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iambic-stan · 5 months ago

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River View

I think I'm ready to share my second Tori and Elena story! This one was also like therapy to write...and there might be a little more info-dumping. But I hope it speaks to someone.

"That was really an alligator!" I exclaimed. Not that I'd never seen one. But I couldn't tell you the last time I did. It was just lying on a log, sunbathing, I guess, and the scales made it look like a dinosaur from a children's book. I'd lived here all my life but it still looked out of place somehow. I rolled down the window for a better view and craned my neck to keep staring as the car whizzed past. "Do you see stuff like that out here all the time?" I asked incredulously.

"Not every time I come," Elena replied. "I still get excited every single time I spot one. We're almost to the parking lot." She turned down a narrow dirt road with dense foliage. Deer flies whacked against the car, and I made little shrieking noises at the sight and sound of them.

"Don't worry--I've got spray that'll deter them," she assured me, pulling into a parking spot. There were several other cars, so we weren't the only hikers for the afternoon.

"I'm so glad you didn't want to get up early," I sighed. "I had THE WORST cramps ever," I looked over at her and then it dawned on me that this might be TMI. "Sorry--I forgot for a moment," I said, smiling awkwardly.

"Nothing to be sorry about," she said, pulling up the parking brake and the key out of the ignition. She stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact as she often did. "I get periods, too, basically. No blood, but for me the cramps are horrible, my breasts get sore, food starts to look gross, and the littlest things seem like disasters suddenly."

"Wow, I relate to most of that, actually," I told her. I didn't realize Elena was trans for months; finding out did make some pieces fall into place in my head. Her insecurities seemed magnified in the hostile culture of the South where anything different is perceived as an immoral deviance--even drag queen storytime was some kind of battleground. As a lesbian, I didn't always feel safe, and I knew she didn't, either. I could understand why she sometimes seemed closed off, though she was starting to come around.

"I brought Alex because I really wanted to listen. To be listened to," she said in a stilted voice, like she was reading cue cards. "And I thought that you wouldn't want to after we got all sweaty, so maybe like, now? In the car?"

'Alex' was Elena's stethoscope, which I'd only found out about because we were both drunk enough. If she hadn't been, I'm not sure how long it would've taken her to tell me about this interest of hers. Most times we got together, we listened to each other's hearts, and though it was really only a novelty for me, I readily agreed to participate again and again. The way she sometimes lit up when I listened was unmatched by most every other sort of way I've made someone happy. It felt good to be so needed. I loved having a go-to person for cuddles and hugs, especially when I was single, which was most of the time lately. She was beautiful, with long black hair, blue eyes, and a petite body, but the boundaries didn't feel blurred because I knew she was asexual. I admit that I didn't really know what all that meant, and I found myself thinking of her often when we weren't together, wondering (worrying?) if my feelings were truly platonic.

She pulled Alex out of her hiking backpack, and I took hold of the ear tubes. We'd done this many times, but it still seemed a little strange to wear the stethoscope and place it on her chest. "Girl, it's beating fast. It usually is when I listen," I told her. And that was an unparalleled sort of experience, even for someone like me who never would've thought to do something like this unprompted. Placing a stethoscope on her chest and discovering that her heart was beating fast all because she was excited that I was listening to it gave me a little thrill. She always smiled and looked gravely serious when I told her it was so fast. Her chest moved under my hand with every breath--an unexpectedly intimate part of this activity, and I watched it quietly for a few seconds.

"Thank you, Tori," she breathed.

"You don't have to thank me; I'm happy to do it," I insisted, pulling down the collar of my nylon top so she could have better access to my chest.

The sight of her wearing the ear pieces and the feeling of her putting the stethoscope on my chest were becoming familiar. I used to associate that feeling only with having to see a doctor, and never a pleasurable or even positive experience. "Yours is slower," she told me. "And steady. No skips." She reached for my hand with hers that wasn't holding the chest piece, and I squeezed it. This was becoming my new normal, I supposed, and in some moments it felt like home. When she put Alex away again, she seemed so intense--her eyes wide and her face fixed into a frown that implied great concentration and...some level of shame, almost? She looked away and I wondered if she was embarrassed to be so vulnerable. I leaned over in the seat and put my head on her shoulder, hoping I conveyed that it was more than ok to feel so much and so openly with me.

When we stepped out of the car, she promptly doused me in bug spray, then did the same to herself. It seemed to work because the flies hovered around us but didn't try to bite. They still made me uncomfortable, but I was trying to be a good sport about this. She had suggested so many times over the past year that we should go on a hike together--nothing crazy, mind you--it would be all swampy flat land, less than two hours from home and would take no longer than half a day, she assured me. And we could get some local seafood afterward. The weather was just right for me to agree to it.

"How many miles are we talking? Go easy on me, babe," I said teasingly.

"We can take the Cypress Trail, which is a 2-mile loop. It connects to the River View Trail, which has an overlook that's not super impressive but it's only like another half mile to it. Half of it is boardwalks. And then if we want to go deeper into the woods-"

"I'm gonna stop you there," I said, with a smile so it didn't seem too rude. "Those two trails sound like enough for me."

"Fair enough," she said. And then, after a pause to look at my face, "I'm so excited you're with me!" She jumped up and down a few times. It felt infectious, and a warm, cozy feeling welled up in my chest.

"I'm glad we could make it work," I told her, side-eyeing what looked like a horse fly hovering a little too close by.

The first mile or so was uneventful, in a good way. We passed a couple that pointed out a barred owl looking down at us from a tall bald cypress, seeming almost to pose for photos. I screeched when I noticed a snake curled up on the side of the boardwalk, and Elena protectively took my hand to indicate that I shouldn't get too close. When we were both at a safe distance, she told me it was a copperhead and pointed out the Hershey-kiss pattern on its body. I had to admit that it was beautiful even though I try my best not to wind up in the vicinity of venomous snakes. The cypress knees, spider lilies, and even the algae film on the water were vibes. I liked that we were far enough from the highway that I could hear bird calls instead of passing cars. It was so peaceful.

I was a few paces behind Elena when I heard her squeal with glee. "What is it?" I asked, jogging to her.

She turned to me, her hands closed over something, then opened them up to reveal a large black and white beetle. Instinctively, I jumped backward and almost tripped over a stick. She seemed oblivious. "It's an Eastern Eyed Click Beetle," she said with wonder. "I love their big eyes." I stood a few feet away and watched in horror as she allowed the beetle to crawl all over her hand and arm. She snapped a few pictures with her phone. "I'm so excited that I found one today!" After a few more seconds of admiring it, she placed it on a tree trunk. I couldn't remember when I last thought something was so endearing and yet so revolting at the same time.

She looked up at me, grinning like she'd won the lottery. Over a bug. "So um, you're not a fan of bugs, I know," she allowed. "I got kind of carried away and I guess you've never seen me like that. Hope it wasn't too disturbing. Tell me more about what animals you really like."

I let out a chuckle. "It wasn't disturbing," I said. "But uh, you can have the bugs. Well, I love Mollie, for one." Mollie was Elena's chonky daschund. "We had a couple of great danes when I was growing up. Don't laugh, but we had one named Scooby. I loved him so much. We got him when I was 6 and he passed when I was in high school. I love turtles--especially the soft shelled ones. So cute. One time my girlfriend and I went to D.C. on vacation and there were these giant pandas at the zoo--Mei Ziang and Tian Tian. I was obsessed with them. I couldn't but wanted so much to hug them. I could sit and watch them for hours. I actually went back by myself a couple of years ago--not long before I met you, to see them again. They live in China now, though. But I'd love to go somewhere else with giant pandas."

We talked for a while about what animals we'd seen in person, in the wild or zoos, aquariums, or refuges, and I wondered why we hadn't made any of those trips together. We made tentative plans to take a day trip to an aquarium in Texas with capybara and porcupine encounters and before I knew it, we'd made it to the second trail, the one that was supposed to feature the underwhelming view.

I let Elena go ahead of me and watched her gait. There was this confidence in her step that I rarely got to see. The boardwalk had ended three quarters of a mile before, and the trail narrowed. The flies were closer, but we'd re-sprayed twice to be cautious and I was mostly, happily, bite-free. I liked allowing her to walk ahead of me, because she caught all the spiderwebs I couldn't see. She accidentally ran into one of them and one of those banana spiders fell down onto her shoulder. I screamed in panic, but she brushed it off like it was nothing and kept walking.

"The river's just up ahead, but you have to crouch down into this space here, then follow the path a few more feet," she told me. I followed those instructions even though she didn't realize that crouching down was one thing for her, being less than five and a half feet tall, and another thing for my almost 6-foot tall stocky body. But I managed it with only a twig or two in my hair, and was rewarded with a solid, if not fancy, place to sit--a wooden fishing pier.

Elena pulled two chocolate chip granola bars out of her bag, said, "Here, Tor," and handed me one.

"Where did 'Tor,'" come from," I asked in an unintentionally loud voice. "I feel illegal now." I laughed at what might have been the worst joke I'd ever made.

She turned beet red and busted out a laugh. "I have no idea," she said, "It just came out. We can never speak of it again if you want."

I shook my head and sighed, taking a few gulps of water from my flask. I was glad to be sitting, but I didn't think I could metaphorically sit on things the way Elena did.

"It's actually not underwhelming at all," I said, scanning the horizon.

"Glad you wound up liking it. I kinda hoped that if I undersold it, reverse psychology just might work."

Undersell it she did. The water was a murky brown, but the mostly-undisturbed natural area was otherwise clean, with purple and yellow wildflowers growing in abundance on the banks. I smiled at the log below us with six turtles lined up, end-to-end, enjoying the sunshine as we were. I tried to let my racing thoughts blend into the rushing of the river and just breathe in the fresh air. My heart was pounding. It was something I used to either ignore or get anxious about, but with her, I thought of it a little differently. "Hey, do you want to feel my heartbeat?" I asked her.

"Of course," she said, wasting no time turning to place her hand flat on my chest. "Oh, wow! Why is it so fast?"

"Did you know that in 'Wildest Dreams' on 1989, there's an interpolation of Taylor's actual heartbeat, like throughout the song?" I said, not knowing why I took so long to share this detail.

"No! I did not! Is that my Taylor Swift Tidbit of the day? Thanks," she grinned.

"Yes I thought you'd be into that one."

"Oh yeah that'll do it."

"So, um, you told me you're asexual a long time ago, but I admit I don't know much about that. You never dated, like, not even in high school or college?" I asked.

"No, I never did. I was still pretty good at scaring people away with the intensity of my feelings, 'cause that's just me. I was misunderstood quite a lot. I never wanted to have sex, so I always thought dating would be a waste of time. As soon as the person found out I didn't care about sex, I was sure that would be the end of it. Pretty sure I'm aro too."

"What's 'aro'?" I asked.

"Aromantic. I don't really get romantic feelings for people. I can love them fiercely, but I don't want to like, kiss them or have them all to myself or think about buying a house with them. I guess you could say I get 'butterflies' when it comes to thinking about sharing my heart thing with someone, but it's just...not like they describe romantic feelings in novels. Or the movies. Or by, like, the standards of anyone who's ever told me about their crushes or boyfriends or whatever. In ace culture, sometimes we say we have a 'mesh' or a 'squish,'" she explained.

I let out a laugh, but not in a derisive way, I hoped. "What does that mean?"

"Squishes are romantic crushes with no sexual attraction. Sometimes I get those on celebrities, I think, but not so much in real life. Meshes are like crushes with no sexual or romantic attraction. Like you have a strong desire to be close to someone. Sometimes it's just that you want to be emotionally open to them in a way you would be with a partner, except the two of you aren't dating. Maybe you're affectionate in a way that blurs the lines between friendship and romance from an outside perspective, even though you don't have romantic feelings for each other. 'Alterous' is kind of an umbrella term for platonic feelings that are tough to define. Sometimes your feelings sit somewhere between the traditional boundaries of friendship and romance. It's also kind of dependent on societal norms because we have a narrow view of friendship in our culture, you know? A lot of times I feel like my feelings for people I want to share my heart thing with are kinda alterous. At this point in my life, being over 30, I think if I was gonna have real romantic feelings, I would've experienced them by now. I've certainly met people who were wonderful enough, attractive enough, and all that."

I tried to take all of this in, sure I would forget one or more of these words by the end of the conversation. "So the...alterous feelings...that's just something that asexual people experience?" I asked.

"Oh, not at all. I think it's a very common human experience, but most people think of relationships in simpler terms. And they don't use words for all these things. They fall in love and get married, spend less time with their friends as a result, etc. Not being concerned with sex, and in some cases romance, too, ace people spend a lot more time analyzing platonic type relationships, sometimes to a fault," she laughed. "For some ace people, a friendship will be the most intimate relationship they'll ever have. There are just so many different ways to love," She smiled at me and we actually held eye contact for a few seconds. "Thanks for letting me ramble."

"It's ok. I've pretty much never really thought about it," I admitted. I didn't know how to put it into words yet, but I felt more at peace. Maybe there never was anything to worry about. If Elena's hand had still rested on my chest, she would've noticed that my heart was more relaxed.

I watched and listened to the water, then reached over and put my arm around her. "I love you," I said softly.

"Aw, I love you, too, Tori."

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conduitandconjurer · 3 months ago

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hi, i'd like your thouhts on something please. i was confused by klaus's "sole of the feet" comment in ep1 of season 4 so i googled it and found out it's a meditation practice. specifically, it's a parctice for "controlling the urge to be physically or verbally aggressive", and apparently taught to children with control issues.

very interesting, especially after the whole conversation between klaus and stanley in season 3. but it's kind of weird to have this be the practice he references in this particular situation? i would have expected something to help with anxiety, not with aggression...

Well first of all: https://www.tumblr.com/merrilark/759809595878277120?source=share ( just in case you needed this <3 )

That said,

Klaus's hardships always seem to at least partially be the brunt of jokes, and I think the line was (again at least partially) humor about how someone in the modern world (who CAN die) has to show the restraint not to kill other people who are rude abnd gross and reckless and germy (especially from a hypochondriac's perspective...although don't get me started on the "germaphobe" thing....).

I think it's always wise to assume that Klaus is an unreliable narrator, and has an unrealistically negative perception of himself. Yes, he is flawed, but his "fuckin' Mariana Trench" sense of self-worth takes it to an extreme, and therefore sees ANY real potential bad behavior on his part as a logical supposition: OR prediction. Everything from self-deprecating jokes about being "sexy trash" when called upon to be courageous (even though he indeed was, subsequently, courageous), to his belief that he only has value through the lens of his abusive father's expectations (bus ball, even when he recognizes that Reginald is a "terrible father!!!!", need I say more?), to his belief that Dave Katz was the ONLY person he'd ever "loved more than himself" (despite every single piece of evidence to the contrary, when it comes to his family, even during the times they aren't doing a great job reciprocating), proves this. So anything Klaus says or does in response to the kind of person HE thinks he is, has to be viewed from that perspective.

As the audience, we're meant to pity and sympathize with him, and feel the pathos of wanting him to be kinder to himself. But fans bring their own baggage to the screen, and they sometimes only relate to Klaus at rock-bottom (and that's fine, if it's cathartic for them, it's entirely valid) so they tend to accept his negative self-view as objectively true: as fact. It's comforting to see your struggles represented in a proxy fictional self (especially if you the viewer are ALSO too hard on your own self-image), and sometimes that means fanon is going to reflect a different Klaus than canon intended: a Klaus who really might lash out in violence after years of unresolved or even exacerbated trauma (this is not what I think you're doing, by the way, but the prevalence of fanon about a Klaus who never gets clean and is clownishly pathetic is certainly fed by scenes like the one you're asking about, and sometimes I think that's the writers placating fanon, which...IIII don't think is ever a good idea, but I digress).

