#BUT . as a result too nice to toss around carelessly

[baalzebufo]

here they are hanging out with their more expensive and talented cousins :)

[ggidolsmuts]

Dressed for "Success" - Ryu Sujeong

"Ah the sun's so nice! Oppa hurry up!" Sujeong takes your suitcase and pushes you out. "Just drop the stuff and go reserve a good spot!"

"S-Sujeong, I need to get the towels and my book!"

"Here!" Sujeong tosses you your book carelessly, and thankfully it lands securely in your hands. "I'll bring the towels, go go go, I just need to change!"

With an exasperated breath you leave her to it, going back to the hotel elevator. What was supposed to be a relaxed arrival in the morning became a delayed arrival in the afternoon, cutting short your weekend trip to the beaches. This resulted in Sujeong rushing you the whole way here—she wanted to get some sun in before the day was out. This weekend is luckily not too crowded, and you secure a spot not too far from the hotel. You trap your book between your arm and body as you lug a large beach umbrella over to the empty beach chair you had set your sights on.

"Argh!" Sitting down on the chair immediately was a regrettable choice, and the heat stings your skin as you jump up. You leave it be for a while, and now under the shade of the umbrella the chair gradually cools to an acceptable level.

"Oppa!" Sujeong comes running over a little later, dressed in a simple top and shorts, carrying a towel in her arms. "Nice you got us a good spot!"

"Mmhmm, its kinda hot though."

"Good thing I brought these then!" Sujeong brandishes the handheld electric fan in front of you, and you woop with joy.

"Nice! You're the best!" you sit back down on the chair, trying to angle the fan just right so that you could still read the book with both hands and not have to hold the fan up.

"Hey, shouldn't you help me with the sunscreen then?" Sujeong lies teasingly on the beach towel, running a foot over her other leg. You kneel in front of her and look left and right. With no one in sight, you lift a leg and kiss it up and down, brushing sand from her foot before kissing it. Gently she pushes you away, handing you the sunscreen. "Your kisses don't block UV rays, sadly. Sunscreen please?" Her legs felt extra creamy as you rubbed the lotion up and down her calves and lower legs before moving past her knee. You knead her toned thighs slowly, eventually drifting under her shorts. You pull your hands out to apply more lotion, and Sujeong hums in delight when you rub it in more firmly.

"I think that's enough oppa." She scoots away from you as your fingers tease underneath her bikini bottom. "You should do my back." You expected her to take off her t-shirt, but to your surprise most of the back is cut out, leaving only two thin straps.

"Sujeong! What is this top? Isn't it too revealing?"

"It's fine, I'll be wearing a cardigan most of the time."

"What about the straps, you'll get tanlines?"

"You're the only one who'll see it anyways," Sujeong dismisses you offhandedly. "Now come on!" She lies flat on the beach towel, resting her head on her hands. You gather more lotion before rubbing it all over her exposed back. Sujeong sighs in relief as your hands work her over, relaxing her with the impromptu massage. She becomes one with the towel, seeming to sink deeper into the sand. You kiss the back of her neck, and your fingers go to her dimples of Venus—familiar gripping points for a different kind of massage.

"Oppa!" Sujeong shoots you a warning look, but you push your luck a little further, your thumbs pushing her shorts down a little, dipping beneath her bottoms— Sujeong turns around to face you. You back away, expecting her to be mad, but Sujeong is blushing pink. She leans in to peck your cheek before whispering, "Please let me have a good tan? If you can wait till tonight I have something special planned for us."

"Is it something special in a good sense, not some random night tour?" You still remember the bug bites from the night tour she booked for the two of you last trip.

"Mmhmm, it'll be good for us." Her hand brushes your crotch for the briefest of moments—it was the most forward she has been with you, and you catch her pulling back to take her breath away, a fierce but short kiss that left her red-faced. "Oppa, there could've been people watching!"

"I look forward to it." You lean back on the chair, using the book to block your delicious view of Sujeong lounging, and the fan helps you calm down and cool off. The afternoon wind ruffles through the pages of your book, the shadow cast by the sun serving as your bookmark as it shades the words you have read. Eventually though, the weather places a damper on things quite literally, the sand around you beginning to get spotty and dark.

"Sujeong, it's raining, should we go?"

"Ah should we? But maybe the rain will go away soon? Make room!" Sujeong climbs aboard the lounge chair, half sitting on you. The pitter patter on the beach umbrella becomes more frequent, and it became clear that the sun wouldn't be appearing again for a while. The two of you cuddle for awhile, and she hugs your arm while watching the light shower drag into a long pour. 

Your hand eventually slips underneath her top, rubbing her toned tummy. Sujeong doesn't push you away, instead encouraging it, trapping your arm between her own arm and body. Her hand draws circles on the back of yours as you draw larger circles over her skin, and you lean in to capture her lips when she looks to you.

You deepen the kiss, your other hand pulling her towards you. The hand on her body becomes more firm, more demanding, and yet, frustratingly she grips your hand tightly when you want to go lower. She can definitely feel your hardness poking at her, but she shakes her head.

"Not here, let's just go back." Sullenly you gather up your stuff, leaving the umbrella there for now to make a dash back to the hotel. The elevator ride up is quiet, and you try to not let your displeasure show—little did you know that Sujeong had other things on her mind.

You drop your belongings by the bed, and you are pleasantly surprised by Sujeong dropping you on the bed, pushing you from behind and peppering you with kisses.

"Oppa, let's do something special now." You manage to turn and sit up, and in your lap Sujeong looks both cute and sexy, her cheeks tinged pink with want, her clothes wet from the rain, clinging tightly around her figure.

"I thought you wanted to do that tonight?"

"I can't wait any longer." With her admission your hands are daring on her body, roaming the extra skin her top affords you. At her urgent tugs on your t-shirt you take it off before pulling Sujeong back in, resuming the liplock you had with her. Your lips move down to her neck, her gasps and breaths harried as you worked on the straps of her top. As soon as she feels them loosen she lifts the rain-soaked cloth up and over her head, her hair tousled—she was already a sexy mess. She becomes a sexy naked mess soon after, removing her shorts and her juice-soaked bikini bottoms in front of you before tugging on your own shorts.

"Wait Sujeong." You pause her attack on your boxers to reach in your bag for a box of condoms, fumbling with it to pull one out. She works your erection out of your boxers, stripping the last piece of clothing for you before reaching for the foil-protected protection. You close your eyes as Sujeong bobs her head on your shaft, wetting it and preparing for the familiar but unwelcome feeling of snug rubber.

"Oppa."

You open your eyes to see Sujeong biting on the wrapper of the condom, as if preparing to tear it open. To your shock she spits it out to the side, pushing herself to her feet and getting in your lap instead.

"S-Sujeong?" You throb and flex, your shaft brushing against her slit directly.

"Let's not use protection." She kisses you passionately to interrupt any protest, grinding in your lap, against your shaft, as if trying to make you just slip into her.

"Are you sure that's okay?" Your hands hold her waist still, prompting her to whine.

"This is what I wanted to be special. People say to dress for the job you want, so I dressed for the fuck I want—" she sucks your bottom lip, stinging it with a soft nip. "Bareback, I want to feel you directly oppa."

There has been an imaginary line between you and her, one enforced by the use of rubber, and in an instant it is broken as she sinks herself down in your lap, your tip spreading her slit open. Sujeong bites on her own lip, the sensation overwhelming as she feels you flesh to flesh.

"Ahh— mmmm!" Sujeong muffles a loud moan into your shoulder, she had imagined it to be good, to feel like her fingers when she tried putting them in, but not this good! She felt every inch of you intimately as she sank deeper and deeper on you, and you felt absolutely hot inside her, a warm living being, throbbing and pulsing with need.

"You feel so good..." she mumbles, already lifting herself off your lap before dropping back down, a sharp intake of breath from both of you indicating just how deep she took you—it felt like you had pushed the air straight out of her lungs. You try to respond in kind, but all you can manage is a moan as she coats your shaft with her slick warmth over and over again. You had been looking forward to doing this eventually, the next step in your relationship with Sujeong, but you never thought she would initiate it this quickly, certainly not this weekend, certainly not now.

Unable to put your thoughts into words, you hug Sujeong tighter, making her lean back a little—it allows you to capture a perky breast in your mouth, and with the lack of muffler she can't keep her loud husky moans down. It is extra loud when you swirl your tongue around a stiff nipple, and the bedroom never sounded more erotic as she rode you harder and harder, moans interspersed with the clapping of your bodies, with the lewd schlick and squelch of your connection.

"Oppa, oppa it's too good!" The two of you are lost in lust, primed for detonation. You start pulling her down on you forcefully, supplementing her own movements, and it sets the two of you off. "Wait, I'm going to— fuck!" Sujeong cries as she reaches an intense peak, her walls massage and seem to suck you deeper into her, and you make her scream when you push her peak even higher with your own.

"Haaannnghh!" Sujeong groans in ecstasy, her abdomen impossibly hot as you fill her with seed for the first time. She has felt you throb in orgasm before, dumping your load into a rubber, but never so directly, and her body reacts to the cum, strengthening her orgasm, making her milk you even more urgently. Rhythmically she rides and clings to your length, squeezing you for everything you have.

"Oh my god, oh god..." she gasps, slowly coming down from the delightful high. She moves gingerly, her nerves on fire, hypersensitive and overpleasured. She feels wet and sticky down there, and for a moment she thought she squirted and made a mess, but no, you were the one to make the mess inside her, small trickles of cum leaking out—you had thoroughly filled her, and then some. You continue rocking against her, and she can't help but whimper, letting you drain the last few spurts into her. It made her feel dirty, but she was dirty with you, and that made her feel amazing.

"I love you." A mini-climax rushes through her when you mumble it into her suddenly sweaty neck. Now she felt loved and wanted, and she drives herself down on your softening shaft, as if willing you to get hard again, wanting you to put more into her.

"Love you too." Sujeong captures your lips needily, and the kiss only breaks when you finally slip out of her, a flood of white following her out.

"W-Will you be okay?"

"Mmhmm, I told you, I want this, so I already took precautions."

"You are amazing." You kiss her and hug her close, your heartbeats eventually slowing down to an acceptable level. "Shower?" Sujeong tightens her arms and legs around you.

"Carry me?" A wide smile is plastered all over your face as you bring her to the bathroom, kissing her against the shower wall before finally letting her down. The two of you wash each other tenderly, and as you get below her waistline, you're surprised by just how much leaks out of her.

"That's a lot..." Sujeong gasps as you rub a finger between her legs, collecting your own cum on a finger before the water washes it away.

"Oppa put all of that in me." She takes your hand and rubs it further on her slit before bringing it to her mouth and sucking it clean. You briefly part her lips with your fingers before kissing her again, pushing her against the shower wall. You sense the smile on her face when you poke against her thigh. "I want more of it." Sujeong turns to face the wall, bending slightly over to brace herself.

There's no way you are able to resist her offer, and this time your thumbs dig into her dimples of Venus as you thrust forward into Sujeong. Her moan is loud and resonant, echoing and overpowering the sound of running water. The cum still inside her enhances her creaminess, and you soon have her on her tiptoes, driving up and forward into her. You turn the shower off, a distraction to your fucking, and the claps of your wet bodies is even more erotic.

"More oppa, more!" Sujeong cries out wantonly, and finally getting to fuck her raw instead of being ridden unlocks something in you. She finds herself on five toes as you lift one leg to the side and get even deeper inside her. Fully pinned against the wall, Sujeong relishes your rod pounding and grinding her senseless. Now she is truly being fucked, it makes her feel claimed, taken by you her lover, and then—

"Cum for me." You surprise her by bring a hand down to her clit and pressing on it, and Sujeong wails in climax and shuts down. She trembles and quivers against you, her toes curling uselessly in the air. This time she does squirt around you, her slick splashing on the shower floor between your thrusts. You can almost feel your balls shrink as you push into her one last time before reaching your own orgasm, shooting your load up into her, filling her up just like she wanted.

"Ah..." Sujeong can only manage a hoarse whisper at the exquisite heat between her legs, especially when she is back on two feet, the warm liquid trickling down her thighs as you hold her tightly in an embrace.

"Good?" You brush her wet hair, making sure she was ok with your roughness.

"Great." Her legs felt like noodles, but in your arms Sujeong has never felt more secure—there's no way she's ever having you use condoms again. "Help me clean up?" This time the two of you properly shower, and somehow you manage to get dressed without jumping each other again. Yet the expensive dinner reservation you made feels almost cheap and worthless as the two of you are hungry for something more than food. The dishes seem to fly by before you are dashing back to your room in record time.

"Oppa, think you have more for me?" Sujeong's in your arms, all dolled up and looking lovelier than ever.

You lean in for a kiss and mumble into her neck, "I'll try, not as much as before."

"I'll take whatever I can get." She pulls you towards bed, lying on it so you can get on top and undress her. 

“I love you,” you whisper, slowly pulling the straps of her dress down.

“Love you too, now give me everything you have.”

The rest of the night barely involves any sleep as you make Sujeong feel loved, then fucked, then loved again as you take her and she takes you, enjoying the next level of intimacy your relationship has reached.

Housekeeping gets to cleaning the room after the two of you checkout the next morning, bleary-eyed and shaky-legged. They happen upon a wrapped condom on the floor, and a little further in the corner a box of condoms, forgotten and unused.

"Poor guy, guess he didn't get lucky."

Oh how wrong they were.

A/N: Happy belated birthday and comeback/debut to Ryu Sujeong! That beach pic has been on my mind for a long time, and I finally managed to come up with a good pun to write about it. I could’ve done a quickie, but yeah, happy to come up with the whole “bareback” thing lol. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Occasionally it is hot to write about stuff like getting rid of condoms/protection, and I have a creampie/breeding kink, as you will notice in my stories. In reality though, relationships are not dependent on whether or not you use condoms or other forms of protection instead, use whatever protection is best for you and your partner that you agree on. Understand the pros and cons of each, and the risks of unprotected sex. Be responsible to yourself and your partner.

Now go listen to her comeback/debut Pink Moon! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3Tg0o2O4wg

[twotitsjohndecaon]

In Only Seven Days

In honor of our man John Richard Deacon being born on August the 19th 1951, I got a little somethin happy birthday king

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: drinking, language I think, lil bit of drama but lots of cutesy stuff, and sexy times again not too bad but 18+ nonetheless

MONDAY

Interview Monday. Recording Tuesday. Clean the flat Wednesday. Record Thursday. Record Friday. Sit around and get nothing done in the studio Saturday. And then photoshoot and listen to Roger complain about his insipid “drum sound” Sunday. 

John was stuck in a draining cycle. Of course, there were exciting moments of respite like a party or or concert every once in a while, but those had grown few and far between as of late, and John couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone and gotten a drink, or Hell, even smiled beyond the flash of a false nicety to the studio’s secretary every morning, and that was just so he wouldn’t seem like a complete dick. 

It was a miserable, rainy, English Friday night when the sun had set unreasonably early and Brian’s whining about wanting more of a guitar solo had finally pushed John over the edge. The next morning he immediately looked for a flight in the phone book to the farthest place away possible, which seemingly just so happened to be the island of Bali. The cost was massive, but with buzzwords like “sun” and “far” John couldn’t find it in him to care. By Sunday evening, a suitcase was packed and a brief note was left on his bass guitar, leaving the others with not much beyond a simple “hasta la vista.”

And so, Monday, after a long but relaxing Freddie-less and Roger-lacking flight (with a touch of Brian-emptiness), and a simple taxi ride and check in to the resort (which he assumed was a result of the large sum he had thrown to some B-class travel agent) John felt something beautiful and serene: freedom, even if it was just for this one week. Eyes weighed heavy, body un-tensing upon a soft mattress, pillow chocolates tossed carelessly aside, and a balmy heat surrounding him, John finally allowed himself to relax.

***

You could hardly believe your luck. Every quarter, your work held a raffle for the employees where they gave away something nice to a winner chosen at random. Gift cards, a new TV set, and good department store discounts were the typical sort of prizes. But this time, the winnings were bigger. A weeks holiday for one at a resort in Bali. It was more expensive than the usual prizes, but you supposed since the holidays weren’t so far off it made sense that they’d bulk up the winnings. You hadn’t expected to win, really, you never had with any of the other items before. But here you were, one week later in Bali. You were quite happy. You didn’t know much about the island, but who were you to turn down a week of relaxation?  A week of beach, sun, drinks, and massages were of no complaint, and you were sure you’d leave satisfied by the end of it all. Everything between traveling and checking in had gone smoothly, as per arranged by your work, and after a nice dinner in the hotel you sunk into bed. The vacation really would be nice. It had been a stressful quarter; you deserved it. It was easy to fall asleep dreaming about an upcoming week of nothing.

TUESDAY

It was all really nice. Relaxing, just like you’d thought. After a wonderful breakfast and glorious morning in the spa, you decided to soak up some sun, a rarity in November, and headed down to the beach. The hotel had its own reserved section of the beach with canopies and chairs set up, but you decided to go the more bohemian route of laying on your towel in the sand. You closed your eyes, soaking up the rays, feeling recharged already. You weren’t sure how long you had been lying there for before you opened your eyes, blinking harshly at the light reflecting upon the water as your vision returned to normal. Once you could see you lazily took. In your surroundings. Then you noticed him. 

A man around your age, with perfect brown hair staring at you. Typically when men stared at you (especially older men and especially when you were in a bikini) it made you quite uncomfortable, a low predatory gaze directed your way, but this man’s eyes read the complete opposite, and there wasn’t any way you could know that except for that you just did. Maybe it was how his eyes weren’t raking over you like a possession, but rather like a fascination of a piece of art, how you’d look at the Mona Lisa. There wasn’t anything but genuine in his gaze, like he had known you fondly and forever. You couldn’t say you were reciprocating, maybe you were trying to, but you were a bit too transfixed. He was cute, handsome, and even if he had been looking your way in a more typically male fashion it wouldn’t have been an invitation you would have necessarily turned away. But it was more than that, and even though you could have sworn you had never seen this man in your life, he nearly could’ve convinced you that you had. The intensity, and unexpectedness of this moment had made you feel something, perhaps not a butterfly fluttering in your stomach, but maybe a chrysalis or a caterpillar at the very least. Then your eyes met, just for a second, and wanting to show that his gaze was welcome, you gave him a smile, a big one which flew onto your face on its own accord. He smiled back, a bit nervous but you could both understand that this was an uncommon but special moment for the both of you. 

But then, moment over. Somebody’s kid ran past screaming, kicking sand all over the place, covering your hair which you had really wanted to stay clean. The moment was broken, and you sighed, quickly dusting yourself off before standing and shaking off your towel. You planned to give the man another smile, one that silently commented on the situation, but you couldn’t see him any longer when you looked again. It was still very bright, so you shaded your eyes, scanning the promenade left to right, and right to left, but nothing. He was gone, almost like a sweet figment of your imagination. You sighed and walked back to your room to take a shower before dinner.

***

Silence was a gift. A glorious gift that John had bought for himself through this trip. It was everything he needed. And he found himself on the beach minutes after his late breakfast (more brunch— he deserved to sleep in). Ensuring he was properly sun protected (thanks to his pasty British winter complexion, he was susceptible to burning), he headed down for a full day at the beach. He would poke around the hotel later; he had plenty of time for that. As he reclined in one of the chairs which the resort had set out, he only heard the deep and true push and pull of waves, and the calming distant chatter of others. In and out of dozing, he had to have been there for hours when he felt a bit parched, and intended to get up for a drink, something fancy, he had in mind. But then he saw her.

She was the most beautiful woman to ever exist, there was no doubt about it. A short circuit shot and fired in his brain, and his senses turned to mush from no result of being in the sun too long. She simply strolled out closer to the water and laid out her towel, perfectly, and laid down. It was effortless and eternal, her existence seemingly solely to captivate John. The quiet that had overtaken him earlier which he so desperately wanted was gone, replaced by a million screams of disbelief and yearning.

He felt like he knew her, that they were meant to be and connected. That the universe had perfectly designed this moment just for him for something wonderful he must have done. If that were the case, he would thank the universe every day of his life from now on. All thoughts of getting a drink were gone as he was glued to his chair, but in an upright position, looking at her, probably quite obviously and maybe creepily. But he couldn’t move or do anything but admire.

This had never happened to him before. There were people John had been attracted to before from fleeting looks, sure, but never one with such a physical and visceral reaction. He didn’t know why either; it’s like everything that needed to work, every box that could possibly need to be checked off simply was and beyond. 

Then, she stood up, and somehow, looked at him. John froze further, somehow becoming liquid, frozen solid, and feeling light as air at the same time. She smiled. He smiled back, but not as good as hers was. 

Then the moment was over. Everything came crashing back, reality, sense, and social awareness, and he realized how big of a fool of himself he must have just made. Before the sand could clear and the most recent wave could be pulled back out to sea, John panicked and scurried away. He couldn’t spare a glance back. Breaking out into a sweat unrelated to the tropical heat, he quickly ran back to his room, where maybe he would just spend the rest of the trip now. 

But no, after a shower and cooling down and finally getting that drink (although he just ordered one to his room instead of going to the bar like he wanted) he came to his senses a bit.

Instant physical attraction, just a small crush, that’s all it was. This happened all the time to… everyone, really. John shook his head to himself, opening his balcony window to sit on the porch and enjoy the sunset with his drink. He was being silly. It was a bit strange he had such a reaction, but he had simply found a woman attractive. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, it had been a while for him. It was probably that, and a mixture of being tired from travel and the heat. He shouldn’t overthink it. This holiday was just for relaxing, so he closed his eyes once more, and that’s what he did.

WEDNESDAY

John somewhat shamefully admitted to himself by the end of the day that he had gone a bit out of his way to find her again. But no luck. He tried the beach, but she wasn’t there, but to be fair he went at a different time today than yesterday. Nothing in the restaurant, but maybe she ate dinner early, and nothing at the bar. And then the entire day had passed by and John realized how silly he had been searching for her all day instead of enjoying his vacation. So he booked a late night massage, ordered extra pillow chocolates to his room which he gorged upon while watching mindless TV, and then fell asleep. Relaxing like he wanted. But he couldn’t push the thought out of his head anymore once his head hit the pillow. He hoped that he would see her again, tomorrow, ever, he didn’t mind. He just needed to see her again, to confirm to himself that he had in fact just been acting silly and it was just a crush. That’s what he told himself. But really he knew deep down it’s because he needed to see her again. But that would have to wait for tomorrow.

***

Maybe he really had been a figment of your imagination. No luck at the beach, bar, or restaurant, or even in the spa, and you may have accidentally on purpose walked past the men’s pool changing room to peer in just in case (unfortunately for you that resulted in seeing way too much potential-naked-old-man). So you sighed and booked yourself a pedicure, which was soothing, and had your dinner, which was lovely, and headed down to the bar for a second time.

It wasn’t particularly crowded for a Wednesday evening, but you supposed that made sense. You had some nice drinks, mostly kept to yourself, talked to the bartender a bit, and then a nice man came up to you. He was attractive, and you’d normally entertain the both of you for at least a little bit before you decide to dive in or cut it off, but you didn’t even let it get that far this time.  He was nice and good looking, but he wasn’t that other man. It seemed ridiculous of you to turn down advances like you were already in a relationship, but something didn’t feel right. The moment on the beach the other day felt too unresolved to have anything else happen with, well, anyone. So you gave stiff answers and turned away quickly from the man, and he got the message and wandered off. You finished your drinks and headed back to your room. Where was he? And why did you want to see him so badly again? You couldn’t answer, though, as your eyes grew heavy from all of the thinking, all of the running around looking for him, and from the tinge of alcohol coursing through your system. 

THURSDAY

Another day of relaxation, or at least an attempt to. The encounter with the man still pervaded your thoughts, although maybe a little less as time went on. Good. Probably. No use dwelling over it. You thought to yourself in the morning why this was sticking with you so much. Maybe it was just the intensity. No one had ever looked at you so thoroughly before, and it made you feel hungry to be understood. It was a particular glance, something you’d remember fondly and mention to your friends a bit off hand and more casually than what was actually warranted. You’d leave out the part about obsessing over it for days, or maybe you’d add that in to the anecdote humorously, because classic Y/N, always creating an extreme romance-Disney-Princess-love-at-first-sight scenario in your head. 

Or maybe you wouldn’t mention it, because it still felt too big and special to comprehend. You really couldn’t process why this was on your mind so harshly. You tried to put it aside a bit, still there in the back of your nagging conscious, but not at the forefront, which would have to do. 

Since this was on your mind on some level, however, it made you too present to completely space out and mindlessly enjoy the pampering, so you were all too aware of the monotony of your vacation routine. 

Not like there was much else to do. So you sucked it up and did the same stuff as you did the day before and before, and it was fine, and then you found yourself in the bar again, a mid-level conversation in with the bartender, and a few drinks down, enough for a bit of a buzz but nothing where you weren’t completely aware of your surroundings. The conversation died down with the bartender after a few more people came in and he had to take their orders, leaving you stirring your drink. You sighed, looking to see who had come in, and saw no one special. A middle aged couple, an elderly couple, another middle aged couple… there was certainly a type that the resort attracted. And it seemed like no one was there alone besides you either. Well, besides one other. But maybe he—, no, probably— he had a girlfriend too, she was just out of sight for the moment. Maybe you had confused the entire situation and were an idiot. You stirred your drink again. Took a sip. Looked up again. And there, right in front of you, he was.

***

John stupidly (he assumed) spent his entire day looking for you again while disguising it as taking part in a normal vacation. He didn’t look very much harder, or very well he suspected, as he simply checked the same spots (though he was on time for the beach today) and had no luck. Spa, beach, restaurant, beach, lobby, beach, nothing, until he called it quits and decided to finally get that drink at the bar he had been holding off since Tuesday. He freshened himself up a bit, making himself for presentable for the venue, and made his way down, giving up a little bit in his mind at finding you, which was deeply disappointing but a bit comforting as it was a load off of his mind. 

But then everything was rushing back. He walked in, and saw you there, stirring your drink so brilliantly, and every seemingly ridiculous little desperation that had plagued him about you for the past couple of days came rushing back to him. 

You sat in a perfect, casual yet formal warm weather dress, stirring what looked to be some extravagant fruit cocktail, looking a bit bored, definitely alone and with no one else. You couldn’t possibly be in a relationship if you were at the bar like this, right? John collected his mind the best that he could (physically however he was still stuck gaping in the entryway like an idiot). This was his chance. He normally wasn’t so forward. The girls after concerts usually came up to him and the others themselves, he never really had to make the initial approach. But it was for this reason with you standing all alone so perfectly that he decided to go for it, because if the way he had been kicking himself for running away for the past day and a half was a preview to how the rest of his life would be if he had never given it a chance, he was in for a long and painful ride. Finally collecting himself physically as well (luckily you hadn’t seemed to have seen him) he made his way over to you. He walked right up to you, up to your field of vision, and then you looked at each other again. It was the same as before, more so and better up close. At least it confirmed to him that he had made the correct decision in obsessing over you, that it wasn’t a complete loss, because he could see better now that you were definitely worth obsessing over. John had made a critical mistake however. He forgot to think of something to say to you once he got up here. Or anything at all.

***

You could see that he was having a hard time, that he was nervous, but you found it endearing that he could be so sheepish, and not just to be nice in social politics. You were very glad to see him again. While his problem seemed to be that he was (hopefully) so excited that he couldn’t say anything, yours was the opposite. Seeing him again made you giddy, like you could gab on for hours about how you felt, or maybe just giggle about it to yourself in amazement. But you decided to help him out.

“Hi,” you said softly, thinking that was a good place to start. The man gulped. You seemed to have successfully snapped him out of his stupor for the time being. He smiled, embarrassed, but it was so lovely. His cheeks rosed.

“Hi…” he drifted off, then realizing he was being an idiot again, “Sorry, I— I think I saw you at the beach the other day,” he said in a whimsy tone, struck by so much of you. 

You nodded. “I think I saw you too. I’m Y/N.”

Y/N. It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard, an antidote in verbal form to any ailment he’d ever had. John didn’t believe in God necessarily but he believed there could be one now with that name, it was too divine otherwise. He was staring again.

“Would you like to sit down?” you asked, nodding your head to the empty seat he was near. 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he smiled, but this time really smiled, and you were beyond delighted when you saw the adorable gap between his front teeth. “What are you having?” 

“Just a spritz.”

“Oh, those are good.”

“Are you gonna get something?” you asked with a teasing smile, catching him become distracted again. 

“Oh! Yes.�� He ordered a Pilsner. Each of you took a sip contentedly. The silence wasn’t awkward, though it persisted, it felt necessary to drink everything in, quite literally.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Oh, sorry, John. It’s John,” he said, cursing himself for being so starstruck in a sense. You sipped again. He gulped. “This… may sound strange, but I feel like I’ve met you before, even though I’m almost sure I haven’t.” He paused. “Sorry. That’s silly.” You put your hand on his arm, and his skin burned wonderfully at the contact. 

“No. I didn’t know how to bring it up, but I feel the same way,” you nodded.

“That’s part of why I was looking at you the other day. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to.”

“No, you didn’t at all.”

“Good,” you both smiled, and sipped again, feet pointed towards each other in clear direct interest. “What brings you to Bali?” he asked. You stirred your drink and smiled excitedly. 

“I won a week here from a raffle my company does. I didn’t expect to win! It was such a nice surprise. It’s been so nice too.”

“Isn’t it? It’s gorgeous here.”

“What brings you here then? All the way from… Leicestershire?” you said, trying to place his accent. John chuckled. 

“Good ear. But I live in London now. And I’m escaping from the hooligans I have to unfortunately live and work with.” He said. You chuckled. 

“Hooligans, hm? You’ll have to tell me more,” you prompted. John continued to tell you all about his band, the other boys, and all of the antics they got up to in their youth, and still today really. You thought it was charming how John took charge of his life and set his boundary when things got too intense at work, and took a trip to Bali. That, and you were grateful to be around him in general. You also graciously learned that the both of you were single, due to some stars aligning in the universe. The two of you hit it off, and talked nonstop. You had never felt such ease of conversation between someone. Lots of times in your life you didn’t know how to continue a person, like you couldn’t read or relate to people and the conversation would fizzle out, even if you enjoyed it, racking your brain for something more, but that never happened with John, or at least so far. He always managed to keep you engaged and excited to talk to him, and in the ways you least expected but was most pleased with. You felt alight and recharged for anything, really, once the bartender alerted you that the bar was soon closing for the night, and you realized you were just about the only two left. It had been like time stood still when you were with John. You turned back to him from the bartender after they’d warned you. You two were silent for a moment. 

“What was the other part?” you enquired. 

“Other part?”

“Earlier. You said when you were looking at me the other day, part of it was because you felt like you knew me. What was the other part?” John took a deep breath in. You could tell he was nervous, and grabbed his hand that was nearest to you and gave it a squeeze. That, and maybe the alcohol was making you a bit more willing to be more touchy with John. 

“Because I’d never seen someone so beautiful before in my life,” he sighed, looking deep into your eyes, seeing you truly, uncensored. 

“John…” you sighed happily. Usually you’d think this was some sort of trick to get you in bed, but you could tell, you just knew John meant it. And he was talking about the inside, too, and you felt so whole.

“I know, it’s cheesy, but I… can’t describe it. It just is. You just are.” You grabbed his other hand. 

“I believe you John. And I think the same thing,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes a bit as you looked down at your hands. He squeezed them and your eyes met again. 

The bartender gave the two of you a pleading look, and taking pity on him, understanding he wanted to finish his long day, you both glanced towards the door. You hopped off the stool and started to shuffle reluctantly towards the door with John by your side. Once you had exited the bar, standing outside the glass doors, the beautiful manicured garden of the resort behind you, the only sound coming from the trickling fountain put in as an outdoor centerpiece and the ocean softly in the distance, a sigh, a constant pushing of everything together. The only light a few small outside lamps no more than a minimal illumination for the footpath, and the moon shining down, as the lights to the bar shut off. John faced you and took your hands, everything shining in each other’s eyes. Your palms were held high as your fingers interwove.

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” John breathed, whispered. You nodded fervently. 

“Of course. I have all day.” John looked at you intensely and kissed the back of one of your hands.

“Meet for breakfast? At the buffet?” he asked.

“Perfect,” you smiled. You managed to tear away for a moment, and parted in opposite directions to your own rooms. You didn’t need to look back, and neither did he, because you knew you’d see each other again.

FRIDAY

You met John right on time, and maybe you’d woken up a bit earlier to make sure you looked extra nice for breakfast. When you saw him, large smiles flew onto both of your faces and you walked directly to him, everything looking clean, fresh, bright, and wonderful in the morning sunlight. He was even more adorable with his slightly pillow-ruffled hair and wide awake eyes. 

“Good morning,” you said, giggling a little, and you didn’t even know why. 

“Morning,” John said happily back, also giggling a bit, just excited to see you again. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Amazing,” John smiled. “Shall we eat?” he said, gesturing to the food. You nodded. John handed you a plate and you each loaded up on the complimentary continental breakfast that was included for staying at the resort. You both sat down at a table with a fantastic beach view. You both seemed to take it in for a moment before turning to your food, and then each other. Neither of you could stop smiling. 

“The weather’s been so nice here,” you said.

“Yeah, we really lucked out. I heard it rains quite often. Just like jolly ol’ England,” said John. You chuckled and agreed. “I feel I was a bit selfish last night. I only spoke about me,” he said, eyebrows furrowing for a moment.

“No! I enjoyed it. You’re fascinating, John!” you chuckled. He blushed at the compliment. 

“But I do want to know more about you. Tell me about this job you work at, where you win trips to Bali.”

“You make it sound like I do this all the time,” you laughed again. You proceeded to tell him about your career, your studies to get you there, and just how passionate you were about the subject and lucky you felt to be working somewhere you loved. John loved seeing you light up about the things you were ardent about. “But I really do enjoy it. I could only dream about such a thing when I was a kid,” you finished, also taking the last bite of your food. “Look at me, now I’ve been the one talking all about myself,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“Not at all. To quote someone I know, you’re fascinating,” he smiled. It was your turn to blush now. John took the final sip of the glass of milk he had gotten for himself. He stood up and cleared your plate without asking, ever the gentleman. You stood up to thank him.

“I’m sure I’ll gain a few pounds from these daily high sugar breakfast pancakes by the end of this trip,” he commented. You smiled at his quip. He began to say something else, but before he could you spoke over him. 

“Would you like to come to the beach with me?” You said quickly, and then composing yourself a little and blushing at your eagerness. “I mean— I was going to spend most of the day lazing around there. Might take a dip. Only if you’re not busy,” you said softly. John beamed at how adorable you were. You could’ve then sworn your heart stopped when he suddenly brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I’d love to,” he said. 

