#anyway THIS CAUSED ME SO MUCH PAIN AND IM JUST GLAD I CAN RELEASE IT INTO THE WILD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

storytaeme · 6 years ago

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eau de résistance - yoonkook

Yoongi has an existential crisis after he devirginized an adorable freshman who also happens to be his fan. Safe to say, it’s a little hard to avoid falling for someone as cute as Jeongguk.

(alternative title: baby, f a love song, i need you to say it)

▸ Elements: Romance, Angst, Smut | College AU, Interns AU

▸ Word Count: 13,017 words

▸ A/N: After some major fuck ups on my end, I decided to just post this fic up here instead of ao3! Based on a thread I made a while back for yoonkook week :D title from stay frosty royal milk tea by fob just cause I can never title

Out of all the horrible mornings that Yoongi has been through (and that was a lot), this was perhaps the worst one of all. There was something about the crushing realization of a mistake that had his heart clawing against his chest, the undeniable permanence of a consequence that one had to accept in the wake of such a grand error, that made him want to fling himself out a window and backflip off a cliff into a pit of molten lava.

“Joon, I think I might have devirginized someone.”

“What the fuck?” Namjoon sputtered, milk dribbling down his chin and his lips quivering like an earthquake. Yoongi would’ve laughed and commemorated the sight with his phone if he weren’t so busy having an existential crisis that crumbled all he’s ever known about himself.

“I might have devi—”

Namjoon shook his head, “I heard you the first time around, I’m just not sure why you��re telling me this detail to your sexual life. Or why this ‘devirginizing’ is of any importance to my breakfast, which looks kinda gross now thanks to you.”

“You are aware of my rule.”

A snort slipped past the younger’s lips as he rolled his eyes and focused on spooning more cereal into his mouth. “Right, right, no virgins because apparently everyone will fall in love with your magic dick that can woo those who encounter it.” Sometimes he couldn’t believe Namjoon was an honor student with a perfect GPA when he made duck faces with puckered lips.

“Listen,” Yoongi hissed, jerking his index finger in his roommate’s direction, “you know it’s bad. You know.”

“I know how bad it was, but dude,” Namjoon gave him a look, “not everyone’s gonna think you’re whipped for them just because you deflowered their innocence and took away a piece of their soul and goodness from the path of Jesus Christ.”

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temple. “I don’t know why I bother talking to a preacher who lost his virginity to a sugar daddy at age eighteen. I forgot.”

“Shut the fuck up, do not judge me for my life decisions. I was doing it for investment in future endeavors, in other words, college.”

“You finished off that allowance in the first week by binging on vodka to celebrate your getting a sugar daddy!”

Namjoon glared at him because he clearly had made a solid argument. “That’s beside the point.” That was exactly the point. “Anyway, tell me more about this person. Do I know them? Are they hot? I don’t mind taking seconds if they’re solid in the sheets.”

“First of all, you’re fuckin’ gross,” Yoongi offered him a look of unadulterated disgust, which was how he perceived Namjoon most of the time anyway. “Second, he’s a freshman.”

“Oh so like you.”

“Undergraduate freshman.”

Namjoon let out a whistle and wiggled his eyebrows, sticking his tongue out lewdly, “You like those ones, don’t you, hyungie? Fresh face, wide-eyed, perky asses ready to shake.”

“Biggest eyes I’ve ever seen,” Yoongi muttered, his mind instantly whirring back to the night before. Which was an incredibly stupid idea because he was well on his way to a raging boner with the memory alone.

“So?” the younger shrugged, “you don’t see undergrads a lot. You’ll probably never see this kid again. Also, I thought you said you weren’t gonna fuck with undergrads this time around. Wild kids those ones. We’re getting too old for this.”

Despite the urge to argue that Namjoon was still, in fact, an undergrad, Yoongi took a deep breath and sighed, pursing his lips and glancing out the window. It’s well into the afternoon yet the sun looked absent, however he could still feel a warm tingling on his skin. It was unnerving. “He was different,” Yoongi murmured, knowing that Namjoon was already giving him a look.

“What? His dick sparkles or something?”