What could have made Klaus, who is avoidant and passive to a fault, and on the positive side, gentle and nonjudgmental, believe he could ever be capable of physical violence toward another person? He's just been robbed of his powers. He has a complicated relationship with them, because they gave him a form of invincibility, but also opened him up to be exploited. Suddenly the world is terrifying, but also, he is released of the torment of ghosts everywhere and the BOUNDARIES between life and afterlife being blurred. Therefore, maintaining BOUNDARIES is crucial to Klaus, even if they might seem unnecessary. Harming someone else would trap him back in a cycle of self and other harm, guilt and debt. It's worth noting that this ties in with the AA 12 step program, in settling debts and claiming accountability, and we know from a deleted scene that Klaus wants to avoid more than one fall off the wagon in s4. And honestly, self-control isn't solely meant to avoid aggression to others.

What about how this has been brought up before, with Stan, in the white buffalo room, in s3 (lol sounds like I'm playing Clue)? See above. I posted from a clinical perspective about why Klaus wouldn't have Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD), but rather unmedicated ADHD and C-PTSD, which demonstrate similar patterns of "acting-out" behavior, but for VERY different reasons. I'll look for that post in a bit, it's a couple years old. Yes, stealing, sneaking out, and lighting shit on fire are typical ODD behaviors, but a) this particular class of developmental disorders is controversial for a number of valid reasons, and b) kids with buckets of severe ongoing trauma tied inextricably to where they live and who is raising them are also gonna light shit their abusers own on fire, sneak out, and steal things for the drugs that help them endure something otherwise unendurable.

Those are my initial thoughts at least! <3

#meta #klaus hargreeves #tua meta

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bearbluebooks · 1 year ago

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Chapter 5 - Rules, Rumors and Romance

Repercussions, crew dinner, dancing in a shady bar and plenty of smut!

Start here or if you're all caught up read the new chapter here or under the cut.

Azriel POV

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning strikes lit up the midnight black sky. Pattering rain softly added to the already grim ambiance.

Night time usually meant rest- rest from the guests, from work, from responsibility. Being called to the radio could only mean one thing: trouble.

Azriel was still tied to the bed. Although he loved the surprising freedom he felt in the constraint, he needed to get control over this situation sooner rather than later.

Moments ago, pleasure hung thickly in the air. A different kind of anticipation colored their eyes now.

After Gwyn unbound his wrists in silence. Azriel took one of her cheeks in his hands as he reassuringly said “It will be fine. "I promise, love.”

As long as she was okay, he would be, even if he didn’t completely believe the phrase himself.

With calm movements, he pulled on his pants and dress shirt- no need to give them even more ammunition by showing up naked.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said as he left his safe space.

The look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what awaited him in the bridge. Gwyn was too smart. It was one of the things he loved about her.

Love, he loved her. Nobody could change that, no matter what would be said in the bridge.

With a deep breath, he opened the metal door to the bridge where Rhysand, and… Beron stood?

“Hello, brother.” He said with anger and understanding in his eyes- a strange combination.

“Hello, Rhys. Or should I say, boss?” The answer would reveal a lot. He held all the power on the ship because he owned the ship, in certain ways that meant he owned him. The line was never blurred, never reinforced. Both kept to their respective responsibilities and never crossed the invisible boundary. Until now…

“Beron.” Better address the elephant, or oil tycoon, in the room.

“Captain.” He spit out as if the word tasted bad. Beron seemed to have less problems with the word and more with the person behind it.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we,” Beron demanded.

He felt her before he saw her, as if a part of his soul felt at peace again when suddenly the door swung open to reveal a partially soaked Gwyn wearing her chief stew uniform. She came.

He was sure her uniform wasn’t complete, considering her underwear was soaked long before the rain ever started. A corner of his mouth started to lift at the thought as pride blossomed in his chest again. He quickly shot the rising emotion down, this was not the time or the place. He put the thought away to think about later.

“I think this concerns me too,” she said with so much confidence he could kiss her again.

“Did you threaten to kill my son as well?” Beron answered.

That little shit went and told his dad.

Gwyn looked at him with shock in her eyes which was followed by a small smile.

“I did threaten to cut off his balls if he ever touched me or the other stews again.”

The resulting silence was interrupted by Rhysand’s coughing.

“You did what?” Beron asked in shock. With slow steps, she walked toward the two males, “You were there. Or do you agree that females are part of the interior? Did we go back a hundred years and I didn’t know? Should I give up my right to vote too?”

She stood so close his body urged her to come back. “Does putting on this uniform allow you to do whatever you want to me?”

She got him there. Beron had nowhere to go, her words put him in a chokehold he couldn’t get out of.

Pride wasn’t a big enough word to describe what he felt looking at his Gwyn.

“Because it will be the last time I put it on.” The anger dripped from her voice.

“Gwyn I can assure you that is not how I run a business. His behavior is unacceptable and he will not be allowed back on any of my boats.”

“What the hell…” Beron interrupted.

“I’m not finished.” Rhysand continued. “That does leave the issue of you and Azriel. Beron, you do not need to be present for that conversation I will speak with you later.”

Beron did not take kindly to being told what to do. Azriel wondered what the repercussions for this one sentence would be- a collective oil boycott against Night Court Industries?

He wouldn’t put it past Beron.

“This is unacceptable, my lawyers will-“

“Will do nothing, unless you want a sexual harassment lawsuit in return,” Rhysand interrupted.

With smoke coming out of his ears, Beron left the bridge with a smack of the door that he was sure woke up everybody on board.

“Now for you two.” Rhys started, removing an invisible speck of lint from his black dress shirt.

“Let me explain,” Azriel started.

With the confidence of a man who was worth half a billion dollars, he sat down on the empty spot next to the steering wheel- his steering wheel. With crossed arms, he said, “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I love her,” Azriel said as he moved closer to Gwyn and took her hand in his.

Immediately all worry left his body. Whatever it was he could take as long as she was by his side.

“Shit.”

“I expected a lot of things but not that.”

“And you?” He asked Gwyn.

With a smile that made her eyes burn an even brighter blue, she replied, “I love him too.”

“You two know this puts me in an impossible position, don’t you?”

Instead of giving a response, he gripped Gwyn’s hand tighter. To reassure her as much as himself.

“Gwyn if you would be so kind as to let me talk to my brother alone.” It was not an order or a question, he always had a way with words.

“Everything you say to me you can say to her.”

“Alright,” he said as he flawlessly jumped off the surface, “you threatened to kill someone for her? Either you’ve lost your mind, or you really love her.”

Did his cheeks start to turn red? He was sure they couldn’t do that.

“I do.” He would leave specifics just for the two of them, but he could share this- the truth.

When he dared to look at Gwyn, to see if he scared her with his confession, he saw nothing but warmth.

“Very well. Who am I to stand in the way of your happiness?”

Both brothers stood in front of each other, and it felt strangely intimate.

“I came here as your boss. But I’m your brother first. I would never prevent you from being with the one you love.”

Relief flooded his body until he said “But-“

“I cannot favor one employee over another. This is a business where rumors spread fast and rules are rules for a reason.”

Azriel was about to interrupt. Like hell would he give up Gwyn, he would rather lose his captaincy. Or his ability to breathe.

“I’m going to have to insist on keeping it professional.” With a smirk, he added “I know what you just did. And I don’t want it to happen during charters again.”

“Whatever you do outside of it is your business,” he continued. “As far as rules and rumors go, I will handle those if you swear to abide by mine.”

“Your rumors?” Azriel joked.

“Swear it, brother.” No humor coated his voice.

So he said, “I swear it.”

“I swear it too.” Gwyn joked, but quickly added, “We won’t have sex on charters anymore, I promise.”

“And nice to meet you, Rhysand. Nice to put a face with the name. I thought you would be taller though, and maybe with a golden tooth?”

“Thank you? And nice to meet you too, Gwyneth Berdarra.” He said with charisma dripping off every word.

Smooth son of a bitch.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with one last squeeze of his hand.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a smile, as he watched her walk out and everything else in his mind faded to black.

“You really love her,” he stated with surprise.

“I told you I did,” he said as he whirled his eyes back to Rhys.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“This is different.”

“I know,” he said as he threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.”

Some of the lightness in the air shifted with Rhys’ next words, “I am going to have to insist on keeping your distance. You know what happens to her if people find out.” He said with genuine concern in his eyes.

“If you don’t handle this the right way she could lose her job, her reputation, even I can’t protect her from that.” Azriel was well aware of how lucky they had been until now. The thought of her taking the brunt of the possible fallout made anger rise in his throat. He would do anything to not let that happen. The haze of passion needed to make room for the practical reality.

Even though his body craved hers with every breath, and the thought of not touching her whenever he wanted to seemed impossible, he needed to try. “I know, I will,” he promised to Rhys, himself, but mostly to Gwyn.

“I’m going to have to ask you to sign a contract declaring you two are in a relationship. If you tell the crew that is up to you.”

They didn’t even have that conversation themselves. Saying they loved each other was one thing, but being partners was another. He wanted to make it special. To not let it be a formal request to prevent bureaucratic repercussions.

But if it meant Gwyn would be safe, he would do it. “I’ll give you the papers by next charter,” Azriel said.

“All right, if you send them before the next charter boards, I’ll make sure everything is in order.”

“Thank you, brother.” He knew it wasn’t pleasant for Rhysand either.

“What are we going to do about the Vanserra’s?” Azriel inquired, hoping the bastards left the ship sooner rather than later.

“I’m escorting them off the boat tomorrow afternoon. The next charter guests arrive in two days, I’m giving you all tomorrow off after they leave. Do with that information what you will.”

“May I suggest a nice hotel?”

“I’m going to bed.”

“See you tomorrow brother.”

As Azriel walked towards his bed chamber, he turned around to say “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, brother.”

—

Gwyn POV

To nobody's surprise, Morrin stayed in his room for most of the morning. Balthazar said he heard some strange sounds coming from his room, but nobody wanted to handle that situation so they left him alone.

After the confrontation in the bridge, Rhysand slept in one of the officers’ quarters. If she could believe the rumors, he shared a room with Cassian.

Rhysand was even more handsome in person, but not as handsome as Azriel of course. The rumor mill went wild when an unknown Archeron sister started dating the Night Court heir. Gwyn was already friends with Nesta at the time, and she remembered how tough the constant intrusion on their privacy had been on their family.

A yacht was eerily similar. Nothing was your own, not your room, your personal space, or your relationships. As proven by Rhysand’s sudden appearance. Seeing Beron threaten Azriel made anger replace the initial fear she felt. As soon as she left the cabin, that sinking feeling returned. Would she lose her job, or worse Azriel? Then she remembered his words, he really loved her. She couldn’t wait to ask him what that meant. Fortunately, she still had a job, unfortunately, she needed to keep some semblance of distance from Azriel to keep that job.

As she did the dishes in the small pantry, she thought about a plan to achieve that distance. He loved it when she wore her hair down, so she wouldn’t do that anymore, not on charter. Nor would she give him lingering looks, or touch his ass. Basically, she needed to avoid him at all costs because she would not be able to prevent herself from doing any of those things once she saw him. Gods, even thinking about him made her hands itch to touch him. To feel those burning eyes on her. To hear that baritone voice that sent shivers directly to her core.

As if she summoned him by her thoughts, she suddenly felt an imposing presence behind her. He leaned against the doorway to look at her when he said, “In my mind, I’m wrapping my arm around your waist.”

Gwyn closed her eyes and imagined it in her mind too.

“I’m pulling you closer.”

She had to fight the urge to lean into his body that was so close, yet so far away.

“I’m brushing my lips slowly over your neck.”

Her breath hitched as she imagined it.

“Maybe I’ll kiss you next depending on the sound that leaves your mouth. I’ll start slow. I’ll take my time as if I’ve never tasted your lips before.”

Her face heated at the thought.

“Then I will move my hand towards your perfect ass and pull you even closer.”

Her core throbbed at the thought of it and her hand almost moved to alleviate the burning tension.

His head moved towards her ear, where he said “I’ll have to wait until tonight. But it will be worth it. I promise.”

When she turned around, he was already gone. Just like the fear that they couldn’t make it work.

-----

Crew nights out were the pinnacle of charters.

Guests had the time of their lives during the charter, but for the crew, it started after they left- when freedom reigned and money flowed. Whenever the work was done for the day, all crew would head out to a joint dinner.

Tonight, Azriel joined. Usually, as a captain, it was tradition to let the crew have their time without a captain watching every move. Gwyn was ecstatic that tonight was different.

Two taxis drove them towards the restaurant, and she made sure to sit next to him.

None of the crew knew about them, outside Cassian, Nesta, and Emerie. They decided to keep it that way, otherwise, lines would become even more blurred than they already were.

Azriel and Gwyn sat in the backseat. Poppy and Balthazar sat in the two seats in front of them, and Cassian and Nesta sat at the head.

Her heart pounded in anticipation. She wasn’t that drunk but her head felt dazed.

When nobody looked, Azriel ran one finger up the expanse of her exposed skin which sent shivers over her entire body. She wished nobody else was in that taxi so that he could bend her over and take her then and there. But tonight was for the crew, at least dinner was for the crew. They deserved it, their last charter was a nightmare.

Rhys explained the sudden departure of the Vanserra's as a political incident. Technically it was true, just not the whole truth.

The table was surprisingly full. Emerie sat at the end of the table. Next to Gwyn sat Mor whose knee was held possessively by Emerie who sat on her right side. Emerie had confided in Nesta and Gwyn that she would finally make a move. Before dinner, Emerie had asked Gwyn to make sure she could sit next to the blonde beauty. Pride flowed through Gwyn’s body at the sight of one of her best friends’ bravery. She couldn’t wait to hear about the developments on their weekly Smut Sisters hangout tomorrow.

On Gwyn’s left side, sat Poppy who was engrossed in a conversation with Balthazar. Gwyn heard fragments of it, they seemed to be discussing the merits of scuba diving in winter, which was an odd choice of conversation, but that didn’t make it less passionate. Lazarus’ seat was empty, he went out for a smoke in between each course. At the other end of the table sat Cassian who could barely fit, which left Nesta scarce space to sit. Neither of them seemed to mind, as Nesta sat on Cassian’s lap. A pang of jealousy rang through Gwyn at the sight, her hands ached to touch Azriel too.

He did join the crew dinner, but he was seated at the head of the table. One glance to her left revealed amber eyes that watched her with such burning passion, that she could practically feel her short green dress come off under his scrutinizing gaze. She couldn’t really blame him, she did dress specifically for that reason. The dress hugged all her curves in just the right places. The deep neckline left enough to the imagination not to warrant unwanted attention, but trained eyes knew what lay underneath, and she made sure to tease accordingly. It was exactly that pair of eyes that followed the finger she slowly traced down her collarbone, towards the dip in her dress. The grip of his hand on the table and the bite of his lip suggested it was working.

When their eyes locked the whole world faded to black, and only they existed. He looked impossibly handsome in his black dress shirt, the top was unbuttoned which revealed the patch of black hair, but also his swirling tattoos which she traced with her tongue yesterday. He wore a silver chain she had never seen before which made him look even more ruggedly handsome. His legs were hidden underneath the oak table, but the tight black pants lingered in her mind. The fabric hugged his ass in such a way that warmed her skin and made her face grow hot.

When nobody watched, he gave her a wink that revealed so much hunger, that she had to clench her legs together in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of that building tension in her core.

Their gazes never left each other until someone asked: “What do you think Gwyn?”

Shit, she had no idea what they were talking about.The whole world ceased to exist as soon as those auburn eyes found hers. Nesta boomed in “The one we did two years ago has to be the craziest charter we have ever done, right Gwyn?”

