts wander off while you get closer to the crowd. They wander off to Tom Riddle, your best friend.
The questions where he is and whether he is okay or not buzz through your mind and your knees become much shakier than before.
What if something happened to him?
Not wanting to further think about the possible worst case scenarios, you continue on your way. Everyone in the crowd is whispering wildly and you can only pick up a few snippets of words here and there that do not help you at all. The longer you stay among them, the worse you get. However, you are abruptly freed from this bad feeling when a loud shout echoes through the corridor all of a sudden.
"All students have to go back to their rooms immediately! There is nothing to see here", you recognize Armando Dippet's, the headmaster's, voice in the exclamation that silenced everyone.
But due to the fact that the headmaster himself is here right now, the feeling of uncertainty returns inside of you because it cannot mean anything good if he has to be here at this late hour. Apparently not only you think that way, because suddenly the murmuring around you gets louder again.
Across the hall you spot Dippet and several other teachers, including Dumbledore, who are currently trying to hold the students back. At first it is quite difficult for you to see from what exactly they are holding them back, but in the next moment you notice the door to the girls' bathroom and how it opens.
An unknown person steps out of and you catch a glimpse through the now opened door to a stretcher with a white cloth on top of it. You have to swallow hard at the sight, but you do not have time to see more as you are rudely pushed aside.
"It's Myrtle!"
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened!"
The teachers from each house immediately begin to bring the students back to their common rooms after the exclamations, which is why you are pushed around even more now. Meanwhile you have already lost your friends in the crowd and the whispering around you is getting louder and louder with each second, so that you slowly but surely lose your orientation.
But suddenly everything around you falls silent when your gaze lands on him.
"Tom!", you loudly call out his name and try to somehow fight your way through the crowd. However, he does not seem to have heard you and just keeps staring in the direction of the bathroom before turning away to walk into the other direction.
Finally being able to free yourself from the crowd, you take a deep breath and follow your boyfriend as quickly as possible so that you do not lose him in the labyrinth of corridors and staircases.
"Tom! Wait!", you yell after him when you spot him at the end of an empty hallway. He flinches briefly before he turns around and recognizes you, relief written over his face.
Your steps echo loudly from the walls as you fall around his neck and deeply inhale his scent, calming you down right away.
"What are you doing here, Y/N? You should be on your way back to your dorm by now", he says with such tension in his voice that you immediately break the hug and get away from him, looking at him worriedly.
"What is it?", you ask him directly, his expression how you have never seen it before. Kind of obsessed.
"Nothing. What should be, sweetheart? I am fine", he assures you and places his hand against your cheek, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead which is apparently meant to calm you down. You softly press his hand back on your cheek with your own as he tries to loosen it.
"Somebody was murdered, Tom. How can you be doing fine? That is terrible!", you express frightened and look deep into his eyes, in which you can see nothing but a crazy twinkle. "There is something else that is bothering you. I can see it, Tom. Tell me."
Finally removing his hand from you, he stares at you for a moment, completely speechless. It just does not go into his head how you can see through him so easily, how you can detect everything within seconds. He was never used to beeing looked after by someone, but since you came into his life, his otherwise dark and cold soul started to feel a little bit brighter and warmer with each minute he has spent with you so far.
"Talk to me, Tom. They said something about the Chamber of Secrets. Have you not been talking about it for two weeks?", you mention and want to step closer to him again, but he immediately takes a step back and lets the cold of the night envelop your body.
"You wouldn't understand anyway", he scoffs, averting his gaze from you while convulsively clenching his hands into fists and all of a sudden he no longer looks like the Tom Riddle with whom you fell so deeply in love with.
"What did you do, Tom?", you shakily breathe out, fear flowing through your body because of the fact that might really have something to do with this. Since his response is taking an unnaturally long time to come, tears already form in your eyes, but your voice is failing you as you try to speak up.
"I finally made it, Y/N. I finally opened the Chamber of Secrets", he admits and your breath gets caught in your throat, the satisfied smile on his lips disturbing you. "I can finally sleep in peace again. It was amazing, Y/N!"
Staring at him in disbelief as he is basically enjoying what he has done right in front of your eyes, a tear finds its way down your cheek and you barely dare to say your next words.
"Please tell me that you have nothing to do with her death", you utter, hurt evident in your voice, and look at him with a heartbreaking expression on your face.
"It is not my fault that this stupid girl was in that bathroom, but believe me I would do it again every damn time", he explains in all honesty and tries to convince you that nothing is wrong with his actions. "I would open the chamber again every time, Y/N. I knew you wouldn't understand!"
In fact, yes, you could not for the life of you understand. None of his words make any sense to you. You have had this conversation many times already in the past. And every time it ended the same way: you were deeply hurt and he just left. For him everything revolves around his dream of becoming a Dark Lord who rules the whole wizarding world.
"Tom, you killed someone! Of course I do not understand! What do you expect from me? That I am happy for you?", you yell at him, now with much more anger than sadness in your voice.
"Well, yes. That would be an idea for once instead of trying to reprimand me again and again", he rolles his eyes in annoyance and gives you a derogative look.
"All I ever wanted was to protect you from doing something stupid that you may never be able to to reverse, but obviously I miserably failed", you sob as you cannot longer keep your tears under control.
"I never asked you to", he hisses with no emotion.
"I have always taken care of you and this is how you thank me!?", you angrily scream in his face, but he does not even move an inch. "Stop this stupid rambling about becoming a Dark Lord or.. Or otherwise I will never talk to you again, Tom."
"Then leave! I don't need you. Get out of my life!", he yells at you when he can no longer hold back his emotions and you feel your heart break in two, but do as he pleases and leave without another word.
Two weeks later and almost no one talks about the incident anymore, even though a fellow student was brutally killed. However, it is more than fine for you if it means that you will not be reminded of him and his hurtful words towards you every time.
"Hey, Y/N. You look so pale today. Is everything alright?", your friend asks you as she worriedly looks at your still full plate, which you have not touched yet, just like the weeks before.
With a forced smile you nod at her, signalising that you are fine, when in reality you are anything but fine. You have never felt this bad in your life.
Maybe you and Tom were just best friends and not meant to be, but you always felt a different kind of feeling towards him that was definetely beyond friendship. And for a while you even imagined that he could maybe feel the same way.
Oh, and how wrong you were.
Listlessly moving your meanwhile cold food around on your plate, you listen to the conversation of your group of friends who are animatedly talking about today's Quidditch game. But somehow your brain cannot process any of their words correctly since your thoughts keep wandering back to him.
You have not seen him since the terrible incident, neither in class nor in the hallways. Even though you forbid yourself it, you still worry about him despite everything that happened between you. You do not want to give him the satisfaction that he is still continuously on your mind, but you just cannot help it.
"Y/N! Will you be at the Quidditch game today as well? We want to make a detour to the lake afterwards", one of your friends asks you enthusiastically and without really thinking about it, you agree with a nod. A little distraction will not hurt you.
Later in the day, after your class in Muggle Studies, you make your way back to your dorm to prepare for the Quidditch game later. Stepping up the stairs you spontaneously decide that you want to let your thoughts dangle a bit more so you make a detour through Hogwarts to get to the courtyard to get some fresh air.
With your books tucked under your arm, you run down the stairs and slowly walk through the long corridor to the clock tower. With your gaze focused on the deserted hallway in front of you, you are about to reach the junction to the courtyard when a person steps into your field of vision. A person you did not expect.
At the other end of the corridor is none other than Tom himself, who, just like you, abruptly stopped walking when he spotted you on the other side. For a short moment you stare at each other from the distance.
This moment does not last long when the painful memories appear in your head again. You lower your gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact, press your books against your chest as if they could protect you as a shield, and turn to the courtyard.
Fortunately, you do not hear any footsteps behind you and you assume that he does not dare to follow you, which is why you slow down your pace and take in a deep breath when you arrive outside. There is no one around, only the birds happily chirp over your head, until you hear loud steps behind you all of a sudden.