“Piss off,” Yoongi flicked crumbs in his direction, ignoring Namjoon’s calling him immature. “He was… cool. Like, really passionate about music and dance. It was cute seeing him ramble on about how excited he was about all this.”

“That’s nice, that all?”

“He’s also a huge fan,” Yoongi said quickly, hiding his face behind his coffee. So, maybe he had been a teensy bit assuaged by the fact that the kid knew his SoundCloud songs like a father does the Bible. Who didn’t like praises? Especially if it came from a very, very good-looking guy who just happened to be a fan, you know. It was all in the coincidence.

Namjoon snorted, “Pleasing your groupies I see.”

“Anyway,” he pressed, “thought it was okay, was cool. I was a little drunk ‘cause we met at some party then one thing led to another and we fucked.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s like progress.”

“No, not good. The kid was good—” Yoongi moaned absentmindedly. God, the thought of the guy’s thighs flexing and tensing every time he sank down on Yoongi, the kid taking the lead and fucking himself down and the filthiest words spilling from his lips while Yoongi could only whimper helplessly and follow along to whatever the boy had in store for him for the night (and it was a lot). It was good. It was fucking incredible that Yoongi figured—hey, this kid knew what he was doing, he was probably not a virgin.

Guess again.

Namjoon crinkled his nose at him. “Jesus, pull your head out of your ass. I can practically see the image in my head with your boner popping. I get it, he’s really good. So what’s the problem now?”

“He said thank you, Joon. Thank you. He cuddled me afterwards and thanked me.”

“Okay,” Namjoon stared at him quizzically.

“Nobody fuckin’ says thank you after a hookup.”

“You know, unlike you, there are people who have common courtesy even in their procreative endeavors.”

Yoongi glared at him, “Bitch, we gays can’t procreate, this is why you’re not in biology.”

“So he thanked you, what’s the big deal? He’s just nice is all.”

“Seemed too sentimental for me,” Yoongi huffed and threw a scathing look Namjoon’s way before the other could open his mouth to say something he would regret.

Namjoon chuckled, “Well, lucky for you, we have separate programs from undergrads. So, what are the chances that you’re going to see him again?”

Yoongi wanted to die.

If he thought that running into Jeongguk in the streets was the worst thing he could happen, he thought wrong. Dead wrong.

After a crummy morning with the exploding espresso machine courtesy of Namjoon and face-planting down the stairs in his hurry to leave his flat, the last thing he needed was another run of bad luck. However, obviously, the universe had it out for him. Because there he was in the studio he worked in, the studio he dedicated his time and heart into, standing face to face with none other than the kid who had given him the best dicking of the century, ten out of ten would do again. Worse—the kid also had a huge name tag hanging around his neck that clearly said INTERN in big, black, bold letters.

Yoongi didn’t fuck with virgins, and he especially didn’t fuck with coworkers.

Now he’s gone right ahead and done both.

“Are you following me?”

The kid looked alarmed for a second, eyes growing wider than he thought possible, pretty pink lips parting. Yoongi felt his cock twitch in his slacks, remembering how those exact same lips had been wrapped around his nipples. Shit.

“H-hyung,” Jeongguk cleared his throat, straightening awkwardly and even blushing. Fuck, he was cute. Too cute for his own good. “I—uh, no. You said that I could come check out the studio when we—” he paused, gaze flicking up from beneath his thick lashes to look at Yoongi “—we, you know. So I did and I applied to their internship program and I got in.”

Note to self: do not fucking drink. Ever. Again.

“Right, that’s cool,” Yoongi cleared his throat, hoping that the loud, nervous rumbling in his heart wasn’t obvious. “Intern, right. That’s cool.”

At his words, Jeongguk’s lips quirked up on the corners. It seemed that Yoongi’s nerves had cancelled out his. “You said that already.”

“Right, cool.”

Jeongguk giggled a little and Yoongi wanted to smack himself with a book. Preferably a very, very thick and hard one. “So guess I’ll be seeing you around, hyung. Supervisor wants me to reorganize the filing cabinets.”

“Ah, yes, intern work. I remember those days.”