“Oh right.” She said as she shook her head. Her real answer would be the Vanserra charter when she had threatened to cut off someone’s balls, that had been pretty crazy. But she couldn’t say that now. So she looked around, and told the story of the second craziest charter “Trixie Two Titts and her pornstar friends rented the charter two years ago.” As soon as she said Trixie’s name, Azriel spat out his drink and launched into a coughing fit.

A smile appeared on her face, as she continued, “They wanted to celebrate an award she received.” Old memories resurfaced with every retelling, the perpetual smell of fake tan, and the iconic orders of pornstars by actual pornstars. “Every night after dinner they would head out to their cabins and record a live stream or other videos, don’t ask how we knew.” She smiled at the memory. “They were the nicest charter guests we’ve ever had, super kind and respectful.” Unlike their most recent guests.

The whole table laughed before they launched into a different conversation about their craziest yachting experience.

Gwyn couldn’t help but look at Azriel and notice how his entire face lit up after her story, how his eyes always found hers. She couldn’t take it anymore. Him being so close but not able to touch him. Her hands ached. Her body urged her to get closer. With one last glance into his eyes, and a slight nod of her head in the direction of the sea, she announced “I’m just going to go for a little walk.” To which Poppy asked, “Do you want me to join you?”

“You stay here, I’ll be right back, but thank you!”

When she stood up from the table, the chatter continued to Gwyn’s delight. She could just hear Azriel when he said “I’m going for a smoke.”

When he finally caught up to her, she asked “You smoke?”

“There’s still much you don’t know about me, Gwyneth.” He said with a smirk. “Is that a problem?”

She smiled as she asked, “That I don’t know everything about you, or that you smoke?”

He moved his hands to his pockets and matched her pace, as he said “Both.”

She had to think about that, as she looked around the boardwalk they were currently walking down, and spotted no familiar faces. With one arm she linked into his muscular arm and answered, “One day I want to know everything about you, but for now, it’s part of your appeal- the mystery.” She smiled. “And you know it too.”

“The smoking… Don’t get me wrong, I want you to live for a long time, but- it’s surprisingly hot.”

“In that case,” he said as he reached into his pocket and lifted out a cigarette, “please light it,” he said as he offered her his lighter.

Both stopped just in front of the sandy road that led directly towards the beach, where he put the cigarette in his mouth. His eyes never left hers, as she brought the lighter to the back of the cigarette, and with one try lit it as if she had done it a hundred times before. With one strong inhale he made sure it stayed alight, as they both walked towards the beckoning sea.

One of his strong hands wrapped around her shoulder, as he pulled her closer to his body.

“Is this allowed?” she asked “We are technically out of charter but it still feels wrong.” Her stomach sank at that last word. Wrong. They were made to feel wrong because of some old notions and rules. Nothing about them felt wrong. It felt perfectly right, and she hated that she had to hide parts of it.

“I know, love,” he answered. “Until we tell the crew it will feel that way.”

He stopped right in front of her and placed one hand on her cheek when he said “But we are not wrong.”

The salty smell of the sea reached her nose before the sounds of the lapping waves entered her ears. With one swift movement, she removed herself from her dominant orbit to run towards the other beckoning force- the sea. Whilst she was still running, she removed the flimsy black slippers from her feet. The sensation of sand on her feet was heavenly.

When one of her toes felt the coldness of the vast blue expanse, a shiver ran up her body. She closed her eyes and felt truly at peace as she let all of her senses become completely immersed in the slice of paradise she found herself in. She noticed the warm brush of air kissing the uncovered parts of her skin. It beckoned her to set her long hair free to the wind- so she did. All she had to do was remove the hairclip and she felt the long strands fall down her back until they reached her hips.

When she looked back to where she left Azriel, she found huge eyes looking at her completely mesmerized- as if she was a siren calling to him.

With slow steps and eyes that seemed intent on capturing the moment to eternity, he made his way toward her. She didn’t dare move, her body was paralyzed by anticipation and equal hunger.

When he finally reached her, she moved as close as their bodies allowed. One of his arms slid around her in such a possessive way, that her body shook at the momentum his rough action caused. His gaze drifted between her eyes and lips as if he contemplated his next action carefully. The hunger in his eyes made her heart race and her breath hitch. With one finger, she traced his jawline and ran her fingers through his hair. Her other hand ran over his chest and ended up on his ass which she gave a rough squeeze- something she had been wanting to do the whole evening. Two strong hands moved to cup her ass in response- turned out she wasn’t the only one.

In pure anticipation, she wet her lips and tilted her neck, an invitation he greedily accepted as he traced a line up her neck with his tongue. A choked sob left her mouth at the sudden contact. The sound seemed to unleash him, as his lips crashed into hers in an instant. There was nothing soft about it, all the hunger in his eyes moved to his lips. He kissed like she was the water at the end of the dessert. As if she was the oxygen he needed to breathe. He grabbed her waist and moved one of his huge hands to cup one of her breasts “You’re so beautiful Gwyn” he forced out of his mouth.

With a smile, she moved one of her hands to his ass, which she used to desperately pull her body flush to his. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth with one languid stroke. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, her new favorite. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her mouth.

“Fuck Gwyn,” he breathed into her mouth.

She could feel the effect she had on him as his hardness pushed into her stomach. The familiar sensation made her face grow even hotter, and her desire increased even more. In a desperate attempt to relieve some of that building tension, she pushed against his muscular body when she begged breathlessly “I need you Azriel.”

Two voices interrupted them before he could act on her plea.

“Look how beautiful.” The voice screamed enthusiastically. In one swift move, he adjusted his cock in his pants before moving in front of her. It gave her enough time to pull the fabric over her breasts that were uncovered by Azriel's roving hands.

Her breath stalled in anticipation of who the two people were, and only when she saw two unfamiliar faces did she let out a relieved breath.

Only when she turned around to see what attracted the two strangers to their private paradise, did she notice the sunset that was so beautiful it looked like a painting. Amaze made way for shock, she was so engrossed by Azriel that she completely missed the other magic that occurred right behind her. Two dolphins swam just in front of the setting sun, and the lowering light reflected on their shining bodies which created the most magical scenery.

When she looked next to her to gauche Azriel’s reaction to the magic, she noticed his eyes never left her body. He didn’t look at the sea or the sun, only at her, and he was equally mesmerized. Her breath hitched. He really loved her, and she really loved him.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she blurted out in a bout of pure happiness.

“Do you want me to?” he asked slightly shocked. As if he wanted to gauge if her reaction was true.

“Yes,” she replied confidently.

To which he finally answered, “I want nothing more in this world.”

With one hand on her hip, he turned her around, so she faced the ocean and the sunset. He took up the place right behind her and rested his head on her shoulder. Together they watched the sunset for what felt like forever and not nearly long enough. “My girlfriend,” he said into her ear. The mention of the words or the closeness of his body sent shivers up her spine. “Mine” he added and Gwyn couldn’t help but smile.

She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, Azriel Black was hers, and she was his. But for now, this was enough. It was a dream. It was her reality. She didn’t want to wake up. So she leaned into his embrace, and memorized the moment, even if it couldn’t last forever, her memory could.

When the vibrant colors of sunset, made way for the blackness of night, Azriel said in his deep voice “I still need you, Gwyn.”

With one large hand, he enveloped hers, as he led them both off the beach, towards the much busier promenade.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her bag.

Nesta: I made up an excuse for why you haven’t made it back yet. We all paid and are in Green Village, hurry your ass up here.

Gwyn: Thank you! I’ll see you in an hour! X Gwyn

“Nesta covered for us,” Gwyn said before she remembered she had no idea what was happening, “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” as he walked in front of her, never losing her hand, no matter how busy it was, or how many people wanted to move between them.

The first restaurant they found, Azriel walked inside. The waiter seemed to recognize him, and a quick greeting allowed them access. The place was packed, and every table was full. It looked expensive- chandeliers hung in the ceiling, the waiters wore fancier uniforms than them, and the food on the tables looked just as well-made as everything Nesta made.

Determined strides signaled that he had visited the place many times before. When they reached the back of the dimly lit space, he gestured for her to enter, “the toilets?” she asked.

“I told you I needed you, preferably without people seeing so this seemed like the best option.”

Hard to argue with that logic. She could hardly wait either. The time they watched the sunset did nothing to ease the ache in her core, for the absolute need for him.

The bathroom was small, but large enough for his body. With one strong pull, he grabbed her and deposited her on the wooden sink.

Before they could continue, she needed to get a feel for the place. The position he put her in granted her a perfect view of the lavish interior. Everything was made of sandalwood and gold, if there ever was a toilet to get naked in, this was it.

Some strange instinct made her blurt out “I’ve never had sex in a toilet before.”

“Not even on a night out?” Azriel asked surprised. “Never.” No matter the amount of alcohol, nothing could make her have sex in such a cramped space, not to mention the way everybody would know or hear exactly what she was doing. She was pretty vocal in bed, she was aware. She just didn’t need other people to be aware.

That was all before she met the Adonis who was standing before her. Before she felt the absolute need he caused. The way her core throbbed just looking at him.

Azriel seemed to be taken aback at her confession when he moved out of her reach to examine her intentions and said, “We don’t have to-“

Before he could change his mind she closed the distance by grabbing him by his shoulders.

Her mouth found his in an instant. The kiss was filled with all the need she felt, in answer to his doubts. “I want to”, she added to really put him at ease.

Her legs wrapped around his waist in an instant, pulling him even closer to her body. One of his hands moved towards the place where she needed him most, when he pushed her dress away to get better access, something that resembled a whimper left his mouth “You weren’t wearing any underwear?” She almost forgot about that, “I thought I would help you a little.”

“Help me lose my mind?” he countered. With two expert hands, he pulled her closer to the end of the surface she was seated on before he pushed one of his thick fingers into her core when he said, “You never cease to surprise me, Gwyn.”

With a groan, he said, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The truth was she had been wet for him ever since he walked out in those pants. Not to mention when he looked at her during dinner, smoked that cigarette, and when he kissed her on the beach.

“I’ve been thinking about this since last time. You’re all I think about- the way you moan when I touch you, the way you taste, the way you feel wrapped around my cock. Gods Gwyn, I-“

His mouth moved to her neck where he placed frantic kisses whilst his finger moved in and out of her core in a delicious rhythm. She used both of her hands to steady herself on the wooden cupboard, as her breath hitched when he put another finger into her core already filling her up.

His mouth found hers in an instant when he slowly licked her lips before he slid his tongue in. The kiss became more heated as he grabbed her waist with his other hand, and pulled her into an angel that allowed him to push his fingers in even deeper. The movement was so heavenly she moaned at the sudden sensation, “Azriel.”

“I love it when I hear you.” He said, and she was sure her cheeks burned at the compliment.

The kiss became more passionate as his fingers increased speed, and need overtook her entire body. Her hands moved to his hair before she collapsed into the crook of his neck, where she smelled his familiar cedarwood scent. For precious minutes, she felt like she was in heaven.

Her core pulsed as time slowed down, she couldn’t help it when another even louder moan escaped her mouth as he curled his finger and increased his speed to a brutal pace. A shockwave of pleasure rocked through her body, as her core tightened around his still-present fingers. He didn’t stop, his fingers carried her through her orgasm as she dissolved into pleasure. Nothing existed in the world, only him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said as his head lowered to her core where his tongue hungrily licked away all of his hard work. The surprise sensation made her hips rock into his face until she leaned into the sudden presence as she wondered if she would ever get used to it. When he said “And you still taste like the best thing I’ve ever had,” she knew she would never would.

When he raised his head, he licked his lips. She grabbed him by his shirt to pull him close and when they kissed, she could still taste herself on his lips.

“Fuck me Azriel,” She ordered.

She needed him inside her, desperately.

With two desperate hands, she removed his belt, as he unbuttoned his trousers with one confident smirk that never left his face. When he lowered his underpants, and his huge cock sprang free, she saw he wasn’t as unaffected as his face made it seem.

One last look into her eyes told him everything he needed to know when he thrust his hard cock into her throbbing core. The pressure made her breath hitch.

The more she adjusted to his size, the more it turned into pure pleasure.

With languid movements, he pushed her up that familiar hill. She met him thrust for thrust, as she rolled her hips into his groin. With one hand he pushed her dress lower to reveal her breasts. He quickly took one of them in his mouth and he softly bit into them before he eased some of the pain by lapping his tongue over the peaked nipples.

They had tender sex before, but this was different, there was nothing but need that fueled their movements. His thrusts were brutal, but her pushes back were just as desperate. “You’re doing so good Gwyn. You feel- you feel incredible.” He said just as breathlessly.

In one swift move, he pulled out of her, which made Gwym whimper at the sudden loss of his cock inside of her. With expert ease, he turned her around so she laid with her breasts on the surface and her ass up. With one hard thrust, he entered her again, and she relished the feeling of his cock back inside her. His entire body was wrapped around her, and she had never felt safer. With this angle, she could look into the mirror. She could see his body working his cock inside her. She could see the desire reflected in his eyes. It all added an extra layer of pleasure to her already throbbing core.

With every new thrust he pushed her up the hill, “Azriel,” she moaned into his ear. In response, he kissed her neck, as he licked the expanse to her jawline.

To need to be close filled both bodies, as his mouth moved to find hers in a heavy kiss. Heat spread under her skin, as every nerve ending seemed to be on fire.

When her core clenched around his thrusting cock on instinct, he lost all composure and begged her “Are you close?” The desperation in his eyes and the biting of his lip told her he was. When she was about to move her hand to rub her clit, he moved his hand even quicker to give her exactly what she needed. Because of the combination of his thrusts and the movement of his hand, she fell apart in his arms. With one last powerful thrust, he spilled himself inside her with one heady groan “F-uck.”

When he slowly made to move out of her, she grasped his shoulders to keep in her a little while longer.

When her phone rang for the second time that night, she noticed all the missed texts.

Poppy: chief where are you?

Cassian: Gwynnie, the dancefloor waits for no one. Bring Azriel, I know you’re with him. Tell him Balthazar and Lazarus left. Poppy went with them. Wait I have his number too. But still, push him to come.

Nesta: Get your ass over here. Drag Azriel with you too. The coast is all clear.

Emerie: Gwynnnnn a shot of tequila is waiting for you. And so am I!

Mor: Text me a thumbs up if you’re okay.

With a sigh, she showed the screen to Azriel. “What do you want to do?” he asked as he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Let’s go for an hour and then we can leave. Do you want to go?” She asked.

“I will go wherever you are.” He said with a smile.

When he removed his cock from her core, he first zipped up his pants, and then wet one of the fresh towels in the cupboard to clean her up. When she got presentable again, she jumped off the counter where Azriel already stood with his back to the door, “ready?”

With one move that took way too much strength, she pushed him into the door where she pressed one searing kiss on his lips before she said “Let’s go.”

----

When they arrived at the dingy club down the boardwalk, Azriel took her hand in his to lead them both inside. The place was packed. The brown walls and the musky smell reminded her of university. Right next to the entrance was the bar, where many people tried to get the bartender's attention. Azriel easily moved in between them when he asked “What do you want to drink?”

With a smile, she whispershouted into his ear “A beer.”

With one signal of his hand, strong eye contact, and his imposing presence, he was helped within seconds. When he handed her the beer, she took his hand in hers and guided them towards the dancefloor.

Right in the center were Nesta and Cassian, who danced like their bodies were made for each other. It was a mesmerizing sight. Which was why she didn’t say ‘hi’ until Nesta spotted them. “Gwyn, creep what are you doing?” she smiled as she left the dancefloor to give her a hug, “Good to see you too Nesta. Where are Emerie and Mor?”

“Together somewhere. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow” she said with a knowing smirk.

When Cassian followed Nesta he took up the space next to Azriel, “The last time I saw you in a club we were what, 18? You must be really special to him, Gwynnie.” Cassian said with a wink.

“Shut up, Cas.” He said as he pushed him hard in the shoulder.