You both agreed to change and then meet back at the private beach entrance in a few minutes. You met, and John looked perfectly handsome, all tan from the former days of sun, and John used all of his willpower to compose himself around you in your bikini, trying not to stare. You chuckled, noticing, but took his hand before he could feel bad about it (because it wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest) and led him towards the sand, towards two chairs that had been set up in front of an umbrella. After coating yourself in copious amounts of sunscreen and scolding John for not putting on enough (“John, it isn’t safe!”) and laughing again when he then smeared an exaggerated amount of lotion on his nose like a lifeguard before rubbing it in, the two of you settled down and talked more. The conversation eventually died out naturally and both of you soaked in the rays peacefully, and soaked in each other’s presence, each which had a glorious contented effect on the other. You were so relaxed, more so than any spa treatment or nap had made you feel in the days prior. You were so relaxed in fact, that you didn’t notice John had been gone until you sensed the light shift over your eyes, shading them further. You opened them, blinking to the sudden light, to see John smiling over you and holding out two ice creams, one for each of you. You gasped excitedly and took one, thanking him as you began to eat the delicious treat. 

“How’d you know chocolate was my favorite?” you asked. 

“Lucky guess,” he smiled. The two of you finished quickly, laughing as you each attempted to catch the drips before it made a mess, the ice cream melting fast in the sun. You both inevitably ended up, however, with sticky hands, and a few drops on your stomachs and legs, the heat too much for the frozen treat. You looked to each other and laughed at your states. 

“Come on, let’s clean off,” you said, nodding towards the water. John began to stand up. “Race you?” you said, and took off before John could realize what you had said. But momentarily, you heard him scoff and accuse you of cheating, and then sand being kicked behind you. You squealed as the cool water reached your toes, and then even more so when John suddenly grabbed your waist and pushed the both of you further into the water. Both of you fell softly as the waves caught any impact you might have had, soaking you both, but you couldn’t seem to care as you both attempted to stand, hard to do with all of the laughter. 

“I won,” said John, catching his breath. 

“I wouldn’t necessarily call that winning,” you smiled. John retaliated by splashing a bit of water back at you, and you did so back. Before it got too ugly your breath hitched as John once again put a hand on your waist like he had moments before. He brushed now a wet strand of your hair behind your ear once more, and you placed a hand on his forearm. You both saw into each other’s eyes, understanding how special you were to each other in this moment. You each turned to the horizon, watching the sun glitter off of the waves as it began to descend into a gilded set. You both stood and watched for a few minutes, and you gasped excitedly as the sun gave off an emerald flash as it bent under the water’s horizon. 

“That was so beautiful,” you whispered. 

“It was,” said John, but he was looking more at you than anything else. You turned to him. “Meet me for dinner. Let’s clean up and meet for dinner,” he said. You nodded excitedly. You walked back to your rooms once more and agreed to meet at the reception area in an hour. 

After a shower, singing to yourself happily the entire time, you decided on what to wear. You decided on a black sundress that you had brought, one you had meant to pass as casual but could definitely be more formal. It’s why you had bought it in the first place a while ago, it was good for switching from day to night when you didn’t have time to properly change. By some alignment of the stars, you had packed it with you. You gave yourself the best blowout you could with the small hairdryer included in your room’s amenities and touched your makeup up a bit before heading to the hotel’s reception. He was already there when you arrived. His eyes found yours and widened, taking in your form. 

“Y/N…” he trailed off. “you look beautiful,” he said in a daze.

“Back at you,” you giggled, making John blush. He really did look extremely handsome. He also seemed to not have packed anything particularly formal, but looked incredible in some flares and a button down, which revealed his tanned chest underneath. “Shall we?” he asked. You nodded, and looped your arm into his. 

You arrived to the restaurant, mutually deciding to try something outside of the resort for the first time all week for each of you, and decided on a nice looking place nearby. It was still relatively tourist-y, so there were still English menus, but it felt nice to get out. You each ordered drinks, a nice meat entree each, and shared a chocolate cake for desert as the conversation flowed easily between you two throughout the night. You felt like you were soaring around John, and he felt enlightened by you. Each of you felt like there was a motivational reason to wake up in the morning for each other. John, ever the gentleman, insisted on paying for the meal (though you forced him to let you pay for the drinks at least) and you were soon walking hand in hand through the quiet, dimly lit streets through the night. John additionally insisted on walking you to your room, and you were sure you’d never smiled so much by the time you’d arrived in front of your door. The conversation halted naturally as you turned around to face him, your hands still firmly in his. His breath hitched, and he felt choked nearly as you looked at him, your gazes so intense. 

“I had the loveliest evening John,” you whispered. 

“Me too.” He brought one of your hand up and gave it a kiss, and your heart just about melted. You couldn’t help but move closer to him a bit. 

“Not just the dinner. The whole day has been amazing. One of the best I’ve ever had,” you started. He nodded firmly. “I know that seems strange to say. But it’s true.”

“Me too. I feel the same way. It feels a bit ridiculous to say, since I’ve only known you for so shortly, but everything feels so… right. And I hope you don’t think I’m too forward to say such a thing,” he confessed. He had confessed more than just his appreciation of the day in his speech, and you both knew it; it didn’t have to be said directly. John would normally never be this forward. He could be very blunt at times, but not in anything more genuine than annoyance at Brian. And the petty side of him typically made everyone around him figure everything out. He was usually the type sit back and watch, to laugh at the inevitable he could seemingly predict, but none of that seemed right here. All John could feel was genuine and good, and it was so overwhelming he had to say it out loud, in very plain terms. Never had he felt something so physical, so emotional. The two of you were simply understood and all of yourselves. You moved closer to each other. “Not at all. I’ve never felt so right in my life,” you finished. You moved even closer and your arms slid from John’s hand up to his arms, and then his shoulders. With a final look into each other’s eyes, John grabbed your face gently and pulled your lips to his. It was the sweetest kiss, the sweetest touch either of you had ever felt. His hands fell to your waist and you fell into each other further. Only when you couldn’t breath any more did either of you pull away. You smiled at each other, breathing in each other’s scents so close, and continued to hold each other. John once again brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and you immediately did the same to him, causing both of you to fall into a fit of giggles before you quieted each other in another kiss. 

“See you tomorrow?” John asked hopefully as you pulled away again. 

“Definitely,” you said, giving him a final peck before unlocking your room and giving him a smile as you closed the door. 

You flopped down, extremely contented on your soft bed. You didn’t even bother to shower, do your skin care routine, change, or brush your teeth as you immediately fell into a wonderful slumber. You just couldn’t. You were too exhausted (in a good way) to move, and you wanted just some semblance of you to keep the night forever. 

John had a little more of his wits as he managed to get ready for bed, but he also flopped quickly into the white, fluffy sheets. His mind was racing more nonstop. He kept trying to convince himself, that he must be crazy, There’s no way this could be happening to him. He hand only seen you a matter of days ago, let alone talked to you for less, and John struggled to convince himself he didn’t have feelings for you. He kept trying to find a reason that this was insane, absolutely crazy, but he simply couldn’t convince himself of that. He didn’t believe such a thing, because everything simply was so perfect with you. Outsiders would call him crazy, stupid, and he’d always wondered how some people got married after a matter of weeks of dating and had lasting relationships, but now he seemed to understand it more. He only had ever heard such stories in hushed tones about family gossip for some sort of distant uncle, and everyone had thought they were crazy, or the local storekeeper had done the same thing, and John had agreed that love at first sight was a type of insanity, and laughed at the thought. But none of it was funny now. It was all so beautiful, and he could really truly feel it. 

John turned around in bed happily, and took a quick glance at the alarm clock near his bed. It had just turned midnight. Saturday. One day left.

SATURDAY

When John woke up, he was even more in a panic. All of the contentedness gone. He had only just begun to realize it last night, but it was truly setting in now. Just one day. 24 hours. Before he had to leave Bali, head back to England, into the miserable November weather and rain, and his insipid bandmates. One day until he had to leave you. How could he possibly do such a thing? He couldn’t imagine living a second without a promise of you. He felt sick, genuinely ill as he laid in bed, but again, the promise of you was the only thing to get him out. He felt shaky, in a blind panic, and couldn’t even eat as he made his way out for the day. This was probably silly as well, but John couldn’t help it. Did you know? Did you even realize that he was leaving so soon? How could you be alright with it? John couldn’t stand it. 

The truth is, you had realized it. You didn’t know when John was leaving necessarily, but as for you it was tomorrow afternoon. But you had not panicked. You couldn’t, because you couldn’t bear to think of it at all. The second the thought had come into your mind, you shut it down, put it away. And besides, you weren’t going to let this poison your last day with John. This day was to be enjoyed. 

It occurred to John only after he had left his room the two of you hadn’t agreed on a particular time or place to meet, and that sent his panic spiraling further for a moment, thinking back to how he’d looked for you a few days before to no avail. But it didn’t last long, as he soon found you by the pool, sitting in the already hot sun of the late morning. You had your eyes closed, not noticing John come up to you. 

“Mind if I sit?” He smiled. You blinked open and smiled as John took a seat on the lounger next to you and sat up. He wasn’t worried anymore. His day was better now. 

“Not at all,” you smiled, closing your eyes again. John relaxed and closed his eyes as well. “Sleep well?”

“Very,” he said.

“You’re a bit overdressed for the pool,” you pointed out, referring to his jeans and t-shirt. 

“Maybe you’re a bit underdressed for the rest of the day,” he jested. You sat up further and looked at him. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s happening for the rest of the day?” you asked. 

“Lunch?” He offered. You nodded gratefully and moved to stand up, but gasped excitedly before you did. 

“What?” he asked.

“I know just the place!” you said, pulling on a flowy sundress you had brought out with you over your bathing suit (one that made John’s heart race quite a bit). You slipped on your shoes and took his hand. “Picnic?” you offered. John smiled. 

“Good plan.” The two of you made your way out of the resort, into a local shop, and bought yourselves some terrible little sandwiches and fruit, along with a couple of sodas, and insisted on paying yourself this time (“You bought me food last night!”) as John grabbed the plastic bag. 

“Shall we eat on the beach?” he suggested, following you along, amused at how adorable you were, seemingly set out on a mission. The light in your eyes was contagious and filled his. You shook your head. 

“I know some place better,” you said, grabbing his hand once more and leading him away.

***

“Wow,” you whispered to yourself as you reached the peak of the hill you had just trekked up. You turned around to look for John, only to find him nowhere to be found. “John?” you quickly looked back down the hill to see him huffing and puffing as he reached the top near you. He smiled when he saw you, despite being out of breath.

“How long’s this hiking trail again?” he breathed harshly. You giggled.

“We can stop here,” you said taking pity on him. “Look, it’s beautiful.”

“Incredible,” John said, eyes widening as he took in the truly magnificent view. He had to admit, he’d been skeptical about a hike in the Bali heat (especially when it was due to rain) but it had made you so happy, and it really was an amazing sight. It was all worth it. The air was so fresh.

“Shall we sit?” you said, snapping John out of his mild stupor. John nodded, and the two of you fell upon the grass and opened the lunch you had bought, talking, taking in the sights, and each other.

“Sorry for dragging you all the way up here,” you commented as you folded your napkin away and threw it in to the plastic bag to dispose of later. John shook his head.

“I couldn’t imagine a better lunch,” John said. 

“What if there was a lift that took us straight up without the walking?” You laughed. John chuckled.

“Well, yes, then it would have been slightly better. But I don’t regret a thing,” said John, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a short kiss. You smiled into it. Every time you kissed, it felt like you were breathing properly for the first time, feeling so refreshed and enlivened, more than ever before.

*** 

After descending the hill and parting shortly to change out of your grass-stained clothes, you each met for dinner once more. It was lovely, incredible again in every way to be with you, but John felt an impending sense of doom. He became increasingly aware of the ticking time bomb, the hours, minutes, seconds, reducing too fast until he had to go back home, and there was nothing he could do. He felt so helpless, and didn’t know if you knew or felt the same, or if you were even aware at all. It was all he could do to hold your hand tight as you walked back to your room once more that night and turned to each other once more, just as you had before. You somehow were more beautiful now. John pulled you close without hesitation this time, and connected his lips to yours. You melted against him, in the best way. You felt his somberness in this moment, the same doom you had been holding off on all day. It seemed so real now, him in your arms, not knowing the next time it would be, or if there was a next time. All you had was him, fleeting, right now. Tears pricked your eyes as you stared deeply into his.

“John…” you started, choking up before you could even begin. 

“I know,” he said, completely understanding, pulling you close. You fell into his shoulder, only knowing his sweet smell and gentle touch. John felt terrible seeing you upset, but partly relieved you had some semblance of your imminent parting. That way he wouldn’t have to spring it on you. God, how could he possibly tell you? Say such a thing? He could only hold you tight and kiss you again, using his thumbs to wipe at your glistening eyes, shushing you comfortingly. 

“Can you come in?” you said smally, and John could have deceased right there. 

“Of course.” He followed you in your room, the door closing softly, and the lights remaining low, the push and pull of the waves lightly in the ambience. The two of you held each other close, barely able to accept the majesty of each other. You brought John to your lips, and never disconnected. Gently, you unbuttoned his shirt and felt all along him, and all of it was perfect. John slid the straps of your dress down before reaching for the zipper in the back before lightly caressing your soft hair. John shrugged off his shirt, and your dress pooled to the floor, and you reached to unbutton his trousers. You walked back towards the bed and fell into the soft, soft sheets, and laid back against the middle, John always following, both of you only in your underpants now. John had never seen a sight so beautiful as all of you. Your lips were warm and sweet against each other’s as the final pieces of clothing were removed. John thrust in, and your eyes connected, never leaving, outpouring pure affection. It felt so good, so perfect, all of it, and he gently held your face. The speed picked up, but with grace and subtly as you both soon reached your highs, never leaving each other’s gaze. John, still inside you, fell slightly on top of you as you grabbed on to his back tightly, melding yourselves to each other forever, shaking and breathing together, synchronized almost. John kissed you hard, and you tried your best to give every feeling you had in reciprocation. Finally, John pulled out and flipped you over, pulling you into his chest, and you’d never felt safer or more content. 

“I love you,” he said, admitted to himself and professed to you. You fell into his eyes. 

“I love you too,” you said, as you both drifted off perfectly.

SUNDAY

John glanced over, tired, exhausted to see that the clock read 5:45. Just in time to make his morning flight. You were bundled up so peacefully in his arms. The sun barely graced the sky, it being only a tinge lighter than night. John took you in. How soft you fit into him. How mesmerizing your scent was. How gorgeous you looked. How wonderful your deep breaths sounded in your peaceful sleep. He couldn’t possibly wake you up, not like this. John knew if he were to leave you, which he must, despite it feeling impossible, he must do so now. He moved slowly at first, not wanting to wake you, but as soon as he sat up, you stirred, turning over and reaching for John. 

“Whe’r’r you going?” you mumbled sleepy. John’s heart melted. He rolled back over to you, sitting up against the pillows and holding you close.

“My flight’s soon,” he whispered. 

“Hm?”

“I… I have to go, sweetheart.” That woke you up. You figured to had to as well, but your flight wasn’t until later. He couldn’t leave now, he just couldn’t. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it was, finding him, loving him, leaving him. You sat up, looking at him, fighting back tears. You wanted to yell at him, make him stop at all costs. But you couldn’t do that. He wanted you to beg him to stay just as much, because he would. But you couldn’t do that. So instead, you began to cry and held you close, and he did the same. You sniffled.

“I can’t believe this has happened. That I love you. And I love you so much,” you cried.

“I love you too, darling. I never thought this could happen.” You cried together for what seemed like an eternity. You were torn away, bound by moral and social discrepancies, and watched as he pulled his clothes back on, and held you close, giving you the deepest kiss either of you had ever felt. He didn’t say anything as he closed the door. There’s nothing he could say, that either of you could. 

And so, that morning, and you later that day, John went back home alone, as he had started.

ONE WEEK LATER

You had tried to get him out of your mind, you thought that you’d snap back into your senses or your normal life, but you couldn’t you must be sick, and your friends and coworkers all noticed that you hadn’t been the same. They’d expected a bubbly you, refreshed from a week of relaxation, but was met with a you which could barely function. You cried seemingly all the time, nothing was right without him, the world was strange and confusing. This couldn’t go on. 

***

John was absolutely miserable. Dodging the nosy questions from his band mates, his week of getting away from them made them more annoying upon his return, him more irritable, so much so that the others forced him home early after one recording, not wanting to be around him. He was consumed by this, nothing was alright, everything had changed and nothing at all, and nobody seemed to care or do anything about it. How could they? Nothing was the same and everything was wrong. After endless pestering, John broke, and spilled all (after a couple of drinks as well) and fell apart. His friends were annoyingly understanding, not even bothering to tease him. Roger, usually with an innuendo at the go, and Brian with his endless la-dee-da prose, and Freddie, the self proclaimed love expert (“You’ve only been in about two relationships, Fred,”) could even sense John’s despair that this was something deeper, nothing to joke about. And while John hated to admit it, it was them who encouraged him one day. He had to find you. They nearly shoved a phonebook into his hands as he began to scour.

But it wasn’t long. Because you had come to your senses just a bit before John, and he wasn’t too hard to find. The receptionist at the terrible little miserable studio informed John he had a guest. Coming out into the lobby, just holding back the others like a pair of rabid chihuahuas wanting to see who you were, there you were.

And you grabbed each other close. And you were together again. John cried.

“Never. Never again,” said John, kissing your hair and breathing you in once more.

“Is this crazy?” you asked for being so hung up on him.

“Yes. But I don’t care. And I’m never leaving you, ever,” he said, your lips falling together.

It was crazy. It was absolutely insane that you managed to find each other over and over again, but none of it was complicated. It was only simple, nothing purer than true love. And you never let go of each other.

ONE YEAR LATER

You giggled as John carried you over the threshold. Everything about the day, about the wedding had been perfect, and you melted into him. But John had been keeping something for you, and you had to know, you had a right as his wife.

“Mr. Deacon, will you ever tell me where we’ll be going on our honeymoon?” you asked. When you suggested different destinations in the wedding planning stage, John shot all of them down, promising he’d work it all out. As you were apparently leaving tomorrow, you had to know. John, barely tearing himself apart from your lips, hummed, and reached into his coat pocket.

“How does Bali sound?” He laughed handing you the plane tickets.

“I had a suspicion,” you smirked. 

“I am very mischievous,” he contended. You kissed once more. “You wanna go, or not?” he teased.

“Only if you come back with me.”

“Well, good thing I bought roundtrip tickets. You’re stuck with me, before, during, and after.”

“Good,” you smiled. And you always had each other, always now.

[lokiskitten]

Hiya can I request a bucky imagine where he comes across one of your sex toys (preferably a vib or dildo ;) be creative) and then you walk in on him finding it, then he decides to use it on you wondering if you can really take it etc

Bucky Barnes | adult playtime

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Author’s note : so I decided to add a little twist.. I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it ;)

plot : Bucky stumbles upon one of your intimate objects and decides to show you how to efficiently use it. However, he unexpectedly decides to switch to another method.

warnings : smut, mention and use of sex toy, Bucky using his vibranium arm for inappropriate purposes, masturbation, overstimulation.

After you had forgotten one of your belongings in his room, Bucky had no choice but to make his way to yours in order to give it back. He had traveled throughout the avengers’ compound and finally managed to find the place he had been looking for. His hand delicately moved up to the door, knuckles offering gentle taps to the wooden material which resulted in none but light knocks. Surprisingly enough, the man earned no answers. Bucky felt annoyed and frustrated, thinking about how he would have to give you your belonging back another time which would make him loose some of his own. However, no one would know if he decided to break in in order to drop the object off before disappearing behind the door again. It would only be a matter of seconds...

His hand twisted the handle, door opening and revealing the inside of your small bedroom. “y/n?..” Bucky called discreetly, wishing to double check on your presence before getting engaged into this upcoming illegal act. A sigh escaped his lips upon noticing that no one was here, a light head shake coming from the man as he dropped the book down on your desk. However, right as he was about to exit, Bucky’s eyes caught glimpse of a purple length resting on top of your bedsheets. He frowned, feeling too curious to back away as his feet were now leading him towards your bed on which he took the initiative to sit. Was that really what he thought it was?

His hands didn’t hesitate to take ahold of this object which had probably been in contact with your intimacy, his vibranium finger pressing down onto a button and allowing the man to watch the object begin to vibrate. He bit down on his gum, eyes remaining staring at your vibrator. Bucky couldn’t help but imagine how you must’ve probably used it not too long ago if it was resting on top of your bedsheets- though you could’ve never expected someone to penetrate into your room and accidentally bump into it. Perhaps you should learn to lock your doors and fear noisy intruders. Unfortunately, Bucky was caught off guard by the sound of the door opening, revealing your tired silhouette which felt surprised and embarrassed to see your friend in here, holding your vibrator.

Out of shame, Bucky desperately attempted to turn the object off by pressing onto the button again, which only resulted in him switching speeds and rythmes a couple of time before the vibrator finally agreed to turn off. “I was just umh.. you know. Giving you your book back.” He affirmed on a flustered tone, yourself barley leaving him time to place the vibrator down as you were soon to scoot until the bed and yank it out of his hand. This move led a smirk to appear on his face. Bucky admired your embarrassed silhouette. “Hey, tell me something y/n...” he began, adjusting the position he held on the edge of your bed. “You’ve been feeling lonely, huh?”

This question caught you off guard, and obviously led you to feel even more embarrassed than you previously were. It felt as if someone had written down “I’m lonely and crave sexual attention from another human being” on your forehead with the help of a black marker. Visibly, Bucky read right through you. “Whatever I am, it is none of your business, Barnes.” You responded, earning a surprised chuckle coming from the unstable being. He leant back on his palms whilst watching you put the vibrator back into your nightstand’s drawer- feeling nearly saddened face to such a turn off that was this sight. “That’s a shame.” The trained soldier affirmed seriously, blue eyes then diverting up at yours when you finally agreed to turn around. “We could’ve had some fun.”

Had Bucky just offered you to spend some intimate time with him? Out of all the males you knew, he had been the first one to do such a thing. He could tell that he had caught you off guard, and the fact that you didn’t answer straight away could only indicate you were seriously thinking of accepting his proposition. Bucky therefore decided to make a first move, and all of that whilst remaining perfectly serious. “How about you get that vibro back out, mmh? Will you, doll?” He requested, your submissive self having no choice but to allow your organism and mind to crumble under his appetizing offer. And that, Bucky could perfectly sense it. He longed to watch you squirm and clench under his touch.

As previously ordered, your hand pulled open your nightstand’s drawer before your digits could wrap around the purple sex toy to take it back out. It was a basic vibrator, but it remained efficient due to its multiple choices when it came to vibrations. You then proceeded to sit down beside your soon to be one night stand companion, teeth biting down on your bottom lip out of envy and impatience. Bucky didn’t hesitate to take ahold of the toy which he examined for a couple of seconds, blue eyes then diverting towards your head as a gentle smile appeared onto his face. “Is this really what you use to please yourself at night?” He asked, the cocky tone he used making you want to change the truth in your upcoming answer. A chuckle escaped his lips.

“Well, buttercup, let’s see what it can truly do.” Bucky finished, watching as you began to undress yourself for him and the experiences he enjoyed to lead on the human body. It didn’t take long for all of your clothes to be removed- Bucky getting rid of his upper pieces of clothing as well- and you were now laying down with your head pressed against the pillow. Your legs remained spread, knees stuck to your chest as you exposed your bare and pulsating sexe to the older man. Your core, which had yet to soak up, couldn’t appear to wait for Bucky’s touches and what would certainly come along. The man smirked, laying down beside your body as his eyes remained glued to your chest.

His free hand took ahold of the fleshy mound, lips soon wrapping around your areola which he sucked on from a brief moment before setting it free in order to focus on your cunt. A gentle moan escaped your lips, your organism simply reacting to receiving some masculine attention again after spending all this time pleasuring yourself. When the sound of the working vibrator finally began to echo throughout the bedroom, you felt your body automatically fill itself up with bliss and excitement, toes clenching as you eagerly waited for Bucky to begin to work his magic. It didn’t take long until the tip of the vibrating sex toy finally collided with your clit, gliding up and down your slit before going back up to your sensitive bud.

Bucky managed to find his way through your clitoral hood in order to properly reach for your clit, which resulted in shockwaves of pleasure travelling through your crotch and overall lower abdomen. It felt divine, yet still hard to handle and had you clench against the bedsheets. “Buck-“ you began, only to be stopped by the man himself who made sure to keep you within his strong hold to guarantee stability. He now began to rub the tip of the working vibrator in circles against your clit, being perfectly aware that it would make you feel even weaker than you already were. However, you now had grown used to the vibrations, and it didn’t affect you as much as he would’ve wished.

“Feeling anything yet sweetheart?” Bucky asked as he took the initiative to coat the tip of the vibrator in your love juice before allowing himself to slide it within your entrance. The toy vibrated against your walls, though it only started to feel nice once Bucky began to thrust the length in and out of you. “Mmh..” you responded briefly, earning a frustrated sigh coming from the working man. Persuaded that this vibrator was useless, Bucky took it out of you before turning it off and carelessly tossing it to the side, earning a rather upset state coming from your confused self. “Why’d you do that?” You asked before sensing the tip of his cold vibranium fingers come in contact with your clit. It didn’t take long for you to understand his upcoming plans.

“Mmh..” his fingers held just the right type of vibrating pace, which seemed to be growing stronger through time. Your eyelids shut close, head peacefully resting against the pillow as Bucky carried on making his digits rub and vibrate against your cunt. “Are you feeling it now?..” he asked again, blue eyes staring at your clenched face as he appeared to enjoy watching your facial expressions twitch and change. “I am..” you responded breathlessly, those words leading Bucky’s fingers to accelerate the rythme. This was seriously beginning to send you head over heels, allowing your climax to build up within your crotch as Bucky continued to willingly work his magic on you.

In the corner of your mind, you were seriously beginning to wonder if the man’s arm wouldn’t overheat and explode- but it thankfully didn’t. Instead, it carried on vibrating against your clenched core which was desperately seeking for release. It soon became too hard to handle, a burning sensation taking over your legs and sexe the more Bucky’s fingers remained pressed against your clit- offering it pats and rubs. Before you could know it, your orgasm showed up and filled your body with pure bliss, your muscles contracting and tensing up- feeling secretly grateful about the fact that Bucky was here to hold you down and restrain you from hurting yourself. Bucky’s digits progressively paced down, wishing to slowly take away the reason to why you had gone physically crazy.

“That’s it.. you can’t imagine for how long I’ve been wishing to see you purr like a little kitten for me.” Bucky revealed proudly, hand finally moving away from your sexe. “Quit wasting your money on useless toys. Save up some cash by calling my number instead.” The man advised with a wink before sitting up onto his bum, allowing you to recover from the intense overstimulation you had just been put through.

@bucky-soldat ,, you deserve to be tagged in this. I love you!❤️

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 63: Hair

After the war, after his eighth year at Hogwarts, after training to be an Auror, after quitting that soul-sucking job, and after accepting the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, Harry started to let his hair grow out. It wasn’t intentional at first, not really, he was just unbelievably busy teaching. But after a few months, his hair, which had always had a mind of its own, had grown long enough that the wavy-curls brushed his jaw.

He'd looked at himself in the mirror one morning and heard his Aunt Petunia's voice in his head, scolding him and telling him that only girls had long hair. He told that voice in his head to fuck right off and kept growing his hair out.

Not that it mattered what anyone else thought, but nearly everyone had said that his hair suited him. The exception, as it so often seemed to be, was Draco Malfoy. It wasn't as that the Potion's Professor had said outright that he didn't like Harry's hair, but his eyes were always slightly narrowed as though his hair was doing something offensive just by existing. Harry couldn’t understand it.

It all came to a head one afternoon, Harry was in the staff room grading papers and generally minding his own business, when Malfoy marched in and plopped down a pile of his own parchments on the table to mark, “Do you mind if I work here, too?” he asked.

"Not at all," Harry said, gesturing to the place Malfoy had already decided to occupy. He looked down and marked his place on the paper he was struggling through before looking up at Draco and pushing his hair out of his face.

Draco rolled his eyes and gave his head a little shake.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, very clearly looking at Harry’s wild curls.

He sighed, “Out with it.” It had been a very long day, in Harry’s defense, and he just couldn't take another minute more.

“It’s nothing,” Draco insisted, even as his eyes flicked over to where Harry’s fingers were toying with the ends of a strand of hair.

“What have you got against my hair, Malfoy?”

(Read more below the cut)

“Oh, it’s back to Malfoy is it?” he asked, voice light and teasing. “I haven’t got anything against your hair,” he repeated.

“Come on," Harry urged, "You think because your hair is cut short and is always a perfect quiff that it’s better than mine?” Harry asked, and he knew it was childish but he couldn’t stand Draco thinking mean things about his hair for one more instant. “Do you think I look like a girl?”

“What?” Draco asked, sounding startled. “Of course I don’t think you look like a girl. What are you even saying? My father always had long hair, if you remember,” Harry flushed, knowing that was indeed the case. “And while my hair does, as you said, always look perfect,” he added with a smirk, “Your hair is very nice as well. Very healthy, the curls suit you.”

Harry felt his neck grow warm at the compliment, “Then why are you always glaring at it?”

“Because you’re always fussing with it. When you’re anxious or grading papers, it seems like it’s in your way and there are a million things you could do with it so it wouldn’t hassle you so.”

“Like what, cut it?”

“No, don’t be an idiot,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Then what?” Harry muttered, petulantly pushing his hair out of his face once more.

“Like a plait, or a bun, a twist, a half bun even. There are also a myriad of products that could help you.”

Harry chewed on his lip, shoving his curls back behind his ear and thinking about what the other man was suggesting.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Draco muttered. "Here," he snapped, standing up and moving around the table near Harry.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

Draco's fingers slipped into his hair, "Trust me."

I do. Harry thought as Draco's fingers started weaving through his hair. It felt surprisingly nice, actually, and Harry found his eyes drifting shut.

"There," Draco said and Harry opened his eyes to see that he'd conjured a mirror and was holding it up for Harry to look into. He'd braided part of his hair back, clasping the hair that was always in his face and pulling it back into a barrette while the rest remained down around his shoulders.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"No problem," Draco replied carelessly as he sat back down to grade papers.

Harry went back to marking his own and they graded in silence for quite a while until Harry spoke up, "This is actually pretty nice."

"Hmm?" Draco hummed, scratching out something a student had written and writing a note in the margins.

"Having my hair back," Harry replied.

Draco looked up at him, giving him a little smile, "You have perfect hair for braids and buns, lots of volume."

"This would be good for teaching," Harry mused, "Especially on days like tomorrow when I have my older students practicing dueling."

"I could stop by in the morning before breakfast," Draco offered, "put it in a braid or something?"

"I wouldn't want to impose-"

"It's no imposition," Draco interrupted. "Honestly, I'll be glad not to watch you fiddling with it all day."

-----

And so began their tradition of Draco stopping by Harry's rooms before breakfast. Harry made coffee for both of them and they enjoyed the quiet together while Draco did something with Harry's hair.

How he would do Harry's hair each morning was always a mystery but every day when he showed him the finished result, something warm and pleased unfurled in Harry's chest.

After about a month of this Draco asked him one morning, "What's your hair care routine like?"

Harry shrugged, eye's closed as Draco's fingers worked through his curls, "shower, shampoo, conditioner," he replied. "Every other day usually."

"That's it?" he asked.

"What else is there?" Harry replied, too relaxed by the way Draco's fingers were moving through his hair to get worked up by his indignant tone.

"Potter, do you know what I did while you were training to be an Auror and all that nonsense?”

“Err? Your potions proficiencies?” Harry ventured.

“Well, yes, obviously,” he said as he tucked some hair up into what Harry suspected was becoming an elaborate bun at the base of his neck. “But I also developed potions for a beauty company. Especially potions for healthy hair.” Harry felt a hair pin sliding into place, “when Minerva offered me this position I almost didn’t take it. I had several offers from businesses who wanted to fund my research and allow me to build a brand for them.”

"Really?" Harry asked. "I didn't know that."

"Yes," he replied, "And you are literally killing me. We're going to start doing weekly conditioning masks for your curls. Spa night," he demanded. "Every Saturday."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

"I'll bring the hair care and skin care supplements."

Harry hummed, "Alright. What should I bring?"

"Dinner."

-----------

So they did. Spa nights on Saturdays and Draco every morning to do something different with his hair, and he loved every moment of it.

Harry had never been a morning person but for the first time in his life he found himself looking forward to being awake and out of bed each morning. He was happy and his hair seemed to be, too.

It seemed impossible, but Harry's hair had grown and grown and grown in the past five months since Draco had started all of this. His wavy curls reached halfway down his back by this point and Draco never seemed to tire of coming up with new ways to do his hair.

One warm Sunday afternoon in May, Harry invited Draco for a picnic and Draco had given him a pleased smile and said yes.

They found a quiet spot on a hill and ate lunch while they chatted and laughed as they watched students goofing around and generally just having fun.

"Merlin," Draco laughed as a group of second years rolled down the hill, sending up puffs of dandelions in the wind, "Were we ever that young."

"Honestly?" Harry asked, glancing over and tossing the curls that Draco had left loose over his shoulder, "I don't think so."

Draco frowned at him, "Even before you knew about Voldemort?" he asked.

Harry laughed and looked at the kids who were skipping rocks over the lake, "Especially then."

Draco moved to kneel behind him, taking down the part of Harry's hair that he'd put up earlier that morning, "Tell me about it?" he asked softly.

He hummed, "Not much to tell, really," he replied.

Draco's fingers started at the hair just above his right temple, "Tell me anyway?"

"Well this," he sighed as Draco started braiding, "Would never have been allowed. Long hair was for girls."

"Pfft," Draco huffed.

Harry smiled, "they," he swallowed, the words still somehow causing him bitter grief, "they didn't want me."

"What?"

"Just," he shrugged, "They had their own child and I was just a burden dumped on them. I wasn't allowed to be a child, I was there to do chores and not get in the way. Everything about me was wrong from my skin color, to my hair, to my eyesight, to my accidental magic."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah," he agreed, "But it was a long time ago. And I turned out alright."

"You did," Draco affirmed and Harry saw him pluck a flower from the grass beside them.

"Were you allowed to be a kid?" Harry asked.

"Sort of." Harry saw flowers zip past him and into Draco's outstretched hand. "There were things that were befitting of Malfoys and things that weren't. Anything that was appropriate for an heir of a noble pureblood house was fair game."

"Draco?"

"Mmhmm?" he hummed.

"It's been nice defying my childhood with you."

When Draco spoke he could hear the smile in his voice, "Likewise, Harry." He tied off the elaborate seven-strand braid he'd been working on and put it over Harry's shoulder to show him to flowers he'd woven in.

"Beautiful," Harry murmured, brushing his fingers over the array of flowers.

"Yes, you are," he replied.

Harry's gaze snapped up to find Draco watching him closely. "There's another way that I'd very much like to defy my upbringing with you," he ventured, clinging to every shred of Griffyndor bravery he'd ever possessed.

"Oh?" Draco asked with a little smile.

He nodded and reached out to cup Draco's cheek in his palm, "Can I kiss you?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Draco replied, leaning in and pressing his lips to Harry's as he buried his fingers in Harry's hair.

And if several groups of students caught sight of the two of them kissing on the hill, well, no one was surprised.

-----------

ahhhh! Sorry friends. This one got a bit out of control. I was just feeling a lot of feelings about Harry having long hair.

Side note, if anyone feels inspired draw Draco doing Harry's lovely flower braid (and I'm not saying it has to be @pato-roldnart but I'm obsessed with your art) I'd love that more than anything.