“You make it sound as if you’re three times my age. Calm down, Grandpa,” Jeongguk smirked, “you know, if you’re free, I wouldn’t mind an extra hand to help.”

Yoongi’s mind might have traveled elsewhere with the suggestion, but he just huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, right. I’m way past those days, kid. Have fun, don’t get too many paper cuts.” With a cackle, he left a groaning Jeongguk to start chipping away at the mountains of folders in the record closet.

Tolerance was built as is the case with alcohol, patience towards idiots, and a numbness towards things that made his adrenaline levels spike. It was supposed to build. It was supposed to fester and grow and stop his heart from flipping all over the place whenever he caught sight of Jeongguk. The first few days, the intern looked like a deer in headlights whenever someone called his name. Yoongi hid his smile each time because the younger was cute. Jeongguk was hardworking and sweet, and so easily likable that everyone in the office quickly fell for his toothy grin and silly laugh. He was eager to please, always running here and there for errands. Sometimes, he would even give a cute little salute and a small ‘aye, aye’ before he got started on whatever task he was assigned to. It pissed Yoongi off that some of his colleagues were taking advantage of him that Yoongi might or might not have spilled blistering coffee on a few of them.

But Jeongguk didn’t seem to mind, seemed to like moving around and having things to do. Yoongi figured that it would be fine that they had gotten involved before. Sure, they crossed paths, but it wasn’t as if they were going to fall into step (or bed) together again anytime soon.

Interaction was fine. Yoongi could talk to him and ask him to do things around the office without wanting to get down on his knees and suck the younger off (most of the time, at least).

However, the tolerance just wasn’t there. It wasn’t enough.

It was during quiet hours in the studio that Yoongi realized how weak he truly was for the younger. Whenever Yoongi stayed overtime at the recording booth, he would find Jeongguk popping by to check on him from time to time. Even when he insisted that it was basically his bedtime, much to Jeongguk’s distaste, the younger would hover around and watch Yoongi work with the brightest eyes. When the elder asked him why he wanted to spend so long in the studio, he had just shrugged, “It’s cool watching you work. You know a lot and I want to learn from you.”

As if his ego and heart hadn’t been inflated enough, this just put the cherry on top of the cake. Jeongguk would bring him steaming mugs of coffee, done just the way he liked it with a sprinkle of sugar and a splash of milk. In his sleep-deprived state, he really couldn’t complain about any dose of caffeine. The younger would hover quietly behind him, watching his fingers move deftly at work over the sound system.

“Guk, you really shouldn’t be out so late,” Yoongi grumbled, giving the taller boy a light shove as they jogged down the steps of the studio. It was a little over one and Yoongi was making his way home at long last. Jeongguk had stuck around again, yawning this time as puffs of warm breath mingled in with the cold air outside.

“‘M fine, just a little tired,” Jeongguk mumbled cutely, bringing his fist up to rub at his eyes.

Yoongi’s heart twinged at the sight. He yanked off his own scarf and wrapped it around the younger’s neck. Jeongguk was decked out in nothing more than a flimsy sweater that could barely barricade him from the miserable winter temperature. There was no way he was going to make it back home alive in that getup. “You should learn to dress properly too,” Yoongi grunted under his breath, tightening the knot around the boy’s neck. “You’re going to catch hypothermia at this rate.”

“Mm, nope,” he giggled sleepily, “I’m basically a human heater. Feel me.” He stuck out his bare hands in Yoongi’s direction.

The elder glanced at them hesitantly and Jeongguk nudged them forward again, doe eyes practically begging him to touch them. Yoongi sighed, relenting and mimicking the gesture. His fingers slowly ran over the back of the boy’s hand, the pads of his fingertips smoothing over the delicate veins before wrapping around the hand altogether. He was right. He was warm.

However, with how hard his heart was beating in his ears, Yoongi wasn’t quite sure if that warmth was emanating from the boy across from him or if it rooted in some sort of unfamiliarity brewing in his veins. Nevertheless, he quickly pulled away and shoved his hands deep, deep into his pockets. Jeongguk’s eyes remained wide and curious, peering at Yoongi as if he was attempting to pry into his thoughts.