"Y/N!", he calls you and you freeze in your movement, your heart racing.
With shaking hands you turn to him, despite the countless warnings in your head. Tom is only a few meters away, a sad look on his flawless face.
You do not say a word, just wait for what he has to say to you. If he even has anything to say at all.
"I am so glad I found you", he exhales heavily and runs his hand through his brown hair. You immediately notice the dried blood on his hand.
"You are bleeding", the words pour out of of you unintentionally, obviously showing him that you still care about him after all. You prevent yourself from thinking about the cause of his injury.
"O-Oh, yes. Well, that is not that bad", he laughs nervously, but your eyes stick to his injured hand until he hides it behind his back. "We need to talk, Y/N."
"What is there to still talk about? I have nothing to say to you."
"I know", Tom sighs, not quite sure what to say himself. Silence spreads between you again until you break it with a loud scoff.
"Good. If you have nothing to say either, then I can go", you accuse him before walking past him, but you are promptly grabbed by the wrist and pulled back.
"I love you", he confesses out of nowhere and even though these are the words that you always wanted to hear so bad, tears form in your eyes and you angrily swat your hand out of his grasp.
"That is not fair, Tom! You can't just tell me something like that after you broke my heart and destroyed our friendship!", you whine and quickly wipe the tears away as he gets closer to you.
"I was so damn stupid, Y/N. I did not know what I had until I lost it", he explains dejectedly and watches how one of your tears slowly rolls down your cheek. "I am so sorry. I am not worth crying for."
"It is too late for that now", you sob and want to turn away again when he suddenly grabs your face with his hands and pulls you into a gentle kiss that says more that words could ever express. And the worst part of it is that you do not fight against it, you just let it happen. You might even enjoy it a little even though this is definetely not how you imagined your first kiss with him to be.
"I really love you, Y/N. I realized it now", he whispers after he broke the kiss, a small smile on his lips because you did not reject him.
"Tom-", you try to answer, but he stops you by laying his finger on your lips.
"I know what you want to say. I closed the Chamber of Secrets again and finished thinking about becoming a Dark Lord once and for all. Your are much more important to me than that", he tells you and you can cleary hear out the sincerity in his voice.
He is back. Your Tom is finally back.
Happily, you jump around his neck and tightly squeeze him, wettening his cloak, and in the next moment you punch him hard against his chest. Laughing, he takes your hand in his and places a kiss on top of it.
"Now please tell me what you did with your hand and do not lie to me, I warn you", you admonish him while he lets you take his hand to have a closer look at his small injury.
"You wouldn't believe me if I said that I wanted to get you flowers, right? But funny thing is that it is exactly what I tried."
522 notes · View notes
t0wnspersonb · 4 years
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You’re Beautiful (Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader)
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Word Count: 4,784
Warnings: SMUT, slight angst, bullying, my shit writing, Kuroo being too damn hot
Summary: Despite how much you loved him, you couldn’t handle the constant bullying that came with dating one of the most sought after males at your school. The constant harassment from Kuroo’s fans ended with you breaking up with him. But when Kuroo founds out the truth... well he does everything in his power to make sure you’re taken care of.
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Anonymous said:
Hiii 🦊 Rachel here! Could I please request a scenario in which kuroo s/o has been being constantly bullied by kuroo's fangirls during months to the point in which her self confidence is almost crushed but she remain silent and decides to try yo break Up with him?. She appears the Next day at school wearing sexy clothes and make up to make them believe she Split Up with him seriosly. But kuroo notices what's happening and reassures her? Smut ending please if possible!! Thank u so much!! 😊
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Anonymous said:
Can I please request a scenario where Kuroo helps his gf relieve her stress by giving her his full attention and worshipping her? She’s also very insecure. He walks in the room to find her staring at herself in the mirror, lifting her shirt up and looking sad (insecure about her body). No need for angst though! She beams the moment he flirts with her and call her kitten. Soft!dom vibes with lots of dirty talk and praise (and maybe cockwarming?). Thank you 🥺 ily and your blog btw
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I decided to put these two requests together since they both fall into the same category! I hope you enjoy this one Rachel and anon! 
Sorry it took so long for me to write! I think I do a terrible job at writing characters as a dom so I apologize in advance if it wasn’t what you guys were wanting! As always please let me know what you guys think:)
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“- I don’t understand.” Kuroo’s frown deepened, his fingers clenching and unclenching into fists at his side.
 You had an audience, the soft whispers of people passing by curled around your ear like the wind.
 You knew exactly what they were talking about, what they will be talking about for the next couple of weeks.
 “Y/n why are you breaking up with me?” he pressed further, his tall frame taking a step closer to you. 
 “I told you.” Your voice sounds strained, even to your own ears, despite the mental preparation you had to do before.
 Hell, there was no amount of mental preparation that could prepare you for something like this.
 Kuroo’s annoyed and calculating expression shifted dramatically, hurt and confusion clouded his face, his large hand reached out towards you, causing you to take a step back, your arms wrapping around your body.
 You wanted to curl into yourself, to disappear completely so you didn’t have to see Kuroo’s pained expression.
 “That doesn’t… that doesn’t make sense! We were doing great! You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go out with me! So why… why all of a sudden -” 
 “I told you.” You stressed, cutting him off immediately. “I don’t want to be with someone who only focuses on their club activities. You never have time for me, you’re always so busy with your stupid club. I can’t do this anymore.”
 Lies.
 Lies.
 Lies.
 They were all lies.
 But you… you had to make this work, you had to make this hurt, or else… or else you knew he would never leave you alone.
 The whispering around you got louder, the large smirks from the girls amongst the crowd pierced into your heart.
 But not as much as this.
 Kuroo’s expression ripped your heart in two.
 This hurt like hell.
 “Your team is waiting for you Kuroo.” You said quietly, ignoring the ache in your chest as he visibly flinched at the use of his surname, something you never called him. “I’ll see you around.”
 You turned to walk away, resisting the urge to look back at the tall male. You could feel tears stinging at your eyes as you rushed out of the school gates, it was probably a mistake to do this right after class; catching him right before he went into volleyball practice. 
 It honestly was all a mistake but… you didn’t have a choice.
 You were suddenly yanked back, causing you to stumble about.
 “That was quite the show.” a familiar voice drawled out, you flinched as you scrambled away from the group of girls that were staring you down.
 The group of girls that caused this mess.
 “It was smart of you to break up with him. Kuroo-san belongs to all of us, not just you. You ugly girl.” She sneered. “Who would want you anyway? Kuroo-san was just dating you out of pity, I bet he just wanted a quick lay. Since you’re that easy.”
 You could feel your lower lip tremble, the tears that were already gathered in your eyes threatening to spill over. 
 “Well it’s done, just leave me alone now.” You mumbled, walking away. 
 As soon as you were a safe distance away, tears began pouring down your face. 
The flood of emotions you were experiencing was something like no other. The pain that you felt deep within your chest was excruciating, and all you could see behind your lids as you wiped at your eyes was Kuroo’s hurt expression.
 You were lucky enough that your mother wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be home for the next couple of days due to a business trip. 
 Which meant you could cry your heart out in peace.
 No amount of mental preparation prepared you for this. For the hurt that you had caused the person you loved the most, for the hurt that you were experiencing from the constant cruelty of those girls.
 It was all too much. 
 By the time you had finally finished crying it was late at night, and you found yourself in front of your bathroom mirror.
 They were right, you were an ugly girl, why would Kuroo want to be with someone like you? 
 It was always a question that lingered in the back of your mind when Kuroo confessed to you. It was strange wasn’t it? He was quite possibly the most perfect human being you had ever met, so why would he want to be with you?
 “Since you’re that easy.” 
 You shook your head from the comment, Kuroo was your first for everything; memories that you would cherish forever, even if you were no longer with him.