AHHHHH pato-roldnart did the thing! Look at this GORGEOUS art. I'm in love, please go look at it!

Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy it even though it's long! <3 Thanks for the prompt anon!

Day 62: Clothes | Day 64: Shower

[taechaos]

New Idea

pairing: Step-brother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

warnings: non-con, bondage, pseudo-incest, sadism, smut, mentions of killing

synopsis: You wished to hang out with your brother Taehyung when he wasn't home, only to realize he was better off staying away.

word count: 3.2k

It was late at night. Rain flooded outside, drops trickled down your window and puddles formed on the roads as they reflected the neon lit storefront signs beautifully. The tears from the clouds splashed against the cement loudly, and you watched the empty streets in boredom. With your cheek leaning on your palm, elbow propped up on the round wooden table across your window, you miserably yearned to feel some sort of sugar rush with a deep frown on your face. Things have been mundane, repeating the same old routines as days quickly went by. You wondered what Taehyung had been up to in the time that he’d been gone. You knew he could resolve your boredom instantly had he been right beside you.

Taehyung – your step-brother who was the embodiment of adrenaline, and was most likely awake with you right now. The man never slept, always staying up at night brainstorming ideas for what to do during the day that was no doubt just as exciting as the day before. Bags adorned his eyes that somehow fit his wild persona that never needed asking for permission to do things that were illegal most of the time. It was especially daring when having strict parents, and the only reason he wasn’t locked up in a mental institution was because he was the pride of your family with excelling grades in college that he rarely ever attended. They never approved of anything he’d done, especially not the teal hair he was currently rocking. You on the other hand, looked up to him as a role model.

What you’d do to see him right now. Sometimes he tagged you along with his adventures, such as exploring abandoned buildings and getting matching tattoos on your forearms that he chose. Despite the rebellious acts he put you through, he always defended you against your parents and got away with everything with a light scolding from his smooth tongue. Admiration wouldn’t begin to describe the amount of respect you had for him, though he was rarely ever around. Unbeknownst to you however, he never failed to go a day without pecking your cheek while you were unconscious. 

He was everything you aspired to be: a carefree soul with a creative mind and a heart filled with exhilaration. The only thing he hadn’t done was probably murder. It was a shame that absence made the heart grow fonder, because throughout the time you’d known him since your early teens, he hadn’t changed one bit with his disappearances that could go on for days. 

Taehyung never changed.

Was this what they called depression? Feeling numb and hating your life for how ordinary it was? You didn’t know, but what you knew was that you really needed Taehyung right now. It was 3AM and your parents were sound asleep in the apartment while you moped over how much you missed your step-brother’s presence. Not a single moment was dull with him, while you were too much of a coward to go through with any of your desires.

And as if your prayers were answered, a pound came on the door. The loud knock instantly gave away the person behind the door; Taehyung, who never cared for how loud he was unless he was on a stealthy mission.

Your heart skipped a beat as the door swung open and the silhouette of your step-brother entered before it was slammed shut with a lock. “You’re awake?” he asked in a whisper without moving an inch when he noticed your seated form.

“Can’t sleep,” you breathed, unable to hide the joy you felt upon seeing him in your tone. He couldn’t have picked a better time to visit you.

“Why not?” he walked over to you before kneeling. There was a smile on his face that matched yours, instantly giving away he came to your room with purpose. It was expected, for he never approached you if not to tell you about one of his newer ideas. 

“Was bored.”

“So was I,” a mischievous smirk graced his face. The street lights outside illuminated his messy hair that your hand itched to ruffle. “But I found us a solution.”

Your eyes gleamed with hope, your grin never faltering. “Tell me,” you impatiently urged, your knees already bouncing up and down with excitement.

“I’ll give you a hint: we’ll both be having fun. But you need to listen to me,” he cautioned with a raised finger. You nodded frantically, willing to do whatever he needed you to do. “Okay, stand up.”

You obeyed him and only then noticed the bag slung over his shoulder once you stood before him. “Let me do all the work, yeah? You just stand still.”

“I really want to know what it is,” you whined and bounced on your feet. 

Taehyung held onto your tits that bounced with you and you quietly gasped. “Better not be acting like this with anyone other than me. Naughty,” he scolded before unzipping his small pouch. 

“I don’t go out without a bra,” you rolled your eyes playfully. Taehyung was notorious for doing and saying things without a filter, uncaring of the effect it had on others. This was simply him looking after you without any boundaries, because he never set any with you.

He pulled out a duct tape from the mystery bag. “Turn around and hold your hands behind you.” You complied without protest, the ripping of a duct tape resounding in the room as he tore it with his teeth. He taped your wrists together like cuffs before facing you again by the pull of your shoulder. 

Confusion washed over you, but not a trace of fear. “What’s this about?”

“Now go lie down,” he ignored you and nodded at your bed. You sat on the center, your sheets already rumpled from all the tossing and turning you’d done in an attempt to sleep. His figure loomed over you and your heart raced in anticipation. “Don’t move, okay?”

You silently watched him with piqued curiosity as he pushed you down. The soft mattress dipped under your weight and you didn’t move a muscle until you felt him tug at your flannel pajama pants. “Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” he ignored you again and you furrowed your brows as he undressed you. “You’re going to like it.”

Without a single clue of his intentions, you expected him to change your pants after he took them off, but definitely didn’t expect him to aim at your panties next. The second he held onto the hems, you crawled away from him and repeated more firmly, “Taehyung, what are you doing?”

He yanked you back to him by your ankles. “Don’t you trust me? You said you’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t think I want to do this,” you strained and tried to pull your knees to your chest, but he tightened his grip on your ankles.

“It’ll be fun, just sit still,” he spoke airily, his tone unbothered compared to your worried one. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Once you felt somewhat reassured, you relaxed your legs and lied back down. The discomfort swallowed you whole when he undressed your bottom half completely. The chilly air hit your bare legs and left goosebumps in its wake.

“You shouldn’t be shy about being naked with me,” he chuckled and tapped your pussy carelessly. You yelped and bent your knees again. 

“Taehyung, this isn’t right,” you stressed and clenched your thighs together. You were growing wary about this ‘idea’ and you weren’t sure whether his pupils were dilated because of the dark anymore. He could be high. “Let’s try something else, please.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he scoffed and spread your thighs apart, hovering over your loins. “You’re going to love this, just calm it.” He grabbed the duct tape again and tore off a smaller piece before placing it on your mouth, making your efforts of leaning away fruitless. Your voice was muffled behind the sticky tape as you shook your head. “Don’t make me tape your legs too,” he warned as you tried pushing him away. He sat on your knees as he began unzipping his washed denim jeans, ignoring your babbling.

“Been watching a lot of porn lately,” he began casually as tears brimmed in your eyes. “I usually find it boring, but I came across a video that I couldn’t resist reenacting. Plus you were bored too,” he defended, “it’d be mean if I spared my little sister of this fun.” 

You didn’t know whether he was joking or not, but you were ready to start crying if he was actually doing what you were thinking. You sighed in relief when he reached for his pouch for a pair of scissors. It had to be a joke then–

Taehyung began cutting your shirt from the middle, and you whimpered when your tits were on full display. Your nipples hardened as a result of the exposure, and tears immediately began streaming down your face mixed with muffled sobs.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” he exclaimed, “we’re not related by blood. It should be fine.”

When you continued crying, he said, “I’ll take off my shirt too, if it helps.” He heaved his t-shirt over his head, his firm chest hard to make out in the midnight dark. “I was thinking kissing would ease you into it, but only if you’re quiet.” Your cries grew louder instead. He sighed exasperatedly, “You can be such a crybaby sometimes.”

He started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and you whimpered at the feeling. You were ticklish and though you were completely terrified, the kisses were a bit soothing. “This is me being nice to you, because oh boy, that guy in the video was a fucking monster,” he laughed while going down the valley between your breasts. A finger flicked your nipple while his other hand rubbed over your folds. “Want me to eat you out first? You’re not wet enough.”

You shook your head in refusal, so he merely shrugged and began circling your clit instead, his fingers now pinching your nipple. His mouth latched onto your other nipple and he swirled his tongue around the areola, clashing pleasure with pain. The rain drowned out your involuntary moans but Taehyung caught them anyway; it wasn’t hard to miss when your arousal began coating his hand. He released your nipple with a pop and locked eyes with you. “You’re enjoying this? Not gonna lie, I was expecting you to cry longer but... you're a little slutty, aren't you?” He slapped your pussy experimentally and smiled when you moaned loudly. “Keep this up and I might just take off the tape.”

For a moment, he wondered if this was why people enjoyed sex so much; your moans were like music to his ears and your body was making his cock throb even more. He could really get used to this, he thought as he slapped your pussy over and over, the sound echoing in the room along with your high-pitched whines.

“Shit, I need to record this,” he mumbled before reaching for his phone on his back pocket. Your protests went to deaf ears as he began recording your pussy and spanked it, the microphone picking up all your sounds of pleasure. Once it reached the one-minute mark, he threw his phone on your pillow and took out his erect length from its restraints, giving it a few pumps as the tip oozed with pre-cum. “I never thought fucking you would be this easy. Thought about it every time I touched myself.”

You went quiet at the revelation and he smirked at your raised brows. “Why are you surprised? Whenever I’m home, you come hug me with your bare tits pressed up against me. Not that I’m complaining of course,” he chuckled hotly. “Want me to kiss you now?”

When you didn’t respond quickly enough, he ripped the tape off of your mouth without mercy and your eyes teared up at the pain with an ouch. He didn’t waste a second in enveloping his lips with yours as he cupped your pussy, smearing his pre-cum on your labia. He swallowed your moans as his mouth moved vigorously, tongue meeting yours as he explored your cavern. The smacking of your lips caused you to clench your hole, the sound arousing to your ears as you kissed him back.

“You going to stay quiet for me?” he murmured against your lips, his cock poking at your hole teasingly. You hesitated but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl,” he praised with a grin and lightly pecked you before properly positioning himself.

The reason why Taehyung was so eager to have sex with you wasn’t just because he was horny, but also because really wanted it to be your pussy that he fucked first, and maybe second, and third. He was a virgin who watched too much porn when he wasn’t outside, and now that you were 18, he thought it to be the perfect timing for you to lose your virginity to him like he’d imagined when he was 15. 

Due to his experience, he didn’t ease into your pussy and instead shoved his cock entirely. You screamed and he instantly put a hand over your mouth. “Too much?” he asked with a strained voice. His cock was just begging to be thrusted into you, but he couldn’t have you screaming and waking your parents. When you nodded with eyes shut in pain, he groaned to himself. He was twitching inside you, and after a few seconds, he began moving.

You were crying and bitching again, but he paid no mind to it as he pressed his hand onto your mouth while gently slamming his hips into you, his courtesy for now. You'd adjust sooner or later, but the stretch was excruciating; your walls stung and you started to bleed on him.

"Oh fuck," he giggled sadistically once he noticed the crimson fluid, "that didn't happen in the video." He gazed into your glossy eyes before quickening his pace, growing rougher. "You're crying again; what's new?"

Taehyung was laughing as he was moaning, but you couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded and you were struggling to breathe through your nose as he fucked you relentlessly. 

“I kind of feel bad for you,” he panted with a sinister smile. “Does it still hurt?” He took your sobs as a yes. “Poor baby,” he cooed with a pout before moving his free hand to your clit. “This might help.” You were struggling with your bound hands, but you couldn’t move your legs because of how much it hurt. Your fighting was useless, and your body was growing numb except for the thumb that made it less painful.

Taehyung removed his hand from your mouth to hear your moans clearly. Whether it was from pleasure or pain, he didn’t know, but he loved it. He wanted to be the only one to see you in this state. He’d gauge out any eyes that got to see you naked and stab any ears that got to hear your pretty sounds.

But it was a little difficult to savour it when he was reaching his climax so soon; damn inexperience and the low stamina that came with. He had enough self-control to pull out of you to finish himself off with his hand. He missed the warmth and tightness of your pussy and how it kept clenching down on him quickly, but it had to come at a cost – not cumming inside you.

“You fucking monster!” you yelled hoarsely, eyes blurred with tears and face covered in tears.

“Too loud,” he sighed and forced your mouth open to shove his length inside. “Try anything, and I’ll fucking kill you.” His cock was heavy on your tongue as you gagged on it every time he thrusted. It wasn’t long before he released in your mouth and you choked, swallowing his cum without a choice. Another loud moan erupted from him as his hips stuttered while gently slamming into you for the last time.

“Fuck,” he exhaled before collapsing on you with his palms holding up to not smother you completely. “Shit, you’re such a good fucking girl.”

When he raised his face from your shoulder, you spat on him. He laughed hysterically before wiping off your saliva from his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, damn.”

“You’re the fucking worst Taehyung,” your voice wavered as you insulted him. “I hope you rot in hell. I always saw you as my role model, but now I understand why everyone fucking hates you.”

“Sheesh,” he snorted, “I told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I? It might hurt now, but it’ll feel a lot better when we do it again.”

“If you try-” he cut you off by going down on you, taking his clit into your mouth and immediately emitting a moan out of you. “Stop, stop, stop,” you chanted in gasps, trapping his head with your thighs and contradicting your words. He chuckled against your swollen pussy, making it feel even better and yet worse. This euphoric sensation wasn’t what you needed after being traumatized by your own step-brother, but it was what your body wanted after getting a taste of his tongue. 

He was slurping up your juices and spitting on your folds before abusing your clit again. The bastard knew how to distract you from your newfound grudge, but you weren’t going to forgive him after your orgasm. Your hips moved against him on instinct as his tongue ran up and down your labia. A knot formed in your stomach, your tears long forgotten as you became more persistent in riding him in this awkward position. He heaved your thighs over his shoulder to take full control, and with his vigorous sucking and pulling, you came undone with a spasm.

“Feels good, right?” he asked rhetorically and fell limp next to you.

“I’ve never hated someone as much as you,” you seethed while recovering from your high.

“You’re going to tell me that wasn’t fun? No way,” he stared at you in disbelief.

“You hurt me,” you sniffled and covered your face.

"I'm sorry princess," the nickname felt foreign on his tongue as he held your arm. "I'll leave forever if you want me to."

He hummed when you stayed silent with a runny nose. "I'll clean you up and go, okay?"

"No," you huffed. "You become my slave for a whole month."

"You want me to stay home with you?"

You nodded while rubbing your eyes with your fists. "You can't do that and just leave, and I hate you but I miss you."

Taehyung resisted the urge to squeeze your cheek and coo. He knew you'd regret asking him to stay, but he wouldn't say no to spending time with you 24/7.

Chuckling through his nose, he said, "I miss you too." He traced the tattoo on your forearm, a minimalistic mockingbird with an arrow slicing through the middle. He picked it because it represented you; an innocent little thing who didn't even look down at her wound, only focused on flying back to Taehyung, a hawk that waited with open arms - ready for his meal.

If you wanted him to stay, then that's what Taehyung would do. You'd fallen for his trap twice, the third wouldn't be so bad. He'd make sure you enjoyed it this time.

[fanmoose12]

friday, i’m in love

“Before becoming an official member of our gang, though, you need to do those four things."

"Alright," Hange nods, listening intently.

"First!" Isabel raises her index finger. "You need to punch Zeke in a face, but I'm sure it's bound to happen."

Hange giggles, getting excited. "What's next?"

"Second, you need to skip a class, and you've already done it, so!" Isabel clasps her shoulder. "Congratulations on that one."

Farlan pats her knee too, and Hange shows them a proud smile.

"Third, you need to smoke at least one cigarette."

"I can't," her smile falls, as Hange briefly shakes her head. "I have asthma."

"I'll do it for you then," Farlan offers, walking to the other side of the rooftop to do just that.

"And the last thing! The most important one!" Isabel makes a dramatic pause, shifting her gaze to Levi just for a second, before looking back on Hange with a mischievous smile. She winks and lowers her voice, making sure that Levi doesn’t hear her.

"The last condition - you have to kiss one of us."

For the most kids her age, moving to a different town and changing schools is a fate worth than death. And, while Hange is a little saddened to say goodbye to the friends she made at her old school and more than a little saddened to leave her dad behind, she is also excited at the prospect of starting a new life.

Changing schools means she can meet new people, and meeting new people means she can make new friends.

And Hange, unlike most of her peers, isn't afraid of change. She welcomes it actually, preferring new experiences over dull and repetitive routine.

They move to a new town and to a small two-story house in the quiet suburbs. It’s a little different from the house they used to live before, a little quieter too, but it’s lovely. Hange likes it instantly. She’s ready to call it a new home.

The first couple of weeks are awfully busy. Hange and her mother unpack their things and buy new furniture. They meet their neighbors and her mother starts making new friends.

Hange can’t wait to meet her new friends at school too.

And so very soon, the long-awaited day comes.

***

When it finally does, Hange is brimming with excitement.

She puts on her glasses and dresses in her favorite clothes that was washed and ironed by her mother the evening before, ties her hair in a ponytail, grabs a lunch box that was waiting for her on a kitchen counter, kisses her mother's cheek, yells "love you!" right into her ear, making her wince and push laughing Hange away, hurries to hop on her bike and makes her way to the school.

She makes a new friend in a face of one Moblit Berner approximately three minutes and forty six seconds later after crossing a threshold and passing below a banner that read Sina High School.

Moblit is a nice and friendly boy, even if a bit quiet and timid, compared to her. Although, Hange also has to admit that compared to her, almost everyone seems to be quiet and timid.

Moblit is incredibly kind and he offers to show Hange around the school. He agrees to walk her to every class and even draws a small, but very detailed map for her.

During lunch, Moblit remains by her side. As they slowly eat their food, Hange points at random students who pique her interest and Moblit shares with her his opinion of them.

"That's Erwin and Mike," Moblit says, when Hange asks him about two blondes that sit in the very middle of the cafeteria. "Erwin is president of a debate club, also his father works at our school, he's a history teacher. Mike is a captain of a football team. They're nice guys, and Erwin is always ready to help, if you struggle with a class. Although, he's not that good at math..."

Hange nods, absorbing the information and committing it to memory. Her gaze lingers at Erwin and Mike for a few more seconds, before it moves on to a next target, this time two petite redheads.

"Ah, Nifa and Petra," Moblit fondly smiles. "They're both cheerleaders. Petra is also a member of a drama club, and Nifa helps me manage a biology club."

"Biology club?" Hange lights up, carelessly tossing her sandwich onto the table. She can’t believe her luck. She loves science and was the president of a chemistry club back in her old school. She didn’t dare to hope that the new school would give her an opportunity to continue pursuing her passions. "Can I join?"

"You really want to?" Moblit asks, biting his lip. Doubt is written all over his face. "We don't have a lot of members..."

"Of course, I want to!" Hange exclaims much louder than she intended to. As a result, she attracts attention of some students who turn to look at her. Some seem curious, others - annoyed. Hange pays no mind to either. She grabs Moblit by the shoulders and stares deep into his eyes. "I'm so excited already! When is your next meeting?"

"This Friday..."

"Awesome! Expect me to be here!" she clasps Moblit's back, almost making him choke, and then sweeps her gaze across the cafeteria, looking for someone interesting.

"There!" she points at the girl with long, dark hair that sits in the far corner of the room with a blonde boy by her side. "Who is that?"

"That's Pieck," Moblit answers. "She's involved in a drama club too, although she mostly just helps with painting the backgrounds for the scenes. And that's... all I know about her. She's nice, and I think she's dating Porco, or, maybe, Porco is dating Reiner, or, maybe, Reiner is dating Berthold... sorry," he rubs his neck in embarrassment. "I don't really pay attention to that kind of stuff, and their relationship is pretty complicated."

"Don't worry," Hange pats his arm. "I get confused with that kind of stuff all the time. Now! Who is that?"

Her finger points at a bespectacled guy with blonde hair.

Moblit's face twists in disgust. "That's Zeke Yeager. He's the biggest jerk and bully of our school. Try to stay away from him, and—" he nods at the redheaded boy sitting next to him. "And his pal Floch. He's even worth than Zeke."

Hange wants to ask more about them, but then she notices a boy, who sits in the furthest corner of the cafeteria.

Hange is sure that wearing leather jackets is prohibited in this school, but this boy doesn't seem to care. He is dressed in a white t-shirt and a big, black leather jacket. His hair is black too and the longer strands of it obscure his eyes. But even that can’t hide the fact that the boy is wearing a displeased, irritated expression. Hange wonders about the reason for the sour face.

"Hey!" she points her finger at him. "Who is that shorty?"

"Shh!" Moblit hurriedly lowers her hand, his eyes widening in panic. "Don't point your finger at him! And, for the love of god, don't call him shorty, Hange! Better yet, try not to talk or even look at him."

"Eh?" Hange frowns. "What do you mean? What's wrong with that guy?"

"That's Levi Ackerman," Moblit says, lowering voice to a hushed whisper. “Those two are his best friends – Isabel and Farlan,” he shows Hange a small redheaded girl and a tall guy with white hair that sit next to Levi. “And you should never mess with them."

"So they’re worse than Zeke and his friend?"

"Much worse," Moblit confirms, his eyes grim and serious. "Everyone says they’re a part of some gang. They say that Isabel is a thief, and Farlan is an arsonist. And Levi Ackerman…” Moblit purses his lips, a shadow of fear flushing across his face. “Once he broke Mike's jaw for calling him a midget, and some say that he had killed a man with his bare hands just for pouring out coffee on him. Whatever happens, try to stay away from the three of them, Hange."

"If you say so..." Hange murmurs. She takes a bite of her sandwich, continuing to stare at the dark-haired boy. Suddenly he looks up, and Hange almost chokes.

His eyes bore into hers with a surprising intensity. They are cold and grey, like the edge of a knife.

Hange lifts her lips in what she hopes is a friendly smile.

Levi Ackerman scoffs and looks away.

Hange continues watching him, waiting for their eyes to meet again. They don’t.

But as Hange leaves the cafeteria, trailing after Moblit like a little lost duckling, she can't get the look he had given her out of her mind.

Levi Ackerman... What an enigma.

  ***

It is Friday afternoon, and the sun is gently passing through the already yellowing leafs. The warm light paints the world in golden colors, making it seem more warm and welcoming.

Hange, however, has no time to enjoy the beauty around her. It is Friday afternoon, and she is running late.

She was so excited for the first biology club meeting, that’s the only thing she could think about for the whole week. She gathered all the science projects she had done at the old school and she prepared a small presentation for other club members and she even thought of a few suggestions to expand the club, which, as she understood from Moblit’s words, was quite small.

All this work, all these preparations and now she is running late, because she stayed after class to talk with Mr. Smith and forgot about the time.

And, to make matters worse, she is lost. The part of school she finds herself in is completely unfamiliar to her, and she can’t quite understand how she got here in the first place.

Cursing herself, Hange takes out a map Moblit made for her, tracing the drawing with her index finger and muttering Moblit’s instructions under her breath.

“Go to the second floor, take the first turn to the left and then walk to the end of the hallway…”

A second later it dawns at her – she is in the wrong wing and on the wrong floor.

Muttering another curse, Hange turns around and rushes to the stairs. Holding the research notes she wrote the night before to her chest with one hand, she keeps Moblit’s map in front of her eyes, checking it after each turn she takes.

She is just about to enter a hallway that leads to the biology classroom, when she collides with something. Stumbling, she falls down, her papers flying around.

She blinks a few times, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. Moblit didn’t draw anything that would prepare her for the obstacle that caused her fall.

She slowly looks up. In front of her, seemingly larger than life is a pair of steely grey eyes.

Levi Ackerman, Hange realizes immediately. He is on the floor too, right next to her. And he doesn’t seem too pleased about it.

She gulps. For the first time in her life, Hange doesn’t know what to say.

“The hell you’re wearing those glasses for?” the boy growls, getting up. “Watch where you’re going, four-eyes.”

“Ah, sorry!” Hange exclaims. His rude, throaty voice does a great job of pushing her out of stupor. “I’m just new at this school, and so I got little lost, but, thankfully, my friend Moblit drew me a map, and that’s why I didn’t look where I was—”

“Jesus,” Levi groans. “Shut the fuck up. Give me that shit.”

Before Hange can protest, he snatches the map out of her hands. His eyebrows form a line as he studies the small drawing.

And suddenly Hange remembers what Moblit had said about Levi Ackerman and his warnings to stay away from him.

Once he broke Mike's jaw.

These words ring loudly inside her mind. She had seen Mike in the hallways, he is quite a large guy. And Hange, despite being quite tall for her age, isn’t nearly as big as him. If Levi is able to break Mike’s jaw, what can he do to her?

Hange never had her jaw broken before, so by all accounts it should be a new experience for her. She likes new experiences. But she also likes her jaw and the prospect of having it broken… isn’t all that exciting.

Still sitting on a floor, Hange watches the boy warily.

“You’re looking for a biology class, right?” he asks after he finished studying the map.

“Yes,” Hange nods cautiously.

Suddenly she remembers a girl she used to play with at the playground near her old house. The girl had broken an arm once, after falling off a swing. She screamed and cried and then her mother took her to the doctor, and when she came back, she couldn’t play with little Hange anymore, because her arm was in a sling and she couldn’t move it for almost a whole month.

And that was just an arm. Hange can only imagine how much a broken jaw would hurt. She really isn’t that keen on finding out.

“Of course, you’re a nerd, how I didn’t guess it before,” Levi mutters, as he starts to walk away.

Hange stares at his back, wondering if the storm had passed.

Evidently, it hadn’t – Levi turns around. He arches his eyebrow, looking at Hange quizzically.

“Did you hit your head or something, four-eyes? Get up, I’ll lead you to the class. You’re in the wrong wing, idiot.”

Hange is still confused – wasn’t he going to beat her up? But then she remembers the reason for this whole mess.

“The meeting!” she cries out, hurriedly gathering the papers that are scattered across the floor.

As she kneels on the wooden floor, picking up the papers, Levi’s words finally register in her mind.

“Wait!” she looks up at him. “You said I’m in a wrong wing again?”

“Well, aren’t you slow,” he deadpans. “Here,” he hands her the last one of her papers. For a second, their fingers brush against each other, and Hange finds out that in contrast to his eyes, Levi’s hands are warm. But before she can decide if his skin is soft or not, Levi pulls away, turning around. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“You’re… going to lead me to the class?” Hange clarifies, cautiousness returning to her face.

“That’s what I said, right?” Levi starts to walk, not looking back at her. “Or is your hearing as shitty as your eyesight?”

“Not really,” Hange chuckles, following after him.

Levi Ackerman isn’t going to beat her up. She is almost certain.

  ***

“Hange, you’re here!” as soon as she enters the classroom, Moblit is beside her. “I thought you forgot about our meeting!”

“How could I?” Hange grins, easing his worry. “I was preparing the whole week for this! I just got a bit lost on my way here, sorry for being late.”

“You got lost? How did you find us then?” the petite redhead walks up to her too. 

Not the redhead – Nifa, cheerleader and Moblit’s friend, Hange remembers.  

“You used my map, right?” Moblit asks.

“Eh, no,” Hange rubs her neck, feeling a little shy. “Levi helped me get here.”

“Levi?” Nifa’s eyes widen in surprise. “As in the Levi Ackerman? The scariest guy of our school?”

“I guess?” Hange answers. “He was right there—” she opens the door to show Levi to Nifa and Moblit, he couldn’t have left far away, he had walked her to the door, after all, but unfortunately – the hallway is empty. She turns back to Moblit and Nifa with a helpless chuckle. “And he already left…”

“Are you sure that was Levi?” Moblit narrows his eyes a fraction, looking doubtful.

“I…” before she can reply, Hange remembers that she didn’t actually ask for his name. But those grey eyes… they can’t belong to anyone else. At the same time, Hange senses that no matter what she is going to say, neither Moblit nor Nifa would believe her.

And it doesn’t matter, not really. After all, they have a more pressing matter on their hands right now.

The vast and enigmatic world of molecular biology.

She clasps her hands together, attracting attention of the two boys, who stand at the other side of the classroom. They look up and Hange smiles, making a mental note to introduce herself to them later.

She unzips her bag, taking out her laptop and gathering her notes. “I’ve prepared a small report!” she announces, opening the first slide of her forty minutes long presentation.

   ***

It is a nice day. Despite the calendar showing that it is already October, the weather is warm enough to mistake it for the end of May.

The sky is clear and blue, the apple Hange is eating is juicy and sweet and her conversation with Moblit is engaging and fun.

With a bright smile on her lips, Hange lifts her face up to the sky, squinting against the blinding light. The sunbeams dance across her skin, kissing her cheeks and nose with their gentle warmth.

It is a nice day. But then a shadow obscures her view of the sun.

Hange opens her eyes, frowning at the sudden intrusion.

Next to her, Moblit falls silent. In front of her, Floch and two of his friends smirk, looking down on them.

"Get lost, Zoe," Floch tells flippantly, sparring her no more than a single glance. "Your boyfriend and I need to have a little chat."

Hange feels her chest fill with rage.

"Like hell I would!" she raises to her feet, fists clenching in anger.

In a month she spent at Sina High, she learnt a lot about Floch. She learnt that he is stupid and simpleminded, cruel and cowardly. Most of all, he is a bully.

Hange hates bullies with all the fierceness of her heart.

She had her fair share of taunting and mockery before. The kids made fun of her for wearing glasses, for having a large nose, for being too loud or too weird. Hange knows that the only one way to deal with endless jabs and sneers is to fight back. And over the course of her sixteen years of life she got amazingly good at it.

"Hange—" Moblit whispers, grasping her sleeve desperately. "Hange, please, do as he says."

"No!" Hange declares, glaring fiercely at Floch. "I'll stay with you, Moblit."

"Your mistake," Floch huffs, the smirk on his face growing wider. Behind his back, his friends flex their fists. "One nerd or two, what does it matter? I'll easily deal with both of you."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hange warns, narrowing her eyes at him.

Getting into a fight isn't anything new for her. Unfortunately, having her ass kicked isn't anything new for her either. Even so, she isn't going to back down.

Hange braces herself, raising her fists and putting her left leg behind her for support. Watching Floch closely, she wonders where he would hit first. Her left or right cheek? Her nose or jaw? Or maybe, he'd go to the legs first? Hange doubts it, Floch doesn't seem to be that smart.

He raises his fist and Hange closes her eyes, preparing herself for the sharp sting of pain.

It never comes. Instead, a shadow appears in front of her again, this one much darker.

A second passes, and nothing happens. And then she hears Floch's feeble whimper.

Hange gingerly opens her eyes.

Holding Floch's fist in his hand, Levi Ackerman is standing before her, his wide back, as always, clad in black leather jacket.

"What's the matter, Floch?" he speaks in a low voice. "Got tired of picking fights with middle schoolers?"

Floch doesn't answer, his eyes turning wide, and Levi twists his arm, throwing him on the ground.

"Get the fuck out of here," he spits out, turning away as though just the sight of Floch disgusts him.

Not needing him to tell twice, Floch shoots to his feet and runs, his friends following after him.

Hange watches them with deep sense of satisfaction. She would prefer to make Floch leave with the use of her own fists, but that— that is nice too. And totally painless.

"We should go as well, Hange," Moblit mumbles, tugging insistently at her shirt.

"You go first," Hange answers, not taking her eyes off Levi. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Hange..." Moblit's quiet voice is disapproving, and Hange turns to look at him, curving her lips in a smile. "I'll be right behind you, don't worry."

"Just be careful," he instructs at last, before grabbing his bag and walking away.

With Floch and Moblit gone, Hange is left alone with Levi.

Or... not.

As Hange looks around, she realizes that Levi had left too. By now, his dark figure is nothing more than a small dot on a horizon. Hange hurries after him.

"Hey, hey, Levi! Wait!" she desperately tries to catch up with him. Levi doesn't slow down.

"Go away, four-eyes," he mutters without even looking at her.

Like hell she would.

Hange speeds up and in a matter of seconds, she reaches Levi. Huffing and painting, she struggles to keep up with his confident stride. But she doesn’t give up.

"Hey— hey, I just—" she inhales, then swiftly exhales. "I just wanted to ask," another deep breath, this one's much shakier. "Why did you help me?"

Levi stops long enough to turn around and throw her a dark look. "I didn't."

"You did!" Hange persists. "For the second time!"

"Leave me alone," he scoffs and starts to walk again.

Naturally, Hange follows after him. Levi passes the main entrance to school and heads to the side door.

He's going to skip a class, Hange realizes.

She has never skipped a class before. How exciting!

"It makes me think," she continues talking as though she didn't hear his last words. "Maybe, you're a bit misunderstood. I don't think you're as scary as everyone thinks you are."

"I'm much scarier," Levi mutters, moving up the stairs.

He is going up on a rooftop, Hange guesses. Again, she has never been on a rooftop before. Double excitement!

"And if you don't wish me to show you how scary I can be, I advise you to leave me alone."

"Nope," Hange smiles, not moved by his threat. She almost has him figured out. Levi Ackerman, the presumable gangster and the most fearsome student of Sina High isn't quite as terrible as he appears to be. "You won't hurt me."

"And why the fuck not?" Levi grunts, pushing the door to the rooftop open. He tries to shove it in her face, but Hange is faster, and she passes the threshold before he can push the door closed.

"Because you're nice," Hange easily answers.

"I'm really not."

Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Levi walks up to edge of rooftop and plops down on the floor. Hange sits next to him. She turns her head around and watches the grand blue sky above her. At the sight of it all, breath catches in her throat.

Paying her no mind, Levi takes out a pack of cigarettes and puts a stick into his mouth.

He lifts a lighter, when Hange speaks.

"Can you smoke later?" she asks carefully. "You see, I have asthma..."

Levi curses under his breath. He sighs and puts the cigarette down. Hange beams.

"I was right after all," she bumps her shoulder against his. "You are a nice."

"I'm going to push you off the edge," he promises darkly. Hange's smile doesn't falter.

"Don't you have to be in class?" Levi questions. "Why are you bothering me?"

"You're nice," Hange repeats. "I want to be your friend."

"I don't."

Hange snickers. As if she would give him a choice.

They don't speak after that. Hange, still smiling, returns to gazing up at the sky, lazily watching the movements of clouds.

Levi seems to be slowly coming with the grips that to get rid of her he most probably would have to act on his threat and push her off the edge. With a sour expression, he braces his hands against the railing and stares at the ground below.

The silence, surprisingly, is pleasant and comfortable. It is broken by the sound of the door opening. Hange turns around, and sees Levi's friends - Farlan and Isabel - climb on a rooftop.

As they notice her, their faces brighten up.

"Levi!" Isabel runs up to him. "So you finally gathered enough courage? I'm so proud of you!"

"Izzy," Farlan takes her by the elbow, just before she can latch herself onto Levi. "I don't think he has."

"Eh?" Hange shifts her gaze from Farlan and Isabel to Levi. Something is going on, but she can't pinpoint what exactly.

"Shut up," Levi barks at his friends. "Four-eyes just decided to follow me up here, and now I can’t get rid of her."

"I just wanted to thank you," Hange grumbles, crossing hands on her chest and pursuing her lips in a pout. "For saving me from Floch and his friends."

"Oh!" Isabel's eyes lighten up. She jumps to Hange's side. "Big brother saved you?" she asks with a dreamy smile. "Levi, that's so—"

"Shut up, Isabel," he growls. "I'm not joking."