“Let’s head back, kid,” Yoongi grumblesd under his breath, opting to show interest in his shoes rather than the intrigued expression painted on the younger boy’s face.

With small talk and a struggle against the bitter cold, Yoongi walked Jeongguk to the same station and parted ways when Jeongguk hopped on a different line. Safe to say, he spent the train ride home trying to rid himself of the image of a certain someone’s soft features and, especially, his deliciously warm hands.

In spite of Yoongi’s constant insistence for Jeongguk to leave earlier, the kid still refused to listen—instead choosing to stay late nights at the studio, bearing gifts of sustenance to keep Yoongi (read: the living dead) alive. Most of the time, he ignored the other’s presence and focused solely on his work before him. All his life, his time had been dedicated to music and all its accompaniments, but the universe had added another his way.

Jeongguk was curious and inquisitive, but never impolite with his questions. He did his best to keep out of Yoongi’s way but it was difficult for the other man to ignore his existence when he was so… big.

Just between the two of you (you, the reader, and Yoongi), Jeongguk’s size was definitely something that caught Yoongi’s eye the first time around—and the second and the third.

“Guk, gonna say this again, but you should not stay this late,” the elder sighed, yanking off his headphones and letting them wrap around his neck loosely. Jeongguk is yawning on the couch, homework before him seeming to be filled with sleepy, barely legible scribbles. “You’ve got classes tomorrow and I heard Professor Taesuk isn’t the friendliest with people who fall asleep in class.”

Jeongguk let out a small whine, “But I don’t wanna go home yet. I can’t focus on homework at home. I do better work here.”

“But you need rest,” Yoongi pressed again, “you should’ve gotten this done earlier and maybe cut back some hours at the studio. You’re not even getting paid.” Jeongguk, as a starting intern, was basically offering his services for free—sacrificing time and effort to build a network of connections that might come in handy someday.

“I like watching you work, makes me feel like I gotta be productive too,” he grinned unapologetically with droopy eyes.

Yoongi’s lips thinned into a stubborn line. “Go home for tonight. Come on. I’ll walk with you to the station as always.”

It’s become a habit for the two to trudge together through the cold for the commute back home. It wasn’t the best of circumstances but Yoongi appreciated those moments of silence as the snow and gravel crunched underneath their boots. Other times, Jeongguk would hum a familiar tune, his honeyed voice carrying in the wind. The sound intermingled with the rhythmic beats of Yoongi's heart, intertwining to create a melody that had his soul warming in the frost.

“Hey, hyung,” Jeongguk started just as his train arrived at the platform. Yoongi looked up. “Thanks—” pause “—for everything. You’re even cooler than I thought you’d be and I just… I like hanging out with you. You're everything I expected and… more.”

The announcement of the train’s next stop rang loud and clear across the station, but the only thing echoing in his ears was Jeongguk’s sweet words. Even as the train rushed towards them, the rails rattling with the sheer force of it, Yoongi thought they could never compare with the thrumming in his veins and the bells ringing in his ears. Jeongguk’s cheeks were pink from the cold and perhaps from the confession. “Um, no problem. You’re not so bad yourself,” Yoongi cleared his throat, feeling his own face flame just a tad.

Yoongi didn’t quite know how to remove the sudden, strange fluttering in his stomach, the little flips and churns of his gut, nor did he know whether the thundering in his ears would last or whether it would fade as quickly as the snow melted away into spring.

As the seasons changed, Yoongi found himself more and more entranced by the boy. Jeongguk was always caught within his line of sight. Whatever he was doing, whether it was cleaning up desks for his colleagues or stumbling over his feet to get coffee for the head honcho, Yoongi would always spot him. He pitied the younger for having to work the laborious, tedious tasks that nobody else wanted to do—after all, Yoongi had to go through the same thing when he himself had been a starter.

But Jeongguk never once complained or whined, never once felt an ounce of bitterness even when Yoongi supplied him with the opportunity to let his frustrations out. Instead, he would beam and say that this was a step closer to his goal of success.