 You at least knew that comment wasn’t true, Kuroo wasn’t a cruel person, there was no way he would have thought of you that way.
 The person you were looking at in the mirror wasn’t someone you recognized. A stranger in your own skin, your eyes flickered to every inch of your insecurities, your body shrinking down.
 You couldn’t go on like this, something had to change.
 ****
 “W-What are you wearing Y/n-chan?” Yaku asked, face flushed, as he took in your uniform.
 You were lucky enough to have arrived at school without any encounters with those girls and Kuroo. But you were unlucky in the fact that you were in the same class as Kuroo and Yaku.
 “D-Does it look bad?” You asked, carefully tugging at the hem of your skirt.
 “No but… you never wear anything that short… I’m just not used to seeing you like that… are you wearing makeup?” Yaku looked at you in surprise, the pink in his cheeks never fading.
 You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, your head ducking down in embarrassment as you nodded.
 This was so uncomfortable; you were completely out of your element right now.
 You had opted for the shorter uniform skirt today, something that was completely different than your usual knee length one. Your legs had never been so exposed at school before.
 The makeup… well, you hardly ever wore makeup, it wasn’t like you were wearing a whole lot of it, but just enough to make you feel just a tad less insecure about yourself.
 “Kuroo is gonna flip when he -” Yaku shut his mouth immediately; eyes casting away from you.
 That’s right.
 He had almost forgotten that you had broken up with him yesterday, and from the slight fall of your face, maybe you had forgotten too.
 “You know… Kuroo was devastated when he came into practice yesterday, he made us do twice as many drills, got upset over the littlest things…” Yaku trailed off, glancing over at you briefly. “We didn’t know what had happened until Lev said something about it. News travels fast around here huh?” he joked weakly.
 “Just news that involves your golden boy.” you said quietly, your eyes trained on your folded hands that rested on your desk.
 Yaku turned his body completely towards you now. “Y/n-chan what happened? Why did you -” the classroom door suddenly opened, and in walked the golden boy himself.
 He looked… exhausted, sad. 
 The tiny piece that you were able to fix in your heart shattered once again, leaving you empty and achy inside.
 This was all your fault. 
 His exhaustion, his sadness, that was all you.
 You could feel his eyes flickering over to your form, but you didn’t dare meet his gaze, you settled for pulling out one of your books from your bag; eyes focused on the page, although, you couldn’t even comprehend what it was you were reading.
 His shadow loomed over you as he paused next to your desk. It was only for a couple of seconds before he sighed loudly, taking his seat behind Yaku.
 Fuck today was going to be a long day.
 ****
 The next couple of days were routine now, Yaku would attempt to make small talk with you, struggling each and every time to ask you what had happened between you and Kuroo, and each time it ended with Kuroo entering the classroom and standing near your desk before sighing loudly and leaving.
 Despite the fact that it was becoming routine, it still wasn’t easy. None of it was, the only easy thing was that those pesky girls in his fan club left you alone, at least you got relief from that.
 Until today. 
 Of course, it would be when you were walking home that they would approach you, no one in sight.
 “You really think that dressing up and wearing makeup is going to make you pretty?” one of them scoffed, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. “You’re still ugly, you did Kuroo-san a favor by dumping him, who would want to be with someone as hideous as you?”
 You gritted your teeth, your hands tightening around the strap of your bag as you attempted to step around them, only for them to get in your way once more. 
 They were cornering you now.
 “I did what you asked, why do you keep bothering me?” you asked quietly, pleading almost.
 “Because you took him away from us all those months ago. Kuroo-san has never and will never be yours. It honestly was such a bitchy thing for you to do Y/n. You really think that by just breaking up with him you would be let off the hook? Wrong.” 
 Your quiet demeanor never faltered; you were desperate to go home though. So you tried stepping around them once again, only to be shoved back into another one of the girls.
 They were laughing at you as they shoved you about, but you didn’t have the strength to fight back, to stand up for yourself.
 You just… you just let it happen.
 You probably deserved it anyway, right? 
 For breaking Kuroo’s heart.
 You deserved all of it, right?
 “Hey!” 
 Everyone froze, yourself included. You knew that voice all too well, and you couldn’t help the tears that began to pool in your eyes.
 Cool fingers clasped at your wrist, carefully yanking you away from the group of girls that were now cowering in front of the tall male that stood before them.
 “Are you okay Y/n?” Kenma peered at you in concern, carefully releasing his grip on you. You nodded, rubbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater.
 “K-Kuroo-san! We were just teaching her a lesson! She hurt you, didn’t she? We were just trying to protect you!” one of the girl’s pleaded.
 You had never seen Kuroo like this. He was genuinely angry, his eyes all but turning into slits as he glared down at the group of girls who were nearly in tears at this point.
 “From what I heard, you guys are the reason that Y/n broke up with me.” he said, tone deep and dark. “From what I saw… well… girls like you absolutely disgust me.” he sneered. 
 “K-Kuroo-san.” one of them began to cry.
 “From now on stay away from me, and stay away from Y/n. If I catch you guys anywhere near her then we’re going to have some problems. Understand?” he stood incredibly tall; his arms folded across his chest as he stared down at the group of girls.
 It was silent for a moment and then whimpers and loud cries began to erupt from the group, all of them running off.
 As soon as they were out of sight Kuroo slumped down, sighing tiredly as his large hand ran down his face, rubbing off whatever emotions he was feeling. But then he was turning to face you, concern clouding his eyes as he walked closer.
 “Are you hurt?” he murmured softly, one of his fingers gently sliding against your cheek, his eyes flickering across your face.
 You shook your head, but you could feel oncoming tears beginning to pool. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into his arms at this point.
 But Kuroo knew you too well, he recognized the look on your face and his hand slid down to grasp yours.
 “Let’s go.” he said. “Kenma I’m going to take Y/n home. Walk home without me.” his eyes glanced over at his friend who nodded, waving goodbye to the two of you before taking his leave.
 For the most part, the trip home was entirely quiet, you two hadn’t addressed anything that had happened at the school, or what had happened in the days prior. It was mostly small talk, but you felt lighter somehow. 
 Kuroo brought the best out of you, he was your better half; his mere presence brought a sense of calm to the raging storm inside of you.
 He also had never let go of your hand.
 Maybe it was because of what happened earlier, or maybe it was an unconsciousness thing, but you were grateful for it.
 His hand was large and warm, his thumb rubbing gently against the back of your hand, it was entirely soothing.
 But now your anxiety was through the roof as you approached your front door, pausing to retrieve the keys from your bag.
 Would he go? 
 Would he want to come in?
 Would he want answers?
 Would you guys get back together?
 “Y/n....” Kuroo stared down at you intensely, his face nothing but serious. “Can we talk?”
 Fuck. Maybe it was all of the above.
 You bit your lip, nodding before you guys stepped into your house.
 “Where’s your mom?” Kuroo asked casually, slipping off his shoes.
 “She’s on a business trip, she’ll be back on Saturday.” you said quietly. Kuroo said nothing back as you guys made your way to your room. Silence engulfing you completely, the air thick with tension.
 “Do you really not want to be with me anymore?” Kuroo asked as soon as you guys got settled in. There was no room for small talk now, he had jumped to the point immediately.
 “Or did you break up with me because of those girls?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your form.
“They’ve been… they’ve been harassing me since we got together, it got really bad recently…” you trailed off, ignoring the dark look that crossed over his face for a moment. 
 “Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice was incredibly soft now, his expression gentle. “I would’ve done something about it.”
 “I don’t know.” you whimpered out, the tears that you had been holding back since school finally spilled over. “They were your fans… you’re so amazing, I didn’t want them to think badly of you. They’re right, you know. Why would someone like you want someone like me? I’m not very pretty or smart, I’m not passionate like you are… they said I was only dragging you down. I didn’t want to hold you back anymore. So, I - I had to break up with you, had to hurt you enough so that you wouldn’t try pursuing me anymore.”