"Killjoy," Isabel whispers, throwing him a dark look.

Farlan takes a sit next to Hange, offering her his hand. "I'm Farlan," he says with a friendly smile. "And that’s," he gestures to the girl. "As you may have gathered, is our friend Isabel. Nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Hange answers, shaking his hand. "I'm—"

"Hange," Farlan interrupts. "Yes," he briefly glances at Levi, his eyes alight with amusement. "We know."

"We should be friends!" Isabel announces, throwing her arm around her shoulders.

"I would like to," Hange replies. "But Levi doesn't seem to agree."

"Pay him no mind," Isabel waves her hand. "He’s just naturally that grumpy. As for Farlan and me, we’re ready to accept you in our ranks. Before becoming an official member of our gang, though, you need to do those four things."

"Alright," Hange nods, listening intently.

"First!" Isabel raises her index finger. "You need to punch Zeke in a face, but I'm sure it's bound to happen."

Hange giggles, getting excited. "What's next?"

"Second, you need to skip a class, and you've already done it, so!" Isabel clasps her shoulder. "Congratulations on that one."

Farlan pats her knee too, and Hange shows them a proud smile.

"Third, you need to smoke at least one cigarette."

"I can't," her smile falls, as Hange briefly shakes her head. "I have asthma."

"I'll do it for you then," Farlan offers, walking to the other side of the rooftop to do just that. Levi, who still holds a pack in his palm, doesn't join him, not moving from his place next to Hange.

"And the last thing! The most important one!" Isabel makes a dramatic pause, shifting her gaze to Levi just for a second, before looking back on Hange with a mischievous smile. She winks and lowers her voice, making sure that Levi doesn’t hear her.

"The last condition - you have to kiss one of us."

   ***

After that first time on the roof, their friendship progresses rapidly. Hange starts hanging out in the mall with Isabel, playing basketball with Farlan, skipping classes and walking home with Levi.

And very soon she finds out the truth about her new friends. Isabel isn't actually a thief, Farlan isn't an arsonist and Levi, obviously, has never murdered anyone.

Those rumors are just that - rumors.

"But what about Mike?" Hange asks.

The four of them are sitting side by side on what Hange likes to call their place - up on a rooftop of the school. Their shoulders are pressed tightly against each other, and their feet are dangling off the edge. The light from a setting sun reflects in her glasses, making her squint. On a scale of perfect days, this one is pretty close to the top.

In response to her question, Levi groans. Isabel and Farlan start laughing.

"I'm afraid that's another rumor," Farlan explains to the confused Hange.

"Although, Mike did break a jaw once," Isabel notes with a crooked grin.

"But not by me." Levi grits through his teeth. "That giant idiot got drunk and fell down the stairs. And because he was too embarrassed to tell the truth, he blamed it on me."

"So, you just let him do it?" Hange stares at Levi with raised eyebrows. "Didn't do anything even though he lied about you?” Levi nods and Hange smiles. “I stand corrected then, you're nice."

"I'm serious, four-eyes," Levi growls, sending her one of his meanest looks. "One day, I'll push you off this roof."

Hange throws her head back and laughs. Isabel and Farlan join her.

 ***

"Well, let's start our meeting, shall we?" Hange rubs her hands in anticipation, excited to tell her fellow club members about a study she recently found.

But before she can turn on her laptop and put on a new presentation, Nifa grips her elbow.

"It's all very thrilling," she smiles.

"It really is," Moblit nods eagerly.

"But we wanted to know something else."

Hange blinks a few times, and then feels color rise to her cheek. She suddenly realizes that in the past two months she was always the one to lead the meetings. It is quite understandable that Nifa wants her turn.

"Of course, if there's something you wish to share, we all gladly listen, Nifa."

"Oh no, I don't wish to share anything. On the contrary, there is so something I want to ask you."

The bright, enthusiastic look in her eyes is intriguing. Hange wonders what is it that Nifa wants to know - is it about a thesis she made last week? Or a week before that?

"I'm all ears," Hange promises, taking Nifa's hands into hers.

"So how does it feel," Nifa begins. "To date the most dangerous boy of our school?"

It takes Hange an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize who Nifa is talking about.

"Levi?" she breathes finally. "But we aren't— we aren’t dating! We’re just friends!"

Nifa plucks her lips and looks at Hange with suspicion and disbelief.

"But you're always together," she notes, staring at Hange through narrowed eyes.

"We're really not," Hange counters easily. "We just hang out sometimes."

"You skip classes with him. And he walks you home."

"And he saved you from Floch that one time," Moblit, the goddamn traitor, adds.

"And you're the only one he talks to, beside his two best friends." Nifa concludes with a confident smirk.

Hange looks from Moblit to Nifa, feeling at a loss of words.

It's not that she has never thought about it, she did sometimes, when Levi walked her home, and their hands brushed against each other, or when they sat on the roof together, their shoulders touching. Levi is handsome, even Hange - as bad as her eyesight is - knows that. But she also knows that Levi thinks she's messy and annoying. The hell would freeze sooner than he'd look at her like that.

So despite her frequent heart palpitations and leaps in breathing levels, Hange ignores her little crush, putting it to the furthest shelf of her mind.

Being friends with Levi is good enough. She doesn't wish for more.

And that's exactly what she tells to Moblit and Nifa.

"You're reading into things," she chuckles, dismissing their claims. "And now, it's time to read into something else!" she turns on the first slight of her presentation.

Moblit smiles and takes out his notebook. Nifa groans.

***

It's one of those days, when the world is bleak and grey, and the heavy clouds reign across the sky.

Looking out of the window, Hange feels an infinite sadness that isn't entirely caused by gloomy weather. For a second, she even debates skipping school at all, her mother probably wouldn't be against it, but Hange gets rid of that thought fairly quickly. It's not who she is, and wallowing in self-pity was never the way she dealt with her problems. Besides, the classes will provide an excellent distraction for her unhappy thoughts.

So Hange gets dressed, puts her hair in the usual ponytail and leaves her room. She greets her mother, who doesn't look quite as lively as she usually does, and kisses her cheek.

"I'll be home at five," Hange says quietly and walks outside.

The wind ruffles her hair, messing it up even more. It gets in her face and Hange pushes it away with a jerky movement of her wrist. She moves past her bike, deciding to walk to the school on her feet.

There are lots of things on her mind, and a lengthy stroll presents a perfect opportunity to think all of it through.

Hange walks through the grey, foggy streets with her head cast down. She stares at the ground, but not even an occasional sight of a sleazy worm is enough to lift her mood.

She reaches the gates of a school, when someone grabs her elbow.

Startled, she looks up. Levi is standing beside her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his frown more prominent than usual.

“Nothing,” Hange lies, avoiding his sharp eyes.

Today they don’t remind her of the knife’s edge. Today, Hange thinks, they look just like a sky before a storm.

“What’s your first class?”

Levi stands close to her, too close. People are going to talk, Hange can’t help but think. But Levi doesn’t seem to care about it.

“English,” she answers, staring at her feet.

“Let’s go then,” moving his hand from her elbow, Levi grabs her by the sleeve of her hoodie. He starts walking, dragging Hange along. And because her eyes are still cast down, Hange doesn’t notice that they aren’t headed to a classroom until it’s a little too late.

Of course, Levi leads her to the roof.

He sits her down and looks at her expectantly. Hange shifts her gaze to a side. Under Levi's intense stare, something stirs inside her. There is worry in his eyes, Hange realizes. This revelation makes butterflies in her stomach slowly come to life.

Hange tries her best to ignore them.

"I'm fine, really," she repeats. She doesn't know who she's trying to fool - Levi or herself. She doesn’t achieve success with either of them.

The harsh wind is stronger on the roof, it blows through her hair, gets under her hoodie and sips deep in her bones. Hange suppresses a shiver.

"Idiot," Levi mutters, following it with an irritated tsk. He unzips his jacket, takes it off and drapes it around her shoulders.

Heat rises to her cheeks instantly. She feels incredibly warm and she knows that the jacket isn't the reason for it. The butterflies, despite her best efforts, happily flutter their wings.

"You'll catch a cold..." she whispers weakly. Levi is wearing a thin grey pullover and Hange can only imagine how cold he must be.

"Ackermans don't get sick," he says confidently, making Hange snicker. The corners of his lips twitch and he gently nudges her. "So what happened, four-eyes?"

Hange looks up, staring at the horizon. The skies seem even darker up there, and she briefly wonders how much time they can spend here until the rain starts and a need to hide from it forces them inside.

She wraps the jacket tighter around herself, and the sharp scent enters her nostrils. It smells like soap and cigarette smoke. It smells just like Levi.

Hange glances at him, and his stare is unwavering as he waits for her to start talking.

Hange sighs and begins.

"It's my dad," she confesses softly. "He's... getting married next week. And—" she chuckles, meaning for it to sound easy and cheerful. It comes out bitter and hollow instead. "I found out about that from his post on Facebook. He didn't invite me, didn't even tell me about this. I know— I know that he has a new family now. And I know that I probably remind him of the time when he was married to my mom, and I guess it wasn't a great experience for either of them, but still... he threw me out of his life so easily. It makes me sad, I guess."

"It's his loss," Levi says. "If he doesn't realize it, then he doesn't deserve you."

"Levi..." Hange whispers, aghast. She expected him to ignore her whining, or call her pathetic, but this… Hange doesn’t what to think. The warm feeling inside her is almost too much to bear.

"I know I'm not the best with words," Levi admits, while Hange is still busy processing his last ones and how good they made her feel. "But I can call Isabel, if you wish. Or that Berner boy," he adds with a tight-lipped expression.

Hange smiles, touched by his offer. But she talked it through already, last night with her mother. Today, she needs something else.

"Can we stay like this, please?" she asks, looking at him beneath her eyelashes.

"Sure," he agrees easily. And then— Levi does the unexpected again. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer. Her nose is pressed against his collarbone, and the butterflies go wild.

Hange pays them no mind. Levi is warm and he smells nice. She hides a smile into his shirt.

The sadness she felt throughout the morning disappears. With Levi's arms around her, Hange feels impossibly happy.

***

 It's almost seven in the evening, and the streets are already dark when Hange leaves the school after another biology club meeting.

The alleyway next to the school is dimly lit, so Hange almost misses a figure that sits on one of the benches. She stops as soon as she sees that dark silhouette, though. Despite the poor street lighting and her own imperfect eyesight, Hange recognizes him instantly. And wonders what is he doing there.

Levi walks her home every day, except Fridays. Fridays are club meeting days, and Hange often leaves the school late in the evening.

Levi never waits for her on Fridays.

So why is he here now?

Hange silently walks up to him, approaching him with a bit of caution. Levi sits weirdly, his shoulders seem too stiff. Her stomach churns with worry.

"Levi?" she softly calls. "Levi, what are you doing here?"

"Hange," he keeps his eyes trained on the ground, and Hange's worry increases. She doesn't like the hollowness of his voice.

Then she lowers her gaze, and the worry skyrockets. Levi's hands— they are covered in blood. She gasps and grabs his chin, turning his face to the light. A bloodied lip, a bruise on a cheek - Hange swears when she sees them.

"What happened?" she is instantly by his side, taking his hands into hers. She brings them closer to her face, looking for injuries.

"Zeke." Levi says.

"He's the one who did all of this to you?"

"Of course not," Levi throws her a sharp, offended look. "He just brought more friends than I could deal with."

"What a fucker," Hange mutters, anger warming up inside her. "Let's go to my place, I'll clean your wounds."

"And what about your mother?" Levi bites his lip. "Won't you get in trouble with her, if you bring me home, looking like this?"

"She has a night shift," Hange stands up, outstretching her hand to Levi. "And besides," she continues. "I’m sure my mom would adore you,” she winks at Levi, grinning. “Just like I do.”

***

Hange brings Levi home and tends to his wounds. She cleans his skinned knuckles and wipes the blood from his lip.  She tries to be gentle, apologizing over and over each time Levi winces. Every time he hisses or grits his teeth, the anger inside Hange grows bigger and bigger. She swears to herself that she won’t let Zeke get away with it.

When she starts wrapping bandages around his knuckles, her hands shake and tremble.

She wants to think that her inexperience is to blame, but she knows that the reason for her nervousness is Levi's warm breath on her cheek and his eyes that follow her every move.

Hange stares into them for a second. They look nothing like a knife's edge right now. They don't remind her of a sky before storm either. They're the color of a full moon. They're shining just as brightly.

"You're wrapping them too tight," Levi complains, breaking Hange out of her reverie.

"Oh, sorry!" Hange giggles, embarrassed. She hurries to rectify her mistake, but ends up making even a bigger mess, tangling up the bandages.

Levi sighs and snatches them out of her hands.

"You're shit at this," he says, bandaging his knuckles himself.

Hange snickers and watches him, committing each move to memory. She hopes she won’t need this knowledge in the future. But in case she does, next time she wants to be able to help.

“You can stay for the night,” Hange offers when his injuries are cared for. “We can put on a movie, make some popcorn…”

“Maybe, some other time,” Levi gently declines. “My mom probably worries like crazy. I should get home, before she sends Kenny after me.”

His refusal disappoints Hange a bit, but she doesn’t take it personally. She knows how much Levi cares about his mother. And she knows how much he hates causing her worry.

So she makes him promise to hang out tomorrow and walks him to the door.

"Thank you," Levi tells her, standing in the doorway.

"I didn't do anything..." she tries to protest.

"You did more than enough,” he says, the grey of his eyes softening. “Goodnight, Hange.”

“Goodnight,” she echoes, watching him go with a heavy heart.

  ***

After that Friday, Hange lets her anger brew for a whole weekend.

On Monday, she comes to school and seeks out Zeke. His friends stand around him, as she approaches, but Hange pays them no mind. She marches up to Zeke, grabs him by the collar and punches him in the face.

His loud shriek and a pathetic whimper that follows are absolutely priceless.

"That's for Levi," she glowers, before walking away, a smirk on her lips and her head held up high.

She gets sent to detention for that, but Levi calls her an idiot with a fond smile on his face, and Hange thinks it was all worth it.

He gets into a fight with Floch the very same day, and during detention they sit side by side, exchanging silly notes and making funny faces at each other.

"Just one condition left," Isabel tells her the next day, winking suggestively.

  ***

It is another Friday night, and Hange is engaged in a losing battle with her calculus homework. No matter what she does, what formula uses, nothing seems to work.

Her eyes are getting tired from glaring at her notebook, and Hange rubs at them, suppressing a yawn. It’s a little past ten, but she already feels exhausted, drained to the bone.

She thinks of just abandoning it all and going to sleep, when a small rock lands on her desk. Hange blinks a few times, utterly confused.

How did it get here?

She scratches her head, trying to make sense of it. A second later, another rock appears.

Hange looks up, turns to the window— and smile breaks on her face. She squeals in delight, jumping to her feet and coming to grip the windowsill.

Levi is sitting on a branch of a tree that grows near her house. He wears his signature jacket, and he’s looking at Hange with the expression of fond annoyance that he reserves exclusively for her.

“Took you long enough to notice me,” he grumbles. “I was thinking of aiming the next rock at your stupid head.”

Hange laughs, not taking his words to heart. She knows Levi well enough by now to see through his insults and sarcasm.

“Are you free right now?” he asks, before Hange gets her chance to question what is he doing up on a tree.

“It’s Friday night and I’m sick of doing my homework, so…” she shrugs. “I am as free as I can be.”

“Alright. And your mom? Is she at home?”

“She is, but she’s already asleep.”

“Get out then.”

“Eh? What does that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Levi scoffs. The confused expression doesn’t leave her face, so he rolls his eyes and adds, “I stole the keys to Kenny’s bike. Do you want to take a ride on it or not?”

Hange feels her lips twitching. She wants to say ‘yes’ so badly, but for the sake of messing with Levi, she puts on a doubtful frown.

“Won’t you get in trouble with your uncle?”

“Only if he finds out.”

“Will he be able to find out?”

“Most certainly.”

"And you still wanna do it?" she asks, just to see the exasperated look Levi throws her.

"Of course," he answers through his teeth, his patience starting to run thin.

"Alright!" she finally agrees. She jumps and clasps her hands together, unable to contain her excitement. "Just wait a sec, I need to change my clothes!"

Levi nods, throws ‘don’t take too long’ and starts climbing off a tree.

Just as she promised, Hange gets ready in record time. She jumps out of the window, landing next to Levi with a pained huff.

"Are you alright?" he steadies her, his eyes shadowed with worry.

"Sure!" Hange assures him with a smile. "The landing was just a bit rougher than I expected."

"You could have left through the front door, like a normal person." Levi notes.

"But where is the fun in that?" Hange counters.

Levi shakes his head and curses her idiocy under his breath. Hange claps his shoulder and chuckles.

"Shall we go?" she raises her arms to tie up her hair.

"Don't." Levi blurts out suddenly.

Hange stops in her tracks, gawking at him. "Eh?"

"Leave it like that," his voice is rough and breathy as he speaks. Levi turns his face away, and Hange desperately wishes to know what it looks like right now. She bets it’s all red and flustered. "When you wear your hair down... It’s not a bad look on you."

Hange can't believe it. Did she mishear? Misunderstood something? Or did Levi really just pay her a compliment?

Now it’s her turn to be flustered. She feels her face redden. Her heart starts to hummer in her chest.

Levi doesn’t give her enough time to process, and, of course, to retaliate. 

"I parked the bike near your house," he walks away so briskly, it's hard for Hange to catch up.

When she does, Levi is already standing next to a shining black motorcycle. Hange knows next to nothing about motorcycles, but, in her opinion, the thing looks cool. She runs a hand over it, and her excitement almost makes her feel dizzy.

She has never ridden a motorcycle. But she is sure it's quite a thrilling experience.

"Put that on," Levi instructs, handing her a helmet. "And hold on to me, alright?"

"Of course!" Hange mockingly salutes.

"Don't do anything stupid, four-eyes," he glowers before putting a helmet on his own head and getting onto the bike.

Hange waits for him to sit down and then she follows his suit. She wraps her arms around Levi, fisting her hands into the lapels of his leather jacket.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice muffled by a helmet.

Hange nods, pressing her head to his shoulder.

Levi starts the motorcycle and carefully rides onto the street. He maneuvers out of the narrow path and onto the broad road. He speeds up after that and Hange can't hold in a delighted chuckle. She raises her head and looks around.

The streets they pass by are nothing more than a blur of bright lights and vivid colors, and Hange can't stop staring at it all. To make the experience even more electrifying, she's pressed so close to Levi that she can feel his heartbeat. Or, maybe, that's an echo of her own. Their proximity makes it hard to tell. She also feels incredibly warm, having her arms wrapped around him makes Hange forget about the harsh wind that seems even stronger as they ride through the night city.

Levi obviously has a final destination in mind, but Hange doesn't care, not right now, when she is filled with so much joy and elation.

She feels so free, she feels so good, so happy, she is so—

"I swear to god, Hange!" Levi shouts over the wind. "If you're thinking of dangling your arms in the air or some equally dumb shit, I'm going to throw you off this thing myself!"

Hange laughs, wild and unbridled.

She is so in love.

*** Levi brings them to the beach.

As soon as he stops the engine, Hange gets off the bike and runs to the sea, kicking away her shoes as she goes. She steps into the water and yells, instantly jumping out of it. The water is freezing, but Hange is stubborn. She wants to try again, hoping that her body would adjust. Before she can take a single step in that direction, though, she is roughly yanked back.

She turns around and meets Levi's sizzling gaze.

"Sit the fuck down," he growls. "Or you wish to get pneumonia?"

Hange can't help it - her heart swells and her stomach tingles.

Levi, despite his dark, scary eyes and scowling face, is surprisingly endearing. He's so cute Hange wants pinch his cheek. Desperately so.

And because she's still filled with adrenaline after their ride, or, maybe, the dark sea and quiet night have an effect on her, Hange does just that.

Levi slaps her hand away a second too late. She laughs, and, to placate him, finally sits down, burying her feet in the sand.

Levi takes a seat next to her. A second later, something heavy and warm falls over her shoulders. Hange touches it with her fingers - it's Levi's jacket.

"It's cold," he explains gruffly, answering the silent question in her eyes.

"Thanks," Hange smiles, and, because she still feels inexplicably bold, she puts her head on his lap.

Levi startles, his whole body goes rigid, but he doesn't push her away, doesn't even complain. After a moment, he relaxes - his hand falls on her shoulder and his fingers starts playing with her hair.

It's nice, Hange thinks. She wishes to stay in this moment forever.

She turns to look at the sea - the stars and moon are reflecting in the darkness of the water, illuminating a narrow path. She points her finger at it.

"I once believed that if you follow that path during full moon, you'll become a mermaid," she tells Levi.

Levi snorts. "You believed in something so stupid? Why am I not surprised?"

"What ridiculous thing did you believe in?"

Levi is silent for a long moment, and Hange thinks he's not going to answer. She opens her mouth to change the topic, but then—

"I believed in Santa until I was thirteen years old."

"What?!" Hange shrieks, rising up from her position to gawk at Levi. "You're serious?"

"Unfortunately," he grunts, pushing her back on his lap. "Kenny put a very convincing show. It's not until I caught my mom hiding presents under a Christmas tree that I finally realized the truth."

Hange really, really tries to keep it in, but she imagines the disappointment on Levi's face and absolutely loses it. Laughter bubbles out of her throat, and Hange curls in on herself, laughing without abandon. Her stomach starts to hurt, tears well up in the corners of her eyes, and Hange still continues to giggle, expressing her mirth until she can't breathe anymore.

"Oh god, Levi," she wipes the tears away. "This is the best thing I've heard in weeks."

"Glad you are having fun on my account," he says dryly.

Hange starts laughing again.

When she finally calms down, the silence falls over them.

It's so quiet there, the only sounds are faraway noises of the city and the loud roar of the sea that accompanies the crashing of waves against the shore.

All of it makes Hange feel at peace in a way she rarely does.

After minutes of staring at the seemingly endless sea and basking in the atmosphere of it all, she tears her gaze away from the it, shifting her eyes to Levi. And finds out - he is looking at her too.

His stare is intense, charged with something she can't quite name, something that makes it impossible to look away.

As their eyes meet, Levi swallows. His hand in her hair stills, and he starts to slowly lower his face to hers. Hange lifts her head too. The tension around them is growing, and Hange forgets how to breathe until— until it hits her.

"Of course!" she cries out, jumping up. She hits Levi's jaw with her forehead, but doesn't pause long enough to fully register it. She can't spare her attention to anything else, the math problem she tried to solve for so long— she finally found the solution.

"Levi!" she seizes his shoulders, staring at him with wide, feverish eyes. "We need to go back, quick!"

"What—"

"I realized how to solve it!" she gets to her feet, pacing around and impatiently waiting for Levi to stand up as well.

"Solve what?" Levi grimaces, looking like he has eaten a sour lemon.

Unfortunately, Hange is too preoccupied with her sudden revelation to notice his expression or even answer his question.

"Way to ruin the moment," he mutters before standing up and walking back to the bike, his face as dark as the sea. ***

It's the last Friday before St. Valentine's Day, and everyone at their school starts going crazy.

Hange is spending lunch with Nifa and Moblit, but their sandwiches lay forgotten, as the three of them curiously watch Porco's pathetic attempt to ask Pieck out. He keeps stuttering and his face is so red, Hange is worried he might pass out, but then Pieck smiles and kisses him on a cheek. Cheers and congratulations are heard from all sides of school cafeteria.

"So it's settled then?" Hange turns to Moblit. "Porco and Pieck are actually dating?"

"I guess..." Moblit tentatively agrees.

"I saw Reiner and Porco kissing the other day," Nifa interrupts.

"And I saw Reiner and Berthold hold hands on their way home," Hange mutters, taking a bite from her sandwich.

"I'm not sure," Moblit rubs his neck. "But I think I caught Pieck making out with Yelena the other day."

"So it's still complicated," Nifa mournfully concludes. "At least, their love life is more interesting than mine..."

"Speaking of love," Moblit quietly begins. Both Hange and Nifa whip their heads to stare at him. Moblit's cheeks turn pink, but he stubbornly continues to look at Hange. "I wanted to ask if..."

Whatever he wanted to ask, Hange doesn't get a chance to find out. Because in the next second, a shadow flashes past them. It appears by her side and drapes a leather jacket over her shoulders.

"It's too cold today," Levi explains, as he sits down next to her, inserting himself between Hange and Moblit.

It's not cold at all, and, besides Hange is wearing a warm pullover.

But that's not the only thing that confuses her. What is Levi doing here? Why is he sitting so close to her? And why is he glaring at Moblit?

"Why are you here, Levi?" Hange decides to start with the easiest question.

"Can't find Farlan and Isabel," he answers flippantly, not taking his eyes from Moblit.

Now that's most certainly a lie. Hange can clearly see Isabel and Farlan sitting in their usual spot, in the furthest corner of cafeteria. And even if she didn't turn around to locate them, Isabel's delighted cackling is heard even from a distance.

"It's best if I go," Moblit says, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"I'll go with you," Nifa offers, taking her trail.

"We are just friends, my ass," she angrily mutters, throwing another exasperated look at Hange and Levi.

Hange turns to Levi as soon as her friends leave, she really, really wants to know what the fuck had just happened, but she opens her mouth in the exact moment that a bell rings.

Levi wordlessly gets up and disappears in the crowd of students. He forgets to take back his jacket.

  ***

As Hange moves from class to class, everyone keeps staring at her. It’s not bad kind of attention, no one whispers insults behind her back, Erwin actually approaches, offering sincere congratulations, and when she meets Zeke’s gaze in the hallway, she sees a spark of fear there, and it fills her with a deep sense of satisfaction, but— it also makes her confused.

Why did Levi give his jacket to her? Why did he give her his jacket so many times before? Why has she never seen Isabel or Farlan wear it? What makes her special?

Hange always enjoyed solving riddles. She is determined to find a solution to this one as well.

  ***

After her last class, Hange rushes to the rooftop. Just as she expected, Levi is there. And, luckily, he’s all alone.

He’s smoking, but as soon as he notices her presence, he puts the cigarette out and waves his hand, getting rid of the smoke.

Sitting beside him, Hange shoots him a grateful smile.

“So did you know about the dance they’re organizing this weekend?” she begins, skipping the pleasentries and small talk. As she speaks, she tilts her head to the side to stare at Levi’s profile. In the light of a setting sun, he looks even more handsome. Her heart picks up its speed. She ignores it and forces words out of her throat. “Do you wish to go?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hange wonders, not saddened by his answer at all. She was expecting nothing else, after all.  “Just imagine – me in a dress and with shitty, smeared lipstick and you in a shirt and tie… We’ll be dancing in a stuffy auditorium, drinking spiced punch and having fun with our peers…”

Levi visibly shudders at her words. “I’d rather jump off this roof.”

Hange snickers in her palm. “And if I go with Moblit?” she asks, watching Levi with a sly smile.

“I’ll throw him off this roof.”

That’s exactly the answer Hange was expecting. Even so, her heart does a flip and her breathing speeds up. Her cheeks feel hot and a wide grin is pulling on her lips. The scariest part is over, but the nerves don’t die out. There are still a few questions she needs answers to.

“And if I asked you out to the movies…”

“That’s not a bad idea…” Levi mumbles, keeping his eyes trained on his feet.

Hange gathers the last of her courage.

“And if I kissed you right now?”

Her heart stops, as she nervously waits for a reply. Millennia pass before she hears Levi’s gruff voice.

“That’s… a very good idea.”

He turns to her, staring at her and the intensity of his piercing gaze makes Hange weak in the knees. There is a moment, where nothing happens, but it lasts for no longer than a heartbeat. Then Levi cups her cheek and moves closer, his lips hovering above hers.

Hange closes her eyes and shortens the small distance that separates them.

The kiss is short, chaste and more than a little bit awkward. Even so, it’s the first kiss in her life and Hange lets her lips linger on Levi’s for a little longer, savoring that moment and committing it to her memory.

When they pull apart, Levi doesn’t let her go. If anything he brings her even closer, bumping their foreheads together.

His eyes are warm and soft, and Hange isn’t sure if she had seen anything more beautiful. But then she lets her eyes wander, slipping lower, and she sees a smile that blooms on his face. She can’t decide what she likes to stare at more – his eyes or his smile. After a second of intense debating, Hange comes to conclusion that both his eyes and his smile are equally breathtaking.

She thinks of asking for another kiss, when she remembers something just as important.

“I finally did it, Levi!” she loudly announces, throwing her hands in the air. “I fulfilled the fourth condition!”

Levi pushes her away with a groan. “Why must you always ruin the atmosphere…” he wonders with a deep scowl on his face.

To be honest, Hange liked it better when he smiled. But, luckily, now she knows a sure way to placate him.

With a gentle smile on her lips, she pulls him closer for another kiss.

[halloweenhoneylover]

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you. 

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

——— 

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call.  (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously. 

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye. 

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again. 

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

——— 

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings. 

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

——— 

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled. 

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good. 

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence. 

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled. 

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation. 

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Cry Little Sister

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, verbal threats, gaslighting, both reader and Peter are high school students, kinda slight incestuous undertones (the characters aren't related, though).

Words: 2214.

Summary: Your adopted older brother is not as nice as he seems, but no one is willing to believe you.

P.S. And yep, I used one of my favourite citations from Grishaverse in the end of this story. Hope you enjoy!

__________

"Peter, sweetheart, I knew you'd make it!" Your mother had clasped her hands together while your father patted Peter's shoulder. "The best test results in the whole class! My goodness, we need to celebrate it!"

You smiled at them tiredly, seeing the faces of your parents practically glowing. True, Peter was a damn smart guy. You had never achieved such high results despite all those nights you spent studying, while he didn't care much about it at all, it seemed. You hadn't seen him with a book yet.

"I'm gonna bake an apple pie for you." A smile of your mother made you feel bitter, and you averted your eyes, missing an odd look your older adopted brother sent you.

Half a year ago he finally came to live with your family once your parents finished gathering all the papers and waited for almost a year to receive "the call". You remembered how you had jumped happily in the living room along with your mom, believing it was finally over. Well, maybe it was over for Peter, but for you it was only a beginning. You could hardly imagine the sweet skinny guy who you considered very shy and bashful would change so drastically.

It started very subtle. First, Peter was trying to be helpful, assisting you when you did the housework - he was actually way better at cooking and cleaning than you and easily got praised by your mom. You were truly thankful to him for his help, especially since it was easier to get to know him while working together. It was then when you first spotted the odd looks he was sending you when he thought you didn't see. There was something... uneasy lingering in his gaze. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but sometimes Peter made you shiver with the way he spoke or touched you discreetly. It was strange. Of course, the boy didn't do or tell you something that would make you worried, but you just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. You blamed it on the fact you couldn't get accustomed to a new life with an adopted brother yet. Surely, it wasn't supposed to be easy?

But the more you spent time together, the stronger that feeling got. Despite Peter becoming a part of your family as easily as if he had always been your parents' son, you were wary of his sudden urges to touch you and always keep you in his sight. At first you thought he was just touch starved and needed human warmth. Maybe for Peter it was just easier to come to you rather than your parents since you were almost the same age as him.  But then... one day you saw him going through your things and taking one of your lipsticks from your makeup bag. You suddenly remembered losing a lip gloss two weeks ago.

Trying to voice your concerns, you talked to your mom who was so insensitive she went to speak with Peter right away. Of course, he said it wasn't true and you had probably misunderstood him since he only wanted to borrow a pen. He even showed his table and wardrobe to demonstrate he didn't hide anything.

From that time Peter had changed. He didn't hide his unhealthy behavior from you anymore, and he was scaring you with the things he had done, keeping an eye on you when you were around and stalking you if you were not, never staying far away aside from the time he had to be in class.

Of course, he sensed that you were becoming resteless, less and less eager to spend time with him, blaming it on lots of homework or sudden meetings with friends. You weren't blind to his frightening affection - if you could call his feelings like that. Why was he doing it? Despite spending only several months living with you, your parents loved him dearly, paying him twice more attention than you. You had never protested against it, knowing a poor soul like him who didn't have his own family needed all the help he could get now. But this... this wasn't alright. This wasn't a feeling siblings should have for each other. Did Peter consider you one? Did you truly consider him your older brother? You weren't sure. Nevertheless, it still didn't feel right.

Carefully, you attempted to talk to your father about it, vagualy wording your concerns and giving him little details - sure, you didn't like how Peter was behaving, but he didn't deserve to be banished from your family and sent back. You still believed something could be done to set everything right. Maybe the boy just didn't realize things were not supposed to work this way in a family. However, your father laughed it all off. He said little girls like you were thinking too much of themselves lately, claiming the whole world was obsessed with them. Peter simply tried to be a good brother and look out for you.

You had never felt more humiliated in your entire life.

Dropping all attempts to bring Peter's unhealthy behaviour to your parents' attention, you decided there was just one thing to do - separate yourself from him completely.

No more doing the housework together, no more chats in the kitchen in the morning, no more having lunch together at school, no more cuddles in the evening. You kept yourself as busy as you could - in the morning you did jogging, at school you spent time with your friends, in the evening you were taking your books and doing your homework in the park, at your friend's place or anywhere convenient. Even though Peter tried following you, you had started to change places all of a sudden to keep him away from you.

This was when he had enough of you distancing yourself.

Suddenly, Peter fighted for affection of your parents with such ferocity as if you tried to strip him of their love. His gradea were suddenly way better than yours - he claimed he had finally felt safe in his new home and could spent his energy elsewhere. The way he behaved was even more sweet than before. On the other hand, strange things started happening to you: once your mother found your expensive satin blouse torn and blamed it on you and your carelessness; the other time the chicken you cooked was so salty it ended in a trash bin; your friend received threats coming from your phone number, though you had never ever sent anything like that to her.

It was easy to guess who was doing this to you, but Peter never admitted it out loud. Talking to your parents was worthless, too, as in their eyes the boy was a pure blessing. How could you blame him for things you did to catch their attention?

Shit. You knew something was wrong with Peter, but you could hardly imagine to what extent he could go to have his way. It was unbelievable a boy like him could manipulate people so easily, wrapping them around his finger. Why was he doing it? Everyone already loved him. Everyone but you.

"Y/N!" Your mother's sharp voice broke the silence, and you hurried downstares, finding your mom near the washing machine with a wet black sock in her hands. "Are you out of your mind?! Did you put your black socks in there when I said to bring your WHITE clothes?!"

"But I didn't!" You gawked at her, knowing perfectly you only brought her what she asked you to. "I swear I didn't!"

"Oh yes, of course, it's Peter who went through your dirty clothes to incriminate you, dear." She sneered at you. "You have to come up with a new excuse, this is getting old. Look what you've done, my white jeans are ruined!"

"Please, mom, I-"

"Go to your room. I don't want to see or hear you." She snapped, tossing the sock to the floor as you stared at her in horror. She had never been so irritated like in the past month when your "slip-ups" were happening more and more often.

Racing upstairs, you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying not to cry. Why was he still doing it to you? Why did Peter want everything to be like he wished? Why did your parents never believe you? It was you who was their true daugther, for God's sake!