“Wait, you want to make music but you’re going into business?” Yoongi questioned, puzzled. His hands froze over his setup as he turned to give the younger a confused look. Jeongguk had only shown passion towards the artistry Yoongi and the studio created, always raving on about a track or a production. Although he had been mostly involved in administrative tasks rather than content creation, Jeongguk had never spoken so highly of the financial side of the business nor has he expressed interest.

Jeongguk shrugged and grinned, “My parents don’t trust me in music, but I do still need their support to go to college since my grades don’t really qualify me for a merit scholarship. But it’s fine! I was thinking of going more into music business? I think that would be pretty dope, but I like singing and learning to produce too.” A pause ensued and the two sat in silence as Yoongi chewed on his words. Before he could respond, Jeongguk continued—this time with pink coloring his cheeks, “And that’s why I’m really grateful to you, hyung. You’re really cool and I’m learning so much from you.”

And Yoongi—in typical Yoongi fashion—opted for a response that allowed him to turn away and mask his embarrassment. Jeongguk had no problem exposing his admiration for the elder, but Yoongi struggled to control his heartbeat and preventing his death from utter elation.

A small giggle behind him indicated that the tactic hadn’t worked very well after all. And somehow, a part of him didn’t mind that in the least.

It had become a custom for him to slide on his headphones and slip into a zone of focus that barricaded him from the entirety of the outside realm. He existed for hours entirely for his music and the vibrations that pulsed through his ears. Every blemish in the song he cleared with his bare hands and instruments. By the time he was a teensy bit satisfied with his progress, the haze in his reality would clear. Pulling off his headphones, he turned to check on Jeongguk. “Hey, kid—”

And the sight that greeted him was both heart-stopping and endearing. His headphones clattered to the ground and he cursed at himself, quickly picking them up before whipping his gaze to the younger boy to see whether the noise had affected him. However, aside from a small whimper that had Yoongi’s heart squeezing, he was still sound asleep.

“Unbelievable,” the elder muttered, though he couldn’t keep the subtle smile off his face. Lifting himself off the chair, Yoongi did his best to pad quietly to where the boy lied. His face of slumber ever so serene—gone was the mischievousness and blinding smile, leaving a tired angel at rest in its wake.

Yoongi crouched down, ready to shake Jeongguk awake to send him home for the day. However, as he raised his hand, he found himself halting. His keen eyes observed the way his soft bangs fell against his face, how Jeongguk would scrunch up his nose unconsciously every time it tickled his skin. Smiling, the elder instead moved to brush his hair away from his face, gently stroking his temple. Jeongguk’s face melted into one of ease, a smile making its way upon his lips.

The moment seemed to have pulled the brakes on time—the entire world moving in slow motion, from the gentle rise and falls of Jeongguk’s chest, to the way Yoongi’s digits sifted through the younger’s silky strands, and how the boy’s eyelids fluttered open drowsily. Jeongguk blinked slowly, gradually gaining consciousness as reality dawned upon him once more.

Yoongi’s breath hitched in his throat, catching in surprise. On the other hand, the other man seemed to have done the same—his eyes widened, awestruck at the moment. For a while, the two made no moves—staying stiff and still to keep the tensely fragile air steady. It was as if one shift of muscle could’ve shattered the entire moment into shards. But it was proving difficult to breathe and Yoongi wasn’t sure if this was good for either of them, but he didn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to move.

He should’ve pulled away, should’ve coughed or done something to tear away from the intensity of the second. But he didn’t. He was a coward and he liked Jeongguk and he didn’t think that he would ever get a second chance at this opportunity—to stare and observe this beautiful human being too good and too untouched by this world.

However, the other had other things in mind as he scooted forward on the couch. Their faces were a few mere inches from each other. Yoongi could feel the warmth of their breaths mingling in the air. “Hyung,” Jeongguk whispered, slicing gently through the silence. He drifted closer and closer, his eyes falling shut once again. Yoongi prayed and hoped that he had just fallen asleep, but the quick skip in his breath indicated otherwise as his lips finally pressed against the elder’s.

And it was as if time had truly stopped—the entire world freezing on its axis, unmoving and the earth had stopped revolving around the sun and the moon pausing its rotation.

Yoongi was still positioned awkwardly, but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t deny the familiarity of Jeongguk’s lips, how wonderful they felt, how soft they were, how long he had been waiting for this exact moment.