“Anyway. Where were you two lovebirds?” Cassian asked.

“Why are you asking, need some inspiration?” Azriel said.

“Are they always like this?” Gwyn asked as she pulled Nesta to the side. “This is just the beginning, wait until they have their annual snowball fight.”

With a sigh, she placed one hand in Azriel’s back pocket and pulled him towards her. “Do you want to dance?” She asked him in a desperate attempt to make the most of the night of freedom.

“Let’s go Berdarra.” His strong hand pulled her onto the dancefloor where he carved a space for them that was big enough to move around comfortably. With one expert maneuver, he guided her body in front of him, where he placed his hands on her hips and moved them together to the beats of the music.

The position was perfect to grind her ass into his groin. She relished the way she was able to touch him. To be close to him. To do whatever she wanted to him. With one swift movement, she turned around to face him.

One look into his eyes told her he felt it too- the daze of passion increased by the consumed alcohol. With one searing kiss, she pressed her lips into his. One hand moved to his hair, which she softly ran her fingers through. Her tongue found his in seconds. She tasted beer and something distinctly Azriel. She wrapped her arms around his neck and became completely lost in the sensation. Until she heard two female voices behind her that slowly brought her back to reality “Gwyn made it?” Mor yelled. “I’m so glad, Smut Sisters unite,” Emerie said.

“Oh my gods,” Mor yelled from closer behind her, “my ex and my boss?”

“How funny.”

Ex, ex, ex. Where her mind was previously consumed by Azriel’s kiss, it was now completely overtaken by that one word, ex.

#gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction #gwyn acosf #gwyneth berdara #acotar #acotar alternate universe #ao3 fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #gwynriel fic #azriel x gwyn #gwyn berdara

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thepaperpanda · 2 years ago

Text

𝓓𝓪𝔂 13 - Blur The Lines || Steven Grant x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You are best friends with Steven Grant. Even though you enjoy your friendship, you decide to blur the lines.

Warnings: smut (handjob, cumming without penetration)

Word count: 1137

Author: Rouge

A/N: the prompt for today is: Masturbation

Steven Grant is my best friend of many years. Sweet, smart, and with a dry wit that makes you laugh; measured and considered; he is the most level-headed person I've ever known.

I find this appealing, and it's one of the reasons I like him so much. Although I know he wouldn't blur our carefully drawn friendship, I yearn for it. I want to shock him so that he loses his composure and I can feel his desire for me. However, I feel insecure about the fact that he doesn't seem to be even slightly interested in me; I can describe a whole sexual encounter and Steven won't even raise an eyebrow.

It is not that I have tried to seduce him, but I have decided to change that. In this story, I'll tell you how I tempted Steven to cross our boundaries.

It was a hot summer night and I was staying at Steven's flat. On a visit to London, I crashed on his floor since we lived in different cities.

Our day was amazing and we really connected; we talked about work, health, and minds. It felt so good to be so close to him emotionally, but I wanted to be that close to him physically as well. When we got back to his flat after a walk, I decided to tease him a little.

The summer dress I was wearing was green and floaty. As we sat on the floor chatting, I pulled my knees in, exposing my underwear to him; Steven glanced at my knickers a few times, but didn't seem concerned at all.

I decided to take a less subtle approach at that point. "Steven," I began, my voice light, "What do you think about when you masturbate? Do you watch a lot of porn?"

A little frown appeared on Steven's face as he held my gaze. This question was slightly out of the blue, but it wasn't really outside of our normal conversational limits. A sigh escaped his lips as he replied, "Really, I don't know. I sometimes watch porn, but I feel like it's getting a bit old."

The sight of him looking unnecessarily weary for our age hurt my heart a little. He's been clearly unlucky in love and hasn't really had much intimacy with others; I couldn't help but move closer to him. My intention was to be more direct, "Sometimes I fantasize about cuddling you while you touch yourself. Would you be open to that?"

His eyes met mine; his lips parted a little, but he did not appear upset; rather, he appeared curious. "Y/N, you know how much I love you, but I don't want to lose our friendship."

The solemnity of his speech made me laugh a little. "Who's talking about losing this friendship? We're so close, I just want to show that closeness." As I gauge his reaction, I smile lovingly. "No romance, just plenty of sexiness."

Steven smiled and nodded slowly as well. As he considered the idea, he kept calm as ever, nodding in approval. "A physical expression of friendship, no romance, only sex... I guess I can see that..."

"So?" I asked lightly.

He smiled and nodded, "Then let's try it. You need to spoon me."

We almost raced to his bed after laughing. Taking him close between my legs, I sat behind him. My lips were right by his ear, and I whispered to him to pull out his cock as I knelt up to view his crotch.

Suddenly, he looked nervous, but did as I said, his cheeks blushed.

Having been best friends for so long, I knew he appreciated women who could take charge a little. The size of his cock surprised me; it's gorgeous, long, and slightly girthy. I gently caressed him.

I breathed instructions into his ear and he became harder.

Having moved my hands away from him, I didn't need to say anything more; any initial shyness was gone as Steven's lust intensified. He started to stroke his full length as I whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

As he shared this moment with me, I felt myself getting nice and wet. Steven was so vulnerable right now, but we were at ease, our bodies as close as our souls. I slided my hands along his thighs, caressing his legs. Trying to squeeze as close to him as possible, I wanted to soak up his lust until I was dripping. Unconsciously, Steven gasped.

His cologne lingered against my nose as I kissed him along his ear, down towards his neck. It was still possible to see his lovely cock being worked to its full size in his hand.

Slowly and steadily he pumped himself, occasionally playing with his tip with his thumb, but never neglecting the full length of his considerable cock.

Without intending to, I licked my lips; I wanted to get on my knees and suck him off, have him fuck my mouth until I begged him to stop, but this wasn't about me - I needed to focus on him.

"That's it, sweetheart," I whispered to him, my mouth at his ear.

Steven started to pant a little.

"Steven, please, I need you to cum, baby, so bad," I begged him, gently nibbling on his earlobe.

As he leant back into me, he moaned and beat his cock faster.

As I moved my hands along his thighs gently tugging him so he had to spread his legs a little for me, I gently whispered, "That's it, sweetheart. Cum in my arms, baby, I love you so much."

Steven seemed to lose control. I locked eyes with him; he looked desperate, and lust-filled, and completely exposed to me, as his hand manically rubbed at his cock, hard and fast.

I kissed his forehead and caressed his cheek.

Turning to me, he let me hold him.

Over and over, eagerly and desperately, I instructed him to cum for me. He moaned openly, staring at me with desperate, almost devoted eyes.

"I need your cum," I breathed, feeling my wet cunt lips slip against each other as he jerked against me.

In the end, Steven spewed long streams of thick, white cum all over himself.

For the first time, I kissed Steven on the lips, and he responded passionately. The moment I looked down at my best friend, who was covered in his own cum, I was astonished at how sexy and happy he looked.

Scooping up the cum with my fingers, I swallowed as much as I could before licking my fingers clean. There was a sense that I was really his, and he seemed really mine. I had made him happy, and he had given me what I craved the most - hot cum to lick up, while gazing at a man I cherished.

#Steven grant #steven grant x reader #Steven grant x you #Steven grant imagine #Steven grant smut #steven grant x y/n #steven grant drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight imagine #paperpanda kinktober #kinktober 2022

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moss-path · 3 years ago

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decided to make a post about my po3 au where Squirrelflight and Leafpool have their litters at the same time and the five grow up as siblings.

Squirrelflight and Leafpool have always been more alike than different. This extends to matters of love.

Squirrelpaw leaves on her journey, following in Brambleclaw’s pawsteps and meets Crowpaw. As the only apprentices, they’re put behind the others, at least only at first. While Crowpaw is prickly, Squirrelpaw learns to see past it, see his warmer side. And it’s endearing.

Meanwhile, back in the forest, Leafpaw grows enamored with Mothwing, the beautiful medicine cat apprentice of Riveraclan. She’s pretty and nice and funny and pretty... And then the forest start to fall apart.

Soon after the prophecy cats return, the clans are thrust into their journey to the lake. Squirrelpaw and Leafpaw earn their full names within a moon of each other.

Squirrelflight has lived outside the clans for moons and outside the boundaries of the clans for a season. She misses the freedom and camaraderie of the journey and newly named Crowfeather does too. Not only that, but he’s one of the only ones able to keep up with her banter. And so she asks to meet at the border.

Even with Squirrelflight back in ThunderClan, she’s distant. Leafpool longs for someone to share her thoughts and feelings with. Sorreltail is kind but she doesn’t understand the pressure on the shoulders of a medicine cat, besides she’s been far too busy with Brackenfur anymore. And Cinderpelt still sees her as a child, with no real worries of her own. Mothwing listens and offers advice and Leafpaw finds her old crush resurfacing. It’s softer this time, yet so much deeper. And so she asks to meet at the border.

When Crowfeather asks her to run away with him, Squirrelflight hesitates. She’s always been a part of Thunderclan, it’s her home, it’s where her family is. But the reason she’s out here in the first place is because she feels like she doesn’t belong there anymore. And Crowfeather understands her like the others don’t. She agrees.

Their flight is short lived. They were running and then suddenly Midnight is there and in a blur they’re fighting badgers in ThunderClan camp. Squirrelflight stays this time. Crowfeather is heartbroken but he understands and returns to WindClan.

Leafpool is the first to notice and Sandstorm is the second. Her belly is rounding and she needs to act fast. It only takes her a moment to realize Squirrelflight is in the same situation. This is when Sandstorm pulls them aside and they come up with a plan. Before Leafpool acts, she takes a trip to RiverClan.

Leafpool announces to the clan that she’s had a vision from StarClan. They’ve told her to find something outside of their territory and that Squirrelflight needed to be there. She’s already spoken to Mothwing of RiverClan who has agreed to serve as ThunderClan’s temporary medicine cat in her absence. Firestar is hesitant. Sandstorm speaks out, that she can’t let her daughters go alone and that she would accompany them on their journey. Firestar knows how capable his mate is and relents.

As they prepare to leave the next day, Ferncloud approaches and offers her advice.

They travel for days before reaching a downed hollow tree. Soon after, a great storm buries their trail in snow, conveniently, so that no one can follow them. They have their litters a day apart.

Leafpool had hers first. Four small kits, one is stillborn and another dies by the time night falls. She names them Juniperkit, for the berries that help her heal, and Dandelionkit, for the fleeting yet everlasting lives they live. Sandstorm buries them. The other two are small, yet they grow stronger over the next few days. The golden one looks just like Mothwing and cries with the strength of a lion. Lionkit, she names him. The other is small, with fur as dark as holly leaves and tiny patterns of ginger, she’s quieter but wriggles with energy. She remembers one of Ferncloud’s kits that she couldn’t save. She names her daughter Hollykit.

Squirrelflight has her litter the next day, they’re a few days early yet born stronger than Leafpool’s kits. The first has the fiery fur of her father with black patches like soot. She names her firstborn Sparkkit. The second has fur that’s a patchwork of grey and cream with kitten blue eyes that remind her of Crowfeather, she briefly hopes they’ll stay that shade. Jaykit, she decides. The last looks so much like her, with fluffy dark ginger fur, like autumn leaves. She names him Alderkit.

They stay until their eyes start to open, so they might withstand the cold of the late snow. Sandstorm goes out before them to fetch a patrol. They are carrying five kits after all.

When they return, Leafpool spins her story. Soon after they first set out from ThunderClan, they realized that Squirrelflight was pregnant. While they initially planned to turn around, another prophetic dream told Leafpool to keep pushing forward, and that this was all planned by StarClan, to trust them. As the clouds of a storm gathered, the three of them came across a hollowed tree that held a perfectly sized den to rest and a small patch of rare herbs helpful in childbirth. After the snow hit and Squirrelflight had her large litter of kittens, Leafpool explained, she realized that had Squirrelflight been in camp, the snow would have prevented her from reaching these herbs to save her sister’s and the kits’ lives. The clan accepts this without question.

(In WindClan, Nightcloud approaches Crowfeather. She wants kits, she wants to be a mother and she knows Crowfeather needs to cement his loyalty to WindClan again. And Crowfeather has something Nightcloud doesn’t. Pure WindClan blood. A father who was deputy and a mother who holds respect as a senior warrior. Her kits would have a good future if they were his. Crowfeather stops, and thinks about the family he wanted with Squirrelflight, and agrees. When two of the kits die moments after their birth, his slowly healing heart breaks all over again.)

When Brambleclaw first sees the kits, he remembers how close Squirrelflight and Crowfeather were, and he knows that they will grow up without a father. He’s always cared for Squirrelflight, like family, and that makes these kits his family. So he steps up, visits them in the nursery, brings them fresh prey to eat and feathers to play with. The clan takes notice. They look and assume. Ashfur asumes.

All five grow up loved. When Squirrelflight’s milk doesn’t go far enough to feed them all, Ferncloud steps in. They play with Mousekit, Hazelkit, and Berrykit and Cinderkit, Honeykit, Molekit, and Poppykit. Their aunt, Leafpool, and father, Brambleclaw, visit them everyday. Leafpool gives them sweet honey. Brambleclaw even stays to plays with them. Life is good.

After some fox-shaped bumps in the road, the five of them are apprenticed.

Sparkpaw to Sorreltail

Lionpaw to Brackenfur

Hollypaw to Leafpool

Jaypaw to Brightheart

and Alderpaw to Ashfur

Jaypaw is disgruntled about his mentor. Firestar only gave him Brightheart because he’s blind. They all pity him. They all expect him in the elder’s den by the end of his apprenticeship. He’ll prove them all wrong. Over time, Jaypaw learns that not everyone is against him and his caustic remarks soften.

Ashfur is not kind. When Hollypaw decides to stop her studies as a medicine cat and become a warrior apprentice, Alderpaw decides the opposite. The two switch mentors. Hollypaw has always been determined and ambitious. She takes whatever Ashfur throws at her. Alderpaw flourishes in the medicine den under Leafpool’s mentorship.

While Lionpaw and Sparkpaw find themselves in more conventional apprenticeships, they don’t leave their siblings to wallow in their troubles. Sparkpaw will claw the ears of any cat she hears bad mouthing Jaypaw. And Lionpaw walks beside Alderpaw and Hollypaw as they go to request their change in position. They have the bantering power of their mother and coordination in battle that gives them an edge over the others. As a duo, they leave scorch marks in their tracks.

When Lionpaw and Jaypaw dream of prophecies and the other three do not, a wedge starts to creep inbetween the siblings.

Time moves on and the five grow into young adults, receiving their full names. Sparkstorm, Lionblaze, Hollyshine, Jayflight, and Alderheart. Things are not as simple as they were in their youth.

A fire starts in the heart of ThunderClan camp and Ashfur takes that as his chance. When Leafpool is trying to find an exit with Lionblaze and Hollyshine, he corners them. And Leafpool is furious. She’s never been a fighter but she uses every once of strength in her body to tackle Ashfur out of the way.

She always knew he was no good. The looks he gave her sister and the kits had always bothered her. She spits insults as she clears the way for her little Lion and Holly.

You’re mistaken, she says to him, because these are my kits, and you will never understood what kind of power love gives to a mother.

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soobmint · 4 years ago

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voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

“And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

“We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

“Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

“Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

“How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

“Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

Until his voice was gone.

It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

“Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

“Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

“Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

“Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

“I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

“Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

“Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

“Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

“Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

“No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

“Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

“Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

“I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

“Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

“Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

“Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

“We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

“Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

“Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

“It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

“Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

“You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

“Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

“Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

“What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

“I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

“Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

“I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

“Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

“Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

“I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

“They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine—”

“No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand. He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

“We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

“Where should we set them?” He asked.

You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

“In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

“Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

“No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

“The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

“Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

“I said, why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

“That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

“Well, what’s the issue then?”