Locking the door, you fell down on your bed, burying your head in your soft pillow. It started to become unbearable. Why was this all happening? Despite your growing hate towards Peter, you couldn't say that he was ugly and unpleasant. He was easy on the eyes and could be really nice to people around him, and it made Peter quite popular among the girls at school. Why on Earth didn't he set his eyes on anyone other than you? There were plenty of girls who'd be willing to date him and give him as much attention as he wanted.

You wiped away your angry tears with your pillow, biting on your lower lip. It was unfair, and you weren't going to give in to him just because Peter wanted to play with you like a spoiled child. You'd find a way to prove you weren't guilty of all those things he wanted to pin on you, you just needed to gather yourself and think properly.

Suddenly, you heard someone knocking on your window and rushed to it immediately: your room was on the third floor. Seeing Peter sitting on the bench of a tree, you gasped in shock. You opened the window right away, praying for him to stay still.

"Are you out of your mind?" You whispered in horror, holding out your hand to him. "What are you doing there?!"

He smiled at you like nothing was happening, taking your arm and crawling towards your window. In the next moment he was already inside your room, grinning like a kid and shutting the window behind himself. You furrowed your brows, your heart racing. Peter was insane!

"What if you slipped?" You asked him furiously. "Are you mad? Do you want to die?!"

"No, but you wouldn't let me in your room unless I came in the window." He admitted carelessly and smiled, reaching out to you and enveloping you in a hug. "I'm glad you don't want me to fall."

"You're out of your mind, brother." You grunted, trying to push him away, but his grip was only becoming stronger. "What are you doing? Let me go, please."

"But I want a hug from you. Is it so bad?"

You clenched your teeth, watching him angrily. "You just made my mom scream at me for that stupid sock. You think you deserve a hug?"

"I only did it because you're stubborn. It's your fault I had come to this, Y/N." His sickly sweet smile made you nauseated as you put your hands on his chest in attempt to keep him away. "Come on, why have you been acting so cold? I just want to be a part of your family."

"Are you serious?"

Your eyes could burn a hole in his face as you stared at him, getting more and more angry with his behaviour and trying to blame you for his own actions.

"This isn't like it should be in a family, Peter. We're siblings now. Siblings don't do it... l-like that." You felt your face growing hot as you became deeply embarrassed, knowing how your words could be interpreted.

"But we're not siblings, are we?" He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his dark eyes at you and smiling widely.

You growled in irritation, still unable to get rid of him holding you like a doll in his hands.

"If you don't want me to be your sister, what family are you talking about, then?"

"We'll, it's not the only family I can have with you, right?"

You stilled, unsure you understood what Peter meant as he chuckled with content, watching you getting more and more confused while he gently caressed your back. What other family he could possibly mean?

It took you a few seconds to realize he was talking about marriage between you two.

Your eyes popped out of its sockets. Was he fucking serious? That kind of family? No, he should have been out of his mind completely. He definitely had to see a psychiatrist or something!

"You're joking, aren't you?" You muttered, shocked. "You can't be serious!"

"But I am, sister." Peter's sweet smile was slowly turning sinister as he leaned closer to you, dropping a kiss to your temple as you shivered against him, wanting nothing but get away. "And you better stop with that silly attitude of yours if you don't want me to get real angry."

"And what are you going to do if I don't? What if I will tell everyone about this?"

He smirked, touching your forehead with his and closing his eyes for a second.

"I see you still don't understand." Peter whispered to you, watching you getting more and more nervous. “I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no one but me.”

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight

[meigh-day]

Color Blind (Tsukishima x Reader)

Title: Color Blind

Pairing: Tsukishima x Reader

Warnings: None just tooth rotting fluff

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.4k

———————————————————–

Imagine all your life you see shades of grey. You learn to love the shape of things or how they feel or smell rather than their color. You've been told that, someday, if you fall in love with someone and it's returned, you'd get to see color. Then, they said, you'd understand what all the fuss was about. But you're happy with the way you've learned to love things. Learning to appreciate the texture of a flower petal or the way each one sways in a warm summer breeze. You loved the way your favourite sweater felt against your skin, the way it warmed you when nothing else could, whatever color it was you were sure it had to be your favorite.

And you were right, it was your favorite color because it was the same color of his eyes.

Though you had no idea that you'd meet him running such a mundane errand like groceries but there he was, tall and handsome, illuminated by the cold lights of the frozen food aisle.

You stood awkwardly to the side, watching as he pulled a box from the shelf, then hesitate before putting it back and grabbing another. It was only as he was tossing it into the cart that he saw you, hands fidgeting with the handle of your basket. He glanced at the now closed door behind him and then back at you before speaking. "Sorry, am I in the way?"

You reply with a questioning hum before your brain catches back up and you realize the handsome stranger is staring at you but more than that is talking to you. " Oh! Uh, yea but no rush." "I'm all done here anyway." He gives you a little smirk before pushing his cart along and exiting the aisle. From the corner of your eye you could swear he paused just before the end of the aisle but there could have been a hundred different reasons for that. You were quite certain that you hadn't been the cause, but it would be nice to be wrong.

After that initial encounter you saw him again the following week and the one after that too. In fact when you saw him a fourth time, once again brought together in the frozen food aisle, you couldn't help but laugh. Out loud in fact, the sound of which had him turning towards you. The expression on his face when his gaze landed on you could have been mistaken for excitement but you chalked any enthusiasm to general surprise.

"We really need to stop meeting like this." You laugh out, not bothering to wait for him to move as you reach into the open door. "Hm, I suppose you're right." He murmured just loud enough for you to hear, the words stinging a little more than you expected. You place the item in your basket and turn, offering him up an apologetic smile before stepping away from both him and the cold air of the unit. "Uh, see ya." The words tumble out as you try and shuffle away, already feeling like a huge idiot for saying anything in the first place.

"Hey wait up!" He calls out, closing the distance in a couple of strides. "Do you want to go get coffee or something with me?"

You can't help but gawk up at him as his words process through your mind. "Like, now?" "What?" He laughs. "No, I was thinking maybe tomorrow if you're free." You felt your cheeks heating up but you weren't completely sure if it was because of embarrassment or that fact that you just got asked out on a date by the handsome grocery store stranger.

"I'd like that.... Uh..." You falter and he realizes why. "Tsukishima Kei." He offers you a smile along with his name.

That coffee date led to another which led to a date at the movies and then a dinner date that concluded with a walk in the park and a kiss.

About three weeks later you wake up and notice just how bright your room seemed to be. Maybe it was the dull throb in your head, a result of another late night talking with Tsukishima on a video call. A video call that you had fallen asleep on and had several screenshots taken, one of which may or may not be a certain someone's phone background. Yet, as you looked around the room, you felt your entire body freeze. Your once grey world was teeming with life and color. For several long seconds you just sat on your bed, awestruck by how beautiful it all was. You ran your hand over the familiar texture of your blanket, eyes finally lowering to see the path your fingers took over the fabric, mesmerized by the colors that were woven together in such a beautiful pattern. You weren't sure how much time had passed but all of a sudden you realize someone has been knocking at your door. "Coming!" You call as you hurry across the living room, swinging the door open to a slightly irritated looking Tsukishima. His expression softens when he sees you, cheeks damp with tears. "Are you ok?" He asks gently as he moves towards you, his thumb wiping away at the tears.

"I'm great." You smile up at him. You knew he was good looking before but now, seeing his pretty blonde hair and warm brown eyes, he was just so beautiful. "Wow." You breath out, more tears falling carelessly down your cheeks. "Seriously, what the hell? You're kinda freaking me out." "Sorry..." You mumble, hands reaching out to run through his hair. Kei just stands there, watching you in total confusion. What had he walked in on? You were crying but you looked happy? Not really knowing what else to do, he led you towards the couch and sat you down.

"Hey. Are you listening?" He asks, turning your face to him, forcing you to focus on his eyes. His warm brown eyes that seemed to be streaked with gold. "Focus. Please." You sigh but offer him a smile. "I am." You put your hands over his and give them a small reassuring squeeze. "I'm ok. Honestly. I just think you're really beautiful."

"You- what?!" He sputters, cheeks growing more pink the longer you stare. "What's gotten into you?" He finally mumbles out as he let's go of your face. "I'm sorry. I've just.. Have you... Can you see..." You stop and start a few times before he sighs and pulls you into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "Yea. I can." He says quietly into your hair as he holds you.

He would never admit it to you but when he woke up that morning, Tsukishima cried. He knows he's prickly, more than most but he tries his best. Especially for you. He'd never seen such a pretty smile before you'd offered him yours. It was small and maybe a little awkward but when he left the store that day he kicked himself for just walking away from you. The fact that he did it again two more times had him nearly pulling his hair out from how spineless he was acting. Yet week after week he found himself pacing the frozen food aisle hoping you'd appear and when you did he felt a small sense of calm wash over him every time.

Kei would never tell you how, as he watched you sleep the night before, listening to the sound of your soft even breathing, he whispered that he loved you. Just three short words. They were neither beautiful nor fully expressive of just how far he had fallen for you but he said them because they were true.

He'd never admit that the first thing he sought out when he was met with a world teeming with beautiful colors was you. There was nothing more he desired than to see the color of your eyes and how they sparkled when you looked at him. He wanted to see the color of your hair in the sun and how you seemed to glow in its light. He wanted to see the color of your lips and how they darkened with each fervent kiss. He wanted to see you and how his love for you had only made you somehow more beautiful.

He may never tell you any of that but the evidence of your mutual love was all around you in each and every color that now painted the world you two share.

[byunbaekby]

title — the following pairing — demon!haechan x female reader, slight jaemin x reader featuring — jaemin as reader’s roommate and crush word count — 6.9k  genres — horror, angst warnings — language, religious concepts in accordance to demons and angels, mentions of murder, psychological and physical torture, elements of haunting, choking, degradation in a nonsexual context (donghyuck often refers to y/n as feeble or unintelligent), minor character death  inspiration — monster by red velvet

“under a single light, why are there two shadows?” “i’m a little monster, be scared of me / i’ll bother you by making you only dream of me.” “see i’m just playing, no bad intentions / try to come out of the dream but monster lives forever.”

author’s message — for the #neohalloween event hosted by @nct-writers​. this is my first time ever writing something of this genre, so i’m very excited and nervous to put this forward. thank you to @give-seconds​ for proof reading this and making it 100x better! much love ♡

also, this entire scenario is loosely generated from a superstition in hmong culture that you shouldn’t pick up anything you find laying around in public, for you might bring home something else with you. 

“Y/N? Is something wrong? Why are you calling me?” 

Your roommate’s voice rings clear on the opposite side of the line. Though you’re shivering as a result of the cold, barren winter air, you try to get a response past your shaking lips. “I-I’m walking home, Jaem. Can you… can you stay on the phone with me?” 

“Oh.” He immediately gets it; it’s never safe for a young woman to walk home alone, especially not in your neighborhood. “Of course… Where are you?”

You turn into the shortcut, your feet meeting the soft, pliable ground. The cemetery; it’s probably the worst shortcut you could ever take, but it cuts your walk home in half. “The cemetery…”

“Again? I told you that you should stop cutting through there, it’s not safe.”

You register his words in your ear as you eye a black bird resting atop a gravestone, peering at you with bright eyes. Casting your sight away from it, your teeth bite down on your bottom lip, roseate tier captured beneath the sharp incisor. “Walking down the street at this time isn’t safe either. At least here there’s nobody else around.” 

Jaemin sighs on the other side. “Even worse, anyone hanging out in a cemetery at…” He pauses, likely to glance at his watch. “10:28 PM, is probably going to be weirder than someone you find out on the street on a Friday night.”

“Hey!” You tell him, clutching your bag close to you. “I’m a person hanging out in a cemetery at 10:28 PM.” 

“My point exactly.” 

You roll your eyes, a laugh leaving you, but you’re glad for Jaemin’s teasing. It helps get your mind off the fact that the hill you walk past casts a dark shadow over the path. As you walk past, engulfed in what seems to be the darkest area of the entire graveyard, you attempt to make easy conversation with your roommate to get it off your mind. 

“Did you eat dinner already?” You ask him, voice low as if someone were listening. Who knows, someone might be. 

Jaemin easily sees through what you’re attempting to do, but he follows along anyway because he’s nice. “I did. I tried to wait for you, but you took too long.”

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Time passed by me in the library.”

“I know. Like damn, you should really lay off the studying sometimes and have fun.” 

“I know, I know. You tell me, Renjun tells me, Professor Kim even—woah!”

You drop to the floor, the air flying out of your chest and dissipating into nothingness as you fall forward onto your chest. All the contents of your bag spill out, along with your phone, which lies a few feet away on the dirt. 

Groan escaping your lips, you look down at your white jeans. Completely stained and covered in dirt. Damn.

“Y/N? Hello? Y/N, you there?”

You can hear Jaemin’s muffled worried tone from where you are, but you focus on gathering your things from your bag first before you grab the phone. In the darkness of the night, you can’t even see everything, you just hope you manage to grab everything. It would definitely be your worst nightmare if you lost your Calculus homework due on Monday to the graveyard because you hadn’t grabbed it. 

When you finally return everything to your bag, you press the phone to your ear. “Hey, sorry, I tripped.” 

“You had me worried there! I was about to run out there myself,” nags Jaemin, and you can see in your mind the way his dark eyebrows must be furrowed in distaste. 

“Sorry Jaem,” you apologize to him as you scurry down the path, ready to be free of the cemetery’s unsettling aura as soon as possible. “Please tell me you saved me some food, I’m starving...”

-

He feels it when you walk in. He senses the irrefutable change in the air, smells your delectable scent with his sharpness. His grave sits at the very top of the largest hill, giving him the perfect place to watch you from. The cemetery becomes alive with your entrance. 

Ironic, isn’t it?

Sitting rather stylishly with his thin, gauntly body atop his gravestone, Donghyuck watches you with sharp, focused eyes. You’re so pretty. He smirks, observing the way you flutter through the graveyard, feet barely touching the ground in your feeble attempt to escape the ominous lot as soon as possible. 

“Walking down the street at this time isn’t safe either. At least here there’s nobody else around.” 

That’s where you’re wrong.

The dark demon can hardly keep the devilish grin off his tiers, watching you. Beautiful, you are.

He’s seen you a few times, in the handful of times you’ve dared to cut through the cemetery on your way home. With an amused, almost teasing shake of his head, he tsks. “Bad decision, little lamb.”

“Did you eat dinner already?” You ask whoever you’re speaking to on the phone. Donghyuck can barely remember what human food tastes like. As a demon, he doesn’t eat humans, let alone get hungry, but if he had a choice, you’d definitely be his first choice.

Your soul is good. He wants it.

If he can’t have you, at least he can play with you a little. 

It doesn’t take much. The moment you glide through the path and under the darkness of his hill, all it takes is the slightest snap of his fingers to send you flying forward. He’d love to make you stay down there, perhaps drag you down below with him, but that would be no fun. 

Rather, he plucks off one of his rings, one of the many decorating his hands for absolutely no one to see, and tosses it seamlessly into the pile of your things spilled across the path. As he watches the way you carelessly shove everything back into your bag, his Cheshire grin grows even wider. Now, he has a reason to leave. 

As you scurry away, Donghyuck jumps off his grave which he had occupied for decades, and lands on his feet. With a wipe of his hands on his jeans, he watches you go. 

“Stupid little lamb. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

The rest of the walk home, you can swear there are steps behind you matching yours.

-

When you get home, you quickly slide into your bedroom amid Jaemin’s nagging sounds and slip off your white (well, brown now) jeans from your legs. After getting on some more comfortable clothes, you grab your dirtied jeans and make your way to the bathroom. 

The restroom, however small, still has room for a washer and dryer, which you’re thankful for, seeing as you and Jaemin don’t have to pay a laundromat for your weekly laundry. You toss your jeans in the washer; normally you wouldn’t wash just one garment, but the dirt would likely stain your perfectly white jeans. After pressing start you make your way to the kitchen, where your roommate is reheating dinner for you. 

The image of Jaemin’s broad back standing at the stove makes you smile to yourself for just a millisecond, so quick that it’s fleeting. Before you can take another moment to admire your roommate however, he turns to you with his trademark smile. “Hey, pick a movie. Let’s watch something.” 

About fifteen minutes later, you’re eating your leftovers on the couch, Jaemin’s arm spread over your shoulders while the beginning scenes of The Conjuring play. You don’t have much, the apartment barely enough for the two of you to inhabit, and Jaemin is only your roommate, but you’ve gotten used to these kinds of nights. Simple, easy, sweet.

The light remainder of Jaemin’s daily cologne mixed in with his gentle cotton scent pervades into your senses, and you lean your head onto his shoulder with a smile. You’ve always wanted to be more with Jaemin, but you could settle for these comfortable nights of movies and platonic cuddling. 

It’s something about having a full belly, Jaemin’s warmth, and the everlasting light traces of his scent that has you falling asleep, eyes drooping closed slowly into a peaceful suspension of consciousness. 

-

I.

You wake the first morning. 

You don’t even remember falling asleep, but it doesn’t surprise you when you wake up in bed. Recently you’ve developed a habit of falling asleep on movie nights, and Jaemin is always kind enough to place you gently back in your room. 

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you let out an unearthly sound as you sit up and stretch your arms above your head. When you unsheath the blanket from your legs, your unprepared toes meet the cold wooden floor, causing you to flutter across the room quickly and into the living area. 

It’s Saturday, but Jaemin volunteers at the hospital on Saturdays, so you only prepare a bowl of cereal for yourself. If your roommate were here, he’d probably scold you for the lack of nutrition, so you toss a couple of berries into your frosted flakes. 

After you finish up, washing your bowl at the sink, your eyes widen in realization; you left your jeans in the washer! Falling asleep mid-movie had caused you to completely forget about them, not drying them before you slept like you had told yourself. God, they probably stink by now, sitting wet for hours. 

But when you slide open the door to the bathroom, you see your jeans resting atop the drying machine, folded neatly like they had been waiting for you. Perhaps they were. 

Ah, you realize, mouth parting just the slightest. Jaemin must have dried them and folded them before he left for the hospital this morning. Another grateful smile spreads across your visage; you really do have the best roommate. 

You spend the rest of the day studying, and prepare a nice dinner (which also means going grocery shopping) for Jaemin, as a little thank you for always being so thoughtful. He appreciates it when he comes home to a fully cooked meal, and there’s something about the way he smiles that has you feeling as though you’ve finally done something good to amount to all the times he’s saved your ass as a roommate. When the night ends, you both retire to your rooms. 

In your lovesick daze, you fail to recognize that under the single lighting of your room, there are two shadows. 

-

VII.

On the seventh day, Donghyuck’s displeasure is enough to choke him—that is, if he needed to breathe.

He had wanted to tease you, follow you home and play with you a little before revealing himself. But God, you are so dumb; he should have expected as much from a feeble, stupid little sheep anyways. 

That first night, testing the waters, he had done your damn laundry for you. It was just a little fun, to get the ball rolling. Any superstitious person would have known. And what did you do? You had thought it to be your roommate. As the days went by, his teasing grew in quantity and intensity; hiding your keys, ripping apart your essays, perhaps all the menial and annoying things that some stupid schoolboy would do to grab the attention of a girl he liked. But your attention is lost, and he is not a stupid schoolboy. No, he is far from it. 

Even as his antics have built up throughout the following days, you always found some excuse to play it off; you must be more clever than he thought. No, you weren’t; you were either extremely clumsy and forgetful, or you were simply denying his existence. It’s time to make himself known. 

-

VIII.

It’s the eighth night when he appears in your dreams. No, not he. It.

You can sense it, the moment your suspension of consciousness becomes overtaken by him and you find yourself in a simple black room. It seems to extend in every which direction, as though you could run off in any given direction and never hit a wall. But you feel it watching you.

He’s behind your shoulder, and the moment his low, amused chuckle is heard in your ears you swipe around to face him, eyes wide. He’s beautiful; dark brown hair, smooth skin, a captivating honey color, and dark eyes. 

Those eyes.

They pierce into your soul, as though they can see right through you. They probably can. He is not a person, you know. He is… more. 

Dark eyes once overtaken with curiosity are now characterized by bleak amusement. Your breath hitches, and his voice comes out low. “Welcome.” 

“What is this? Where am I?” Your voice comes out rapidly, shaking. You know nothing of this… thing before you but you can’t help but feel unsafe under its gaze. 

“Now, that’s not very nice. I am very much a person, not an it,” he smirks beneath the shadow which casts itself upon his visage. You freeze; he can hear your thoughts.

This realization only further widens the Cheshire grin across his lips, and instinctively you take a step back further into the black nothingness. “G-Get out of my head,” you threaten to no avail.

The same mocking laugh leaves his lips. “Sweetheart, this is your head. This entire place is of your making. If you hate it so much,” he says, and suddenly he’s in front of you. His hand leaves the pockets of his black bottoms, lithe digits suddenly cupping your chin and tilting it upward so you are staring right into his dark empty orbs which come to life with the image of you. His fingers, dressed in various shades of gold rings, grip you. You should feel his warmth on your skin, you should feel the radiating human heat that you so often feel with Jaemin. 

“Erase me from it.” 

But you don’t feel anything behind his callused skin, and that’s what scares you the most. 

Your throat runs dry and when he parts his lips, even his breath is cold. “But you’re scared.” When you fail to respond, he licks his lips, and his next words are characterized by sarcastic rancor. “What’s wrong? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Unless…” At this point, under his burning gaze that contrasts the ice-cold emptiness against your skin, your knees begin to buckle. The smile which accompanies his next words, revealing his pearly whites and perhaps his intentions, is sinister: “You’re not afraid of demons… are you?”

-

IX.

You wake in a cold sweat, and you’re more aware of Jaemin’s soothing voice telling you to breathe than the fact that you’re not breathing. Chest heaving and eyes wide, you search for something in Jaemin’s eyes to tether you back to earth, back to reality.

He’s not real, he’s not real. He can’t hurt you. 

It was just a dream.

“Hey, hey,” Jaemin calls out to you, hands on your shoulders to steady you from your previous thrashing. You had awoken him with your screaming. “You okay? Breathe, Y/N, just,” he takes a pause to take a deep breath, silently instructing you to follow with him. “Breathe.” In a few moments, when your breathing pattern has begun to return to normal, steady breaths, he asks again, voice dripping with nothing but pure concern for you, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod. It’s the first word you’ve spoken, so your voice comes out scratched and you’re reminded just how much air you need to actually speak coherently. “It was just… a bad dream.”

“Sounded a lot worse than a bad dream…” He responds, taking his respectful hands off of you and tucking them into the loose pockets of his fleece pajama bottoms. An image flashes before your eyes: that… person, hands tucked leisurely into their pockets, ominous smile enough to make you wonder what they were hiding in there. 

You blink, closing your eyes tightly and shaking your head, as though it could shake the image from your mind. When you open them once more, Jaemin is still standing next to your bed. “I’m okay, I promise,” you tell him, though it feels more as though you’re speaking to yourself. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” responds your roommate, who offers you a reassuring smile and another worried look before slipping out of your bedroom. When you’re finally alone, you bring a hand up to your forehead, where sweat has made your skin clammy and sticky. 

You’re warm. He is not.

-

XII.

“You’re a demon.”

You say this on the twelfth night, finding yourself once again stranded in the same dark and endless room with the sharp-eyed devil. This time, there are two chairs and the two of you sit facing each other. He sits as though he has all the time in the world, and perhaps he does. Legs crossed leisurely and arms over his chest with his head tilted at you, he stares. 

With your tense posture in your own chair, you wonder fleetingly how enough light exists in this black room that you can never seem to avoid staring at his mocking facial expression. You gulp, gripping onto nothing as you tighten your fists to prevent them from trembling. He’s not real, you have to remind yourself. 

“When did you figure that out, little lamb? When I told you, probably?” His tone is insulting, as though you were stupid. You narrow your eyes, biting the flesh inside your cheek. 

“Aw,” he coos, grinning at you with dark beguilement. “You’re frustrated.”

“Duh, I’m frustrated,” you huff, blowing some air from your mouth to push away a strand of hair that has fallen into your face. “You keep bringing me here with no jurisdiction or knowledge of who you are.”

“Fine,” he acquiesces. “Three questions. Don’t make them stupid, though I know that’s hard for an incompetent human like yourself.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet. Next question. I’ll even be nice enough to abstain that as a question,” he responds, as though he’s doing you a favor. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“Being a demon is rather boring, you see. Not here, not there.” He waves his hand around, as though pointing to heaven and its counterpart. “I found you, and you intrigued me.”

He leans forward, resting his chin in his palm. “Or rather, you found me. You invited me in.” 

“I never did that,” you reply, indignant. 

“But you did.” A dark eyebrow raises at you, and you bite down on your lip to prevent your anger from rising. “You never checked your bag, did you? Never found a gold ring, maybe?” He lifts his chin off of his palm, stretching out his fingers as though they were cramped. “Maybe one with DH engraved in it.” 

You had. You had found the ring in your bag on Saturday and had figured it to be one of your own negligible accessories, tossing it into your jewelry box. Had there been letters engraved on it? 

At the look on your face, a smile spreads across his features. “So you do remember.” 

Despite the umbrage bubbling in your stomach, perhaps more feisty than you should be in the presence of a self-proclaimed demon, you have another question. Leaning forward just the slightest you ask, “Why haven’t you hurt me? Isn’t that what demons do?”

There’s a glint in his eye, and the easy-going expression on his face is quickly replaced by a darkened simper. “Do you want me to hurt you?” 

Your fists tighten again. “N-No…”

“Don’t tempt me.” His voice is dark now, his earlier lilted tone now descending into a deep pit. It’s almost demanding, as though he’s daring you to push his buttons and send him plummeting into a torturous rage. At the look of fear that swipes across your face, he chuckles once more. “Relax, little lamb. I’m just playing, no bad intentions here.” 

You don’t believe him, not even for a second. If he’s really what he says he is… why does he torture you in this way, making you only dream of him? You push the thoughts from your mind, knowing that he has full access to your brain. “What’s your name?” 

“Now you’re asking the good questions. You may call me…”

The corner of his lips tug upward into a smirk.

“Donghyuck.” 

-

XIII.

The titles should shock you more than they do.

University Student Pleads Guilty to Murder of Three Female Students

College Killer: More Murders Revealed In Trial of Lee Donghyuck

Lee Donghyuck, Murderer of At Least Thirteen Victims, Sentenced To Death Penalty

He’s real. 

It’s Friday night again, and you find yourself back at the library. Except this time, it’s not calculus nor world history that you are pondering. It’s not your psychology textbook that you are poured over. 

No, the archives are open, and all it took was a little keyword into the filter to find just what you’re searching for. The only word you needed: Donghyuck.

He hadn’t been lying. Not about his identity or his demonic status. 

When you read over the headlines and their accompanying stories, you don’t realize the way your pupils begin to shake, or the way that your heartbeat begins to accelerate as the truth dawns upon you. 

He is real, he is dangerous, and he is haunting you. 

-

XIV. 

“So you know who I am.” It’s less of a question, more of a statement. Tonight, there is only one chair and you are sitting in it as Donghyuck walks circles around you. There are no chains, no straps to hold you down to the chair but you cannot move. Despite what he had told you the first night, that this is all your dream and that you have the ability to change anything, the opposite seems true. 

He disappears behind you, and suddenly his voice is in your ear. Your breath hitches at the sudden gust of cold air on your sensitive skin as he speaks. “Are you afraid?” 

“No.” 

“You forget I’m in your head, sweetheart. I know everything, so don’t lie to me.” 

He’s caught you.

You say nothing, and so he stands straight and makes himself present in your vision again. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s in your feeble nature.” His finger starts at your hand, bringing a chill down your spine. As he drags it slowly up the scope of your exposed arm, you hardly resist the instinct to shiver. “I just want to know, what are you afraid of?”

“Is it…” he speaks softly, teasingly throwing each word in your ear, like tossing small bites to a starved dog. “That I know each of your thoughts the moment you think it, and you only know my name? That I’m a dark spirit and can bring you enough pain to make you forget your name with just a snap of my fingers?”

His trailing hand, once tracing over the curve of your clavicle, suddenly grips your neck. Though only a light pressure is applied, you feel the wind knocked out of you by his sudden, unforeseen movement. “Or is it that because of me, sixteen women died and you might end up the same?”

With the little air you have left, you manage to squeeze out, “They said thirteen.”

Amusement shows on his visage before he finally lets your throat go, and you heave as you attempt to refill your lungs with air. “No,” he corrects, moving back to his original space, circling you like a shark locking its prey in uncharted waters. “They said at least thirteen. They never found the other three.” 

The thought is enough to make you sick, but before you can manage to swallow down the bile attempting to rise up your throat, he speaks. “Don’t worry about them too much, my little lamb. You’ll join them soon.” 

“You’re lying,” you spit out. “You keep threatening me, but you’re all talk and no proof. You can’t do anything to me, that’s why you only bother me in my dreams.” 

Your sudden and unexpected quip seems to, rather than upset him, entertain him. “You think I can’t do anything to you outside of this box? Funny,” he scoffs, though he still maintains that grin on his lips. “Humans are so cocky, I learned that after they killed me.” 

He stops pacing, and instead kneels before you, his face placed before yours. “I’ve done things, sweetheart. Remember the pants? The essay you spent five hours on torn up the morning after you printed it out? How about the dress you bought that I cut up until there was nothing left but shreds? You got really mad at your friend for quote-unquote, ‘pranking’ you.”

But Donghyuck is nothing if not honest. You’ve learned this. 

“But on some level, you’re right.” His hand reaches up once more, but instead of resting it on your shoulder again, he gently caresses your cheek. It would be soft, romantic in any other case. But no, his touch makes your skin crawl. “I can’t hurt you, and I don’t know why. Don’t worry, I want to, but outside this dream…” His hand stops, and grips your chin instead. “I physically can’t. Tell me why?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You have a cross on you somewhere, little lamb? Or, a guardian angel?”

“I said I don’t know,” you repeat, voice louder as you turn your head sharply, ripping your chin from his grasp. In your ear, he tsks. 

Now you’ve done it. 

“Getting too comfortable, aren’t we? You’re forgetting who’s in charge here,” he says, voice dipping into dangerous territory as he reaches forward, gripping your throat once more. But this time, he digs his nails into the softness of your skin, and your choked scream is caught in your throat by his hands before it can ever leave. 

-

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” 

Jaemin’s voice is the only thing carrying you back to sanity, and when you finally force your eyes open he’s before you, gripping your arms once again to prevent you from thrashing about. “It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream,” he coos out in worry as you finally come to. 

Your hand immediately flies to your neck which is, to your relief, not at all sore. The moment your eyes fall on him and you realize that the hand around your neck is no more, you fall into a bout of tears. Instinctively, your roommate holds you to his chest in a protective hug whilst you sob into his chest.

It’s not real, it’s not real. You keep telling yourself this like a mantra in your head as Jaemin rubs your head soothingly. But why does it feel so real?

“It’s okay,” Jaemin continues telling you, voice soft as his sweet familiar scent pervades your senses once again and your tense muscles begin to relax. 

Minutes pass before you’ve calmed down, outright sobs now quiet whimpers. Jaemin begins to set you down back into bed, but you grab at his wrist before he can set you down. “What, what is it?” He asks, eyes immediately scanning your body for any sign of distress.

“Can you… can you stay with me?” It’s a large request, perhaps much too intrusive for someone who is supposed to just be your roommate. But lately, Jaemin feels… much more. Every night as you’ve been plagued by Donghyuck’s presence in your haunting nightmares, he has come to save you when you’re falling apart in screams.

He feels like a friend, and a… a protector. 

Not at all fazed by your sudden request, Jaemin wears an abiding smile and nods. “Of course,” he says, sliding into your bed whilst you move over to make room for him. You feel much safer with him around, and now with him in your bed, your personal dreamcatcher, you naturally find yourself in his arms once more while you drift away into sleep, Donghyuck’s presence no longer occupying your dreams. 

Neither of you take the time or attention to look, for if you had you would have seen, in the corner of the room furthest from the window, where the darkened corner seems to extend into an infinite world of black, Donghyuck looking less than pleased. 

Your roommate needs to be handled.

-

XXI.

Something seemed to have changed that night when Jaemin first slipped into your bed. You have since not dreamed of Donghyuck even once, and you definitely do not miss him. Perhaps he is gone for good. 

How stupid of you to think so, even knowing what Donghyuck is capable of. Perhaps you never truly knew, not before now, just how powerful he is, or just what kind of chaos he can incite. 

It’s 3 PM on the twenty-first day when you finally find out just how evil he is.

Jaemin is in the hospital. 

You had gotten the call on the bus ride home from campus; your roommate, jokes and boyish smiles for all the time you’ve known him, had been hit by a car just outside your apartment building. Now, he is in the hospital with broken ribs and a herniated disk, barely holding on for his life in a coma. 

You’re not allowed in his room, but you do catch a glimpse of your roommate when his physician enters, and just the sliver of him that you see is enough to make you turn your head away. 

You know who is responsible for this. 

-

The door to your bedroom is thrown open, and before you can recognize the emptiness of the apartment without Jaemin’s presence around, you’re screaming into the void. 

“I know you’re listening, you dick! Show yourself, fucking coward!” 

The obscenities that leave your mouth seem to do the trick because before you can register it, you’re on the floor. As though the carpet is pulled out from under you, you go flying forward and the wind is knocked out of you as you meet the ground chest first. 

You don’t have any time to breathe or recover, as immediately there is a force pulling you up by the shirt, and suddenly you’re no longer standing on the ground. 

You see him.

You’ve seen him before, of course. He’s appeared in your dreams enough to have his sinister expression sewed in your thoughts at all hours of the day. But now… now he looks stronger. Less pale and more colorful. Even the aura which exudes from him… is more dangerous than ever. 

Yet, he still wears that shit-eating smile on his lips as he watches you float in the air, collar squeezing at your throat and looking completely powerless. “Now, little lamb, those are not very nice words,” Donghyuck chastises as he approaches you. When he’s finally before you once more, he twitches his eyebrow upward just the slightest. “Missed me?”

“Not at all,” you manage, gathering the spit in your mouth to chuck it out at him. 

Not even fazed, he simply wipes at the spit on his face, flicking it off in a negligible direction. “I’m not feeling welcomed,” he comments. 

“Because you’re not,” you retort, thrashing about to no avail. “What did you do to Jaemin?”

The mention of your now critical roommate only makes his grin grow wider. “You see, sweetheart, I thought you’d be pretty proud of me. I found out what was keeping me from being able to inflict any real damage on you,” he says whilst his cold hand comes out to squeeze at your cheeks. “Your guardian angel has been taken care of.” 

Wait, what? Then it dawns on you.

Jaemin is… your guardian angel.

“You look surprised. That’s okay, I didn’t know either.” Donghyuck releases your face, instead choosing to pace left and right before you, though he never lets his eyes leave you. “But then he started sleeping with you, and I couldn’t get into your mind. I put two and two together. With him around, I’d never be able to touch you.” 

The glint in his eyes turns feral. “And you have an embarrassing school girl crush on him, so I was able to kill two birds with one stone. With every second that passes, his life is draining away, and I’m only getting stronger.” 

“Why are you doing this?” You cry out once again, though your voice is more desperate than it had been the first time around. “What do you want?”