 At this point you were full on sobbing, blabbering your confession. The words just leaked out, there was no point in stopping now, not like you could anyway. 
 “I didn’t mean what I said about the team either. I just said that to hurt your feelings. I love that you’re so dedicated to your team and volleyball, I love how hard you work towards your goals. You’re so good at what you do. I’m so sorry Kuroo. I’m so sorry.” you choked out, another sob tearing through your lips as you desperately tried wiping away the ongoing flow of tears.
 Your eyes were incredibly blurry, your loud crying and hiccups were the only sound that could be heard in the room. You hadn’t even registered that Kuroo had gotten off your bed until you were being yanked into a warm chest. His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, crushing you to his body.
 Warmth seeped into your being, radiated off of his chest and into yours. Your nose was filled with the scent of Kuroo, familiar and perfect as you buried your face deeper into his chest. 
 He caged you against his body, the strong grip he had only tightening further; his large hands rubbed up and down your back, soothing your hysteria until there were only soft hiccups and sniffles.
 You weren’t sure how long Kuroo held you for, but you didn’t care. You never wanted to leave his arms.
 He was solid, so strong and warm; grounding you to this moment. You could only think of him, as he was right now, and as you were right now. Right now, this moment was perfect.
 Right now, you knew that you would never stop loving Kuroo Tetsurou.
 “I wish you would’ve told me about those girls earlier.” he finally spoke, his voice was calm, the movement of his hands never stopping against your back. “At least you’re telling me now. But…” his hands gently pulled you away from his body. His eyes burned as they stared into your own, the intensity of his gaze took your breath away, he had never looked at you like that before. 
 “You’re seriously stupid if you think any of that is true. Not pretty? Not smart? Dragging me down? Holding me back? That’s not true.” He cupped your face carefully, titling your head back slightly, forcing your eyes to only stare at him. 
 “You’re the kindest person I know. You’re so beautiful, you have no idea how many of the guys at our school wanted to go out with you. You’re the top of our class, did you forget that you’re in the college prep class? You’re incredibly smart. You’ve never dragged me down; you’ve never held me back. You make me want to be better, you make me want to work harder. If I don’t have you by my side… then what’s the point to any of it?” his voice was deep and fierce, full of fiery passion as he stared down at you. 
 “Do you love me?” he asked.
 “Of course, I love you, I never stop-” Kuroo slammed his lips against yours, kissing you fiercely and urgently.
 You whimpered loudly, fingers gripping at the front of his uniform tightly as you surrendered yourself to his kiss. 
 Every ounce of his feelings for you were being poured into this kiss, it was searing, burning you completely as he nipped and sucked at your bottom lip, forcing his tongue into your mouth easily.
 It was wet and hot as he massaged the pink muscle in your mouth with his own, and you could only take it, clinging to him desperately as you tried to keep up with his pace.
 You hadn’t even realized that he was taking steps back until your world shifted, Kuroo easily pulling you down onto his lap as he sat on your bed. You held yourself up, knees pressing into the soft mattress on either side of his hips.
 “You’re mine.” he breathed against your mouth, the hand that was resting on your back trailed down towards your exposed legs. His fingers curled around the back of your upper thigh, skimming against the band of the thigh highs that you wore.
 “I can’t believe you started wearing these tiny little skirts to school. I hated the way other guys would look at you whenever you left the classroom… and the makeup? Who were you trying to impress?” he murmured, nipping at your bottom lip before trailing his mouth against the underside of your jaw, and down your throat.
 “I - ahh - I just wanted to…” your fingers slid into his hair; eyes fluttering shut as his tongue flickered out to taste your skin. “Feel good about myself.”
 He pulled away from you, his lips swollen, and pupils blown as he stared at you. “You’re gorgeous, you don’t need to make yourself up like that. I’ll make you feel good.” 
 Kuroo began tugging the clothes off of your guys’ body, easily tossing them to the floor until you were both bare.
 His lips parted as his eyes wandered to every inch of your skin, greedily taking in all of your pretty curves. You were his, he’d never let anyone else have you, he’d never let anyone else see you like this. Sprawled out on top of the bed, face flushed a beautiful pink, your knees bent as your feet sat flat against the sheets, your core entirely exposed to him.
 You were dripping, cunt glistening and begging to be touched.
 “It’s embarrassing.” you whispered, face heating up as you took in the way he stared openly at your exposed lower half. You moved to clamp your legs shut, only for his large hands to grab your knees, ripping them apart easily, exposing you further.
 “What’s so embarrassing about a boyfriend wanting to stare at his beautiful girlfriend?” he asked, eyebrow raising, a small smirk grazed his lips. “I’m going to make you feel so good, kitten.” 
 His face sank lower, the hands that were resting on your knees sliding down until they curled around the back of your upper thighs, pushing them further apart and up. 
His nose brushed against your mound and then you felt his hot breath blowing against your center, causing a loud whimper to escape your lips, your fingers gripping at the sheets below.
 “Thank you for the meal.” he smirked against you, eyes flickering towards you before his mouth enveloped you completely.
 You cried out.
 Kuroo’s mouth was like a furnace as he lapped at your cunt carefully, flattening his tongue against your soaked entrance before flicking it up towards your swollen bundle of nerves.
 The pink muscle easily swirled against your clit, lazy almost, before dipping back into your slit, moving in and out of you perfectly.
 Your chest was heaving at this point, your fingers reaching down to tangle into his already messy hair, urging him closer.
 His grip on your thighs tightened, his tongue moving against you faster as he felt you drip onto his tongue.
 “Tetsurou.” you whimpered. “I’m close, so close.” you slurred, the familiar tightness within your belly coiling rapidly.
 Kuroo pulled himself away immediately, a loud whine tearing through your lips.
 “N-No! Why did you stop?” You cried out, the tightness residing immediately, the dull ache of your cunt begging for more attention, for release.
 Kuroo stood above you, a devilish grin stretching across his face as you whined pitifully at him. One of the hands that was gripping your thigh suddenly came down, swatting at your swollen cunt with a sharp sting.
 You cried out in surprise as your body jolted with pleasure. His fingers gently running up and down your soaked folds, pressing down gently against your bundle of nerves.
 “I know I said I would make you feel good, but… there needs to be some kind of punishment too. Since you tried breaking up with me, and you kept secrets from me.” he chuckled, his eyes held nothing but warmth though, filled to the brim with love and lust. 
Suddenly Kuroo was hauling you up, easily pulling you back onto his lap, you could feel his hard member rubbing against the curve of your ass and then he was shifting you up once more and - another loud cry tore through your lips as he sheathed himself inside of you completely.
 The stretch burned as you struggled to accommodate his size, you would never get to this stretch, to him being buried deep inside of you.
 He hushed you tenderly, his lips pressing gently against your temple. His breath came out in hot, wet pants against the side of your neck.
 “Look at you.” he breathed, his eyes focused on the mirror that was propped against your wall, facing your bed. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. Look at how well you take my cock kitten.” 
 Your eyes were screwed closed as you struggled to adjust to the new intrusion in your body. When you finally opened your eyes a loud mewl tore through your swollen lips.
 Kuroo had your back pressed tightly against his chest, your legs hung over the side of his muscular thighs, his thick member buried deep in your cunt.
 The scene before you was incredibly lewd. The way your pussy lips were stretched around his thick cock was on full display, your bare body covered in sweat and flushed red. The dazed look on your face and the tears gathering in your eyes; it was too much.
 Kuroo had his chin resting against your shoulder, his eyes never leaving the mirror as he took in every inch of you.
 “S-So embarrassing.” You whined again, attempting to turn your face away so you no longer had to stare at yourself in the mirror.
 Kuroo wasn’t having any of that, his strong fingers gripped your chin easily, forcing your head back towards the front. 