“You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

“You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

“I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

“How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

“You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

“No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

“What do you mean?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

“W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

“You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

“It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

“Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

“Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

“Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

“Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

“Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

“And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

“Should we run away?”

Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

“Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

“I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

“How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

“Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

“I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

“What did I say?”

“Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

“Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

“Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just . . . thought I heard someone.”

“Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

“Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

“When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

“And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

“No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

“No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

“Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

“Yep. No answer.”

“Taehyun?”

“Nothing.”

“The professor?”

“Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

“Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

“Hey, we said we were starting over.”

You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

“What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

“It was—”

“It was real pretty, kid.”

You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

“If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

“Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

“What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

“Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

“How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

“First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

“Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

“Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

“Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

“Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

“Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

“Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

“Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

“What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

“My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

“I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

“No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

“I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

“What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

“It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

“Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

“Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

“No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

“How about Beomgyu?”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

“A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

“It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

“Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

“I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

“What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

“There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

“Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

“Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

“Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

“I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

“Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

“Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

“Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

“Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

“Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

“Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

It was your soulmates voice.

You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

“Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

Beomgyu was your soulmate.

Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

“I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

“Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That you’re my soulmate.”

He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

“So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

“I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“Should we run away?” He asked.

This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

2K notes · View notes

honeyhan-123 · 3 years ago

Text

A Slice of Heaven ~ Part Two

Summary: When Jensen stumbles across Melody Meringue on a cam website, he just can’t forget her and his obsession blurs the lines between right and wrong.

Warnings: dark!Jake Jensen, masterbation, camgirl, ice play, unequal power, this is not a healthy cam girl/patron relationship!

Word Count: 2.6k

Notes: I’m so glad y’all have been enjoying this series so far so here’s an update a day early! This is slightly more reader focussed but the next one will be back to Jensen.

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part One

Your back ached as you climbed up the stairs to your apartment. The temptation to quit your job was stronger than ever but you knew your side hustle couldn’t keep you afloat forever. Eventually you would lose the demure appeal and your patrons would move onto the next young girl.

Already you felt like you were pushing the boundaries of your age, claiming to be a couple years younger than you really were. It wasn’t a big difference, definitely passable in the sensual lighting of your shows, with your eyes hidden behind a mask but still, you knew it couldn’t last forever. You just had to save up enough so you could have a nice little nest egg for when you had to rely solely on your real job. Not that being a minimum wage sales assistant was much of a “real” job. It definitely wasn’t where you had pictured yourself being back at university.

Your keys rattled in the door and all you truly wanted to do was crash on the lumpy sofa and binge a few episodes of whatever was on. But no. He had requested another show.

Normally your side hustle only took up three nights a week but ever since he had become a patron, it was more like five or six nights a week. You had no idea who he even was, only that he went by the username JJrulez and paid well. He was a regular in your normal shows, always tipping generously and had recently become a private viewer too. You always made more money in the group shows, yet with how generous he had been, you felt the need to cater to him when he asked for a private session. He didn’t seem to like the public ones, and some of the comments he had made about how he didn’t want other men seeing you did make you feel a little uneasy, but it was easy to just brush it off. He was just a faceless voice online.

And really, you did feel a little bad for him. Spending hundreds of dollars on some girl you’d never met seemed pretty pitiful. You couldn’t imagine wasting that kind of money, but at the same time you were glad he was.

You showered and prepared for tonight’s show. You could never be quite certain what JJ was in the mood for. Sometimes he was forceful in what he wanted, dictating your every move. Other times he was more laid back, happy to watch whatever you had prepared. You hoped tonight was one of the latter types.

You climbed up onto the bed and switched on your webcam. You logged into the private chat and sent him the link and within moments, he joined you in the session. Like always, he didn’t turn on his camera but you knew he was there from the soft breaths that came across the speakers. He always rattled your nerves but you swallowed down your fear as you tried to speak.

‘Hi baby. how’re you feeling tonight?’

‘So much better now that you’re here baby. You were on my mind all day at work.’ You plastered on a smile for the camera despite the pit in your stomach. It was too much. He was too much.

‘What were you in the mood for tonight?’

‘Well tonight I thought we could switch things up a little bit. You have one of those fridges with an ice dispenser don’t you?’ You nodded, unsure of where he was going with this.

‘That’s good. I want you to go fill up a bowl with some ice for me, honey. And then I want you to come back here as fast as you can.’

‘Okay.’ Your voice was more shaky than you really liked but you did what he said and stumbled your way to the kitchen. You felt out of control as you filled the bowl. You had thought that starting a camming business you would be the powerful one but now you felt anything but.

You climbed back onto the bed and held out the bowl in front of you, ‘is that enough?’

‘Yeah honey. That would be plenty. Why don’t you shimmy out of that little set. I want to see those perfect tits.’ You undid the clasp of your bra and the sheer material fell away, before you wiggled out of the matching panties. You could hear him let out a groan at the sight. ‘Now get some of the ice honey. I wanna see you rub it over your body.’

The ice was much colder than your heated apartment and it sent a shiver down your spine. He seemed to enjoy your reaction, even more so when you started rubbing the cube along your decolletage. ‘Move it a little slower, draw it out for me.’ You obeyed the voice as always and slowed your movements. It was just like a messed up version of a tease. The ice melted against your skin and you could feel the water cascade down your torso. You’d definitely be wanting a hot shower after this session.

Eventually the ice reached your nipple and you couldn’t help the gasp. You could hear him chuckle over the speakers. ‘Doesn’t that feel good honey? Do the other one now.’ You reached back into the bowl of ice and grabbed a new cube, starting the process all over again.

Once both of your nipples were starting to hurt from the cold he finally let you stop. ‘Now I want to see that pretty little pussy.’ His voice was slightly laboured with his heavy breathing but it still yielded far more control than you felt.

You leaned back on the bed and brought your knees up on either side of you, giving him a clear view of your cunt. ‘That’s good honey. Now get some ice and make that pussy wet.’ Your toes curled and your cunt clenched at the thought of rubbing ice along your lower lips. You’d never done something like this before, and a tiny part of you was interested in giving it a try.

You took a bracing breath as you reached into the ice bucket once more. You repeated a little tease for him, trying to build up the anticipation. The ice cube danced along your breasts before slowly sliding down your stomach and you heard him let out an appreciative groan as it passed your navel.

‘That’s it honey. You’re doing so good.’ You could hear movement from his end of the connection and could only imagine he was teasing himself. You had to wonder if he had his own ice bucket beside him.

Your gut clenched as you trailed the ice along your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to where he wanted it.

You couldn’t help the squeal when the cube finally came into contact with your lips. The pure coldness was jarring against the heat of your flesh. JJ let out a chuckle at your reaction, his tone hinting of condescension as he teased. ‘Aww honey, does it feel a little weird?’

You couldn’t find your voice through the lump in your throat and the best response you could make was a little whimper and nod of your head.

‘That’s good honey. This kind of thing is all about the line between pain and pleasure and I bet your pretty little pussy is just so sensitive.’ A chill that had nothing to do with the ice went down your spine at his mention of pain. He’d asked you to do some pretty questionable stuff in your sessions together but you definitely didn’t trust him enough for that kind of thing.

He must have seen the hesitation on your face as he quickly spilled out ‘don’t worry about the pain honey. I mean, how could I even inflict any on you through a computer?’ His words did little to reassure you but you couldn’t seem to find the word to say what you wanted. Instead, you just plastered on a fake smile and tried to slip back into the Melody Meringue persona that you had almost perfected.

‘Well, I’m all about pleasure here.’ Your voice was a little too shaky for your comfort but you tried to fake your way through it.

‘Oh yeah? Am I making you feel good honey?’

You faked a breathy moan, ‘yeah baby. So good.’

‘I wanna see your pretty pussy swallow that ice for me.’ Your fingers played with the cube as you tried to slip it into your heat, only to be stopped suddenly. ‘No honey, get a new one. I bet that pussy is so hot and wet, that cube’ll be melted in seconds.’ You followed his instructions once more and whimpered as the cold brushed against your walls.

The mixture of ice and heat felt strange. A little too strange for you to fully be into it as you felt the cube already start to melt slightly.

‘Now I wanna see you fuck yourself. Get that dildo, the one you used last time.’ You gulped and reached for the case next to you. The purple silicone one was the biggest of your collection and obviously a favourite of his. You couldn’t understand your patron’s obsessions with your bigger toys. Did they delude themselves into thinking that their cock was just as big as the eight inch monstrosity in your hand?

You quickly lubed up the silicone, sensing JJ’s impatience and lined it up with your cunt. The ice on its own felt weird enough and you weren’t sure how it would feel mixed with your hole being filled.

You took a deep breath before slowly sinking down onto the bulbous head. There was the familiar stretch deep inside of you as you pushed the tip past your entrance but it was mixed with the completely new sensation of the ice being pushed even further inside of you.

‘You’re taking that cock so good honey.’ JJ praised you as the base pressed against your lips, the entire thing finally inside you. ‘Now let me see you fuck it. I wanna see how you ride it. How you’d ride me.’ You tried to hide the grimace at his words. Your patrons said similar things all of the time but there was something so needy and possessive about JJ when he said things like this. It made you want to reiterate the rules with him.

But instead of doing any of that, you just continued to gyrate onto the dildo, doing as he said. The familiar squelch of your pussy taking the cock filled your room and you could hear similar sounds coming over the speaker from him.

‘God, fuck. Honey…’ He panted as your pace picked up.

‘Yeah baby. Just like that.’ You made your moans even breathier and felt the reliable tug in your gut. You were nearly there, but none of that mattered until he finished. You shifted into a kneeling position once more so you could really ride the dildo like he wanted. Your other hand reached up to play with your tit, pinching and slapping your nipples lightly. ‘Feels so good baby.’

‘Yeah you like that. You like that big cock filling you up, poking out from your belly.’ His grunts were so loud you felt like he was right in the room with you as he pleasured himself.

‘Yes baby. I do. I fucking love it.’

‘Course you do. Girls like you are all the same. Desperate for a nice big cock to split them open. I - I can’t wait to -’ His pants were heavy as his voice turned high and slightly whiny. You recognised the familiar pattern and slipped your hand down to your clit, getting ready to cum for him.

‘Baby, I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum.’

‘Yeah honey. Do it. Cum for me. Wanna see you cum.’ You let go, allowing yourself to fall off the edge. Your toes curled and you threw your head back. There was the familiar pulsing sensation in your clit as a spasm of energy travelled through your muscles. Your moans were caught in your throat as you rode out the orgasm. It was your favourite part of your sessions, the only time when you truly felt like yourself.

You were only slightly aware of JJ’s own orgasm, his whimpers filling your ears as he came, no doubt into a little fleshlight.

You took your time coming back to reality, enjoying the afterglow of the orgasm too much to let it go just yet.

When you do finally come around, you stretch out, allowing the thick dildo slip out of your quivering cunt. It sends another small wave of pleasure over you and you can’t help the smile. You slip on the black silk robe that you keep at the end of your bed for easy access like this and reposition yourself once more as you look into the mirror of yourself on the computer screen

His breaths are still heavy so you know he’s still there. ‘How’re you feeling baby?’

‘So good honey. You always make me feel better.’ He praised and you felt a stir in your stomach as a deep part of you preened. This, and your growing student debt was what had attracted you to camming in the first place.

‘I’m glad you feel better baby.’ You purred and reached for the water bottle by your bed, ready to log off and get some sleep.

‘Can I book an appointment for tomorrow night?’

You tried to bury the laugh that wanted to escape. It was more than just a little pathetic how eager he was but you shouldn’t complain. He had been paying most of your rent for the last few weeks.

‘I’m sorry baby, but I’ve got a public show tomorrow night. You’re obviously more than welcome to join though if you want to see me again.’

‘Well why don’t you just cancel it? We could spend the evening together.’

You bit your cheek as you thought over your words. It was always a tricky negotiation between keeping a private customer happy while maintaining all of your regulars and you needed them more than JJ. ‘It’s my weekly countdown. It’s where I make most of my money. Plus, how would that be fair to my other patrons?’ You tried to remain polite but firm as you denied him.

There was a slight pause and JJ huffed like a spoiled child. ‘Fine. What about the night after?’

Wow, he must really be desperate.

‘Unfortunately I’m otherwise engaged, I’ve got a personal matter to attend to. I don’t work Sundays either so the next time I can book you in is Monday.’

‘Monday?’ You could hear the affront in his tone and could imagine him pursing his lips as he considered the less than favourable outcome. There was a small silence and you weren’t sure how to break it.

‘Monday is my next free time.’ You tried to gently explain.

‘Fine.’ He huffed once more. ‘Book me in for Monday. The same time.’ His tone was curt and sharp and you barely had a chance to respond before the connection cut out, leaving you alone in the session. His familiar green blinking light turned grey, then black as he logged out and you hoped that you hadn’t just lost one of your best customers.

But then again, maybe giving JJ a bit of a berth wouldn’t be a bad idea. You had a feeling he could be a bit obsessive.

Tags will be added in a reblog

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Thanks for reading!

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #dark!jake jensen #dark!jensen #dark!jake jensen x reader #the losers #dark jensen #dark jake jensen

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alice-angel12x · 4 years ago

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💔Bunny!Shouto x Bunny!Reader

Beastar/hybrid/ Fantasy AU

[In this story everyone is a hybrid with animal instincts, and major height difference depending on the animals like in beastars. And magic exists. And sorry if Shouto seems out of character for you.]

"Shouto where are you?!" Y/n called for her friend.

Sadly Shouto's mind was elsewhere, for he had fallen in love with the wolf princess Momo. Every day he would sit at the edge of cottonwood village and gaze upon The princess from afar.

"Shouto, there you are," Y/n said with a smile.

But that quickly turned into a sad frown as she saw Shouto eyeing the crescent castle. Kingdom of the wolves. Know most would wonder, why is there a rabbit village a hop skip, and a jump away from a wolf kingdom. Well, every time the village tries to move away rogue wolves would attack. Yet once they got close to the castle they would quickly run away. The king of the wolves claimed that as long as they stayed within the boundaries of the kingdom, they would protect them. Y/n never bought that. She noticed that once every year one rabbit from the village would disappear. Many believed it was from the rogue wolves, sneaking in and past the guards. So Y/n was worried about her friend falling in love with a wolf, a rabbit falling in love with a wolf.

"Oh Hi, Y/n," was all he said not even turning to look at her.

"How are you feeling, you know since spring is coming up?" Y/n asked him slowly.

"I'm fine," was all he said. "How about you,"

"I'm good still looking for my prince charming you know," Y/n said wistfully.

"You so childish," Shouto said as he finally turned to her.

"I'm 16 what's so childish about that?" Y/n asked as she turned to head back to the village.

Cottonwood Village is a quaint little town of Rabbits. In the middle of the village was a large cottage where the leader/mayor lived with his family, Shouto's family. The leader was endeavor Shouto's father, he was a part of the group of rabbits that believed the wolves were hiding something.

"Does your father know about your umm, dream girl?" Y/n asked.

"My father already has enough control of my life, I'm not about to let him control my love life," Shouto said coldly.

"You shouldn't get too close to the castle, it's dangerous," Y/n said in a worried tone.

"I know your thoughts on Wolves Y/n. But the wolves have shown use that they have other alternative foods. Like soy and bean-made meat," Shouto explained.

"It's easy to say that when it's not someone you care about goes missing," Y/n muttered bitterly, but Shouto sadly heard her.

"Y/n, it was the rogues that got your brother. And the Kingdom felt with them remember," Shouto sighed in annoyance.

"Shouto are you sure you love this wolf girl or is this just one of your I just wanna piss off my dad things?" Y/n asked bitterly.

"If You don't like it then you could always find someone else to hang out with, Y/n!" Shouto said as his left side lit up in flames.