“You see, I figured that out too.” His mocking tone begins to seep away and is instead replaced by that familiar dark timbre of his as he approaches you once more, gripping your chin again in his fingers. Tilting your head up harshly, he stares endlessly into you and whispers, “I thought I was done with those petty murders, that the sight of women begging at my knees like dirt for mercy wouldn’t excite me as much anymore. But no… I want you to suffer. I want to destroy you, take away your happiness, and break you piece by piece, until you’re just begging for me to take you out of your misery.” The semblance of a smirk quirks at his lips. “Just like those other girls. Except this time, there’s no limit to what I can do. And when you do die, I’ll be right here to welcome you back.” 

Tears sting your eyes at the horrible things he whispers to you, but you refuse to capitulate to him. “I’d rather die than do anything you say.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be dead just as soon. The fun hasn’t even started yet,” he teases. Suddenly, it’s as if the paranormal restraints on your limbs are cut free, as your body immediately falls to the floor, collecting in a pile. You hardly have the energy to lift your head, but you register the sound of Donghyuck’s voice as he walks away from you. “Rest up tonight, little lamb. You’ve got a long eternity ahead of you.”

Then he’s gone. You swear you will make use of the last twelve hours of your life. 

-

First, you visit Jaemin again. You know you’re not allowed in, but you know his room number and there’s no one coming in to check up on him, you hope. 

You don’t know if he really is your guardian angel, but above that, he is your friend. 

“Hey,” you say softly, making your presence known as you sit down in the chair beside his hospital bed. It’s arbitrary… you know Jaemin doesn’t have parents around, and perhaps that only lends to the possibility that he really is someone sent here to protect you. 

“How are you?” You scoff at yourself. “That’s stupid of me to ask, you’re in a coma. I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you really are an angel, but thank you, Jaemin. For always… always being there for me, protecting me. Walking me through the cemetery, making dinner for me, chasing my nightmares away.”

Sitting there, staring at your friend’s lifeless body laying on the bed looking gray as a sheet, tears begin to sting your eyes. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this, I should have listened to you when you told me to be careful. And if I have to lose someone as amazing and… pure-hearted as you, I don’t think I can live with myself. So please, even if you don’t make it out of here, please… stay by my side.”

As your first tear breaks the barrier and begins to coast down your cheek, you reach out and grab his hand. It’s cold. 

-

XXII.

It’s a little past midnight and though your fingers shake from the cold, you throw everything of yours that he’s touched into the bucket.

Even the things you weren’t completely sure of, you toss away anything that could have been influenced by his dark magic; the leftover shreds of your essay that you had recovered from the recycle, the pieces of fabric that he had obliterated your dress to, the white jeans you had worn that first night, and more. Finally, you throw in that godforsaken ring that had started it all.

You swore that you would never return to the cemetery again, but here you are. This time, you really can see everything at the top of the hill. You turn your head back to glower at the tombstone before you.

Lee Donghyuck.

What a piece of shit. 

Though your fingers shake, you light the match without trouble. When you toss it into the basket of forsaken belongings, it is only a matter of seconds before Donghyuck appears, tethered to his tombstone once more.

Gripping at his body, he snarls out at you, “What the hell are you doing?”

That, you hardly even know. Following only the speculations found on the internet, you had unknowingly lured your monstrous demon back to his home. 

It seems to work, as the greater the fire grows, the more pained Donghyuck’s expression seems to become. 

Your voice finds its strength as you announce your intentions. “Erasing you.” 

“You can’t do that to me, you don’t get to win!” Donghyuck yells in growing anger, reaching out to you but failing. With this inability of his to touch you, you tilt your chin higher, the orange tint of the flames reflecting off your strengthened pride. 

“I believed you all this time, I let you scare me into thinking that you could overpower me. That you could hurt me,” you muse, staring without remorse at his pained form. “But I was wrong. You only exist as long as I let you. You can only hurt me as long as I believe you can.”

“I’ll be back,” declares Donghyuck as the fire roars, only sending him further into a realm of pain. Whilst he grips his limbs in pure fury, you shake your head. 

“No, you won’t. Because you were right, this is my world. I’m the one with the power here: I have blood flowing through me, I have oxygen in my lungs, and I have a soul. You have none of those.” With your anger bursting at the seams, you kick over the metal bucket burning from the inside, instead tossing the trash over the dirt of Donghyuck’s grave. “And because of that, I’m not scared of you.”

As the fire burns out at the final thread, and the spirit which had infested your mind for twenty-two days begins to fade away in a fit of rage, you offer him the same powerful, mocking smile he had tattooed into your mind. 

“Goodbye, Donghyuck. Rest in hell.”

-

CCCLXV.

“Hey, did you do the notes from the last lecture?”

Flipping through your binder, you nod and pull out the said notes, handing them over to the student sitting next to you. At this point, you’ve learned enough about her to know that on Mondays, she always asks for the notes. You’ve started printing extra copies for her. 

It’s been a year. 

You had taken a year off of university to return home. After everything that had happened and Jaemin’s death, you simply couldn’t bear to even step into your old apartment anymore. Over time, you’ve found that you’ve healed and you are no longer afraid.

Not afraid to return to school, at least.

“Here you go,” you tell her as you hand over the notes. “You can keep that copy.”

The look she wears is grateful. “Thanks!” 

“Hey,” calls a voice on your right. “Do you have a pen?”

“Sure, I—” You start, reaching into your pencil bag, but stop when your gaze falls upon the owner of the voice. 

No, it can’t be. It just can’t.

Before you is Donghyuck. Except it’s not. He’s… different. 

His hair is no longer brown, but rather a light shade of blonde that accentuates his honey olive skin tone. Rather than all black, he is dressed in a cream-colored sweater and a pair of light washed ripped jeans. Most strikingly of all, his signature sharp eyes are no longer clouded by dark evil, but are light with the sweet smile that he wears on his lips.

No… it’s not Donghyuck. After your return home, you had begun to see his face everywhere, and have since learned to distinguish between reality and trauma. When the stranger catches you staring, he tilts his head, smile growing further. “I’m Haechan.”

Shaking your head slightly to clear the thoughts, you go back to searching for a pen in your bag. “Uh, hi Haechan. Here you go,” you say as you hand the pen over to him.

When your fingers brush just the slightest, he’s cold. 

You pull your hand back quickly, as though you had been burned. No, you tell yourself. It’s cold in here, the air conditioning is always on in the lecture hall. Turning back to face forward in your seat, you try to calm your breathing, pulling your cardigan closer to cover you. The stranger next to you pulls out a notebook from his bag, and in full view, begins to write in the corner. 

Your professor is speaking, clicking on his projector, when Haechan slides his notebook over to you. There, written in perfect handwriting…

I told you I’d be back.

[oh-so-scenarios]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅiᴘiᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜiɴɢs...♠| 14

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, vulgar language

****Theere are some errors. Please ignore! (Word Count: 8.6K)

Previous | Next ◀ ▶  Series Index | Masterlist

Y/N:

The warmth I’m feeling isn’t coming from the hot shower I just stepped out of. It was a warm feeling in my chest, along with the nervous patter of my heart. So I’m spending the night here? The rain doesn’t show any signs of stopping, and the cracking of thunder is enough to keep anyone inside.

Hoseok gave me a long sweatshirt of his along with some basketball shorts. I used the towel he provided to dry myself off and slip on the clothes he gave me. As I’m staring at myself in the partially fogged up mirror, I get a flashback to what happened in the car. 

My skin still tickled with his soft but wanting touches. I’m also shocked at my actions. I really dug my hand into his pants with no shame. I stroked his dick, and begged for him to fuck me in the back of his car. 

I shook my head, as if to shake off the embarrassment of the past events. As I removed myself from my thoughts, I recognized the sound of another running shower. Hoseok must be using his other bathroom to take a shower. I hung up the towel and grabbed my rain soaked clothes.

I stepped out of the bathroom, my hot skin being met by the cold air that circulated the hallway was refreshing, and caused me to sigh in bliss. 

I shyly looked side to side, staring at the hallway that led to more rooms, and the way that led to the living room. I took small and hesitant steps towards the other doors down the hallway, not sure what I was looking for. 

I came to a door that I thought was a closet and opened it, surprised to see a washer and dryer stacked on top of each other in the cramped space. They were clearly the newest model, and still had that new appliance gloss. The dryer already had something in it, making my stand on my tiptoes to glance in through the clear circular door. I recognized the shirt, and came to the conclusion that it was the clothes Hoseok wore on the date. 

He must have thrown them in here while I was in the shower. I opened the dryer and tossed my clothes in, my eyes reading all the dials before setting them and pressing start. 

The dryer hummed quietly while the clothes tumbled and turned inside. It was only a light vibration as well. Very different from my dryer, which was loud and echoed throughout my place. 

Hoseok is clearly a man of luxury, even with the most simple things. I closed the door and walked down the hallway to the balcony-like area. I slowly made my way down the stairs and to the living room, finding time to gawk around at the decor. It’s simple like Hoseok, yet luxurious. It’s nothing overbearing either. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem like the type to flaunt his wealth in excess. No big mansion with a bunch of unused rooms, but rather a comfortable and roomy condo. I stared into the darkness that was outside, and the other buildings in the distance. 

Seeing as the whole left wall was glass, it made the room feel a bit larger. Small threads of light from other buildings giving me a sliver of the raindrops floating down towards the ground. I watched lightning whip through the sky, the thunder that followed being a loud rumble. 

Speaking of rumble, my stomach makes a grunt sound, reminding me that we weren’t able to get dinner. With my hand pressed to my stomach, I shyly turned towards the dark walk way, strolling up the two small steps and cautiously venturing into the space.

My hands move along the wall hoping to find a light switch. My feet shuffled carefully, and I inched around, trying to keep from crashing into something.

My fingers run across something circular and hit it. Lights come shining on and I wince at the brightness, turning the circular dial to dim it. I look around to see a medium sized rectangular table with a few chairs. It seems to be a dining table, but with different sheets of paper scattered all about. There were opened binders and files carelessly thrown down. 

You’d think Hoseok would have left them in a hurry, so he didn’t have time to clean it up. 

I looked to my left to see some of the kitchen. It was barely visible, but the dining room lights gave me enough to see the switch for the kitchen. I switched the lights on and strolled in, my feet making a slapping noise on the cool tile floor. 

The kitchen matched the penthouse perfectly. All the appliances were a shining silver while the medium sized island, cabinets and all the countertops were a smooth black wood. The tile floor was an imitation of white oak wood that kept the place from seeming too dark. It was spacious and unlike the dining room, very clean. 

Everything has its place and would make anyone uncomfortable to move it. The coffee machine next to the mug rack that was next to the blender, before the gas stove interrupted the smooth countertop. 

On the other side of the stove was a rice cooker and a toaster. All the appliances showed signs of being used, but were cleaned wonderfully. 

I turned my eyes to the large two wide door fridge that had a drawer at the bottom as the freezer. I approach the fridge, staring at it. I glanced around me, as if I was doing something bad. 

Is it okay for me to open his fridge? Should I wait for him to come back before I ask if I can cook something? I reached a hand out to rest on the handle before opening one of the doors.

Hoseok’s fridge was stocked beautifully. All the water bottles lined up like the aesthetic posts I would see on Tumblr. The condiments were organized and all the foods were set in certain places. Now I really feel bad to go in there and mess it up. 

I open the other door and scan all the foods and items, deciding on some beef japchae. I started to take out the ingredients, taking the cuts of beef that were wrapped in one of the fridge compartments. I moved to the cabinets, getting more comfortable as I pulled out the needed items. 

I found all the seasonings and bowls I would need while I hummed a song I heard on the radio. 

I jump slightly when I heard a door closing, followed by footsteps coming down the stairs in a bit of a rush. I keep my eyes on the entrance way that connected the dining room with the living room. It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s figure rushes through, his cell phone pressed to his ear. 

“No, no! Move it to next week! I will not let them threaten me in such a way.” He hissed into the phone, striding to the papers spread out on the dining table. He throws a glance my way, and I notice his eyes move about the kitchen. He saw all the things I took out and looked back at me in question. 

I couldn’t answer, as the person on the phone had grabbed his attention once again. He wore a simple Tee with a colorful graphic on it, along with some black basketball shorts. I giggled at the butterflies building in my stomach. I’ve never seen Hoseok in comfortable clothes like he is now. 

I took a deep breath as my eyes stayed on him. He was looking through the different sheets of paper on the table. He was muttering something, whether to himself or the person on the phone; I can’t be sure. 

His brows furrowed as he stared down, listening to whatever was being said to him. I leaned against the counter, my arm pushing some of the items I laid out. His hair was still damp, and disheveled. Probably the results of a towel being roughly rubbed over it. 

“They aren’t going to get a better offer. I am not going to use my time off to try to prove myself for some petty investment. I won’t call them, I won’t even send out an email.” He barked, rolling his eyes. 

Whoever he was speaking to, was slowly pulling him into a bad mood. My mouth scrunched up bitterly, hoping that work wouldn’t take up all his time tonight. I turned my focus back to the food, taking out the meat preparing it. 

I was zipping around the kitchen, Hoseok’s business banter fading into the background. I put the pot on the stove and got it nice and hot for the beef. Hoseok still stood at the table, making me wonder why he didn’t take a seat. 

He probably was hoping to not waste this night with work as well. His reluctance to sit down showed his effort of finishing the call quickly. 

I glanced towards the rice cooker, now that I wanted to pair sides of rice with the glass noodle dish. I looked in his, his eyes trained down on the table while he focused intently. I took small steps in his direction, my movement catching his attention right away. 

As I got closer, he put a hand on my lower back, turning his phone away from his mouth to look at me. I leaned in a bit, the fresh smell of his soap tingling my senses.

“Can I use the rice cooker?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice down so as to not let my presence be known to those on the phone. 

He smiled and rubbed my lower back in a very loving manner, “Yeah go ahead princess.” Unlike me, he didn’t whisper but spoke loudly, the tiny chatter I could barely hear from his phone had gone quiet. I went back to the kitchen and began with the rice and rice cooker.

“I was talking to my girlfriend.” Hoseok said as a matter of fact. He pauses and scoffs, turning his back to me while his tone grew sharp. 

“Mr. Robins, I told you it was my time off. Don’t act surprised now! You’ve already cut into an important night so might as well finish this.”

When Hoseok speaks again it’s been a few minutes. I’m cooking the beef in the pan, the cackling and sizzling of it in the pan drowning out his words.

“Tell them I said that such petty threats do nothing for me. Let them know that my offer has an expiration date.” He pauses, glancing at me.

“Also Mr. Robins, don’t call outside of work hours anymore. I allowed it in the past, but let’s not make it a habit anymore. So tonight is the last time. But yes, talk to you soon.” 

I turn my focus back to the meat, cooking it evenly before moving it to a plate. I start to put the noodles in the pot with boiling water and move to cut the vegetables I set out.

“Let me help.” Hoseok says from beside me. I jump, surprised to see him so close. His phone was no longer with him and set on the dining table. He looked down at me with a kind smile, his dimples on display as he did so.

“Okay,” I giggle, “Can you cut the vegetables for me?” He nods, and moves to the sink to watch his hands. 

“You made yourself comfortable,” He chuckles, looking over his shoulder at me. 

My cheeks warm up, “See, I knew you were going to say that. I was going to wait to ask if I could use your kitchen but I got hungry.”

We work in a comfortable silence, the sound of water boiling and the clunk of the knife hitting the cutting board. I drained the noodles and checked on the rice in the rice cooker. 

We work efficiently and Hoseok turns to randomly smile at me every few minutes. I giggled each time, asking him if something was wrong. He’d only smile and shake his head no. The noodles were just about done, and I was lightly stir-frying them with the beef and the vegetables. Hoseok was washing the dishes. 

This moment felt very domestic and I loved it. It wasn’t long before I was plating both meals and bringing them to the dining table. I gently moved some of the papers to the side, shuffling others together into stacks. Hoseok swiftly washed the rest of the dishes while I set the table. 

His quick movements revealed just how hungry he was. I can’t be surprised. I’m sure his lunch was earlier in the day, and the rain killed our plans. He saw me shivering and thought it’d be better to cancel the dinner reservation he had for after the movie.

We eat in silence for a bit, our stomachs were crying out for some food. The pleased exhale as he eats has me thanking my mom in my heart. 

The times she’d make me stay with her in the kitchen has come in handy. That’s how she’d try to bond with me, since work kept her away a lot. I naturally picked up on her recipes and at the young age of 12, I could cook dinner for the whole family. 

That’s how the dream of becoming a chef manifested itself. My parents supported it, believing that’s what I was really going to pursue. But it was a phase I held onto for a year. 

“It’s good?” I asked, taking my chopsticks and grabbing my side of rice. I put some rice in my mouth, watching Hoseok for an answer. He chewed and swallowed the noodles before grinning at me.

“You know it’s good.” He answered in a teasing manner, “I might have you over here every night.” He looks down at his food, missing the way my eyes widen at his words.

Have me over here every night? He was too focused on his food to notice my still figure. By the time I snapped out of it, a pregnant quiet fell over us. 

Once again it was a comfortable quiet. We were simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk every once in a while, Hoseok finding something to say that would cause me to laugh. Was he always this funny? 

I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing that he was speaking his thoughts more. I enjoyed it, gladly listening to whatever he’d have to say. 

“What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?” His question was coming out of left field, seeing as he was previously talking about how much he enjoyed the seasoning on the beef. 

“I’ll need to get home then get ready, so probably 8 am. They have me coming in later, since I’m only doing paperwork.” A slight pout on my lips as I spoke. Ugh, paperwork. It’s what I dislike the most about my job but I’ll be confined in my office doing just that. 

“Okay, I’ll drive you home, then to work.” He informs me, taking some more noodles in his mouth. 

I could only nod in response, and we returned to silence. We never really said that I’d be staying the night, but a wordless understanding was met. As I finished my food, I noticed Hoseok glancing at his phone, checking the time. I drummed my fingers lightly on the table, curious if he had something he had to attend to. 

I waited till he was done with his food, looking up to meet my blank expression. 

“What’s up?” He says simply, putting his chopsticks into the bigger glass bowl. 

I lean forward, setting an elbow on the table, “Do you have something to do? You keep looking at your phone.”

He blinks at me, trying to figure out how to respond. The guilty look on his face told me everything I needed to know. 

“I just have some contracts I need to write up. I didn’t want to ignore you while yo--”

I cut him off, vigorously shaking my head. 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I know you’re a busy man, and you weren’t expecting me to be staying here so you don’t have to entertain me. I’ll watch TV or something.” 

He raises an eyebrow at me, his hair now dry and ruffled out like it was just brushed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” I confirm, reaching my hand out to smooth out his hair. 

~!~ 

I only watched TV for an hour before I was growing bored. I grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. I passed various shows, seeing the scenes flash on the large flat screen for no more than a second. I groaned into defeat, deciding that I’d just review some medical notes from my email. 

I noticed my purse carelessly thrown on the loveseat adjacent to me. I stood up, grabbing the pursue and situating myself in that same loveseat. 

I figured that since Hoseok was somewhere in the condo working, I couldn’t disturb him much from the living room. I glanced around me, looking at the spiral stairs that led to the second level. 

Using bluetooth, I connected my phone to the Bose soundbar that the TV was using as an output. Music always helps me study and review. Whether it was patient files or some techniques that I had to brush up on. 

My phone showed that it was 11:47pm. After a long day of work, I would have been knocked out on my bed, knowing that another tiring day was waiting for me in the morning. I took note that my phone was at 56%. I’d had to go bother Hoseok for a charger soon.

I hit shuffle on my studying playlist, and opened up my emails to review patient notes. I won’t be working those cases till next week but it was good to show up prepared. I keep the volume low, leaving it just loud enough to fill the living room. If it’s too loud, Hoseok will let me know. 

I’m looking over files and notes on a burn victim, along with the progress on Mrs. Choi. Her physical therapy is going well. It’s moving slowly but they believe she will walk again, however it seems her motivation is dwindling. 

Her husband shows no signs of progress. He is still in a coma that leaves doctors to truly unable understand the length of the damage he has from the car accident. 

The notes were a lot. Long detailed files and charts for patients. I’ll be the one typing all these up when I head back to work. As the song changes to something with a faster tempo, I start bobbing my head to the beat. Soon my shoulders join in, having my body do a stiff and closed off jig in my seat. 

My attention was on the notes, so I wasn’t putting much effort into my rhythmic movements. I’m sitting there reading for some time, and when I check the time again it’s 12:54am. 

I take a break, locking my phone and dropping it in the loveseat as I stand up. My playlist is still on, a funky R&B song coming on just as I’m walking towards the dining room. I was going to head into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

I stop my steps, letting my hips sway to the beat in the middle of the living room. I close my eyes, mouthing the words and slowing my movements to the breakdown of the song. I let the song get to the chorus before I stroll to the dining room.

I walk to the beat, switching on the dining room lights. I could faintly hear the song, singing the song under my breath now. I don’t bother turning on the kitchen lights. I grab a water bottle like this as if my own home and dash back to the living room.

I barely turn off the dining room lights as my feet shuffle along the floor. I’m back in the center of the living room, opening the bottle to take a sip of water before setting it on the center table. The space between the center table and the couches was enough for me to dance. 

I just felt like dancing, forgetting that I wasn’t in my own apartment. However, Hoseok’s presence somewhere else in this place brought a sense of safety and comfort. The notes were all forgotten about as another song came on,having me rock to the beat. 

I’m circling my hips in a provocative manner, bending my knees and holding one arm up as I do so. I stick my tongue out a bit, feeling myself. My confidence is growing since I’m by myself. Or so I thought. 

I keep dancing, closing my eyes as if it could help me hit the high notes the singer was reaching. The slow winding of my hips momentarily stutter to a stop when two hands enclose either side of them. 

I jump, the touch startling me. I felt Hoseok’s chest against my back and his breath on the back of my neck. I let out a shaky breath as his crotch lightly brushed my butt. I hear his shallow breaths close to my ear. His hands are big, his hands are hot and grip me just right. 

Trying to shake off the hot and heavy atmosphere falling over us, I kept dancing as I was, humming the song as if nothing had changed. My butt brushing his crotch every movement. 

“Are you done with your contracts? That didn’t take too long.” I said over my shoulder. 

“I worked quickly cause I could hear you having your own little party out here.” His voice was playful. He placed a kiss on the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body. 

We establish a steady rhythm, his hips moving with mine. It wasn’t crazy sexual, but I was impressed by how fluidly his hips moved, along with the bit of distance he kept between my rear end and his crotch, like he was worried I wouldn’t like him pressed on me.

“I was reading some notes, but the music distracted me.” I answered, as a slower track came on. Our bodies swayed in a sluggish fashion. I lean my body back into him, my whole body pressed into him. I leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

“I can relate.” He says softly.

“Oh yeah,” I mention, “You said you wanted to be a dancer?” His hands on my hips are replaced by his arms enclosing my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his cheek against my cheek.

He giggles at the uncertainty in my voice, “Is it still hard to believe?” 

“A little bit.” I reply, “What type of dancing did you do?” 

Hoseok inhales and exhales slowly, looking forward like he could see the memorie playing before him.

“I’d dance whatever I could learn,” He says vaguely, “I was just happy to be dancing.” 

“You can still dance...with me. I’ll always be your dancing partner.” 

“Thank you for the offer Y/n...I’ll gladly think about it.”

“I mean I’m no professional, but I can stay on beat, and I like to have fun so you’ll never be bored.” 

He opens his mouth and closes it again, deciding not to speak. 

“But before you can even ponder on my offer, you have to show me your dancing skills! I need to see what you got!” I challenge, and his arms pull me in tighter to him. I could feel the steady hits of his heartbeat against my back.

The song faded to quiet, before another track began. It picked up a bit more than the last track, fun and quick tango beat to it.

Hoseok let me out of his arms, spinning me around to face him. I was astounded by the speed in which he spun me around. He clasped one hand of mine in his. He moved my other hand to rest on the bicep of his arm that had it’s hand placed on my waist. 

He straightened his posture, tilting his chin up a bit while he gazed down at me. 

“Just follow after me okay?” He said quietly, as if we were dancing in secret. 

I tried. I tried to keep up. The first few steps were rough. He was clearly moving a bit slower for me, waiting as I caught onto the basic steps, before he picked up the pace. It was easy to dance with Hoseok after that. 

He was truly leading me, surprising me with some quick spins and other flares of flavor. 

I giggled as he spun me, bringing me close to his body. My chest was falling and rising as I tried to catch my breath, staring back into Hoseok’s eyes. 

It was only a second as he began to move his feet again, having me follow along with the rhythmic steps. 

Now my arm was wrapped around his shoulder and neck, while my other hand was clasped in his. I yelped in surprise as he dipped me. So low I was worried he’d drop me. As he brings me back up, I let go of his hand and wrap my other arm around his neck.

He brings his face close to mine as we stand there, catching our breath. I, breathing a lot more heavy than him.

Hoseok shows a soft smile, wrapping both his arms around my waist. 

“Wow,” I say in-between small gasps for air, “You really can dance.” 

Hoseok chuckles at my dazed expression, leaning forward to kiss my lips. A peck so quick, by the time my eyes are fluttering closed, he is pulling away. 

“Do you want to get back to your patient notes?” He licks his lips, his eyes flickering down to my lips.

I shake my head, “I want you to kiss me again.” 

He hums in response, leaning in close to kiss me again. A short peck, followed by a lingering kiss. His arms around me tightened and melted into him. Our heads tilted as we deepened the kiss. My heart hammering in my ears, and my stomach twisting into nervous knots. 

His lips are soft, warm and welcoming. Everytime we kiss, it feels like I’m trying to get a message of my feelings to him. Hoseok, however, kisses me slowly and in a cherishing manner. Like it’ll be the last time he kisses me, like he needs me to breathe. 

Each and every time, I’m left weak in the knees. My heart is squeezing with delight. He doesn’t always say how he feels. A lot of time he’ll say it randomly or in passing, as if he didn’t want a whole moment around it. 

But the execution of his actions make me feel warm inside. 

The small touches, his hand on my back, the way he’ll pause a work call to listen to whatever I have to say. Picturing him as the same cold gentlemen I met nearly 4 months ago, makes my heart grow in size.

But that also makes me wonder, should I be the first to tell him I love him? Hoseok is so casual about things, whether it’s due to his discomfort or he doesn’t see the significance, that he might not say such words right out. 

The way he calls me his girlfriend now, although he didn’t ask me to be his girlfriend, shows he doesn’t see a need for all the formalities.

He sighs as he draws his lips away from mine, kissing my cheek, my jaw and then a small kiss on my neck. He hides his face in my neck, my arms tighten around him so we were hugging.

I bring a hand up to rest on his hair, “Thank you for such a fun date.” 

“You don’t have to lie Y/n, I know it was sucky.” He says, his lips brushing against my skin.

“It wasn’t at all. I had fun, I always have fun with you.”

“I’m not exactly the life of the party Y/n.” 

“You’re a lot more fun than you think. You’re also a lot kinder than you realise. I know you were probably exhausted, but you still went to the movies with me.”

“And you cooked for me,” He smiles. I know cause I can feel it against my neck and collar bone. I thought he was going to say something else, his statement felt incomplete so we stood in silence as I waited for him to speak again.

When he didn’t I listened to his soft breathing. 

“You’re clearly tired, so let’s get you to bed okay?” I said. He drew back from me, staring at me with jaded eyes, and I could only giggle at the tired pout on his lips. He was totally starting to fall asleep in my arms.

I pinched his cheek and pecked him on the lips before stepping out of his arms and walking over to my phone left forgotten in the love seat. I disconnected it from the soundbar from my phone, and switched it off. 

Hoseok goes to turn off most of the lights, leaving the small doorway light on. I followed him up the stairs, my strides slowing down as we got to the hallway. 

He stopped walking, leaving me just a view of his back. He looked to the door on his left, before turning to me. 

“So here’s the guest room.” He said gesturing to the room. 

I awkwardly nodded, rubbing my hands together and walking closer to him, opening the door to see a plain but nice bedroom.

A larger twin size bed with a desk closet and a TV. 

I stare at the room, knowing that Hoseok was also watching my reaction.

He’s being considerate. He doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable by assuming I’d want to share a room with him, but damn I’d like if he’d at least ask me. I don’t want to deal with the horrifying embarrassment of telling him I want to sleep in the same bed. 

The rain was still falling, the occasional thunder sounding, but this time further away.

“Alright,” I say, turning to face him. I muster up a smile, and open my mouth to speak. 

Hoseok is looking at me with a rigged smile. 

“Good n-”

“Y/n?” Hoseok cut me off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looks off to the side as he thinks.

I blink up at him, knowing what he wants to say. This shouldn’t be a big deal! Why are we both feeling so nervous? I’ve already had my hand around his dick for goodness sake! 

“I want you to come sleep in my room...with me.” He finally looks at me, staring at me with a cute uncertainty. 

I laugh, “Good! My goodness! I thought you weren’t going to say anything!” I chime, stepping out the guest bedroom. I closed the door behind me and saw Hoseok’s scoff of disbelief.

“What?” I ask.

“You were just going to watch me stress like that? Why didn't you say you wanted to sleep in my room?” He complained.

“Oh please! I don’t need to be the one making all the first steps!” I hissed, poked his chest.

“Plus, you’re the one that led me to a guest bedroom! I’ve already had my hand around your dick for fuck’s sake!” I add, giggling and the wink he gives me.

“Do you want it in your hands again?” He whispers, stepping closer to me. I back up, pressed against the guest bedroom door. He smirks at me, placing a bashful kiss on my cheek.

“Stop messing around!” I say, slipping past him while he snickers at my shyness. 

“Or, would you rather have it in your mouth this time?” He jeers. My eyes widen and I start screaming as if to run from the embarrassment that was manifesting it’s in my warm face.

He laughs at my cringing squeals, taking my hand in his and leading me towards the door at the end of the hallway. 

His room is dimly lit, but I could make out the beautiful ivory colored walls. The bed was a large king size bed that sat low. The black bed frame was low, only lifting the mattress off the floor a foot or two. The bedsheets were a rich and dark green, tying together the whole aura of the room. There was a tall lamp that stood on the left side of the bed, and it was the only light on. 

Though it was nothing compared to the lights fixtures in the ceiling, it didn’t leave me completely blind and in the dark. 

I wasn’t aware of how weird i must have looked, standing there, staring at his room like I’d never seen a bedroom in my whole life. 

 He squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my daze.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” I asked, blinking at him. 

“I was saying that the bathroom is that way.” He pointed to a door on the further right side of the room, “It’s the door on the right. There is an unopened toothbrush if you want to brush your teeth.” 

He released my hand and scratched the back of his head. He looked down at the floors as he spoke, making me want to giggle at the embarrassment that was showing itself in his red ears. 

It made me feel better to remember that it isn’t just me that has never had such intimate and close moments with people. Something like having my own toothbrush at Hoseok’s place is a big deal. It’s an unspoken step into new territory. 

“Thanks.” I said softly, walking around him and further into the room. The room was spacious but also cozy. It was pretty simple and showed that Hoseok doesn’t spend much time here. He works all the time so I’m sure he just plops down and sleeps. 

He doesn’t sit in here to relax or anything like that. I heard the door close as I walked towards the bathroom, followed by the sound on Hoseok sitting on the bed.

I brushed my teeth swiftly, admiring the bathroom as I did so. One of those big showers with the tile walls, and glass doors. There was also a big white bathtub on the other side of the room. The sink was large and in the middle of a long rectangular marble counter. I stare at myself in the crystal clear mirror, feeling a bit out of place as I stare at my extravagant surroundings.

I continued to brush my teeth, and rinsed my mouth thoroughly, I set the purple tooth brush in the cup that held another orange brush. I used one of the towels to wipe off any water from around my mouth and walked out the bathroom, shutting off the lights. 

When I step out I’m met by Hoseok laying on the bed, his back to me. I couldn’t be sure if he’d fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to wake him. He was under the blankets, and looked like he’d settled in for the night.

The lamp on his side of the room was off, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. The moonlight shining through the window provided enough light to let me see the outside of his body. I tiptoed  over to the bed, lifting up the blankets and sliding in. The bed and everything around me smelled like Hoseok.

I smiled to myself, and looked up at the ceiling before closing my eyes and turning onto my side. My back was facing Hoseok, and I tried to keep some space between us. I wasn’t sure how much space he wanted. 

I slowly started to fall asleep, the comfort of the heavy blankets and the scent of Hoseok around me lulling me. 

I was barely awake when I felt Hoseok shift beside me, muttering something in a hoarse voice. 

“So far away.” He grumbles, before I felt some more shuffling. He slid his arm under my body, causing me to hum in response, since I was barely awake. 

My eyes stayed closed and I turned my body so I was facing him. That’s clearly what he wanted, as he wordlessly curled his arm up, pushing my body till my head was on his chest. I was too sleepy to say anything. All I could do was cuddle closer and rest my hand on his chest. 

“Are you awake?” He asks softly. When I don’t reply, he shifts slightly so his face is buried in my hair.

I fell asleep peacefully as his hand found my back and rubbed soothing circles.

~!~

“Why did you choose today of all days to follow the speed limit?” I mutter at Hoseok. He chuckles but keeps his eyes on the road. He wasn’t going his usual speed today, and though I find his speeding distasteful, today it would have come in handy. 

We woke up late, which is no surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my whole life. Being in Hoseok’s warm embrace soothed me all the way down to my soul. Although we were running late, he was still in a good mood.

He drove me back to my apartment, waited for me to get dressed for work, and is now driving me to the hospital. I won’t see him most of today, but we agreed to see each other tonight.

As we pulled into the Seoul Sky hospital, I had my passenger door opened before the car came to a full stop. I grabbed my purse, making sure it had everything I needed. 

I leaned towards Hoseok, kissing him on the cheek before kissing him on the lips shortly. Two pecks on the lips before I pulled away beaming at him. 

“I’ll see you later.” I said. 

He showed me a small smile and nodded, “See you later.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard!” I exclaim as I step out of the car, “And remember to eat!”

I close the car door and Hoseok rolls down the window, “Even when you’re in a rush you still manage to nag me!” 

“I nag you because I l-” My words stop short and I clasp my hand over my mouth. Hoseok, oblivious to what I was about to confess, raises his eyebrows at me in question.

“Because you..?” He trails off, but all I can do is smile awkwardly. 

“See you later!” I shout and bolt away from the car. I don’t look back as I jog through the automatic sliding doors. 

“Good morning Dr. L/N!” A nurse calls out to me. I stop in my tracks, recognizing the nurses at the front desk. I smiled, waving at them energetically.

“Good morning!” I chimed. 

“You’re running a little late aren’t you?” The older nurse stated. 

I nodded my head but before I could open my mouth, the rest of the nurses giggled. 

“You don’t have to explain, we could see it through the glass doors. Time moves quickly when you’re in love.” The older nurse said.

I stood there a bit confused before looking behind me at the sliding doors. It really was a perfect view of where Hoseok had stopped the car. I turned back to the nurses who were cheesing at me. 

  “It’s wonderful to have you back Dr. L/n, let us know if you need help with anything.”

I thanked them, heading to my office quickly. I was in a rush so I settled on some black dress pants and a blue dress shirt. My hair was styled in a rush so it looks decent. I made it to my office, happy to see it again. It wasn’t locked, which is strange but I didn’t think much of it. I set my bag down and grabbed my white coat. I pulled it on quickly and went to my desk. 