 “Don’t look away.” he commanded into the shell of your ear. “I want you to watch.” he began moving, his hips bucking up, sliding in and out of your velvety walls. “I want you to see how absolutely perfect you are. I want you to see how well you take my cock, I want you to see yourself cum. I want you to see how good I make you feel.”
 Your lips were parted, moans spilling out of your mouth as you watched the way your breasts moved with each hard thrust of his hips, the way your cunt stretched around his swollen member that continuously disappeared inside of your body.
 “You make the sweetest faces. Fuck look at how wet you are for me kitten.” Kuroo groaned lowly into your ear, his tongue flickering out against the skin. His eyes never left your form, cat-like and dangerous as you took what he gave you.
 “Do you hear that?” he murmured lowly. “Fuck you’re so soaked for me.” over the rustling of sheets and your moans the soft squelching noises of your soaked cunt could be heard.
 “Should I make you cum?” he breathed, his hand reaching down, his fingers brushing against your parted folds that were stretched tightly around his cock. His eyes were glued to the obscene image before him, memorized with the way you engulfed him completely. 
 “Please.” you sobbed, overstimulated tears now rolling down your cheeks. “Tetsu, please.” 
 He moaned softly, fingers reaching up to rub at your clit. 
 It didn’t take long before you began unraveling, from the quick swipes of his fingers against your bundle of nerves, from the way that his member filled you to the brim, reaching a devastating depth within you, it was no wonder you were reaching your end so quickly.
 You watched as your cunt gushed around him, trickling down his balls and staining the sheets below.
 “Fuck.” he hissed, teeth sinking into your bare shoulder as you convulsed against him. You were panting, crying at the rush of pleasure still coursing through your body.
 Kuroo stayed buried inside of you, waiting for you to catch your breath, your walls fluttering around him. He wouldn’t last long. But he needed you to cum again.
 “Give me another one kitten, I know you can do it.” he cooed, and then his hips started jack hammering into your core, hard and fast as his fingers worked against your clit once again.
 It was too much, overstimulating, sharp and biting, and you took it all. 
You sobbed loudly as your end approached, faster this time, but far more devastating. Especially when you felt his release, Kuroo painted your insides a beautiful white as he spilled himself deep within your core.
 You could feel your ears ringing, vaguely registering his gentle praises as he stretched you across the bed, sliding out of your puffy and swollen cunt carefully. You could feel his warmth seeping out, trailing down the length of your legs, but you were far too exhausted to care, to clean up.
 He pulled the sheets over your body pulling you against his sweaty chest, his strong fingers brushing away the hair that clung to the sides of your face.
 “I love you.” he breathed, a gentle smile covering his lips as he gazed down at you. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
 You sighed softly, a sweet smile grazing your lips as you stared back at him. “I love you Tetsu. I don’t ever want to be without you again.” you nuzzled your face into his chest, his arms wrapping around your body tightly.
 “I didn’t spend all that time convincing you to go out with me for you to leave so quickly. You’re stuck with me, and my stupid club.” he grinned at you.
 “That’s okay. I really missed spending time with Kenma.”
 “Oi.”
975 notes · View notes
rheawritessometimes · 3 years
Text
In Bloom
{ Xiao x GN!Gardener!Reader }
{ Summary } Looking for flowers is more dangerous than it seems.
{ Warnings } Violence, Injury, Mention of Death, Not Even Proofread.
{ Notes } Reader runs on dumb luck and also is kind of like an ecologist or something. Reader is a bit of an airhead. This is probably the most serious fic I've written, with no jokes or additions stricken out. But yeah I just typed this out and didn't even read it over, so if it's bad... Just know this is just a little something while I work on longer garbage. Masterlist
{ Word Count } 2,112
Appealing to the Vigilant Yaksha was an easy, one could even say effortless, thing for you. You hadn't taken the almond tofu route as others before you had, instead, you left him some Qingxin flowers. These flowers did not come from the peaks of Huaguong Stone Forest nor the Mingyun Village, rather they were among the finest specimens you had grown in your garden. The translucent white petals were soft like velvet and entirely free from blemish.
Your small gift to the adeptus wasn't exactly intentional. In truth, you had left the flowers on the balcony of Wangshu Inn entirely by accident and when you returned to retrieve them they were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a pale man with dark hair leaning over the balcony. When you halted your approach, he turned his head towards you, indicating he had heard your footsteps.
Striking golden eyes seemed to gaze straight through you, sending a chill down your spine. His expression was entirely neutral, you couldn't get even a hint as to what he was thinking. Nothing about his outward appearance screamed danger, but the ominous aura you sensed made you take a step back.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you," you squeaked out, sounding a lot less confident than you had intended. You take a step backward, but couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes from him.
"Don't apologize. You're welcome to stay," he replied after a few beats of silence, his tone sounding strained for a reason you couldn't discern.
"Um, okay, thank you," you replied politely, feeling it would be too awkward to leave now. It felt to you as though you were now trapped here for a little while out of social obligation. You stepped out towards the railing, deciding to at least enjoy the view if you had to stay.
The man didn't look at you, but you couldn't help but take in his appearance. He was objectively good-looking with bright amber eyes, dark hair with teal highlights, and his stoic expression. His clothing wasn't outlandish, but it's not the type you would commonly see on the streets of Liyue.
It took a while for the dark mask resting against the man's hip to catch your attention, but once it did you felt like a fool. It was not common knowledge, however, the fact an adeptus resided at the Wangshu Inn was not exactly a secret. One which you were privy to. The mask was the most obvious indication of his status as an adeptus. Not just any adeptus, not that any of them were anything to look down upon, but one of the Yakshas. The last of the five Yakshas.
"Alatus," the name escapes your lips as a whisper before you can think to stop it. Immediately your eyes widen, but before you could issue an apology the man just sighs softly. It doesn't sound particularly angered, but rather weary.
"Xiao. My name is Xiao," he says without turning to look at you. That's all he says before vanishing in a cloud of black mist and falling feathers of anemo energy. The mist and feathers are both quick to dissipate, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open.
After that encounter, it had become a regular occurrence, at least once weekly, for you to pick one of the finest flowers from your garden and bring it to Wangshu Inn to leave on the balcony, or give directly to Xiao should he show himself. Most often you brought him a Qingxin, but occasionally you would substitute other flowers as not to end up plucking every Qingxin you had grown. You never picked the very best flower, either. Even for an adeptus you couldn't bring yourself to pick the best examples, rather letting them grow in peace for your prolonged enjoyment.
It wasn't until the third time you had come to the inn with a flower for Xiao that he was waiting for you on the balcony. Seeing the yaksha there made you pause, heart skipping a beat in surprise. He turned from his place looking out across the landscape to see you, certainly not as surprised to see you as you were him.
The way he looked expectantly at the flower in your hand has you realizing you had been standing there frozen. You moved, extending the flower out to him in offering. He took it delicately from your hand, looking it over for a moment.
"Thank you," he said softly, so quiet you almost didn't hear it at all. You could only nod stiffly in response. He scoffed at you before turning around again to lean against the balcony railing.
Just as it had the first time you met the yaksha, it felt wrong to just leave. So, you decided to survey the landscape of Liyue with him in silence. After the first few minutes, the atmosphere became rather comfortable between the two of you. Still, by the time he disappeared in a cloud of black mist and anemo feathers, neither of you had spoken a word.
This morning you were out early in the morning to explore the wilds of Liyue. You were no adventurer, though. Your purpose was to analyze the populations of certain flora and fauna. These were trips you made often to various parts of Liyue, wishing to preserve the life of endangered species, and always alone. Bringing people along to the locations of such rare organisms, be it plant or animal, was a dangerous thing. In many instances, rare means valuable and there are those who would do anything for some Mora.