Y/n quickly ran off, startled by Shouto's flame magic. Shouto sighed in frustration as he realized he used his father's Flames. After that Shouto avoided Y/n like the plague, and it didn't help that his father eventually found out Shouto was in love with a wolf. Endeavor did not like that, so he started setting updates for Shouto to try to take his mind off Momo.

Y/n tried to apologize and rekindle with him, but he would only give her the cold shoulder.

Y/n could see the sorrow and anger Shouto was in, so she barrier her feelings for him and braved the dark forest. She heard rumors that a powerful owl named All For One could perform miracles, even change species. She eventually found him a creepy old owl.

"E-excuse me, sir," Y/n stuttered as the owl turned his head 180° to look at her.

"I wanted to know if you had the power to change a person's species?"

"Yes indeed child, and what species would you like to be, but it will cost you," All for One chuckled.

"How much would it cost?" She asked.

"Half of your soul. Your life Will be cut in half. You'll live to about 25 for you," he answered as he towered over Y/n.

"I would like to pay for someone. If a red and white male rabbit comes and asks to change him, please take my soul," Y/n said in confidence.

"You young people always ready to throw your life away," he muttered as ripped out half of Y/n's soul.

And with that, she quickly ran back to the village, with Half of her soul in toe. She managed to track down Shouto and told him about All for One but left out the part of selling half of her soul.

Shouto did not waste time to find the owl and demand him to turn him into a wolf.

____________ [4 years later]

It has been 4 years since I changed into a wolf. When I changed, I found myself waking up in a large bed. I was found by Princess Momo herself. She helped was so sweet and kind, and was more than happy to explain wolf society. When I told her I was raised by Herbavoir animals. I was an Omega, while She was an Alpha.

Yet I enjoyed the times we spent together, I had never felt so free. She would help my heats or anything that confused me. It took a while to get used to eating soy meat, but I didn't mind all that much. All for One said he could change me and give me Wolf-like instincts, but he couldn't remove my Rabbit instincts. So it took a long time to suppress those instincts.

°° Today Momo had important meetings, so I was left to my own devices. So I decided to take a stroll through the forest. As I wandered through the forest I could hear humming coming from a nearby river. I peaked out from behind the tree, too see a rabbit bathing in the river. I recognized that rabbit, with her lovely H/c hair and beautiful snow-white rabbit ears and Tail.

"Y/n?" I called out to her.

Y/n quickly turned around to face me as she covered her chest with her arms. As my eyes took in all of her details I could feel the rest of the world fading away. It was just me and Y/n. In my new wolf body, Y/n looked so small compared to me now.

She matured a lot over these past 4 years. For some reason I couldn't see her as the childish dreamer 4 years ago, I couldn't figure out why.

"Umm hello Shouto, your taller," Y/n said as she started backing away.

"I-it's good to see you again Y/n," stuttered as I felt the heat rush to my face.

She smiled sweetly at me as she grabbed her robes as he made her way over to you. Seeing her standing In front of me was odd. I remember when I was still a rabbit I was just a few inches taller than her. But now she just barely reached my mid waist.

We sat under a tree and talked for hours about what had happened to me. And she sat there and listened very closely. Her robes v neck was very revealing and I started to feel hot.

She seemed to notice as she got and started to walk with a slight sway in her hips. A dormant instinct awakens within me as the rabbit inside me begged to go after her.

"It seems you're a bit too excited to see me. If I remember correctly I was too childish for you~," She said with a smooth seductive voice.

I had to hold back the Rabbit instincts as I watched cross to the other side of the river.

"I'm afraid I have to leave now, spring is just around the corner after all~," She cooed as she disappeared behind the trees.

I felt hot in a certain place as I felt my tail wag uncontrollably on the ground. That wasn't the last time I went out to see Y/n. Anytime Momo was busy I would meet Y/n by the river and we would talk.

One day it was a particularly hot day as I made my way to Y/n's meet site. Today she was wearing a large floppy sun hat and a cute spring dress.

"So what us Momo like?" Y/n asked curiously.

"She's wonderful, she's kind, smart, and gentle," I said to her as I started to talk about my fiance.

"Hey Shouto are you okay, you seem sluggish today and in pain?" Y/n asked worriedly.

"Oh don't worry, I'm going into heat soon. So I'll be sore for a while, the downsides to being an Omega wolf," I explained.

"That sucks, is there any way I can help you?" Y/n asked as she hugged my neck. She smelled like a field of wildflowers, I couldn't help but return her hug. ---

As The two old friends were talking they failed to notice two figures creeping behind them. Before Y/n could react, a large hand grabbed her by the ears and lifted her off the ground. She screamed and thrashed against her captors. Shouto quickly got up and tackled the man as he pulled Y/n into his arms and ran.

"It's the rogues, we need to head back to the castle," Shouto struggled to say as he ran.

But as he ran his body began to ache and became heavy. His vision started to blur and his steps became uncertain. Shouto tripped and tumbled down the hill with Y/n in toe. As he collapsed on the ground his eyes slowly closed as his body gave out.

"SHOUTO, PLEASE WAKE UP!!'' was the last thing he heard.

------

As my eyes opened up, I found myself in my room or my nest. suddenly Momo came in with her usual sweet smile.

" Good your fully awake, it's good to see you took well to the stew," she smiled as she picked up the empty bowl next to me.

"W-what happened to me," Shouto asked as he tried to sit up.

" You're in your heat, but it is taking a larger toll on you because your body lacks certain nutrients that soy meat can't provide. So our hunters found a rabbit near you and gave her to our chiefs and made you rabbit stew," Momo explained.

Shouto felt his whole world shatter as his stomach noted and squeezed.

"Oh, my maid is coming with more stew. Today's rabbit such a delicious flavor," Momo said as she rubbed her finger in the empty bowl and licked off the stew on her finger.

Shouto began to tremble as the truth sank into him. His stomach lurched in disgust as he sat up and leaned onto a nearby wall. Soon a maid came in with a fresh bowl of ... Rabbit... Soup. Shouto tried to back away only for his back to meet another wall. The maid scooped a spoon full of Stew with a generous amount of cooked meat chunks.

"Open your mouth," the maid said using her Alpha order.

Shouto's omega body slowly opened its mouth, despite Shouto's wishes. As the maid feeds him a spoonful of rabbit stew. The maid ordered him to chew and swallow, and he did. Heavy tears ran down Shouto's face as his body betrayed him. It felt like an eternity to finish the entire bowl of Stew.

____

Soon as the maid left Shouto pushed himself onto his feet and made his way down to the kitchen.

'It couldn't be Y/n right? She must have run away to safety,' he thought to himself.

As he entered he saw the chief with a cloth sack ready to be thrown out. Shouto quickly offered to take it out for them as a thank you for the meal. And the chief happily gave the sac to Shouto.

Once he was out he ran deep into the forest and opened the bag to see a fresh skeleton of a small rabbit. But inside he pulled out a familiar sun hat and spring dress. His stomach lurched and forced up the stew into a nearby bush.

"I... I ate her!! I ate Y/n', His mind screamed in shame, disgust, and sorrow as he began to sob.

Flashes of Y/n's beautiful smile and lively eyes appeared in his mind.

He held up Y/n's dress, it looked so small. The perfect size for a Pup maybe, but he knew this dress was the size for a fully grown rabbit, a young woman. He held the dress close to his chest like he was Hugging Y/n again.

Shouto with his head low he snuck back to his nest. Laying down he slowly pushed away most of the fabric Momo scented as he held Y/n's dress close to him. He could still smell the field of wildflowers on her dress.

"I can still smell you Y/n," He whimpered to himself.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto #shouto x reader #fantasy au #a/b/o #crossover #hybrid #todoroki x reader #Angst #slight horror #Maybe not really

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stellocchia · 3 years ago

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Crime boys angst? Crime boys angst. They are not giving me canon content so here we are...

It’s always from the Platonic Soulmates AU (and sort of a sequel to Bee Duo's case? Kind of. Same universe as that, but they aren’t really related).

Quick introduction:

The 3 type of soulmates are: Romantic, Platonic and Familial. When you have a soul bond you can feel the other person’s emotions. The stronger the bond the more clearly you can feel them.

The Once Brothers

Once upon a time, Tommy believed soulmates to be a wonderful thing.

He heard so many stories of people finding their fated person, someone who’d stay by their side and protect and cherish them forever. Be it romantic, platonic, or familiar a soulmate bond was supposed to be the purest form of love.

He believed in this even as everyday survival was a struggle and believed it even more when he met Wilbur. The two became like brothers in a matter of hours and no one was ever surprised to find out they were soulmates from then on.

They had so much in common, both of them sharing a desire for adventure, a rebellious soul, and a big heart. They cared for each other and for anyone else they considered family fiercely.

And maybe sometimes Tommy was a bit too hot-headed and needed Wilbur to calm him down. And maybe Wilbur sometimes let his worries get too much power over him and needed Tommy to distract him. But that’s what soulmates are for! They balanced each other nicely and were unstoppable as a duo.

Looking at his scarred wrist now Tommy has no idea where it went wrong.

Everything was fun when they started their small potion business and no conflict was truly serious.

Everything was fine when they spent their nights making battle plans, a proud look on Wilbur’s face any time Tommy showed off his ingenuity for battle strategies as his first in command. He let him down in the end, failing to predict a betrayal that should have been obvious to the young general.

Everything was sort of okay when Tommy spent his nights just outside Wilbur’s office door because his older brother didn’t want to be seen crying but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the other one alone in his moments of need.

The elections came and things changed. They were chased out of their own country, hunted down to be slaughtered, and drove deep into the woods. The two brothers were left with one life each huddling in a cave bloodied and bruised but still together.

Everything could be fixed still, of course!

Everything could have been fixed… but it wasn’t.

Wilbur slipped away more and more into his own mind, where Tommy couldn’t reach him anymore. He tried to. Time and time again he tried to reason with his brother, he tried to keep him from giving up. He invited more and more people into Pogtopia hoping that other friends and familiar faces could help him save his soulmate. Nothing worked in the end and, suddenly, Wilbur wasn’t there anymore.

Wilbur’s death was the worst pain he ever felt. Tommy saw the sword flashing in Phil’s hand and it was like his own heart was the one getting impaled instead of Wilbur’s. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Nothing was the same once his older brother was gone. He tried to keep going but he couldn’t remember how to live after spending so much time surviving and his other half wasn’t there anymore to balance his brashness with logic. He wasn’t there anymore to make him laugh and brighten his day. Wilbur simply wasn’t there.

But, looking back at it now, maybe things were still good back then. They must have been since everyone claimed him to be spoiled and selfish as soon as he stepped one foot out of line. He probably should have learned to deal with grief before trying to live again, might have spared him some mistakes.

He didn’t though, and he ended up getting exiled again. There weren’t any arrows threatening to tear apart his flesh this time, just a hand that wouldn’t leave his shoulder and the happy chatter of an amnesiac ghost. It was almost deceptively serene.

Tommy doesn’t like thinking about exile, but it’s not for the reasons that Captain Puffy seems to think. She says that exile didn’t make him weak, that he didn’t deserve what happened to him, and maybe he can agree with that. Maybe if he repeats it enough times he’ll even start believing it. But no, the reason why he hates thinking about it is that he betrayed Wilbur. And it was his choice, his weakness that let him believe Dream’s sweet promises, no matter what his therapist says.

He got rid of the signs of his transgression the best he could, but the knowledge that His name used to be etched into his skin will never leave him.

But he isn’t in exile anymore! He left. He left and he was free once more!

He didn’t manage to wrap his wrist up while with Techno, having barely enough materials to mend his clothing and make himself a new shoe. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to at the time. It wasn’t until Phil made a passing comment on it that it became important. The comment wasn’t even mean-spirited, just something along the lines of: “Oh, you got a new soulmate mate?” asked along with a fatherly smile. He seemed happy for him, and Tommy only wanted to scream.

Doomsday came and went in a blur. War coming easily to Tommy, even with the loss weighting on him, he felt more like himself than he did in months. He was sad to see the country he’d founded crumble in front of him, of course, but there was also a certain sense of detachment: it hadn’t been his home in a long time after all…

The final confrontation with Dream was different. It was him and Tubbo side by side against the one that marked him as his own plaything and tormented him for longer than he’d like to admit. He wasn’t expecting to survive it, but, alas, things turned out in the boys’ favour.

Why did he have to ruin that for something as ridiculous as closure? What part of his life ever made him think that he would be afforded that courtesy? Dream didn’t even let him rest, finally reunited with his brother in his own personal nightmare. Tommy must have truly been a fool for believing that he would.

And now Wilbur is back! He is back and their bond is still as strong as ever, only now instead of safety and comfort, there is possessiveness and a warped sense of caring coming through it.

Tommy knows he should leave him, Puffy said as much while blabbering on about “enmeshment” and other fancy words that he’s gonna learn out of spite alone. Something about a relationship needing “clear boundaries” and how sometimes distancing yourself from someone is the “healthier option”. She’s probably right and he knows that. He knows, but his heart stopped hurting for the first time in months. He knows, but Wilbur was the first person to notice the scar on his wrist and get angry on his behalf. He knows, but Tommy never learned to let go.

He can’t even tell if it’s him or Wilbur who’s so afraid of being alone again. Maybe both. Maybe that’s why he’ll cling to this bond just a little longer. Just until he’s sure that Wilbur won’t disappear when he’s not looking. Until they’re both safe and he’s worthy enough for his brother to be honest with him.

He knows that he should leave, and he will! He will, but not now.

#dream smp au #platonic soulmates au #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #crime boys #my writing/fanfic thingy?#tw implied self harm #tw implied abuse #tw self-deprecation #c!tommy simply has no self esteem #he's traying his best though!#either way this two are most definitely familial soulmates #it fits better than platonic for them #I mean they are calling themselves family!#that's all on them!

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candreloup · 3 years ago

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Hello! So, here's the surprise! I'm doing a collab with@villain-enthusiast! We decided to split an ask into two parts- I'm doing part one, and they'll do part 2. The ask is from an anon- but whoever you are, here's your ask! Also- to the people reading this, make sure to go check out part 2 on @villain-enthusiast's 's blog! I'll add the link when it's up. Anyways, on to the story!

(Also this ask is addressed to@villain-enthusiast, NOT me)

hi! i really love your writing, and i was wondering if you could write a snippet where an assassin is given a lucrative sum of money to kill a prince, but when she tries to, it turns out that the prince is like, /five/, and his parents really suck (like, really, really suck), so she ends up faking the prince's death and adopting (read: kidnapping)

"I need you to kill someone."

The bag thumped onto the table, clanking with the distinct sound of coins.

Assassin raised an eyebrow. "That little?"

The man at the end of the table scoffed. "There's more."

"How much more?"

"Enough."

Assassin snorted and spun in her chair, turning and getting up.

"50,000."

Assassin started walking.

"100,000."

She kept walking, strolling lazily along the plush carpet. The man behind her huffed in exasperation. "What more do you want?" Assassin laughed.

"You know the price- you tell me."

"...500,000."

Her back still turned, Assassin paused, calculating. 500,000. It was a ridiculous sum for an assassination- even she knew that. Half a million was enough to live off of for... well, for a while. On one hand- it was almost too good to be true. On the other hand, she knew full well it was going to be risky. No one in their right minds would give half a million for an easy kill. But money was money, and she'd done hard kills for less money. After a moment of hesitation, Assassin spun on her heel.

"Now that's what I'm talking about."

Assassin crouched on the roof, staring into the glowing windows of the castle. A prince. It had been a while since Assassin had killed a royal- the heavy defenses and high risk made it a task she'd only once accepted. The knowledge had made Assassin hesitate- but that hesitation vanished when the man raised the prices to 700,000 without blinking an eye. Jesus. How important was this prince, anyways? He was in line to inherit a small kingdom- beneath most others' notice and unlikely to pose any threat. Oh well. In this business, Assassin had learned not to pry. It never went well. The last time she'd gotten involved... well, it hadn't gone the best. For her or the target. Better to keep out of it and just do the job.