Jeongguk parted his lips cautiously, gauging the other man’s response to his action. There were alarms blaring in Yoongi’s mind, warning him that this was the point of no return—if he crossed this line, there was no going back. No going back to being coworkers sharing amused looks across the halls, no friendly, quiet nights in the studio.

For once, Yoongi didn’t listen to his head.

He kissed Jeongguk back with as much fervor as the younger gave. Their lips melted together as if they were meant to fit perfectly, like clay around its mold. Yoongi barely registered Jeongguk’s sharp intake of breath before he slowly crawled above the other boy, straddling his hips as he leaned down to join their lips again. His heart burned with flames that licked up his skin, his hands beginning their journey to explore the wide expanse of Jeongguk’s body. He swallowed every whine, every little, delicious whimper that slipped past the younger’s addicting lips.

Jeongguk responded to his every touch, every stroke of finger underneath his shirt and down the outline of his stomach. He canted his hips up to meet Yoongi’s, moaned as he relished in the sensations of Yoongi’s fingers digging into his scalp and tugging his head back. With his neck exposed, the elder dipped his face to taste his neck, sucking slowly at first before adding the graze of his teeth to the mixture. Jeongguk released soft pants, choked breaths as Yoongi lapped at the marked skin—the golden glistening with a bit of moisture and blooming with prints he had left behind.

It was satisfying to see Jeongguk come undone underneath his fingertips. It seemed that, whatever Yoongi did, the younger would respond so promptly, so violently that it fueled this sudden, carnal desire within him. He memorized every little noise, every twitch of the boy’s fingers.

Before long, shirts were strewn across the floor, abandoned without a second glance. Yoongi’s pale fingers traced pretty circles on the boy’s abdomen, dancing gently along the surface to elicit shivers from the younger who caught the digits and nipped at them teasingly. “Didn’t know you really liked my abs, hyung,” he giggled.

Yoongi rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, “Cocky shit. You know you look good.”

“I do,” he beamed and then softened, “but it still feels good to hear it from you than anyone else.”

His words pricked at the elder’s supposedly colder heart, chipped away at the ice. Yoongi recognized the tone—that sound of adoration and admiration—and that was a dangerous tone for the game they are trying to play. And Yoongi made his next mistake by once again choosing to ignore the second glaring sign that this was wrong, that there was a better path.

“Hyung?” Jeongguk questioned, peering up at him with those pretty, bright eyes. Yoongi had written them—those pretty, bright eyes—into his lyrics, into one of his ballads that sounded much too soft to be included in his mixtape. It was the kind of song he would tuck away as a memory piece for a nostalgic day.

“Less talking, baby,” he grunted instead, touching their lips in the middle as his fingers fumbled with Jeongguk’s buckle.

Their pants soon joined other articles of clothing on the floor, leaving them bare in the coziness of the tiny studio. The only sounds bouncing off the soundproof walls were Jeongguk’s labored breaths and the shuffling of skin against the fabric of the couch. Yoongi kissed along his jaw—that pretty, sharp jaw—and down his neck, over the bruises, and down the column of his pretty throat. Everything about Jeongguk screamed perfection and that voice inside of Yoongi was in turn commanding him to take a piece of it, to have a taste of the crème de la crème.

And who was Yoongi to deny his inner voice? He bit and nibbled, loving the way the canvas of the younger’s body blossomed before him with his imprints. He made his way down, running his tongue along the lines of his toned body, dipping it into the dimples of his waist.

Yoongi licked his lips when he reached his final destination. Jeongguk’s length curved thick and proud against his stomach, a tantalizing sight from a tantalizing man. It would be a lie to say that his mouth didn’t water at the sight. Jeongguk exuded everything sex embodied in that very moment and Yoongi was a mere mortal falling into the temptations created by the hands of sin.

“Hyung, f-fuck, please,” he whimpered, fingers absentmindedly tangling in the elder’s silky locks to tug him closer. “Can you—would you—”

Never in his life had he seen Jeongguk so distraught. Even their first night together, the younger had been so composed, had left the other man instead a stuttering mess. But this time, the tables had turned and Yoongi was going to milk this as much as he could.