All I’ll be doing today is paperwork so I might as well get comfortable. I took my seat and turned on my computer, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Jennie waltzed in here with all the work I’d have to do.

The computer switched on quickly, but something else took my attention. On my desk was a red envelope. I waste no time opening it, thinking it was a welcome back card. Oh how I was wrong. 

Dear, Y/n. I am so glad to have you back. The whole department has felt incomplete since you left. I was very hurt when Jennie informed me that you weren’t allowing anyone to visit you as you recovered. You did not answer my phone calls either. I was sad to hear you got hurt and fell down the stairs. It seems your boyfriend isn’t taking good care of you. But I am glad you have recovered fully. Please come see me when you have the chance. This may be inappropriate but the absence of your presence has helped me realize something. 

Sincerely Taemin. 

I stared at the letter in confusion. Now what the hell is Dr. Lee doing? What is this? My face scrunches up in annoyance as I read over the letter again. This is completely inappropriate and leaves me feeling uncomfortable. 

I’ve turned down Dr. Lee’s advances before, taking them as jokes but by the sound of this letter, he wanted me to take his advances seriously. I ignored the login screen of my computer and stood up from my chair with the letter in my hand. 

I stepped out my office and headed down the hallway, knowing that Dr. Lee would be making his rounds instead of being in his office. I’d have to go around a bit before finding him. But sitting on such an issue would leave me unable to work all day. 

I rounded the corner, greeting regular patients with a small smile. Some of them told me they missed me and others smiled at me with shining eyes. For a second I forgot about the awful letter Dr. Lee left for me. I am back at work and even though I’m stuck with paperwork, the atmosphere was enough for me. 

I turned around a corner and crashed into a familiar person.

“Hey, there you are!” Jennie chimed. She smiled at me, wearing her usual red lipstick and that iconic slicked ponytail was just as sharp as ever. Her eyelashes look really long and she looked happier than usual.

“Yup, I’m back to work. It feels great.” I answer. 

“I’m sure your date yesterday went well? You’re radiating happiness.” She mentions.

I raise an eyebrow at her, “Am I? Cause I'm pissed off.”

Her brows furrowed and she looked concerned. The question she was about to ask was clear.

“No, it has nothing to do with Hoseok. The date was...amazing.” My tone softens at the mention of Hoseok.

“So what’s got you so angry, so early in the morning?”

I handed her the letter, watching her face expression change as she opened it and read it. 

The humorless laugh that struggles it’s way past her lips makes me wanna scoff all over again.

“This is weird.” She groans. 

“It’s very weird.” I double down, “This is totally inappropriate. You know I am chill about many things, but I don’t like stuff like this at work from co-workers! How many times have I rejected him? This isn’t harmless banter anymore.” 

I speak in a low voice, watching as different nurses and doctors pass us. 

“Are you going to bring this up to Hose-”

I cut her off, “Of course not! I haven’t seen a jealous Hoseok and I don’t think I want to. He’ll come in here and scare Dr. Lee. Working here will be even more uncomfortable.”

“I know he’s on the second floor.” She says, and points towards the elevator not too far from us. 

“I can’t be sure how he’ll react so could you come with me?”

“Of course! Did you think I was going to let you do that alone? Let’s go!” She takes hold of my arm and pulls me along. 

While in the elevator she tells me about all the awful comments he’d make while I was gone. Jennie brushed most of them off but a few were too much.

He’d say, “Where is that boyfriend of hers?”

“That guy looks controlling. She doesn’t want me to visit her or he doesn’t?”

And a few more that were totally unfitting for a work environment. She wasn’t even going to bring it up to me, but she didn’t expect ‘love letters’ to start becoming a thing.

The elevator doors opened and before we stepped off we could hear chaos. Jennie and I looked at each other in disarray. We stepped off the elevator to hear loud yelling and shouting from different people. Other patients were running away from the noise, telling us that it was coming from our right.

Our stroll turned into a speed walk, and I hid the letter in my lab coat pocket. We turn the corner and the yelling is louder. 

We see Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin, a newer doctor standing outside a familiar hospital room.

“Mrs. Choi?” I mutter to myself. Jennie and I approach the situation, Dr. Lee being the first one to see us. I don’t miss the way he smiles when he spots me. I had to fight a grimace off my face.

“What is going on?” Jennie askes, catching Dr. Shin’s attention this time. She moves her focus from Jennie and right to me. 

“Oh thank you goodness you’re back Dr. L/n! Please calm these ladies down!” She cries, running her fingers through her auburn hair. 

I take a look into the room, the door being wide open. There was Mrs. Choi screaming at the top of her lungs at another woman. This woman was a lot younger than her, looking to be in her late 20’s. Her hair was long and brown with soft waves. She wore stylish jeans with boots and a lovely top and a lovely trench coat. 

From the wonderful jewelry on her neck and the rings on her fingers, she’s clearly someone who is well off. Both women were red in the face while they screamed at each other.

“Who is the younger lady? Why haven’t you called security?” I looked at both Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin. 

“Well…” Dr. Shin hesitated to speak, looking down at her feet in guilt. 

“So I was wonder why Mrs. Choi didn’t have any family? She was feeling so down lately and her husband wasn’t getting any better. The psychical therapists said she was losing motivation in their sessions so I tried to help.” Dr. Shin looked up to find my dubious face expression.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “What did you do?” I hate how accusing my tone was, but the hospital Dr. Shin transferred from told us she would cause trouble. A lot of nurses have been avoiding her. Some say she’s too spunky, and focuses too much on making her personality shine through.

“I did some digging and it turns out she has kids! There was no information on the son, but I was able to find her daughter! So I invited her daughter here as a surprise.”

Both Jennie and I groaned. 

“You can't do things like that!” Jennie scolded.

“I know, I know! But I didn’t think things would turn out like this!” She whined.

I couldn’t say anything to Dr. Shin as the argument between the two women was escalating.

“What is the daughter’s name?” Jennie whispers. 

“Her english name in Helena. We don’t know her Korean name.” Dr. Lee answers. 

“You don’t get my pity mom!” Helena shouts. She’s standing at the end of her mother’s bed tears running down her cheeks. 

“You set me away! You pushed everyone away! You tricked yourself into believing dad was a bad person because you wanted an excuse for falling out of love with him! You could have just divorced him!”

“You don’t know what I was going through!” Ms. Choi shouts back.

Helena snaps back just as quickly, “You sent me away! You sent me away from you, dad...Hobi.”

Hobi? Who is that?

“I sent you away because I wanted you to be safe! I love you Helena!” Mrs. Choi’s voice was growing hoarse from the screaming and  I was getting ready to jump in.

“Bullshit!” Helena spits, “Bullshit! You sent me away and never called. I never even got a fucking letter. I grew up without you. I graduated college without you. I moved on with my life without you. You never cared for me. You were so fucking focused on Hobi! You just wanted me out the way. No one would tell me where the fuck Hobi was so I couldn’t find him to even attend dad’s funeral.”

Dad’s funeral? So Mrs. Choi’s husband who is in the coma, is not the father of her daughter?

She vigorously wipes her tears off her face, “You keep telling yourself you did what you had to when in reality, you’re just a shitty person.”

“Am I?” Ms. Choi croaks, “Am I really that awful because I thought I deserved to be happy?” 

“Your journey to happiness left a path of destruction for everyone else. You’ve lost you fucking mind if you believe anything you did was okay.” Helena’s voice toned down. The both of the basked in the heavy silence. 

Helena let out a solemn chuckle, almost like her mother was the joke.

“Well, mom,” she emphasized the word ‘mom’, “Did you find the happiness you wanted?” I couldn’t see her face fully, just her profile...but she reminded me of someone.

She shows her mom a sarcastic smile, “I mean look at you. Look at where you are. Your new precious husband is stuck in a long sleep and they don’t know when he’ll wake up. Your legs aren’t working and you’re all alone. I only showed up so I could get the years of hurt off my chest. So since you can’t run away…” She gestures to her mom in the bed. 

“I’m gonna finally say, fuck you mom. Dad was never the bad guy. Hobi might have been gullible enough to believe your foolishness but I always saw right through it. It was you...it was always you. You don’t deserve any happiness.” She finishes, glaring at the old woman staring back at her with sad eyes. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that. I will waltz in here every day and remind you that this is a product of your own choices. When you’re ready to apologize I’ll listen.” She grabs her purse from the guest chair and turns to face all of us at the door. 

Her eyes flicker across  each of our faces and I feel a prick in my chest. I feel weird. Should I know this lady? Something tells me I should know Helena but I’m drawing a blank. 

She pushes past us and down the hallway.

No one speaks to Mrs. Choi and she doesn’t speak to us. We all can only shift in discomfort. No words could bring comfort after such harsh lashings were thrown. We can only look on in distraught cause for some reason...the pity we’ve felt for poor old Ms. Choi was no more. 

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Alrightty, what did you guys think?! Things are progressing right! We’re moving into the next phase of the story! Yay! 

Tell me what you think? What do you think will happen next? How do you feel about Mrs. Choi? Was she right in what she did?

Inbox me too! I love hearing y’alls thoughts!

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Princess Part 6

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Link to Part 5 

Parings: Regulus Black. Mentioned Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Rating: Explicit- smut warning 

________

“It's Christmas Eve tomorrow. I still have to get your mother’s present.”

You said as Regulus pushed a small path through the hordes of people that were out snagging last-minute gifts.

“I figured that you would have had everything done weeks ago.”

Regulus commented, rolling his eyes as the fourth person ran into him. You wrapped your arms together around his to prevent separation.

“Well, I would but she’s been hovering over me since we returned home. It's hard to buy a present with her breathing down my neck, however, I could have turned around and asked her if she liked whatever the item was.”

Regulus smirked.

“Father got her a nice necklace and diamond ring this year. I thought last year’s gift to that self-help seminar was a wonderful gift. Father was right. Mother needs to get out of the house more and network with other basketcases.”

“Regulus.”

You said his name with a sly smile remembering last year’s horrible Christmas disaster when Orion gave Walburga those tickets to that seminar. Walburga didn’t speak to Orion for three weeks. She, instead, insisted upon following Regulus and yourself around questioning everything that the two of you were doing?”

“So, is this what teenagers are doing today?”

“Regulus, do you really have to play quidditch? What if you fall or hurt something?”

“Where is your jumper?”

You could still hear her shrieking in your mind. Both Regulus and yourself had politely dealt with Walburga’ meddling. The two of you were too polite to say anything to her. It wasn’t until Orion came home with jewelry did she start speaking to her husband again.

Even Kreacher was delighted for his mistress and master to be speaking again. The poor elf had taken refuge under Regulus’ bed resulting in sex not happening.

“Master and mistress, just pretend that Kreacher isn’t here.”

Both Regulus and yourself were looking at each other with disturbing expressions and given up on whatever thought of sex that was once had.

“I know what you are thinking about and Kreacher is not living under our bed for three weeks again.”

Regulus whispered, rolling his eyes. The two of you had finally gotten to a place where people weren’t running into you. Regulus pulled you closer to him.

“Yes, we don’t need a house-elf living in our room again. That was awkward.”

Regulus glanced over his shoulder. His eyes had stopped on the candy store that had the one type of chocolate his mother enjoyed.

“I’m going to run in there quickly. Mom needs her chocolate fix. Are you coming?”

You shook your head upon realizing just how many people were in the store.

“Go ahead. There are too many other humans in there. I’ll wait for you here.”

Regulus shrugged and disappeared into the shop. You took a breath and looked down at your watch. 7:30...Walburga was probably wondering where the two of you were. Forget the fact that Regulus and yourself were almost adults. Walburga, after Sirius’ departure, turned up her worrying over Regulus (and yourself too) to new heights.

When Regulus’ dark mark started burning and he had to leave, Walburga turned into a worried child whose blankie was in the wash. She would pace the floor until her son returned home. Her out of character behavior was never mentioned, however. If someone mentioned Walburga acting differently over Regulus now, she would deny it.

“Y/n?”

You looked up the moment that you heard your name being called. The moment that you met the source, you froze seeing Sirius standing in front of you. A few feet behind him stood James and Lily Potter.

It had been ages since you had seen or spoken to Sirius last. After he ran away, Walburga made it crystal clear that she didn’t want Regulus or yourself speaking to him. Regulus was just fine obliging to his mother’s request. Your lover wouldn’t admit it but he was devastated by his brother leaving. Sirius leaving was, in Regulus’ mind, Sirius saying that he didn’t care for him anymore. It was harder for you to stop talking to Sirius cold turkey. The two of you had always been friendly. You were the go-between when he was having issues with his brother or mother.

“Hello, Sirius.”

You said, softly before looking around to make sure that Regulus wasn’t coming back. Regulus would be livid if he saw you speaking to Sirius. Livid or jealous...which one it would be was yet to be determined. Regulus has always been jealous of your friendship with Sirius. Why, you weren’t sure. You had been dedicated to Regulus since day one. He was the one that you played wedding with. Regulus was the one that you followed around like a shadow and vice versa.

“It's good to see you! It's been a long time...I heard that you agreed to marry Regulus.”

You could tell Sirius was struggling with the subject. There had always been a part of Sirius, whether he wanted to admit it or not, was sour that you didn’t “choose him.” After all, you had been meant for Sirius in the beginning. When you took to Regulus that plan was shot to hell.

“Yes, we are getting married after school is over. How have you been?”

You asked, changing the subject. Sirius shrugged.

“You know me...just going about here and there. I’ve been doing some traveling. I have a question and it's a bit awkward to ask but I need to know…is Reggie really a death eater? As the person that knows him the best, I figured that you would know.”

You blinked a few times seeing Regulus step out of the store. His eyes instantly narrowed on his brother as a cold glare set on his face. Sirius noticed it too.

“We don’t have much time. Blink once for yes and twice for no. I won’t tell him a thing.”

You blinked twice. Sirius put his head down, knowing that it was a lie. The moment that he looked back up, you blinked once. Sirius wanted nothing more than to offer to help keep both Regulus and yourself safe. He wanted to get his brother out of that mess but he knew Regulus would never say yes to him or the order.

“Look who it is.”

Regulus said coldly as he finally reached you. His arm went around your waist as Sirius met his eyes.

“Regulus, it's good to see you.”

Regulus only stared at Sirius. He made no move to speak to his brother. It didn’t matter deep down that Regulus wanted to talk to Sirius. He wanted nothing more than to beg his brother to forgive him for being so cold but that wouldn’t happen. Regulus was “the good son” and his parents were counting on him.

“We should go, Y/n.”

Regulus said before wrapping his wrist around your hand and tugging you with him. Sirius held his hands up.

“So you aren’t going to say anything? You’re just going to stand there like some kind of zombie?”

Regulus turned.

“You don’t deserve a moment of my time.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the hurt expression on Sirius' face as Regulus tugged you along with him. There had been many run-ins with Sirius when he was still at Hogwarts that resulted in Regulus hexing his brother. Many MANY times you were pulling Regulus away as he shouted any insult that he could at Sirius. When you couldn’t get him away it was Evan and Snape hauling him off.

“Can we slow down?”

You snapped as you almost lost your balance for the third time. Regulus turned and glared down at you with jealousy in his eyes.

Lovely…

You thought. It was going to be one of those nights. Nothing that you had to say would please Regulus at the moment. It didn’t matter that it was his engagement ring on your finger or that you were chasing after him. All that Regulus could think about was the fact that you were supposed to be Sirius’ betrothed. The insecure side of him questioned in you or Sirius actually cared for each other and was just too good to say it.

“Let’s just go home. We don’t need to talk.”

Regulus replied before turning and starting back in the direction of Grimmauld Place. This time his hand wasn’t around yours making sure that you didn’t get pulled off. Regulus had shoved his hands in his pockets and reminded you of a jealous child.

“Fine.”

You commented before following him. If he wanted to be difficult then you would let him.

Thankfully Walburga and Orion were in bed when the two of you arrived home. You immediately followed Regulus to your shared bedroom. He took off his jacket and tossed it carelessly on the floor.

Shaking your head, you reached down to hang it up.

“Leave it. That’s what Kreacher is for.”

Regulus snapped. You blinked a few times having to bite your tongue. There were a lot of things that you could say to Regulus at the moment but you didn’t want to sleep alone or end up sleeping on the sofa.

Regulus had started the fire in the fireplace before sitting down on the sofa to glare coldly at the flames. He knew that he was being childish but he didn’t care. You didn’t seem to realize how much Sirius still hurt him. Seeing you talking to the jerk with none other than James-Fucking-Potter close by was enough to make the jealous little shit in Regulus come roaring back with a vengeance.

You gave Regulus half an hour to “get over himself” before plopping down on his lap in emerald green lingerie that left little to the imagination. Regulus was still scowling as he looked you over. You sighed.

“Stop acting like a child Regulus Black. I’m your fiance and you know it.”

Regulus sighed.

“If you weren’t my fiance I would be worried about you sitting on my lap dressed like this, princess.”

You smiled. There was your prince charming.

“I was saving this for our wedding night but given our current situation I figured this would be better than me just rolling around naked on your lap.”

Regulus reached up to stroke his hand over your cheek.

“You don’t see how he looks at you.”

You frowned.

“Are we still talking about Sirius?”

Regulus nodded.

“Uh-huh. He looks at you like you’re something to eat. I see how his eyes roam over your body. He doesn’t seem to understand that you are mine.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned into the kiss Regulus’ lips. He didn’t stop you. The kiss was tender for a moment before leaning backward further on his lap. You knew that you would tell him all about Sirius dating Remus Lupin. Why this was so lost on Regulus was still a mystery. You could have picked those two out as lovers without either of them saying anything.

“I assure you that he sees me as nothing more than a friend. Reggie, he knows that I am devoted 100% to you. He’s known it for a long time. Besides, I don’t have what Sirius needs. I’m made for you.”

Regulus had to grin at that though. Hell yes, you were “made for him.” Your bodies fit together perfectly. Everything about the two of you went together.

“Princess, you’re killing me.”

He groaned as you wiggled your ass on his now prominent erection. You giggled before kissing his bottom lip.

“I’m down for some nice jealous sex.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow before harshly pulling your upper body against his.

“Well, then love, you are in luck. All of your slutty self is all mine.”

He growled against your lips before possessively kissing you. You reached up tangling your fingers in his curls. Resisting the urge to start tugging, you instead stroked your hand through his hair earning a moan from your lover.

Regulus’ hand had fallen to your ass and roughly squeezed your plump flesh. He gently pushed you backward on his lap.

“I believe we should take this to our bed.”

You didn't wait to be told twice before getting up and hurrying to your shared bed. Regulus had gone to the door to lock it. The last thing that he wanted was his mother walking in and screaming when she realized what was going on. He turned to look at you as you pulled back the heavy duvet and blankets.

Your foot became stuck in one of the soft blankets resulting in you slipping. Regulus had rushed forward and caught you.

“You’re so clumsy. If I wasn’t around to catch you all of the time, you would forever have broken bones.”

“Yes, lucky for me.”

You said, kissing him and laying back on the bed. Regulus shook his head and began to undress. Your heart began to pound the moment that you heard Regulus’ belt unbuckling then the loud noise it made upon hitting the hardwood floors.

Regulus was on top of you before you were able to formulate another thought. His hand immediately went between your legs and shoved the emerald thong to the side.

“Oh, look at that, you are wet...just as I suspected. You’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

His voice was almost mocking as he glared down at you. You knew that game that he wanted to play now and as messed up as it sounded, you were excited.

“Why wouldn’t I be wet for you?”

You squeaked when Regulus shoved his index and middle finger inside of you.

“You could be wet for him too.”

“It's always you, Reggie. I only want you.”

You gasped as he scissored his fingers. Regulus didn’t reply. It wasn’t until you reached out to wrap your hand around his length did he push you away.

“No touching.”

Regulus leaned down and smothered his face in your neck. You swallowed as he bit down. A pornographic moan left your lips as he continued to manipulate your already spasming core. Regulus’ breath on your neck was hot as he sucked love bite after love bite onto your neck. There would be no mistaking on whose woman you were.

You whined the moment that his hand left your body. His grey eyes silenced you with one disapproving look. You fought back as he tugged the emerald thong off and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Now, where were we?”

You wanted to scream to answer the question...Right here! We were right here! Just touch me! Anything!

You knew that, however, would get you nowhere. Regulus would probably get out of bed and leave you moaning for him. He wouldn’t come back to you until he was good and ready.

“You’re such a good girl, princess.”

Regulus praised you as he took his length in his hand. You moaned as the tip rubbed over your clit then down to your entrance multiple times.

“Reggie, don’t be a tease.”

“Who said that I was teasing?”

Regulus replied. His face was dead serious. He had returned to his stoic reserved nature as he continued his game. A loud moan escaped your lips as Regulus shoved in. His hand instantly clasped around your mouth.

“Hush now. Mummy will hear us.”

Regulus whispered before giving you a little grin. He knew exactly what you were thinking about. That little comment alone brought back memories from years past. Regulus would make that comment when the two of you were early teens and started messing around. Gone were the days where Regulus could get off by seeing you naked. You could simply take off your shirt for him and let Regulus put his mouth or hands on you. He would barely touch himself and come. Now things were different. You had to work to make Regulus come.

“You’re a fucking tease.”

You said with a giggle as you took his hand in yours and brought it to your lips. Regulus leaned back on his heels but made sure to remain snuggly inside of you. His eyes winded as your mouth wrapped around his middle and index finger. You sucked the digits like you would if they were his cock.

“Love, you call me a tease.”

“Then fuck me…”

“You asked for it.”

Regulus hissed before pulling out and slamming back into you at a furious pace. You couldn’t help crying out as he ravaged you. Regulus didn’t care that the headboard was slamming into the wall and that you were screaming. Too much blood had already left his head to leave him incapable of thinking of anything other than fucking you. His goal was to leave you so sore that you couldn’t put your legs together the next morning.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, leaving you light headed as your body began to spasm around Regulus’ length. As much as you enjoyed sensual lovemaking, you equally enjoyed Regulus using you as his own personal toy.

“I need to come.”

Regulus groaned. You moaned at his words alone. Your body tightening was enough to push Regulus over the edge. His body shivered as he emptied inside of you.

“Come, love.”

He choked out through his own orgasm before teasing your clit with his fingers. It took two or three circles before you were coming screaming his name like a prayer.

Regulus was the first to pull out. His come coated your thighs as he leaned down for a kiss.

“Shall we have round two?”

Before you could respond, someone was pounding on the door. Regulus’ face went scarlet as he looked down at you. Your eyes were wide as Orion’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Okay, you two...we have heard enough for one evening. Go to sleep!”

_______

@amelie-black

@realgaytrash

@scarletscross

@truly-insatiable

@swinginsoulbailiffrascal

@velveteencurls

@spiderxalmighty

@sunles

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@hankypranky

@li0nh34rt

@tas898

@maggioli-m

@marichromatic

@stuckinsaudi1

@knight-of-gleefulness

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@shaylybaby2032

@emiwrites3reads

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@sprnaturallover

@wontlookaway

@mycuddlycorner

@shitfaceddaniel

@wontlookaway

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so I am just the worst. I'm very sorry for that. I will make an effort to stop being the worst. I'm already starting writing for the next chapter. It will be out next week. If it is not, please pester me until it is. If nothing else, the next chapter should be relatively interesting, so.

Chapter 15

“So then I was like, ‘Screw you, man, you don’t know me.’ Because he was being a dick.”

You nod, taking another sip from your straw. “So he was.”

“Well,” Casey continues, gesturing with his pizza slice, “that’s why he gave me a black eye on the ice. And now Annie won’t talk to me.”

With a sigh, you reach up, wincing slightly as the muscles in your back crack. “Well,” you smile tiredly, “that does sound like a predicament. Want me to try talking to her?”

“Nah.” He leans against his hand, taking a bite of his food. “It’s whatever. Didn’t like her, anyway.”

You smirk. “Bullshit.”

“Smartass.” He rolls his busted eyes. “How’s your boyfriend?”

“Nonexistent.”

“Bullshit,” he mimics. “Isn’t he all over you?”

“Hardly.” You wave your hand dismissively. “‘Sides, he doesn’t want a relationship, I bet.”

“You slept together.” He swallows. “You slept together and he didn’t make a pass at you.”

“What does that prove?” You take another drink. “Just because he or I want it to happen doesn’t mean that it should.”

“Bullshit,” he sings once more. “You’re just scared of commitment, I bet.”

Your face flushes. “That’s not it!”

“Then why not ask him?”

“Look,” you fumble for an excuse that was not ‘He’s a ninja,’ “he’s really busy, what with his sports and science stuff. I’m lucky he has time for me at all; what we have is fine until things calm down a bit with him.”

“So never.”

“Pretty much.”

Another bite. “If he’s so smart, won’t he be going off to Harvard or some shit? Shoot your shot.”

“Who are you to give me relationship advice?” You push him, placing your hand on the pizza box between you on the bench. “You just fucked up with Johanna.”

“Maybe the reason you two are still virgins is that you’re both smartasses.”

“We’re like fifteen!” You laugh. “What, you’re a lady killer now?”

“Hey, I’ve made my rounds.” He grins. “You know the blond chick? Jenny?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “She is completely out of your league, Jones,” you huff. “Know your place.”

“And she’s in yours?”

“Did I say that?” You take another sip. “No, I did not.”

He sighs. “I’m gonna set you up.”

You blink at this sudden change in subject matter. “Huh?”

“There’s this guy on the team who has a thing for you.” He takes another bite of his pizza. “I promised I’d try.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” He leans back on the bench, head flopping back. “We’ve been buddies for a while.”

Your eyes trace the cracks in the pavement carelessly, weighing your options. “Where?”

“I’m looking for a yes or no.”

You fiddle with your collar. “Which guy?”

“Carter from bio.”

With bright green eyes, long black hair, you can hardly describe him as ugly. A bit pompous, but not irredeemably so. The idea of going on a date with another man-- another human, no less-- is hardly unappealing, especially given the fact that you are almost completely certain that whatever you have going on between yourself and Donatello is going to go exactly nowhere. It would be nice, you know, to go out to lunch or dinner with a pretty boy.

Your gut tells you it is a bad idea. Your gut also told you to go try and check out Shredder’s lair that one time, and now you could not walk.

“I’m down.” Why not? Life is about taking risks that do not result in your lack of motor functions. “You got his number?”

He nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting you the contact. “He’s a good guy,” he promises. “He’s not gonna try shit, probably.”

“You sound certain.”

“Shut up.” He scrolls through his phone. “Who knows, though? Maybe you’ll like him more than your guy and you won’t have to keep pining over him.”

“And there’s the ulterior motive.” You cross your arms, setting the cup on the ground. “If I get stood up, it’s your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He leans his head back forward, picking at his nails absentmindedly. “Whatcha gonna do? Fight me?”

You smirk. “It’s as realistic as you getting with Jennifer Barker.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans and taking the box. “I’m taking this.”

“Have at it,” you follow suit, checking the time. “Don’t eat it all at once.”

“I will absolutely ignore your advice.”

“Obviously.” You wave. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

The walk home is long, as always, but with every passing day, you get better at walking with one good leg. Having lost it in the dumpster with little more than reassurance that knowing whoever took it needed it more than you do, you have learned a thing or two about balance, and yet you still quietly long for your other leg. ‘It would be nice to be able to run places,’ you muse. ‘It would make me feel better about walking around at this time of night.’ With all the walking you have to do— you still do not have a metro card because you are foolish— you are still relatively strong, but getting places without hobbling and having the option to run away would be nice.

You unlock the door to your apartment. ‘Just a couple more days before I can walk properly again.’ You pull it open, kicking your shoe off.

Someone is sitting on your couch.

You take a shaky step back— ‘I can’t run’—, tripping on your feet and falling on your back in the hallway, your drink spilled on the floor. It is as if your body is struck with lightning, every nerve on edge as you crawl away, voice caught in your throat as you try and get as far away from the door as possible. Your body drags with you.

Too slow.

A hand grabs your ankle. It drags you back into the room with barely a grunt, and with a slam, the door shuts, and you are locked with a figure whose face you cannot see.

The door locks.

The figure lets go of your ankle, heart pounding in your heart as you try and reach for the doorknob, tears pricking your eyes. You can barely use your hands again, progress gone in an instant. ‘Don’t kill me.’ You pray to stop shaking. ‘I can’t die here. Not after everything that’s happened.’

The light clicks on.

“What the fuck is your deal?”

Your eyes snap open. A rush of embarrassment slams into you, a wave of shame making you hot all over as you become painfully aware of the fact that you look absolutely pathetic, clawing at the door.

You pull yourself to your feet shakily, turning back to look at Raphael. “You,” you mumble, opening the door and grabbing your keys from off the floor, not even bothering with the cup, “are the fucking worst.”

“You’re the one that’s all jumpy.” He rolls his eyes, sitting back on the couch. “Who did you think it was?”

You scramble for another answer. “I don't know,” you snap. “If you didn’t know, I’d like to introduce you to the concept of texting someone before you sit ominously on their couch.”

“You’ll live.”

“Barely!”

He sighs. “Sit. We have to talk.”

You toss your keys onto the counter, shakily hobbling over to the kitchen, hands clenched still. “You talk.” Your voice starts to stabilize. “I’m going to have a drink and wish it was alcohol.”

“Do you remember the first month you were here?” He crisscrosses his legs. “A week or so in?”

You lean down, grabbing a drink container. “When Mikey almost got kidnapped? Yeah.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

“Do I remember what I said over two months ago? No, I do not.” You set it on the counter, reaching into the cabinet and pulling a plastic cup down. You consider a glass one but did not want to clean glass shards off of your floor again.

“Then let me remind you.” He leans back into your couch. “You said, and I quote, that Shredder doesn’t get close to murdering Master Splinter until season two, whatever that means.”

You nod, setting your hands on the counter until they stop shaking. “What about it?”

“Shredder gets close to killing my father.”

You sigh, dreading the ensuing conversation. “Look,” you reason, “it probably won’t get to that if we’re smart.”

“The first word I think of when I think about our group is not smart.”

“It’s one guy.” You lean against your hand. “So long as he doesn’t pull a Leo and martyrs himself—“

He cuts you off. “What does martyr mean?”

“If he doesn’t throw himself in harm's way for the sake of the greater good—“

“So my Leo throws himself in harm’s way?”

“Have you met your brother?” You try and grab your cup. “Of course he does.”

His eyes widen. “So you’re telling me my brother dies too?”

“I did not say that.”

“But you—“

“The point,” you snap, “is that so long as your father values his own safety, he will be fine. There are preventative measures that we can take to make sure he doesn’t kick the bucket, so for now, worry about how you’re going to survive.”

He gets up. “How does he go the first time?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?” He stands in front of you, staring you down. “Why won’t you?”

“Because you’ll kill yourself over it.” You pick up your cup, taking a sip. “If I told you what happened in the future, you’d pull something to try and defy that, right? Then we wouldn’t even know what it was anymore, and our one tactical advantage would be shot."

“But—“

“I only tell you,” you cut him off, “about certain things so you can prepare to face them, not to try and avoid them. There are very few exceptions to that rule.” You set the cup back down, staring back. “There are things we can do to prevent things from happening, but not right now. Right now, our top priority is to make sure the Kraang don’t kill us all.”

“How come you get to know stuff we don’t?”

“Because.”

He throws his hands up. “Oh, well if that’s the reason—“

“Do you have anything else you wanna say or are you planning on just being up my ass?”

He closes his eyes, hands together as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Yes, actually.”

“What?”

“Karai approached us today when we went to check our Donnie’s stupid signal thing.” He opens them again. “She wants to team up.”

“Cool.” Your voice softens. “That’s good.”

He leans against the counter. “Can we trust her?”

You take another drink. “Trust is a strong word right now,” you sigh. “Aligning with her is a good idea, though. Just trust her as far as you can throw her.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well,” you shrug, “you can trust her to get you things and give you access to stuff. Just keep your guard up is all. Be diplomatic about it and you’ll be fine.”

He nods. “Cool.” He smiles. “Donnie’s been very anti-Karai so far.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “No idea why?”

You shake your head. “Thought he’d like having a kunoichi on his side.”

“You’d think.”

“Well, he’s gotta get over it some time.” You take another drink. “Preferably sooner than later, though. Fucking with Karai…” you shudder. “She’s incredibly powerful. If we can stay on her good side, it would make our lives easier.”

“Ours, you mean.”

“I have a stake in this too, you know.”

He scoffs. “How?”

“We’re on the same planet.” You reach down, fixing your pants over your cast. “Plus, I’m a target of the foot by association.”

“You aren’t fighting with us.”

“Would you rather I did?” You look back up at him. “Because when I do it seems it’s in the wrong way.”

“It would be helpful if you weren’t useless.”

“But I am, so it isn’t.”

“I guess.”

You stand back up straight. “Is that all?”

“Nope.” He walks back to the couch, sitting down. “I’m staying here a bit. Leo’s being an ass.”

“How so?”

“Same way as per usual.” He leans back into the couch. “Thinks he’s better than everyone.”

“And you don't have a better place to hang?”

He shrugs. “My brother likes you well enough. Besides, I want to know the person who’s making all of these big decisions in my life.”

“So it’s because you don’t like me?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds paradoxical.”

“So?”

“So,” you lean your head against your hand, “why would you want to talk to me if you don’t like me?”

“Because your brother likes you,” he repeated. “If you’re going to be hanging around a ton I might as well try to like you.”

You smile. “That is incredibly mature of you, Hamato.”

A scoff. “You can’t call us all Hamato.”

“Watch me.” You hum, taking another sip from your drink. “Can I get you anything, by the way?”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.” You reach into your bag— luckily, nothing has fallen out— and pull out your phone. “I just need you out by eleven-thirty. It’s a school night.”

“Even without being involved in our fights,” he shakes his head, “you are a total pussy.”

“Suck me.” You grab it off the counter, carefully carrying your cup to your bed. “And keep the noise down. “My neighbors have been pleasant and I want it to stay that way.”

“Buzzkill. You clearly don’t spend enough time with Mikey.”

“You know,” you grin, pulling out your notes as you sit down, “your brother says the opposite. Donnie, I mean.”

“I figured.”

You glance over at the window as he fiddles with the remote. “How did you get in?”

“The window.”

“No shit.” You look back over at him. “Red button, but I lock the window."

“No, you didn’t.” He clicks the button. “It was unlocked when I got here.”

“Huh.” Another stream of electricity flows through your veins. ‘They know where I live.’ You swallow.

“Must’ve forgotten.”

You did not. You would not forget. There was no way you could have, or would have, forgotten to do something like that.

“Must’ve.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 14

Chapter 16

[happyandticklish]

Behave

Notes: For the anon request. The request was slightly vague, so I tried to improvise a little. I hope you like the result! ^^

Summary: Shizuo has a habit of picking Izaya up whenever he tries to stir up trouble, to mischievous results. 

Causing general mayhem and disaster was one of Izaya’s favorite activities, and Ikebukuro was one of his favorite cities to do so in. The chance of bumping into some kind of natural disaster was almost inevitable, and on the rare occasion of peace among the streets, Izaya was always willing to stir something up himself. Sometimes this something could be the beginnings of a gang war. And sometimes it was merely messing with small children.

Life was full of surprises that way.