The curtain moved, focusing Assassin's attention on it. She was perched on one of the castle's roofs- one that was relatively far away from the guard but close enough for her to use binoculars to see what she assumed was the prince's room. It was a strangely childlike room, with a regal look and a huge vaulted ceiling-but with decorations that seemed more fit for a toddler than an adult. The curtain was pulled aside by a woman- the queen, a tall middle aged woman with crease lines on her forehead- and pinned to the walls. The door slid open and the queen stood there, breathing in the night air. She turned suddenly, something pulling on her dress. A child's hand. Whose- As the queen turned, it hit her. The prince is a child.

Shit. In the years she'd been killing, Assassin had never touched children. She had lines, boundaries she didn't cross. Killing the bedridden, senile, children- that she didn't do. Her morality wasn't shattered enough to stoop that low. She could make money other ways.

Shit. Assassin silently cursed her stupidity. Why hadn't she asked for more details? The man had been cagey, nervous- but it wasn't unusual for new clients to be more reserved. The thing that should have tipped her off was when he'd refused to give her more information than the prince's hair color and eye color. She'd assumed- god, she should've known- that the prince was a young adult- at least past his teenage years and soon to inherit the throne. But not a child. His parents were unusually old for the prince's age, too; they must have had a child early.

It was a good thing this was a reconnaissance mission. She'd just have to go back and-

A sudden burst of movement from the window caught Assassin's attention. The woman was upset, waving her arms and moving around the room agitatedly. The prince just sat on the bed, head hung and feet dangling. What the hell? Assassin decided not to get involved. That was the best thing to do.

Don't get involved. Ignore it.

And then the queen slapped the child. Hard. Across the face.

From what Assassin could see, the child wasn't crying- only sitting, still dangling his legs over the edge of the bed like a doll. The queen was clearly screaming, pointing to something with her mouth moving. She slammed her hand on a table, still screaming about something, and grabbed the boy's legs, stopping their dangling motion. He didn't seem to be saying anything- but the woman was getting angrier and angrier by the second. She was throwing things now, hurling papers and books off of desks and smashing objects on the floor. The prince did nothing. Finally, the woman stormed off, a trail of destruction following her. The door slammed, and the little boy sat on the bed, crying.

Assassin was pissed. She didn't know what the argument was about, or why the queen thought she could slap her child. The boy looked young- what, five? Too young to be hit like that. And the fact that he hadn't started crying until his mother left the room made Assassin very doubtful of their relationship.

It's not my business. Assassin could feel the anger building up, boiling white-hot. Not my business. She remembered screams from a different time, bruises and cuts in places that couldn't be seen.

Just keep out of it. Yelling and the crashing sounds of things shattering echoing down the hallway. Sobbing, and the sound of skin thrown violently against skin. The metallic smell of blood.

No.

Assassin stood up carefully and started to climb down the roof.

It's my business now.

The next few days were a blur of preparation. What to do, how to handle the parents, where to go- and how to safely take the prince. How to remove the bounty on his head. How to get away without the retaliation of the man who'd paid her to kill this child. She'd have to plant a fake body, make a possible story- preferably one that pinned the parents. They deserved the worst.

The first step was sneaking into the castle and observing the situation more carefully. Their private lives were a cesspool of violence and rage. From father to mother, mother to son and father to son. Throwing things, hitting things, hitting people- everything was a target. Close servants, mistresses, even the unfortunate people who happened to find the king in his drunken rages. Everything was, of course, kept under wraps. It wouldn't do to have the royal family exposed for domestic violence and abuse. No, instead they always appeared as a perfect family. Even when the king was drunk, he was always sober enough to leave marks where no one else could see them. The queen wore long sleeves. So did the prince.

Assassin couldn't stand to watch their family for more than an hour. Except for the prince. She was extremely interested in him. He was seven, but looked a lot smaller than he should have. Probably because... well, Assassin didn't want to think about that. He studied constantly. Partly because of his parents and partly because of his own volition- his parents left him alone when he was studying.

It only took a day or so for Assassin to figure out the best plan to get the prince out after she'd figured out their schedules. She had to plant a fake dead body in the prince's room, bring him out through the window. Night was the best time- everyone was sleeping and the guard's visibility was much lower. But she had to act fast. The rotation was tight, with barely any breaks in their watches. She'd only been able to observe them from a fairly far away tower using her best gear, and only because the palace had such large windows. But the guards were also only human, and she'd slipped past castle defenses before.

That night was dark, a kind of pitch blackness that covered even the stars' piercing lights. The perfect night for Assassin, with even the moon only a sliver in the sky. Tonight was the night. She'd known the minute the sun went down and she could barely see past the end of her street. It was perfect.

She slipped past the guards fairly easily- only a few close calls that set her heart racing. Everything else was a breeze past that, the climbing not difficult as long as she stayed low. The prince's room was near another roof, the window and balcony protruding from it easily accessible. It was going too well.

Assassin finally made it onto the balcony, silently sliding through the open window. The queen had left it slightly open after she left the room, slamming the door as usual. The window was a tall one, a typical French Window leading onto a huge balcony. She stood in the prince's room for a moment, looking around to make sure she was alone before she walked quietly to the boy's bed. He was sleeping soundly, chest rising and falling steadily.

Assassin reached out a hand to his head.

Something grabbed her wrist suddenly. Assassin jolted in shock, twisting her wrist away instinctively.

The prince was sitting up in bed, staring at her.

"What are you doing?"

#assassin #ask #collab #check other person out #child person #palace #prince #royalty #terrible adults

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober #27: The Lake: Bakusquad

In which you and Kirishima take a trip to the lake for a little class reunion.

Characters: primarily Kirishima / f!reader, but also Jirou, Sero, Kaminari, Bakugou and Mina / f!reader AND background Kaminari / Jirou

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, pro-hero Kiri, Bakugou, Denki, Jirou, Mina and Sero, group sex, polyamory, brief mentions of drinking, not a whole lot of attention paid to protection (sorry...)

Notes: Today’s prompt was “Orgy.” You can probably tell by how many fcking PEOPLE are involved lmao. I... had trouble with this one! This was tough. There are a lot of limbs to keep track of. But I wouldn’t be opposed to re-visiting this dynamic again soon, with more time to play around a little.

I know it says 1-A on the masterlist, but it really did turn out to be more of a Bakusquad thing, sorry!

Kinktober Masterlist

You’re folding one last sweater into your weekend bag and zipping it up when Kirishima swings by to pick you up.

After a very long, hot summer week at the office, your boss let you go a couple of hours early on a slow Friday afternoon- just soon enough to catch the early train home. It turned out to be very lucky indeed, since Kirishima’s already here and you’re just finishing up your packing.

Then again, it’s not your fault you’ve been agonizing over what to bring.

The buzzer by your door sends your heart leaping into your throat, but it only takes a quick peek out the front window to confirm that it’s Kiri. He knows that you’ll look before you head for the door, so he’s stepped back from the front stoop a little and shoots you a bashful wave with one hand shoved into his pocket.

You melt. He’s cute enough to put your nerves to rest.

“Good afternoon, milady,” he greets with a sweep of charming enthusiasm when you pull the door open for him. He bows playfully before stepping into your apartment. “I will be your escort this weekend. Show me to your luggage.”

“I don’t think there’s enough of it to be called ‘luggage,’” you giggle. You slip an arm around his neck and push a kiss against his cheek.

“Hi.”

He gasps, pressing his fingers to the spot where your lips touched.

“Such unprofessional behaviour. I’m going to have to report this, you know.”

“Shut up.” You bat at his chest. The bastard, in all his well-muscled glory, barely flinches. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The threat’s playful, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it, it in the darkest hours of the night before.

Every year, on the last weekend in July, Kirishima gets together with some old friends from UA. They rent a little cabin out by the lake, drink, party, and catch up. You’ve been dating just under a year, so you’ve never been to one of these before. Even though you’ve met everybody who’s going to be there individually, it’ll be the first time you see them as a group.

And Kirishima’s known them for ten years. You like to think you know him pretty well, but compared to them, you’re strangers.

“It’s not too late to,” he breathes, pausing to glance at you with a moment’s sincerity.

“No,” you brush. “No, I’m fine.” You put your hands on his forearms and squeeze gently. “Nervous, but… that’s what the drive up is for, right?”

“Yeah.” He flashes you a grin that steals your heart over and over again, sweeping you and your little suitcase out the door.

The drive is breezy and surprisingly quick, given the expected level of weekend cottage-country-traffic. You blast the radio and turn it down during the commercials. But you can’t help the sinking dread that pits in your stomach when the ETA in your navigation app drops from an hour and a half to forty-five minutes to five minutes.

The drive was supposed to be your chance to settle your nerves. You’re not ready to be here yet.

When you pull down the sloped gravel driveway of the cabin, there are already three cars there. You recognize Bakugou’s sleek Audi, but you can only assume that the other two belong to the rest of the crew.

So everyone else is already here. Makes sense. Nobody else works 9-5, so they probably cut off early to get here.

Doesn’t make you any less freaked out.

Kirishima insists on grabbing both of your bags. He shoulders his way into the cabin with excitement building in every muscle. You can see it from ten feet away. He’s thrilled to be here. That thought honestly helps, for a hot minute.

Until you hear the voices that drift from inside.

The whole cabin’s lit up with savoury, beautiful smells when you step inside. The kitchen’s crowded- Bakugou’s chopping vegetables and doing his best to shoo everyone out of his way while he sautés and chops and glazes and bakes.

“Jesus Christ. Finally. Will you get these assholes outta my way?” Bakugou snarls, waving his knife around as soon as he catches sight of the two of you.

Before you can even laugh properly at Bakugou’s temper, there’s a high-pitched squeal of your name from behind him, and he’s abruptly shoved against the edge of the counter as a bright pink blur streaks around the island and launches herself at you.

“Hiiiii,” Mina coos, pressing a kiss to your cheek after she’s given you a tight squeeze.

The rest of the party filters in around you- Sero and Denki crowding not-so-subtly around the new addition to their little crew while Jirou makes her way over at a respectful pace. It becomes obvious to you almost immediately that you’re the first girl Kirishima’s ever brought to one of these.

You want to let that feel special. Instead, the intimidation only spikes.

You need to relax.

“Here, babe,” Mina sighs, shooing the boys away from you. “Kiri’ll take your bags upstairs. Let’s get you a drink.”

She grabs your hand and drags you toward the bar cart in the living room. Kirishima disappears up the stairs, but before you know it, he’s re-appearing. So is everybody else. The smells from the kitchen are growing unbearably tantalizing.

Bakugou hollers when dinner’s ready.

He’s done glazed pork chops with some kind of gorgeous mango slaw- indulgent and delicious, but light enough that none of you will be too stuffed at the end of the meal. You sit between him and Kirishima and everybody catches up.

Mina and Sero are starting an agency together. Denki and Jirou found a place together just outside of the city. And Bakugou, of all people, has just taken on his first U.A. intern.

You feel sorry for the poor kid already.

Once the dinner dishes have been cleared, you’re starting to feel more at ease. The conversation flows easily between the group of you, and you’re kind of killing it with the one-liners. Even Bakugou gives a dull chuckle when you land a particularly good one.

But the real purpose of this weekend can’t be put off forever.

“Babe,” Mina coos eventually, leaning over Kirishima to settle a hand on your thigh. “I am so excited that you’re here. Do you know how long it’s been since we had anybody new to play with?”

“Mina,” Kirishima scolds. “Don’t scare her.”

“What?” Mina sits up. “You said you were gonna tell her before you brought her here. Kiri, tell me you talked to her.” She looked up at you with wide eyes. “He told you, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” you promise, holding your hands up to settle her. “He talked to me. I agreed to come knowing full well what we’re here for. But… I’m still nervous as hell over here.”

“Don’t worry,” Mina promises. “We’re gonna take good care of you, sweets. Besides, you and Kiri and Bakugou have before, right? So between them, it’s basically like you’ve already slept with all of us.”

She’s got a point. But that doesn’t change the fact that your cheeks are like molten lava just thinking about it.

Every year, on the last weekend in July, Kirishima gets together with some old friends from UA. They rent a cabin out by the lake, drink, party… and fuck. You’ve shrugged monogamy with him before. Mina’s right- Bakugou’s joined you on a few different occasions. But this is something you’ve never even thought of trying before.

Still, Kirishima makes you want to take risks. He’s always been good that way- encouraging you to push your comfort zone without compromising your boundaries. When you first talked about this weekend, he’d framed his little pitch with the promise that if you weren’t comfortable with it, he was happy to miss out on it, too.

But you know his friends. You know his character. You trust him.

So you jumped.

“She’s so cute when she’s embarrassed,” Denki chuckles, propping his chin in his hand. He’s got his other palm on Jirou’s thigh under the table. In fact, everybody’s starting to get closer, now that dinner’s been taken care of.

“Let me kiss her. Please, Kiri?” Mina leans over again, resting a palm on Kiri’s lap as she bats her eyelashes at you.

“You’re gonna have to ask her yourself, Mina,” Kiri chides. He folds his arms behind his head and leans back in his chair, ready for the show.

Mina purrs your name again, smiling indulgently as she leans a little closer.

“Can I kiss you? Pretty please?”

You’re suddenly bashful, biting your lip. But you want this. You do.

“Sure. Okay.”

You release your lip from your teeth as Mina leans forward. Her lips are soft and so plush, and she’s a careful kisser. Out your right ear, you can hear Kirishima give a little sigh as he watches, and he rests a hand on each of your backs, rubbing soothingly.

“Come on,” Bakugou grunts as the two of you break apart. His chair scrapes harshly across the tile when he stands. “Get your asses to the living room before shit gets messy.”

Before you know it, you’re in a tangle of bare and sweaty limbs. You started out between Bakugou and Kirishima- the two boys you’re most familiar with. You’re stroking both of their hard cocks while they kiss each other, then you, then each other again. All the while, in the background, Mina, Sero, Denki and Jirou are stripping each other down, sprawling across the couch, letting a symphony of moans and sighs drift across the living room to your ears.

Before long, you’re pulled backwards into Denki’s lap as he fucks diligently up into you. Your pussy’s sloppy, slick from Mina’s tongue, and she’s perched right next to you, riding your boyfriend’s cock as the two of you let your hands drift.

You can see that Kirishima has a tight bond with all of these people. But you feel no jealousy towards them. If he can be so closely bonded with so many from his past, then why not you, too? Every time he catches your eye, no matter how many bodies there are between the two of you, he shoots you a loving little wink.

And at the end of the night, it’s you who’s going to be falling asleep beside him.

At some point, Bakugou pulls up a nearby chair, stroking himself while he watches the six of you drive each other to the edge, over and over and over again. By the time you’re all finished, you’re certain at least two dozen orgasms have passed between the lot of you.

And it shows. You’re exhausted.

After sharing such intimacy, you’re reluctant to break from one another. But inevitably you do, separating into your respective beds for the night. As you get ready for bed Kirishima’s full of energy.

“Holy shit, babe,” he raves, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a tight kiss. “That was so fucking hot. You did such a good job, god damn.” He cups your jaw between both his hands and pulls your gaze to his.

He looks down at you with the Milky Way lit up in his eyes, fathomless love all for you.

“You looked so perfect,” he confesses, kissing your forehead, “in the middle a’ all my friends like that.”

You fall into bed together, feeling sore and spent and very loved, and sleep better than you have in weeks.

The next morning, in a haze of woodsy dawn, everybody fights over what to make for breakfast.