Today you found yourself in Dihua Marsh to check up on the Glaze Lily population. Based on your counts, the number hadn't fluctuated greatly since your last visit, there were even a few new blooms. This brought you great relief, Glaze Lilies seemed to be somewhat of a symbol of Liyue and it would sadden you to see their wild population disappear, even if they remained in Qingce Village and at the Yujing Terrace. It wouldn't be the same.
Once you had sung a few songs to the flowers, not worried about anyone hearing you in this rather secluded area, you made your way back to one of the main roads. The long walks back to the harbor always ended up with you lost deep in thought, which wasn't always a good thing. Lost deep in your own mind, you didn't notice the slow advance of a small group of Treasure Hoarders until it was too late.
There was no time to run away as they surrounded you, it was unlikely you could have outrun them anyways. Fortunately, it didn't take very long for the Treasure Hoarders to discover you had absolutely nothing of value on you, and while they may be thieves it wasn't often a Treasure Hoarder was a murderer. Of course, they had roughed you up a bit before ultimately leaving you alone. There was a nasty scrape on your cheek and you were sure you would be bruised in the morning, but you weren't seriously injured.
By the next day, your muscles ached and bruises had appeared in various places on your body, but the scrapes had stopped bleeding and it was nothing that would stop you from bringing your usual offering to Xiao. You spent some time perusing your garden, looking for the perfect gift. You settled on a Silk Flower, there was some worry in your mind that Xiao would dislike it because they did grow right outside of the Wangshu Inn, but you hope the exceptional fragrance and color of this specimen would gain his appreciation.
Mindful not to fiddle with the flower as to preserve its pristine state, you worried the whole walk to the inn. Even if the adeptus wasn't present, if he rejected the offering you felt you would know. Maybe you would find the flower sitting where you left it on your next visit, or maybe Verr Goldet would tell you about the silk flower she found laying on the balcony. Your heart clenched at the thought and you couldn't help but wonder when you had started seeking the yaksha's approval.
You hadn't even realized you arrived at the inn until you were stepping off the elevator, lost in thought again. Shaking your head, you thought it would be good if you started paying more attention. Getting ambushed by again was the last thing you wanted, the next time it could be worse than petty thieves.
Pushing the negative thoughts from your mind, you climbed the stairs to the balcony you so often visited. Your muscles ached in quiet protest, but the pain was mild. Peeking over the stairs, you spotted Xiao.
For the first time, he was already facing you, leaning with his back against the railing. You wondered if he had spotted you on your way to the Inn, offering him a polite smile as a silent greeting. You extended the Silk Flower to him once you stepped out onto the balcony.
"What happened to you?" Xiao asked immediately, tone stern. He took the flower from you without even sparing a glance down at it. Did he not like Silk Flowers?
"Oh, um, I just bumped into some Treasure Hoarders yesterday. Nothing serious," you answered after finally processing his question, bringing your hand up to the scrape on your cheek without thinking. His frown deepened with your response and the adeptus crossed his arms over your chest.
"You were hurt," he pointed out bluntly. You felt small under his hard stare.
"Oh, it's nothing, um, serious," you assured him with a nervous laugh. He only furrowed his brows at your response.
"If ever again you find yourself in any danger, call my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be there when you call."
At his words, your cheeks heated up. Was this some sort of special treatment, or did he offer this to anyone? It felt wrong to receive such kindness from an adeptus if it was only for you.
"Promise," he pressed when you didn't answer.
"Okay, I will. If I'm ever in danger, I'll call you," you agreed meekly, feeling a great weight put upon you under his amber gaze. He huffed before disappearing in his usual manner, and it was impossible for you to tell if he was upset with you.
The next time you visited the inn, Xiao hadn't appeared. This wasn't unusual, but the worry that you had displeased him seeped into your bones. You tried to ignore this feeling, going out often to check on wildlife populations and spending extra time tending to your garden. Keeping busy was the best way to take your mind off your worries and stay productive.
A week after your meeting with the Vigilant Yaksha, you were back at Dihua Marsh checking on the Glaze Lilies. You were sitting in the middle of the lilies, singing softly to the patch of flowers when the sound of shouting reached your ears. Looking up, you noticed two hilichurls accompanied by a mitachurl with a stone shield who was charging your way.
There would be no time for you to get up and out of the way, so you closed your eyes and braced for the impact. You could only pray it wouldn't kill you, but even if it didn't you would probably be unable to escape death by the hilichurls soon after.
The impact never came, instead, a gust of wind blew past you and you wondered if the mitachurl had somehow run past you. When you opened your eyes, you saw Glaze Lily petals swirl into the air, dancing around the familiar figure of the Vigilant Yaksha. The mitachurl was already crumbling to dust, returning to the Abyss with it's hilichurl companions.
Xiao turned to face you, mask dematerializing from his face and reappearing at his hip. When he extended his hand down to help you get up, you furrowed your brows wondering why he had been here. Was it incredible luck, or had he perhaps been following you?
Taking his hand, you let him pull you up onto shaky legs. He didn't let go, looking a little worried you'd fall. You finally looked up to his face, scanning golden eyes.
"Why are you here?" you finally asked, throat feeling a bit scratchy.
"I told you I would be there when you called."
His words only confused you further until it dawned on you, the scratchy feeling in your throat was awfully similar to that which came with yelling. Had you truly called his name without even thinking, without even realizing?
"Thank you, Xiao."
172 notes · View notes
vvideonasties · 3 years
Text
clear-cut
"Good morning," Jon says.
"Um," Martin replies.
Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance. 
word count: 2k
pairing: jonmartin
warnings: discussion of canon related trauma, thoughts about body autonomy
While rifling through the kitchen drawers, Jon is unsurprised by the plethora of blades Daisy owns. There’s every kind of knife you could fathom and, thankfully, a few pairs of scissors. Grabbing what appears to be the sharpest pair (though they all look pretty damn sharp), he heads to the bathroom. He clutches the white of the porcelain sink and stares into the mirror impassively. 
He used to actually quite like his long hair. He’d play with it while he was working, twirling the thick locks around his fingers and untangling knots absentmindedly. When he’d get frustrated he’d pull it out of its tie and tug at it. It was a strange way to ground himself. 
Now, though. It’s been used too much for other people’s gain, has been in too many people’s hands for it to truly belong to him. The gravity it provided began to dissipate when Daisy attacked him - she’d grabbed a chunk of it and used it to yank back his head to expose the vulnerable expanse of his neck. As he’d stood there under the mercy of her blade, shaking and pleading, the stinging in his scalp lingered the entire time. It only got worse from there - the awful attempt at tenderness displayed by the Stranger as Nikola brushed aside a few strands to gain access to more flesh, to paste moisturiser onto it with her stiff fingers. The dirt he couldn’t quite scrub out of it after he left the Buried, even when he sat in the tub for hours on end. Even when the water began to run clear, he could still feel the clumps weighing him down, making his head loll to the side with it.
After all that, it wasn’t much to him. He’d wash it, dry it, tie it up. Try not to think of it. 
Jon stares down at the gleaming scissors in the sink determinedly. Cutting it off won’t solve much, if anything at all, but it would make him feel a little more comfortable. It’s one of the only things he can control about himself at the moment. If he doesn’t like the way it looks, then fine. It’ll grow back. 
His hand flexes and clenches into a fist. Tighten, relax, tighten, relax. 
He reaches for the scissors and holds a piece of hair in front of his face, the blades open, hungry, ready to receive. 
Then there comes a short, polite cough. He turns to see Martin standing just outside the bathroom, eyes a little wider than normal. 
"Good morning," Jon says.
"Um," Martin replies.
Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance. 
“I’m cutting my hair,” he clarifies, and Martin seems to relax at that. 
“Okay.” A pause. “Why?”
He puts down the scissors and shrugs, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 
“Just felt like it,” he says, which is kind of true. “Not particularly attached to it anymore.”
Martin hums, taking him at his word. He walks over on socked feet, close enough that Jon can feel the heat radiating from him. There’s a brief moment where his hands pass over the scissors.