“And just what do we have here?” Izaya inquired, folding his hands in front of himself as he stopped before a group of children gathered on the park asphalt. There were three of them, a young girl with a box of chalk clutched protectively to her chest, and two boys, who had previously been drawing out an outline for hop-scotch, who both looked to be about a year or so older than her.

The first boy glanced up at his comment, shooting him a suspicious glance. “Playing a game,” he answered stiffly, clearly waiting for the man to say anything in the negative about it.

“So I can see,” Izaya agreed, surveying the scene before them. “Hop-scotch… I remember playing that game as a kid. How do the rules work again?”

“Well—” the girl started hesitantly, but before she could say anything more, Izaya had begun hopping from one foot to the next over the squares provided. He wobbled a bit as he went, all with an assured smile. For his finale, he jumped forward with both feet, landing on the discarded pieces of chalk and cracking two of them easily.

“Hey!” the girl cried, eyes widening. “I just got those!”

“Oh!” Izaya clucked his tongue, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed his work. “Well that will never do. I guess we’ll just have to break the other ones to match. Would you terribly mind handing over that box?”

The girl hid the box quickly behind her back, which wasn’t the smartest of defensive moves but it was all she had. The second boy appeared to be taking in the scene cautiously, clearly not wanting to get himself involved. The first one however, took an angry step forward, glaring up at him.

“Leave her alone!” he protested, portraying a level of bravado he didn’t feel. “Or I’ll—I’ll—”

“You’ll… what?” Izaya inquired, leaning down to face him with a devastating smirk. “No, continue, I’m truly curious—what exactly could you do?”

The boy stammered over his words, trying to think of any kind of witty reply but coming up blank.

“Leave the kid alone.”

Izaya sprang up, whirling around at the sound of the telltale voice. “Shizu-chan~! So nice of you to drop by. Decided to enjoy the spring day as well?”

One hand shoved carelessly in his pocket, Shizuo Heiwajima stood bathed in the gentle lamplight of the sun, surveying the scene casually. In place of his usual angry scowl, however, there was a bored, almost dismissive look on his face, as though dealing with Izaya’s shit simply wasn’t worth his time. Instead of answering, he stalked over to the other with quick, forceful steps, until they were inches away.

Izaya staggered back a little, taken by surprise by the direct approach. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Shizuo had leaned down, grabbing Izaya around the waist, and hauled him over his shoulder. Izaya squawked in an undignified manner, gripping onto the back of Shizuo’s shirt for support.

Shizuo kicked the broken pieces of chalk back over to the children with a grunted, “here”, before turning around and heading off in the opposite direction, Izaya in tow.

By this point a burning crimson had begun to overtake Izaya’s features, and he could see the faces of the children from his vantage point, all of whom seemed delighted to see him in the embarrassing position. “You know, you can’t simply pick me up whenever you feel like it,” he huffed, reaching back in an attempt to swat at the back of the other’s head.

“Oh?” Shizuo easily avoided him as Izaya struggled to maneuver his arm in the right position. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?” he asked, parroting Izaya’s earlier words.

Izaya narrowed his eyes. He kicked one of his legs out, aiming to get a direct hit at his stomach. Unfortunately, legs do not generally go in that direction and he primarily ending up flailing around a lot and sometimes hitting the other’s arm in the process. This was not troublesome all on its own (Shizuo had definitely endured far worse from the flea), but it did prompt an idea. The next time one of Izaya’s legs came too near his face, he grabbed it with his other hand, gripping his fingers into the denim protecting the backs of his thighs.

Izaya let out a strangled noise, managing to somehow disguise it as a cough at the last moment. Shizuo’s hand remained on his thigh, his fingers gently tapping where they curled around his leg. Izaya’s breath caught in his throat as he realized suddenly how very, very fucked he was.

“S-Shizuo,” he said, trying as desperately as he could to keep his growing panic out of his voice. “I really think you should let me down now.”

“What’s wrong?” Shizuo asked calmly, his fingers tapping out a rhythm of doom against his jeans, each and every one causing Izaya to twitch against his will. “You sound suddenly concerned. Is something bothering you?”

“Shizuo, not again,” Izaya gritted out. Memories were flooding back to him of a week ago, causing butterflies to excite uninvited in his stomach. “If you think you can simply pick me up like a common stray and t—” he broke off, pressing his lips together into a firm, irritated line.

“And what?” Shizuo questioned, tossing a teasing glance back at him. Amusement danced in his eyes, and never had Izaya wished to punch him more than in that moment. “What exactly is it that I can’t do?”

“I believe you know perfectly well what I mean,” Izaya replied with a sickeningly pleasant smile. “After all, seeing as it has for some reason become one of your favorite activities to do to me, I dearly hope you know what it is.”

“And I would hope you know what it is, considering you appear to love it so much,” Shizuo shot back, pinching the back of his thigh suddenly.

“I w—shit!” Izaya lurched forward, his body’s instinctual response to save himself from the sensation. His arms flailed wildly, searching for a handhold, and eventually clinging onto the back of Shizuo’s shirt. Shizuo stiffened, trying to ignore the strangely pleasant shudder that ran down his spine as Izaya’s fingers brushed his back. He shook it off, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Shizuo outlined a path of small pinches down the back of Izaya’s thigh, making the man jerk and squirm with each one, though he managed to stifle any noises this time. Once he had gotten Izaya properly ramped up, he removed his hand entirely, giving the other a momentary reprieve.

Izaya exhaled slowly, glad for the break. After a moment of nothing happening however, he threw a confused glance back at the other. “Are you done t—ahAHAHAHA, ohohoho shIHIHIHIHihihit!”

Izaya burst into wild, uncontrolled laughter as Shizuo suddenly dug his fingers into his thigh, pressing into just the right pressure points to make the other go positively mad. His hand came back instinctively to try to rip Shizuo’s hand away from the spot, but his current position prevented him from doing so. The sudden, intensive tickling caused a hysteria that weakened Izaya instantly, his eyes crinkling up into a series of wild giggles and shrieks, a euphoria he didn’t often allow himself to feel lighting up in his chest. His legs kicked out with reckless abandon, but nothing he attempted saved himself from the relentless attack.

Just as suddenly as he had initiated it, Shizuo stopped, allowing his hand to merely rest on the other’s leg. Izaya wheezed helplessly, burying his face in the back of the other’s shirt. His skin tingled with phantoms of the earlier attack.

“I’m sorry, you were going to say something?” Shizuo asked innocently.

Izaya weakly lifted his head, shooting back a venomous glare. “You utter ahahAHAHASSHOLE, nohohoho, nOHOHOT AHAHAhagain!”

Izaya fell back into hysterics as Shizuo once again started up with his thighs. It was a testament to Shizuo’s skill that he was able to keep a firm hold on Izaya whilst torturing him, all the while continuing to stroll through the streets as though nothing was happening. By this point, people had started to stare, dumbfounded by the sight of a grown man thrashing and howling with laughter, hoisted like a misbehaving child over another man’s shoulder.

“S-Shihihihizuo!” Izaya squawked, pounding his fist against the other’s back. “StahAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!”

“Sure,” Shizuo agreed, smirking as his fingers found a particularly unfortunate spot that had Izaya screeching. “Just say, ‘Shizuo is superior to me in every way’. You can do that, can’t you?”

“F-FuhuhUHUHUCK YOHOhohou!”

Shizuo clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I’m afraid that’s not it. Want to try again?”

Izaya tried. He really did. He used every ounce of self-control he had to try to either bear the sensations wracking his body or to somehow escape from Shizuo’s hold. But the embarrassing position combined with the results of a death spot being targeted in such an effective manner eventually did him in and he cracked.

“OhOHOHOKAY! OHOHohohohokay!” Izaya cried, frantic giggles interspersing his words. “S-Shihihizuo ihihis—ahAHAHAha, nohohoho wahahait—Shihihizuo—gahAHAHA! Gihihive mehehehe ahahahaha seHEHEHEHehecond!”

Shizuo reluctantly complied, momentarily stilling his hand. Izaya panted heavily, attempting to get any amount of air back. Once he’d finally regained enough breath to speak any semblance of coherent words, he raised his head and grinned back at the other. “Shizuo is… a fool for thinking I’d ever say anything inherently false as that. Sorry, try again next time.”

Shizuo’s confident smirk quickly transformed into an irritated scowl. “You little—” Instantly there were hands at his thighs again, only this time he attacked the other one which had thus far received no attention from their little game. Izaya let out an honest-to-god squeak, unprepared for the switch. He pulled at Shizuo’s shirt, needing a handhold as he faced the unbearable sensations. As he did so, however, he noticed the way his tugging had ridden Shizuo’s shirt up slightly, revealing the bare skin of his lower back and hips.

Izaya was struck with a sudden idea.

Shizuo flinched as he felt two hands grab onto his hips, fingers curling into the skin in a manner that was unmistakably ticklish. His hand faltered on Izaya’s thigh as his lips tugged into a reluctant grin, a couple growled giggles escaping him.

“I-Izaya,” he threatened, still holding onto Izaya but doing little else besides that. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Why?” Izaya teased, scratching his hips once more and feeling the man shudder beneath him. “Feeling a bit nervous now that the situations have reversed?”

“I’ll drop you,” Shizuo threatened.

“I’m not worried,” Izaya dismissed, clearly having fun with the sudden power dynamic. “Haven’t you heard? Cats always land on their feet.”

“Mind if I test that theory?”

“Now, now, no need to be grumpy.” Izaya squeezed his hips again and Shizuo choked on a stifled giggle. “I get it. You can dish it out, but you can’t take it. It’s fine, really. I’ll just be using it to my advantage now, is all.”

“L-Like hell you are!” Shizuo stammered, attempting to pull Izaya off his shoulders. Izaya yelped, grabbing onto Shizuo’s hips for support, causing the man to stumble forwards, releasing him in one go. With a startled cry, Izaya tumbled off his shoulders, and Shizuo jerked around, just managing to catch him by the arm as he hit the ground. It wasn’t a complete save (and Izaya would be complaining about being sore for days after), but it did prevent him from slamming into the concrete.

Izaya stared up at Shizuo, panting a little, his gaze focused on the place where Shizuo still gripped his arm. With a cough, Shizuo quickly released him, straightening up. “Are you…” he started slowly, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. “Okay?”

Izaya blinked, at a momentary loss for what to say, before his usual smirk returned to him. “Of course I’m okay, dear Shizu-chan. More than okay, at that.” He clambered to his feet, dusting off his jeans and trying not to focus on how his tailbone ached from slamming into the ground. “Because now I know your weakness, locked away in my brain for all eternity. But don’t worry—I’ll only use it against you as often as you’ve used mine against me. Now if you don’t mind, I really have some important business to be attending to, and must take my leave. Farewell, my dear brute.”

He saluted the other mockingly, whirling on his heel and quickly walking away. Shizuo’s frown of confusion as he watched him go quickly transformed into one of irritation. “You bastard, get back here!” he exclaimed, taking chase after him. “Who said you get to have the last word, huh?”

Izaya laughed merrily as he sprinted ahead, the two quickly disappearing into the chaos of the city. No matter what happened, nothing ever really changed between the two. One info broker, one bodyguard, locked together in continuous battle.

And as Izaya rounded the next corner sharply, his smirk turning into something almost giddy from the chase, he found he didn’t really mind if it meant he could hold the beast’s attention for even a moment longer.

[octania]

Midnight guardian (Dabi x Reader 18+) (END)

This is the last (end) chapter from Midnight series.

Chapter 1- Midnight stalker

Chapter 2- Midnight hunter

Chapter 3- Midnight shadow

Word count: 5.5 k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, violence, blood, kidnapping, domination (Dabi is a dom), rough play, spanking, insulting, rough sex.

Short description: If you drive a wild beast into a corner, it will surely bite. But what if you didn’t intend to threaten it but help it instead? What if you could withstand that bite, would the result be worth that effort? You walked into the lair of villains for that bite, and the reward you received for your bravery, you could only dream of.

______________________________________________________

Now it was clear to you how you knew that voice and for a second you wished you had never heard it. The gray hand, as if there were no drops of blood in it, settled on the face of the white-haired villain. You didn't have to see his features to know who he was. Shigaraki, the leader of The League of Villains. The woman holding you on your knees, stroking your cheek with the cold blade of a knife, was Toga. You shuddered when you remembered her preferences and enthusiasm for the bloodshed. The person at the bar who casually polished the crystal glass was Kurogiri, and the man filled with adrenaline, who was now bending down to your face and mumbling something under his breath, was Twice.

"She looks so familiar ... but I'll be damned if I remember from where ..." - he said without stopping to get in your face. You felt the cold metal of the knife drag over your cheek to your ear, moving strands of hair that fell to your face.

„Maybe it is because she is hiding under that pretty hair of hers ... but if I cut her, I can take her shape and we can have a better look! Doesn't that sound so fun!! ”- Toga leaned over your shoulder. You jerked instinctively, but the grip on your shoulder only got stronger.

"You don't seem like you want to play ..." - her voice became darker, more impatient, and the blade was now pressed with the tip into your back.

"Enough ... I want to know why she's here. You'll play with her if she doesn't answer my question. ”Shogaraki commanded in a calm voice, not even turning to you. He kept his elbows on the bar, playing with some kind of cards with one hand.

"Don't make me ask you obvious questions ... it annoys me ... you'd better tell me yourself who you are and who sent you here." he said, tossing the card in front of him.

“N-no one. This is a mistake. I was just..just walking by. ”- couldn't you really think of anything better? You cursed yourself at the uncreative answer you gave him. Now if you start correcting yourself, it will look even worse. You could feel your response hit Shigaraki's first nerve.

 "You didn't ask who we were..that means you know about us." - he began, slowly turning to you on the bar stool."Anyone that knows about us and it is just walking by, and if he is sane ... would never stop to eavesdrop on our conversation. Unless, they were looking for us in the first place. ” - he tilted his head, and Toga pulled your hair, forcing you to raise your head higher.

“You look very sane..so it must be the other part. I must admit, I am disgusted how the police and heroes send such ... weak scouts to search for us. And they say that value life .. ”- something like laughter could be heard under the hand that covered his mouth. "If they did, they wouldn't sacrifice their people like this ... so easily." – you felt pain in your ears from Toga’s unpleasant laugh. The blade pierced through the light summer dress you were wearing, now sinking slowly into the flesh. The sound of pain escaped your lips.

"Nothing can beat a nice whiskey and the sounds of someone's painful cries in this midnight hour." - Another familiar voice reached your ear canal, but this time, you knew exactly who it belonged to. You turned your head as far as Toga's grip allowed, to find the source of the voice. You could make out the shape of a man's body with the corner of your eye. Very quickly the scene became clearer to you. The wide muscular back hidden under the white T-shirt moved toward the bar. His black haired head tilted back, not even looking at you. Dabi.

He carelessly turned to the inside of the bar, ignored Kurogiri’s warning not to step on that side, and retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the higher shelves.

“Relax, I am just making your job easier. You don’t have to serve me plus I won’t even dirty one of your precious glasses. I will even take the paper coaster so I don’t ruin your tables, maid. ” he took a paper coaster, he winked and continued in a mocking voice as he opened a bottle of whiskey, pressing it to his lips. He took a couple of big sips, only then turning in your direction. His tight grip around the bottle almost completely loosened, making the bottle almost fall from his hands. The arrogant grin had left his lips, and his eyes were barely restrained from widening completely from the shock. The panic was unfamiliar to him, but the feeling quickly let him know it was there. He managed to restrain the sudden reactions. He stared at you for a few seconds, barely taking his eyes off you, before it became too obvious that something was wrong.

"What is this?" - he did his best to sound as natural as possible, but his body was slowly tensing.

“What does it look like? We got a gift from the police force ... ”Shigaraki replied, seemingly irritated. He stood up and took a few steps toward you, opening his palm and pointing it toward your face.

“Let’s return the favor, but with a little alteration.” - his sinister voice made the blood in your veins froze. You pushed yourself backwards with your knees, trying to get back from his hand. Your eyes watered, fear and panic permeated you more and more, as you watched helplessly as the hand that could have turned you into a rotten corpse came closer and closer. You cast a desperate glance at the person you found yourself in this situation for, instinctively almost uttering his name.

"Wasting an opportunity like this is moronic ... even for you Tomura." - without waiting for an answer, Dabi found himself next to Shigaraki.

 "I thought leaders should have bigger brains ..." he continued. Shigraraki clenched his fists, barely restraining himself from turning around and grabbing Dabi with his quirk. He did not intend to suffer insults.

“You want to join her? You would be a nice rotten bow on top on her decayed body as a present. The heroes would love the sight of that ... and so would I. ”- Shigaraki threatening gaze met Dabis icy eyes. Wild tensions could be felt, the smell of the impending bloody fight to the death. But Dabi made a completely different move. A casual smile dawned on his face.

"For someone who plots shit all the time, I would expect you to see the value in this present sent to us." - he squatted in front of you, as you stared at him with tears in your eyes.

“D ..” - you almost said  his name, but the rough surface of the paper coaster that Dabi shoved in your mouth silenced you on time. His fingers pushed the paper thing deeper into your mouth, gagging you with it. He pulled his fingers out, staring you down, while his other hand reached for your jaw, squeezing it without mercy. His gaze was blank, warning.

"Killing her without getting any information out of her or at least using her as bait is wasteful." He said as he put his hand on your back, grabbing you by the collar of your dress. He pulled you without difficulty, pushing Toga off your back and forcing you to lean on your feet.

"This is the girl that was on the news ... the one that they failed to protect and got those scum of the heroes killed. Don’t you think it would be a real social disaster if it turns out they failed again?"- he said, pushing the tip of a bottle of whiskey into your chin with the intention of raising your head so that everyone could take a good look at you.

 "Yeah! You are right! I knew I saw here somewhere before! ”- Twice shouted, snapping his fingers.Expression on the Tomura’s face under the hand got suspicious.

 "Really? As I recall, you were close to that shit storm yourself that night Dabi. What a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? ”- He said in a voice bathed in sarcasm.

“I told you already. I was following Endeavor as we planned. ”- he lied, holding a firm and threatening expression on his face, on which one could easily read that doubting him brought him to the edge.

"Yeah ... sure," Shiaraki replied through gritted teeth, not giving the impression that he fully believed Dabi's words.A minute of uneasy silence and tension passed before Tomura finally shrugged and turned her back toward the bar.

 “We shall use her then. Get her to sing before we return her ashes to the heroes, showing how they failed to protect the bitch, again. ”- he waved his hand disinterestedly. Toga jumped up, raising her hand as if reporting for duty.

"I can play with her!" - there was excitement in her voice, but before she got the boss's approval, Dabi pulled you closer to him. "He said ashes you psycho, not blood." - he pointed out, smiling now from ear to ear.

“Besides, I have a strong feeling I need to prove my loyalty to Shigaraki, so let me show him just how much loyalty I carry inside.” - something dark and ominous was in his words, making you shiver while he pushed you to start walking to the door that led to the other side of the building where they had their rooms.Before you left, you heard a muffled growl behind you, accompanied by a low yelp. You paused for a second. You looked over your shoulder. You could see his clenched jaw and you could see him moving his free hand. A movement that looked like  he is pulling something out of his lower back. After a couple of seconds, there was a sound of metal falling to the floor. You looked down. A knife, Toga's knife, dripping with blood.

"That's for taking my toys." she said.

You could barely stand on your feet after he abruptly pushed you into a room that looked like a warehouse. A pile of cluttered old things piled up at the corners. You almost fell after old blankets got tangled under your feet as he pushed you. The sound of the door closing with a loud smash echoed the room. You turned around, only to find yourself face to face with the enraged man you had decided to look for. You were confused, but you didn't expect to see this kind of rage on his face after he apparently saved you from certain death from his colleagues. Without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulder without restraining his strength. His fingers sank into your soft skin, and you could feel the bruise already forming. A slight sob escaped your gagged mouth.

 "You think that hurts doll?" He hissed through his teeth, leaning over you. He covered you completely, he was quite taller than you and his broad muscular torso seemed giant compared to your small figure. He grabbed you by the lower thigh with his free hand.

"Then this is going to be much worse if you don't plan on being honest." - Anger radiated through his body, the tone of his voice was cold and sharp as a spear. A scream of pain came from the depths of your throat, barely muffled by the paper that had been shoved into your mouth when Dabi released his flame onto the skin of your thigh. After a few seconds, the flames receded, but he did not move his hand.

 “You are one of them, aren’t you ?! That fake heroes, that lying scum of the earth! They sent you, thinking that is such a clever move! Well this time it is game over, do you hear me ?! ”he roared, entering your face. Electric blue eyes aimed into the depths of your soul.

 “Let me guess, it’s some kind of ambush. There are here, close… and you are the living bait. I hope it was worth it, doll. The only reason I didn't let Shigaraki turn you into a rotting mess is because I wanted to do the job myself, to show you what happens when you try to fuck with someone like me. ”- the flame licked your skin again, forcing and to a new muffled scream. You barely retained consciousness because of the pain that you were feeling.

“Because I am capable of anything and everything. Now let us see, will you have the decency to make your few last words the truth. ” - he suppressed the flames, pushing his fingers into your mouth to take the paper out. You coughed, spitting pieces of melted paper. Tears blurred your gaze, but you raised your head, looking in the direction of his waist.

 “Are..are you alright? You are bleeding… let me help you. ”- you whispered under your breath looking at the white T-shirt soaked in fresh blood. The wound he had received from Toga's knife had not stopped bleeding, but he had forgotten it for a moment. His lips parted in a thin line, and his eyes widened in shock. He didn't know what to say, his thoughts lost. You ask him if he's okay after he hurt you and threatened to finish you off? And your eyes… that look again. The lack, or rather, the total deficiency of experience with this type of person made him react defensively. He knew no other way.

 “Cut the bullshit!” He shouted once more, but you ignored him, tried to reach out to him, intending to look at the wound. Your plan resulted in his abrupt withdrawal to avoid your touch. He grabbed your wrists, raising your arms to the height of his shoulders. He almost lifted you from the ground, you were now standing on your toes.

 “Why did you come here ?! Answer me! ”- you could feel his warm breath that smelled of whiskey, because of how close he was to you. Your whole body ached, but you kept a gentle look, you know why you came here. Well, at least you thought you knew.

 "I came because… I wanted to ask you a question." - you were aware of how stupid this answer was, and his facial expression confirmed your suspicion.

“You came here… in the fucking lair of villains to ask me… a question?” - he uttered the sentence in syllables still in disbelief. Your cheeks took on a gentle shade of red out of shame because the  stupid move you made was just so obviously…stupid.

 "Yes. "- you whispered. This if it wasn’t so tragic would be ridiculous. And it was for him, just for a moment. White teeth protruded from under his lips as he laughed briefly.

This girl…

“Then ask. I really want to hear the worth-risking-your-life question. ”- he said in a slightly softer tone, but bathed in sarcasm. The grip loosened, so you could stand on your feet normally. You buried your teeth in your lower lip, silent for a few seconds. The question you wanted to ask was forbidden and certainly a trigger for an even greater surge of rage in him.He faked his own death to keep the truth hidden. If your theory is true of course, and you will only know that if you ask a question. Curiosity burned you even in this relentless moment, but more than that the fact that you might be able to help him if you were right. Help your pursuer, yes, the common sense award this year definitely goes to you. However, something in you could not be swayed, it wanted to take this risky step forward in the hope that you would be able to save him. You felt connected to him. You let the right conclusion go through your head and you adopted it, and that was - He was that part of the darkness you so desperately wanted. The part you craved. The part that was not darkness in itself, but bore its features, but you believed… no, you knew, that inside everything was not as black as its exterior. The fear was almost completely lost for a moment after this realization.

"Are you the poor boy that was declared dead twenty years ago…" - you looked up, catching the irises that looked like broken ice. You pushed your palm toward his burned face while he still held your wrists, touching his scars with your fingertips. “… That they said died in an accident, by his own quirk ..” - you could see his gaze clouding, going distant.

 "Touya?" - it seemed as if he had fallen into prison of his own consciousness. His expression was empty, petrified. His mouth was only a millimeter open, motionless. You could not even imagine what horror and tragedy the memory of that long-forgotten and discarded name had now produced before his eyes. He could clearly see every scene that took place twenty years ago. He could see the intense blue light that hurt his eyes, but that pain was nothing compared to the one that came after. After releasing his quirk on a level he couldn’t control and all because of a monster who lived for only one thing, power. A power he could not attain on his own, and he wanted to find supremacy on someone else's back. Now, in his memory, he looked again into the relentless eyes of his so-called father, who did not even blink as his son's own flame swallowed him like a wild beast. He deafened to every scream, every call for help. He blinked, returning to the present, but the anger he had kept buried for so long was now released and traveled through every part of his body.

“You like digging for things that are none of your business… huh, (Y / N)?” - he smoldered with resentment. His fury sprang to life, as he slammed you on the wall behind you.

 “You think you had the right to look for things that don’t concern you?” - he roared as the anger continued to build up in his chest. He masked his vulnerability to himself, drowning it only deeper in rage.

 "Let us see how you like the taste of your own medicine." With his free hand he reached for the strap of your dress on your shoulder, pressing his finger on it. A blue spark appeared, burning a thin shoulder strap in a second, forcing one part of your dress to fall over your chest. You had no way to stop him from exposing your breasts, you could only silently watch the situation unfold. Sinister smile appeared on his lips, as he pulled the fabric more down, releasing one of your soft breasts. Your cheeks flushed as tears welled up in the corners of your eyes again, but you didn't fight back. You didn't even say a word, and he expected at least one pleading scream to come out of your mouth. But he did not intend to wait for your reaction, but wrapped his palm around your breast, squeezing it tightly, playing with your soft flesh without shame. He trapped your nipple between his middle finger and index finger, pinching it. A sob came from your throat.

 “How does it feel when someone touches something that does not belong to them? Do you feel violated, huh (Y / N)? Do you feel like you have been wronged? Exposed? Vulnerable? ”- he growled the words, catching your gaze, expecting to see the despair in your eyes, to see the fruit of his punishment. He was stunned once more to realize that there was not even a trace of any emotion he just mentioned. Your expression was soft, slightly embarrassed but not in the way that indicated unease, you were biting your lip, as your cheeks were dark pink. He paused, but not letting you go.

"N-no. No I don’t, Touya. ”- you moaned as you pushed yourself against the wall with all your strength, pulling your hand behind your back towards freedom. Before he could react, you grabbed the other shoulder strap of your dress, lowering it over your shoulder so that the dress would now fall all the way to your hips, uncovering the other breast. He was distracted once more, your every move was unexpected, something he couldn’t have foreseen, and that was usually one part of his job, reading people, and he was good at it. You, you were the opposite, everything that confused him and made him react instinctively, even if his reaction was wrong in the end. This time there wasn’t too much to make a mistake in judging your move. You wanted this, you wanted it. Why? Only God knows, but he would be damned if he asks another question, he was too caught up in the view in front of him. The view on your half naked body and precious expression on your face, that was glowing with the thing he was dreaming to get from you all along, consent. His palm rested on your jaw as he pushed his index finger into your mouth, running it over your soft salivary muscle with his rough finger.

“Name is Dabi, doll. You better remember the taste and shape of every latter in that name… ”- with his tongue he now followed the lines of your collarbones all the way to the other nipple.

“Because you will be saying it a lot in the next twenty minutes.” - he bit your nipple lightly, then mending the bite with the tongue. You cried out for the first time, releasing the sweet moan of pleasure that was building inside you. With his other hand he continued to play with your nipple between his fingers, twisting it and pulling, making your sensitive flesh sent electric rushes of ecstasy through your body.

“D-Dabi.” - the first defeat in saying the name he wanted, but you didn’t mind it. If this is what he wants, you will obey if the result is him opening up in the end.

“That’s it. Again. ”- he murmured the order while still sucking your delicate nipples. You answered with a few more loud moans shaping his name, and the reward was so worth it. He lowered his hand from your chest, exploring the shape of your body all the way to the end of your dress. He pushed his hand under the fabric, touching your thighs, looking for his way to your most intimate part. He could feel the heat between your legs, forcing his body to react harder. His cock was already rock hard, protesting under his jeans, demanding to be released. But not yet, he wanted to explore you a bit more with his hands. He pushed his knee between your legs, spreading them, making his way between them.The surface of his finger finally touched your already soaked panties. Satisfied grin on his face made you blush even more, as he turned his hand, patting your pussy a few times. The slow and gentile motions over the thin fabric made you shiver from anticipation, and he decided that he shared the feeling. He pushed your panties to the side, stroking you in the same manner as the few seconds before but now over your bare flesh. The slimy juices covered his fingers, as he teased your cunt with more slower pace over your gluey folds. He pushed his finger deeper, stroking your slit while his thumb found its way to your swelled clit. He made a few circle motions over it, making your fingers curl, as you reached around his shoulders, holding on him tight, burring your hand between his neck and shoulders. He refused to stop and allow you to take a break, as he pushed one finger inside of you, still teasing your sensitive pearl. You cried out in his strong shoulder. You were more than soaked, you were dripping over his fingers like crazy, as your velvet walls clutched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, exploring your cunt. And man, you were tight. More than tight. He barely managed to push his one finger all the way in, and pushing one more was almost impossible. That could only mean one thing. This was your first time. He felt excitement building in his chest, as the realization made him tilt his head up and face you. He pushed your head with his, making you look at him. Your teary eyes were half shut, as the pleasure was eating you up. He leaned more in, fixating his eyes on your lips colored like cherries. He licked your bottom lip, biting it lightly before he planted a kiss on your lips. The tender kiss quickly resolved into a euphoric making out, with the erotic dance of your tongues. He remembered how you tasted the first time he kissed you, and this was far better. Was it the mutual feeling of need in the both of you, or just the sexual tension, he was not sure, but it did not matter, he was cherishing every damn second of this. His hands retreated from your pussy, and you whined under the empty feeling between your legs. But you did not wait for long, as you heard the sound of the mental on his belt. You looked down while you were still kissing him. Your eyes widen as you saw his thick cock in his hand. It looked huge, far bigger then you could fit inside of you. Damn, he was struggling to push two fingers in you, how does he think this enormous thing is going to fit. He came closer, putting his tip on your wet folds, pushing it up and down your slit. The juices covered his tip nicely, making it slippery. You bitted your lip once again, waiting for his next move. He pushed his tip on your clit, making your knees shake before he reached down, picking you up, holding you with one hand under your tights. You were holding yourself on his shoulders, as he adjusted the pulsating dick on your tight entrance. He did not wait for long, as he started pushing in slowly, putting his now free hand on your hip to hold you still. A sharp pain of him starching you to the limit you did not think you had, made you cry out as a tear fell from the corner of your eye.

“Shhh baby doll, you are doing so well.”- he whispered in a husky voice, not stopping not even for a moment so your inner walls can get used to the shape. He kept going, as his dick twitched inside of you from pleasure. He was just half in and you felt dizzy from the pain that went through your lower parts, but a quick stings of enjoyment made you want more. You were euphoric, even thought it did not show. You wanted to test your own self, as you wrapped your legs around his hips, pushing yourself on him to the end. Sharp pain slammed inside of you once more, as you screamed in his chest. Your rapid breathing was loud, hard, but seeing the look on his face after you did this, made it worth every bit of the pain. He was pleased, surprised and above all, aroused like never before. So much, that he lost his mind for a moment, slamming into you without mercy, making his dick tear your insides. You screamed again, barely holding onto him as he continued to smash into you. The sounds of your dripping cunt being filled to the brim mixed with your lewd moans and screams filled the room. Like music to his ears, making him fuck you into the wall more. The slams became more violet as he went so deep he could feel his tip kissing your womb. 

“Fuck, you are taking me so well doll. My little pretty slut.”- he roared, breathing heavily but he did not slow his pace. He started biting your tits, leaving the swollen bite marks all over your chest, going for your nipples once more, sucking on them roughly. Your moans got louder , as you pushed your fingers in his hair, grabbing it and making him suck on you more.

 “You like that, don’t you? You like having your tight pussy fucked?”- he murmured around your tits, lowering his hand to massage your clit while he was slamming into you without mercy. 

“Yes! Please Dabi! More!”- you answered like a obedient whore.

“Whose is it? Say it? Who owns your needy cunt?”- he hissed, making you look at him. Your cheeks were fired up, as you could barely speak from the nasty things he was saying. They made you hot, so hot you could not think straight. Not answering him quick enough made him angry, as he flipped you with ease, pushing your bare chest on the cold wall, lifting your ass up, spreading your cheeks and pushing his throbbing cock back inside of you. But before you could once again enjoy his violent thrusts, he slapped you on the ass with his wide palm. You screamed in agony and enthusiasm, as the slaps continued, leaving the skin on your ass cheek bright red and marked with shape of his palm.

 “I asked, whose pussy is this?!”- he grabbed your hair in his hand, pulling your head back, making you meet his gaze.

“Yours! Only yours!”- you screamed as you watched the corners of his lips curl into a devilish smile.

 “Louder. Say it again!”- he ordered, slapping your overly irritated ass cheek again.

 “It is your pussy Dabi! My wet cunt belongs only to you!”- you cried out, but you saw the approval and the satisfaction on his face, as he continued to fuck you, spreading you ass cheeks more so he can reach as deep as possible. 

“That is right. You better remember it. I am your first, and only. Your last. You belong to me, (Y/N).”- he growled into your year, picking up the pace of his ruthless thrusts. He could feel your walls sucking him in, as the orgasm was near, but so was his. He pushed his hand once more to touch your over stimulated clit, pinching it. You body shivered as your climax starting kicking it, making your velvet walls suck him like never before. His dick released his thick strings of cum under hard grip of your walls, aiming straight at you womb. He filled you to the brim, making you feel the hot liquid deep inside of you. You collapsed on his chest, as he caught you with ease, like you weighed nothing at all. The thing you did not expect is that he turned you around, pulling his bloody shirt off of him, tearing the stained part off and putting the rest around your naked chest. It looked like you had a skirt and a top. He reached for the window behind you, opening it up, picking you up and pushing you through it. Panic got over you when you first thought he was going to drop you, but you soon realized there were metal stairs and metal floors. This was the  design of that old buildings that had this kind of things in case of the fire, so there would be an easy escape route. When your feet touched the metal, you turned, waiting for him to follow, but he stayed, gazing at you with an unreadable expression. You will not go without him, there is no chance you will leave him here.

 “Dabi, please.”- you said in a whiny voice, trying to hide the painful feeling building in your chest.

“Please what, doll?”- he calmly answered. Him playing dumb made you feel rage for the first time. You endured all of this, just so he can play ignorant? You clenched your fists, answering with more demand in your voice.

 “Come with me.”- you said. His raven colored hair fell on his eyes. His expression was hidden behind the shadows for a moment, but you could swear there were traces of a soft smile on his face.

“I will not come with you, doll”- he said, grabbing the window, slowly pushing it down. Before it closed you could hear his words which sounded like two things, and both of them made you shiver.

“I will come after you.”- a treat, but a promise as well.

 I would like to express my gratitude to all of you who supported me during the creation of this little series. This was supposed to be one shot, but seeing your satisfaction I couldn’t stop at one part. I hope you enjoy this last one.Thank you again for the notes, reblogs and comments, it really means more then you can imagine.