#my hero academia #kinktober #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #bakusquad x reader #bakusquad #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha #jbbkinktober2020

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violet-knox · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Could u write an adult!Snape x reader where the reader is the new nurse of hogwarts and the start to like each other until one day they finally kiss?🙏😣💕 I hope u can write it, if not I understand ❤️

Love’s Chariot

Pairing: Severus Snape x Female Reader

Summary: You’re assigned to help Severus with the Mandarake Restorative Potion and feel nervous about how it will go.

Word Count: 3668

A chill ran down spine as you entered the dungeons, rather nervous about the task Madam Pomfrey had assigned you. You’d barely spoken two words to the Potion’s Master since you started at Hogwarts a month ago, feeling flushed every time he came within six feet of you. It was hard to say why you felt such intense fear around him. Intimidation, admiration, lust. But it didn’t matter. Knowing the reason didn’t change your reality and it certainly wasn’t going to help you now that you’d been assigned to assist him in the brewing of the Mandrake Restorative Draught.

You’d spent every hour of the last few days pondering over why you you’d been assigned such a task when you knew Professor Snape didn’t need you. He’d been doing quite fine these past few weeks on his own with the occasional help of Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey. There was no reason for you to be there and you wondered if he felt the same. He didn’t seem to like you much, at least that was the impression you got when you sat next to him at breakfast one morning. He’d stayed silent, his hair covering his face the entire hour before he got up to leave early, claiming he had to prepare for class. You’d never felt so awkward, so minute, so unimportant in your life. He was a golden chariot compared to you: a newcomer, blissfully oblivious to the hefty responsibilities of a Hogwarts staff member. There was no logical reason for your assignment, that was much clear. All you could do was try and get through it without looking like a buffoon.

You stared at the door before you, your legs frozen in place, too scared to enter his classroom, too loyal to walk away. You wanted nothing more than to run off, to simply continue admiring him from a far but you had duties to fulfill, patience to treat and so you stayed. You looked up at the rustic large door, the only boundary between you and the Master of the dungeon just as intimidating as him. Reluctantly, you knocked on the door. The sound you made barely audible to you but you hoped it was enough for him to hear because you couldn’t bear the thought of having to knock again as you weren’t sure you could knock any louder.

Seconds went by like hours and before long, you found yourself knocking again, slightly louder this time only to restart your delayed timer. Taking a step back, you tried to convince yourself that you’d done your part. You’d shown up, knocked on the door and he didn’t answer but that wasn’t the whole truth. You didn’t want him to hear you and so you tried to cheat your way out of making your presence known. One more try, you told yourself. Knock properly once and get it over with and so you did. Knock, knock, knoc-.

The door swung open and you found yourself caught stiff, like a deer in the headlights, staring into the face of the man you’d been too afraid to be around. You hadn’t been this close to him since you sat next to him during breakfast, every feature on his face more prominent than it was before. He was taller than you thought he was, the distance you’d been putting between you and him blurring your view of him.

“Have you been standing out here long?” His deep stern voice enchanted you, your mind blanking as you stared up at him. He sounded bored, like the task at hand was simple enough for a child to complete and his expression told you he too had not been looking forward to your lending hand.

“N-no,” you stumbled over your own lie as you shrunk in your place, hoping the floor would swallow you whole. You were made alarmingly aware of your flushed face and the fact that you’d been holding your breath when you spoke. This was worse than breakfast, worse than what you imagined. Much much worse.

“You should have knocked,” he said simply. His tone gave nothing away. You couldn’t tell how he felt, if he was annoyed, frustrated, angry or if he felt the same awkward spark that had ignited the day you laid eyes on one another, refusing to be put out no matter how hard you tried. The Potion’s Master turned on his heels and walked back into his classroom, leaving you to grasp at the overwhelming sense of uncertainty created between you both.

Stepping inside, you turned back and closed the door, the creaking of your slow movement echoing inside his classroom. It’s funny how a classroom changed so minimally yet felt so drastically different with the rotation of all the professors who’ve occupied it in the past. When Slughorn taught you in this class, you’d never felt the cold of the dungeon air. The layout of the room hadn’t changed, yet with Professor Snape it somehow felt more important, like his mere presence demanded those who step foot in the class show respect for the delicate art of potion making.

“I presume you’re aware of the duties you’re to attend to this evening,” he spoke as he set up his workstation around the giant cauldron bubbling in the middle of one of the tables. He was ready to begin working and apparently assumed you would be too.

“N-no Professor,” you said, stepping forward, addressing him professionally so as to not offend him further. You’d been here less than ten seconds and already you were disappointing him, you didn’t want to make it worse by speaking out of term. “Madam Pomfrey only informed me I’d be assisting you.”

Severus sighed in frustration. Not only was he force to spend time with you, to socialize with the person he’d felt too flustered to be around this past month, but Madam Pomfrey had also decided it was imperative for him to waste his time directing you when he should be working on the potion that was to save all those petrified victims filling up her infirmary. It had taken so long for those Mandrakes to grow, his focus these past few months split between stressing over whatever was causing the petrifications and modifying the Mandrake Restorative Draught to cure those who’d fallen victim. And then Dumbledore had to go and hire two more nurses to aid Madam Pomfrey during these ‘troubling times’ as he put it, and he suddenly found his focus shifting to you instead of his work.

You were so kind, so willing to help, always in uniform, ready to work even when you were off duty. He’d taken every excuse he could get just to watch you from afar. Refilling the Potions cupboard in the hospital wing himself twice every week, taking extra long to take inventory of what Potions they were running low on. He listened to you and hung on your every word, your smile in his peripheral instantly brightening up his day. Always from afar, always at a safe distance away from you where he could do you no harm. You were pure, innocent, untouched by the evils of this world and he couldn’t bear threatening to take that bliss away from you.

This was risky, brewing with you. He thought of requesting the other nurse when he heard you’d be joining him but he knew how hurt you’d feel to be passed over like that and, if he was to be honest with himself, he didn’t want the other nurse. He wanted you. He wanted to get to know you, to converse with you as you both worked together but he was afraid of what might happen if you did. Would you find him repulsive if he got too close? Would you ask to be transferred out if he dare speak a word of the curse that fell upon him? The one that pushed Lily away, ultimately killing her, the one that gifted him the negligent childhood he’d endured, the one that was responsible for his current status as an ex-Death Eater with no friends and a need to repent.

None of that mattered now. You were here and all he could do was hope this Potion would brew faster than expected so that he could resume keeping himself away from you. The quicker he gave you the instructions you needed, the less time you would be forced to spend with him and the safer you would be.

“Professor Sprout has left all the Mandrake roots here,” he began, pointing at the endless crates that sat on the table next to the one where he’d set up his cauldron. “And I need you to extract their cores so I can use the xylem for the potion.”

Severus watched as you immediately nodded your head and made your way to the cutting board and knife he’d set on the table for you to use. You picked up the knife and extracted one of the roots from the crates, looking back at him before you began. He pulled his gaze away from you the moment your head turned towards him, but you’d still managed to catch a glimpse of his face before his hair flew in front of it. Heat rose to your cheeks and you wondered if he’d truly been staring at you or if his intimidating presence had just gone to your head. You worried he was staring to make sure you wouldn’t mess up your task, but you hoped he’d glanced your way for another reason.

Holding the knife away from you, you began to peel the Mandrake root, each root taking longer than the last to peel but you continued on, letting the silence of the room engulf you. The longer you worked in his presence, the more you wished he’d say something but every time you’d look over in his direction, he would seem so concentrated and the last thing you wanted was to distract him from such important work. Still your eyes ventured to him more often than you’d like but you couldn’t help your admiration. His fingers so elegantly measuring out each ingredient like it was second nature and he looked so relaxed, so… perfect.

“It would be much easier if you simply chopped them.” You were so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t realized he’d walked over to you. You jumped back when you saw how close he was to you, dropping the root you had in your hand, gasping as you pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

The Professor took a step back, a mixture of disappointment and guilt written on his face. You giggled at how silly it was of you to be frightened by him. Afterall, you knew he’d been in the room with you, there was no reason for you to be taken back by him like that. “I didn’t hear you approach, you startled me. If you know of a more efficient way to extract the root, perhaps you could teach me.”

You offered him the knife in your hand, rather hoping he’d help make this entire tedious process a little faster. His hand reached up and you felt his fingers grazing your palm as he took the knife from you. Your heart leaped out of your chest as your eyes locked for what felt like a millennium. You’d heard many of the students speak rather harshly of their Potion’s Professor, many claiming his eyes were dead and cold, but you disagreed. They were sad yes, but they were warm. They held the weight of the world yet were inviting to those who knew where to look.

Severus broke the silence as he cleared his throat and looked back at the table to pick up the root that had fallen from your hand. He felt rather infatuated by you. He’d never felt like this before, so speechless, unable to think or speak in your presence. His mind was always blank, always vulnerable when he got too close to you, but it felt good, like a weight was lifted, like for once, he was allowed to breath.

“Just cut down the middle of the root like so,” Severus said as he kept his eyes on the Mandrake root, trying to pretend like you weren’t there, like he was just teaching a class rather than the one person he wanted to know more about, to grow close to. “Then simply peel away the outside.”

You watched as he extracted the core with ease, astounded by the fact it had taken no more than ten seconds when you’d spent ten minutes peeling away at just one root.

“Wow!” You exclaimed without realizing just how exaggerated your praise sounded. But you couldn’t help it, you were appreciative, happy to learn from someone as talented as he was. “That’s much quicker than what I was doing. Thanks, Professor.”

“Severus,” he quickly corrected you without a second thought. He hated hearing you speak to him as if you were just another coworker, like you saw him as nothing more than the school’s Potion’s Master, simply there to help keep the infirmary stocked with Potions. “Y-you can call me Severus.”

You smiled in content; he was comfortable with you. At least, comfortable enough to let you use his real name, his given name. All that fear you’d felt, the anxious feeling you had about working with him melted away, replaced with the need to know him, to speak with him, to touch him.

“Then you can call me (Y/N),” you reciprocated, holding out your hand for him to hand you back the knife. You held eye contact with him as you felt the handle of the knife slip into your palm, the tips of his fingers grazing against your skin once again. You gripped the knife when he let go but your eyes didn’t leave his until he reached around you to hand you another Mandrake root. He watched you duplicate his method; cutting the root down the middle and then peeling away the outside, popping the core out and placing it in the bowl he’d provided you.

“I’ve heard that you’ve sought to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts,” you spoke as you continued cutting when you felt him step back, wanting this moment to last. You spoke the first thing that came to mind, hoping the rumours you’d heard were true, hoping this topic was one he didn’t mind speaking about. “You’d make a much better Defense Professor than Lockhart.”

“Calling that man a Professor is an insult to the school,” Severus said as he went to grab a second knife to cut with you. “He’s a worse teacher than he was a student.”

“How do you know?” You asked curiously, wondering why he spoke as if he had first-hand experience with his time as a student. Lockhart was a few years younger than both of you, neither of you could possibly remember his Hogwarts days.

“I taught him.” Your jaw dropped and your attention was pulled back to him. You paused a moment before you spoke.

“No, you didn’t!” You dropped the knife in your hand and turned to face him completely, one hand over your mouth suppressing your laughter which instead came out as a giggle.

“I unfortunately did,” he smiled at you, abandoning the task at hand to share this moment with you. He watched as you laughed, and he could have sworn this was the happiest he’d ever seen you. You looked even more majestic with such a wide smile on your face and it made him appreciate you all the more.

“I cannot believe you taught that man,” you said, taking a step forward, placing a hand on his arm. You were too caught up in the moment to realize how close you’d gotten to him, that the musky smell filling the air around you didn’t belong to the potion but to him instead. “Did he learn nothing from you?”

Severus felt a heavy weight on his chest as he let his eyes roam the features of your face. What he’d give to hold you in his arms, hug you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you. Kiss you. Kiss you. Love you. He was very much infatuated with you, much more than he’d apparently cared to admit.

“It very much seems to be the case. If he hadn’t taken his O.W.Ls with Slughorn, I never would have accepted him into my N.E.W.T class in the first place. But as it so happened, Dumbledore said I could not raise the grade requirement unless the students had taken their O.W.Ls with me.”

You giggle, your admiration for the man ever growing as he spoke of his standards. “You know, I’ve worked in this industry a little over a decade and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Potions of such high quality like yours.”

Severus lowered his head, his smile static as he blushed from your compliment. He could hardly believe you’d thought of his work in such a way, that you’d worked at St. Mungo’s and still thought his Potions were better, that you’d given him enough attention to notice his work in the first place. He’d always imagined you saw him as the man who provided you with your tools and no more, he never would have thought you admired him.

You looked up at him and watched his face attentively. You loved how flushed he got from such a simple compliment and wondered what he would look like if he knew how you truly felt about him. It was odd how you tried to pretend like your feelings of admiration were strictly professional yet in this moment, standing in front of him, inches away, you knew it was more than that. Love, connection, happiness. That is what you felt and what you were sure he felt as well.

“I-umm,” Severus croaked over the empty words in his mind. He wanted to say something, to feel more comfortable with you again, but he found himself back in a place of awkwardness, too scared to say a word to you. He did not want to push you away, to ruin the progress he felt he made today and anything he could think of saying he knew would not end well.

You sensed his hesitation and wondered for a moment if you’d done something wrong, but when you looked back into his eyes, you realized it wasn’t anger or annoyance that kept him from speaking. He was nervous, like a schoolboy confronting his crush. You smiled and let out a sigh of relief, taking a step closer as you placed your hands on his arms, slowly moving them up to rest on his bicep. Your movement had caught his attention as his eyes met yours, need reflected within them. You were inches away, your beating hearts reaching out for one another, begging you to step closer.

Without a second thought, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his. You felt your heart leap out of your chest as you let out every emotion you felt for him into this kiss. You’d been so focused on yourself, you hadn’t noticed his lips weren’t moving with yours. Feeling rather embarrassed, you jolted back, averting your eyes in panic. What had you just done? Had you really just ruined any sort of professional relationship you could have had with him with a splurge in the moment kiss?

“I-I’m sorry,” you spoke quickly, your hands shaking as you feared for what he might do. Your career over if he were to complain to your superiors, have you transferred to a different department in the medical division of the Wizarding World, or worse, have you fired. No one would hire you again. No one would want you. “I didn’t mean-”

Your panicked thoughts were instantly washed away as his lips met yours once again, passion spilling over from him and back into you. You hummed from the shock in delight, throwing your arms around him as you pressed yourself into him, kissing him back eagerly as you indulge yourself in his touch.

Severus had taken a leap of faith, a step towards happiness, knowing now what he wanted and what you wished for was one in the same. He hadn’t imagined the emotions flowing between you, the spark growing into a flame this past month because you’d felt it too. By some miracle, you reciprocate his feelings, and he had no idea why but, in this moment, he didn’t care. He enjoyed the feeling of your body against his, his hands sliding down your sides, one making its way into your hair as the other kept you in place. He wanted to freeze time, to stay like this forever in bliss with you.

“That was…” You’d tried to speak when you parted, your lips still so close to his, but the words were lost on you like they were him. He wouldn’t dare take his eyes off you lest it break the spell. He took this moment instead to memorize your face, taking in every detail he’d never gotten to see before and when he’d found his heart beginning to ache, he pressed his lips back against yours like you were his oxygen.

You smiled against him, happily kissing back, thinking about your future with him, about the happiness you were going to build with him. You’d only spoken twice before, kissed him three times yet you were planning a whole life together in your imagination. This was right, he was right for you. It felt like everything had suddenly clicked into place. You weren’t meant to work at Hogwarts to help with the petrification, you were here to meet him. You were together now, whole, complete. You found each other in the sea of darkness that surrounded your lives and together you’d swim to shore. Together you would live. Together you’d be happy.

@dracos-mudblood @darkthought15 @severuslovebot @mitchiesdungeon @bush-viper-cutie @raven-hopeflyte @wanderingtrails @sleepysnapesnake @fluffymadamina

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