“I could help?”
Jon turns to face him completely, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, it’s just that I have experience? Kind of? I cut my own, and I used to cut my mum’s as well...” Martin’s mouth twists downwards at that, and Jon just frowns harder. “I won’t give you my mum’s style, I promise!” He jokes weakly. It falls flat, and the whole atmosphere feels stilted. 
“Okay. Why not.”
“...Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your whole-”
“It’s fine. I could use some help reaching the back anyway.” As much as he just wants to lop all of it off, he doesn’t want it to look messy. 
Martin seems to brighten, probably at the relief of having something to focus on, and he walks off to grab a chair from the small dining table as Jon hovers awkwardly. He positions it in the living room, close to the small TV they’ve been using sporadically. They’ve been steadily working their way through the small cabinet full of DVDs underneath it. However, Jon isn’t exactly sure how long they’re going to be staying, so they might have to...ration them. The week they’ve been here hasn’t exactly been the most vibrant when it comes to entertainment. Maybe one day they’ll relent and open up the dusty box of Monopoly. That could very well be a major test of their relationship, though. 
At least, Jon thinks this is a relationship. They haven’t talked about it all that much. All that mattered in the beginning was escaping the Lonely, leaving London, then getting settled here. They’re fumbling around blindly in the dark, and all Jon knows is he wants to hold onto Martin as tightly as possible. 
That little train of thought is interrupted by the small clink of Martin taking the scissors off of the sink and grabbing a towel from the rack. He gestures to the chair, inviting Jon to sit, and when he does so he feels the towel being gently wrapped around his shoulders. 
There’s the brief sensation of Jon’s hair being pulled at, only slightly, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
“Okay?” Martin whispers. He understands without knowing, somehow, and Jon is glad that he can’t see the way his face is taut with apprehension, tinged with pain. 
“Okay,” he whispers back, trying to emulate Martin’s tone. 
“Can I use your tie?” His voice is still soft, and Jon should feel patronised, but he mostly feels soothed. “Just so it’s easier to cut through.”
Jon wordlessly removes the tie from his wrist and hands it over. He tries to hide the little shiver that passes over him when their fingers brush. Martin begins to hum a tune as he gathers the hair up into one handful (not like they did, he would never, it’s Martin, always so good to him), then creates a loose ponytail that falls to his shoulders. 
“Fine so far?” Jon nods tentatively. “Alright then.” 
There’s the distinct sound of the blades opening, and in one fluid motion Jon feels the weight he’d been carrying leave him. 
“There.” Martin comes into view, holding the thick, dark ponytail aloft, smiling crookedly. 
“Oh,” he croaks. “That’s...a lot.” His hand comes up to brush his the side of his head, then travels down and grasps at thin air where hair was a second ago. The cut seems to stop at his jaw, the small strands remaining ghosting over his skin. 
“It is. Can I keep going?”
Jon, hand still close to his head, makes a noise of assent. Martin takes a second to throw away what’s been cut then returns. He sinks his hands into Jon's scalp, massaging the tension out of it, and Jon makes an unbidden noise of satisfaction that causes his motions to still.
"God, sorry, did I hurt-"
"No! No, it's okay. It felt nice." It felt really nice. 
Martin clicks his tongue and continues for a while longer, fingers digging into Jon’s scalp over and over in a wonderful, rhythmic motion until Jon is practically boneless and falling asleep in the chair. He wonders if there’s a not-weird way to ask for this again outside of a hair cutting context. 
“So how short are we going here? You kind of have a bob right now,” Martin laughs. 
Jon hadn’t really thought about that. He just wanted it off, away, binned and out of his face. He shrugs. “I don’t know, short? Whatever you think will suit me.”
“Any hairstyle would suit you,” Martin points out, like it’s nothing. Jon smiles. “But I’ll do my best.” 
A few moments of Martin muttering to himself and circling around the chair is followed by the coolness of the dual blades against the curve of Jon’s ear, the shhk of them pressing together giving him goosebumps. He clearly has done this many times before, given the confident way he navigates the scissors. Jon certainly couldn’t have done this alone, at least not without making a fool out of himself. Martin brushes some hair away from the nape of his neck. His hands are very warm. 
“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with short hair.”
Jon turns to him, puzzled. “Really?”
The thing with Jon is, when he cares about someone a lot, he tends to insert them in all of his memories, assuming that they’ve always been around (he also has the memory of a goldfish, but he’s sure that’s a whole other thing). Martin has become such an integral part of his life, standing neatly by his side like it’s nothing. Like he was meant to be there and always has. 
“It has been quite a few years now, I suppose. Last I remember it was this short I was still in research.” When he goes to touch his head again he notes that he can feel for his ears without having to move a mountain of hair aside.
“Better late than never, I guess! I’m gonna move to the front now.”
Martin has to position himself at an awkward angle to use the scissors properly, his back practically curved into a C shape. His gaze is focused and intense, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Hair falls on Jon’s face as he snips, making him wrinkle his nose and grimace.
“Sorry. You can wash it off soon.”
Jon nods minutely. Then he sneezes. Martin just smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, then continues. 
He remembers why he rarely went to get a professional haircut now. That strange intimacy that comes with someone being so close to you - a stranger - it always disturbed him. The idle chatter that made him grit his teeth, how they’d act like they knew him. Then he didn’t have the time or energy to cut it himself after...everything. 
Now he’s looking at Martin, though. It’s odd, yes. Intimate? Definitely. He doesn’t know whether to close his eyes or keep them open. But he’s always found it very hard to turn his gaze away from Martin regardless.
His eyes are a lovely shade of deep blue, and he has far too many scars alongside the smattering of freckles on his face. He looks tired. Very much so. There’s crows feet at the corners of his eyes and lines on his forehead. He notes absently that he actually has a thick beard, too. Of course he noticed it beforehand - he’s felt it scratching the back of his neck when he wakes in the morning with Martin’s arms around him - but it’s worth pointing out. It makes him look much older, especially since the grey in it seems to be overtaking the red. 
Martin stands up straight and runs his hands through Jon’s hair a few times before standing back, head tilted to the side. 
“I think we’re done. It’s not amazing, but.”
Jon is already shrugging off the towel and heading to the bathroom mirror, feeling weirdly nervous. 
He certainly looks different. Unfortunately, though he searched high and low for them, Daisy doesn’t own any clippers. Martin did the best he could with what he had - he’s kept it a bit longer towards the front, some strands grazing his forehead, but the rest is cropped closely to his scalp. Jon tentatively touches it and leans forward. He tries to grasp a chunk of it, see if it’s long enough to pull. He fails. 
“It’s perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Jon says firmly. “It’s just what I needed.” He walks back over to Martin and wraps his arms around him instinctively, sighing with contentment when he responds in kind. 
“Thank you,” he mumbles into Martin’s t-shirt. 
“Of course.” Martin is stroking the back of his neck gently. “You look very handsome.”
Jon’s face burns at the compliment, and he chooses to hide it further rather than reply. They stand there for a while, hair scattered around the floor like autumn leaves, and it feels like a new beginning. 
215 notes · View notes
So, I know you made a post about Martyn's comment about Grian having Stockholm Syndrome, but I feel like there's a lot of angst potential. Maybe something about Martyn and Skizzle trying to convince Grian to join them, but Grian refusing to even leave Scar's side of they kill him.
i feel like this one kinda accidentally became Grian’s villain origin story but ngl i’m not complaining
Martyn and Skizz are walking together through the forest, on their way to the desert to do some surveillance. They’re just walking up the hill near the edge of the forest when a random thought occurs to the latter. “Hey, what’s that thing where you, like, get close to your captor?”
“Huh? Oh, uh… Stockholm Syndrome, isn’t it?” Martyn responds.
“Yeah, that’s it. Stockholm Syndrome.”
“What made you think of it?”
Skizz shrugs. “I dunno, I was just thinking about Grian and why he doesn’t seem to be eager to leave Scar anymore.”
Martyn shoots him a sideways look. “You think he’s got Stockholm Syndrome? Huh. Honestly, I think you might have something there. I’ve known Grian for a long time and I know for a fact that hates people telling him what to do.”
“I really wanna save him, dude,” Skizz says. “I hate the idea of him having to slave away under Scar for even another day.”
“I do too,” agrees Martyn. “But I don’t think we can-.”
“My ears are burning,” comes a familiar voice.
The two look sharply up to find Grian himself sitting on a high branch in the tree directly in front of them, right at the top of the hill.
“Eavesdropping again?” Martyn demands. “How much did you hear?”
“Just something about slaving away under Scar. That’s how I knew you were talking about me. Not nice to talk about someone behind their back.”
Skizz and Martyn both frown. There’s something different about Grian today; he’s not his usual self. It’s worrying particularly to Martyn, who’s known him for a very long time.
“Grian, we need to talk to you,” says Martyn. “About Scar.”
“Uh huh.” Grian hops down from the tree and dusts off his hands. “You’re not gonna kill me, are you? Oh, no, wait: neither of you can. Martyn cuz you’re green and Skizz because you’re spineless.”
Skizz blanches. “Wh-What the hell?! That came out of left field!”
Martyn steps towards Grian, carefully making eye contact with his old friend. “Grian, this isn’t you. Scar’s red life energy is corrupting you, turning into something you’re not. It’s not healthy.”
“Healthy?” Grian tips his head on one side. “Huh. That’s one way of looking at it.”
Martyn pushes on: “We can help you leave him. Either we can take your first life or we can help you escape him.”
“We can keep you safe,” Skizz adds, pushing aside his hurt feelings over Grian’s prior comment. “If you’re worried about what he might do to you.”
“You think I wanna LEAVE?” Grian scoffs.
Martyn and Skizz exchange a look. “What do you mean?” asks the former slowly.
“Scar is my excuse to kill people,” Grian responds. “That goes away if I leave him.”
“Yeah, you’ve already killed at least five people, including me,” Skizz responds. “Are you really sure you wanna keep going?”
A grin slowly appears on Grian’s face as he grabs a block of TNT and lights it. “Let’s find out.”
“Skizz, move!” Martyn yells in a panic.
The two simultaneously spin round and take off running but the TNT quickly explodes behind them, the force sending them both tumbling off the top of the hill.
Martyn groans as he pushes himself up, his whole body aching from the rough landing. His left ankle, which he felt himself land heavily on, throbs. He glances warily around him and finds Skizz lying on his side a few blocks to his left, unconscious.
As Martyn crawls over to him to check on him, he spots a figure emerging from the trees. His breath catches in his throat as he registers Grian slowly and dangerously coming towards them, a flint and steel clearly in his hand.
“Grian, get away,” Martyn snaps, unable to hide the fearful shake in his voice. He moves awkwardly in front of Skizz, protecting him from Grian. “Get away from us.”
“Killing Skizzle will be delicious,” says Grian, grinning maliciously. “His last life. I wonder what it’ll feel like to take a red life? To know that the person I’ve killed will not respawn?”
“Don’t you dare!” growls Martyn. “Kill me if you want but don’t hurt him.”
“Martyn, Martyn, Martyn…” Grian shakes his head in mock disappointment. “You keep doing this. Every time you swear you don’t care about people, every time you swear you won’t get attached to anyone else, you do. Would you really sacrifice one of your lives for him, Martyn? Someone you’ve only known a few weeks?”
“Skizz has proven himself a generous and loyal ally,” Martyn replies steadily. “He’s shown himself to be perfectly willing to sacrifice his last life for us so I’m willing to sacrifice my first for him.”
Grian shrugs. “Okay, that can be arranged.”
As he steps closer, Martyn pushes himself to his feet, holding his left foot gingerly off the ground. “Please, Grian, don’t. You don’t have to let yourself get corrupted by Scar any longer.”
“Corrupted?” snorts Grian. “That’s cute.”
“Seriously, you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. You don’t-.”
Grian laughs loudly, interrupting Martyn. “Stockholm Syndrome?! You really don’t get it, do you, Martyn? Scar is useless on his own. You think he would’ve been able to do HALF the damage I’ve done? If it weren’t for me, he’d have lost his red life about half an hour after his second. I’m the one keeping him alive; not because I care about him but because he’s my excuse to kill people as a green lifer. I have the highest body count on the whole server and I’m still green. Martyn…”
He moves closer to Martyn and grips his shoulder almost painfully, a terrifying smile on his face. “I’m the mastermind. Scar thinks he’s in charge and that’s what ties this whole arrangement together so neatly. Everyone focuses on Scar because he’s the red lifer and oh poor innocent Grian is stuck doing everything he says. Nobody EVER suspects that I’m anything more than just Scar’s puppet.”
“He’s yours,” says Martyn quietly. “Isn’t he? He’s just your puppet.”
“He is. But I can tell you’re trying to stall. Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.” Grian takes hold of Martyn’s other shoulder, trapping him on the spot. “But I don’t want to kill my old friend, no matter how much you beg me. Not yet, anyway.”
Before Martyn can react, Grian shoves him roughly aside. His ankle rolls again as he hits the ground, causing more pain to explode up his leg. “No!” he yells, as he spots Grian advancing on a semi-conscious Skizz. “Grian, don’t!”
Skizz tries to get away from Grian but the green lifer draws his sword and presses the point against his chest, forcing him to stay still. He stares into Grian’s eyes and sees nothing but evil in them. “Grian, please…! Please, don’t!”
“It’s either you or Martyn,” responds Grian. “You pick.”
Skizz meets Martyn’s gaze, and Martyn knows immediately what he’s going to say.
“O-Okay,” Skizz whispers, tipping his head back in defeat. “Kill me and leave Martyn alone.”
“NO!”
But as Grian raises his sword, a battle cry echoes through the trees and seconds later, three figures burst out of the forest: Ren, BigB, and Etho.
Grian scrambles back in shock as they charge towards him, before turning and fleeing back into the trees. BigB and Etho pursue him but Ren stays behind to drop down at Martyn’s side. “Thank god we got here in time! Are you two okay?”
“Apart from my ankle, I’m fine,” says Martyn, letting out a sigh of relief. “Skizz?”
“I-I think I’m okay,” Skizz responds, pressing his hand against his forehead. “But my head hurts.”
Martyn frowns sympathetically. “You were out for several minutes so you probably have a concussion.”
“Let’s get you two back to Dogwarts to rest,” says Ren kindly.
But just as Ren moves to help Martyn up, a notification flashes up on their communicators.
Bigbst4tz2 was slain by Grian
Ren lets out a low growl. “That’s it. Those filthy desert hippies have gone too far.”
“No, Ren,” Martyn says. “It’s not them; it’s just Grian. He’s the one who orchestrated all this. If you hadn’t turned up, he’d have killed both of us. He’s the real threat, not Scar. Not even Scott and Jimmy. They all do what Grian says; he’s got them all in his pocket. He’s…” He pauses, recalling Grian’s words with a shiver. “He’s the mastermind.”
Ren gazes at him for a moment. “Okay, it seems we have some things to discuss when we get back to Dogwarts. But for now, I need you two to head home while I help Etho and BigB.”
“Yes, boss,” says Martyn. “But I-I may need some help; I’m not sure if I can walk at the moment.”
Skizz sluggishly stands up and makes his way over to Martyn, whom he helps to his feet. He then lifts Martyn’s arm over his shoulder, supporting him. “I got you, buddy,” he says gently. “I got you.”
Martyn lets out another quiet sigh. He still can’t believe he and his friend are both alive and relatively unharmed, but he’s unspeakably grateful for it nonetheless.
“Thank you.”
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