Grinning, he thumbed the slit of Jeongguk’s pulsing cock, “What do you want, Jeonggukie? Tell hyung what you want.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk flushed again, pretty pink lips parting in a gasp as he jerked his hips up slightly to get any form of friction from the elder’s hand.

“You have to tell me, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi muttered and gave his length a quick squeeze, just enough to have him squirming uncomfortably.

“M’want—I just want your mouth—” Jeongguk’s breath hitched in his throat as Yoongi gave a tentative lick, tongue barely grazing the head. A long expletive left the other’s mouth and the elder chuckled. “Come on, hyung, you can’t do this to me. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts so much. Want your mouth—nothing else, p-please. I want your mouth on me, hyung.”

With every breathless, hiccuped plea, Jeongguk proved to only urge Yoongi to tease him even more. His fingers danced along the length, his fingertips brushing along the riverlike veins, and his mouth puffed out warm air against the already sensitive skin. His pale digits toyed with his cock and wrapped and tightened around it, stroking ever so lightly. “Keep begging, kid, maybe you’ll get there.”

“You’re so mean—hnnng,” Jeongguk whined, “s-so mean, after I rode you so well last time.”

Yoongi laughed, “Rode me once and think you’re hot shit already? That how you should be treating your elders?”

The younger pouted, eyes clouded over with misty lust. “You’re not that much older, Grandpa.”

“Keep that up and I’ll think you have a grandpa kink or somethin’,” he jokingly jeered.

“I can feel my boner dying at this very second,” Jeongguk noted with a pointed glare at both Yoongi and his pained dick.

His lips curved into an amused grin. The kid could be a brat after all. He supposed Jeongguk had always gotten what he wanted, always was some sort of superman with how well he did everything he did. Now that Yoongi had the ball in his court, it was almost hilarious how conflicted Jeongguk looked when he had to sacrifice his pride to beg for more from the elder. “We can’t have that now, can we?” Yoongi grinned, finally dipping his head and showing some mercy towards the younger.

He mouthed along the cock and the heat of his lips seemed to be more than enough to drive the younger right out of his mind. His tongue dragged along the length and swirled around the head. Jeongguk was throbbing, his entire body clenching and relaxing according to Yoongi’s gestures. His moans filled the empty room as he relished in the sensations of the other’s ministrations.

“Look at you all pretty for me, Jeonggukie,” he murmured, teeth scraping gently along his cock. “I’ve never seen a prettier baby than you. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you, hm? Do you like this? Do you like hyung’s mouth on you?”

The words that tumbled from the elder’s throat had Jeongguk’s blood rushing through his veins, heartbeat thundering in his ears as he could feel waves of pleasure and tension crashing over him. “Y-yes, love it so much, hyung. Your mouth—fuck, mmm, feels s’good—you’re so—ahh, oh—please, please. It feels so good, hyung.”

“Good, pretty baby,” Yoongi cooed, placing his cock back into his mouth and sucking it deep. He bobbed his head to take in as much as he could of Jeongguk’s thick length inside of him. The younger’s body was shuddering with thrill as he twisted his fingers harder into Yoongi’s hair.

Yoongi couldn’t help himself, loved the way Jeongguk kept pulling at his hair. His desperation was palpable and crackling through the air. He groaned into the cock in his mouth, vibrations immediately carrying through Jeongguk’s entire being. His fingers played with his balls, clasping them tightly, and covered what his mouth couldn’t.

There was something so satisfying about the weight of Jeongguk’s dick in his mouth. A satisfying feeling of fullness as he licked and lapped at the length. The cock glistened with moisture underneath the studio lights and Jeongguk looked so pretty, all frenzied and short of breath. He would look even prettier if he were spread—

“Hyung, want you,” Jeongguk moaned, this time his hands halting Yoongi’s movement and pulling him away. “God, I want you inside me. P-please, miss the feel of your cock filling me up.”

Yoongi licked his lips. Fuck, this kid really was something else. For once (or maybe the second time) in his life, Yoongi was going to voluntarily break one of his rules. At least this time he knew Jeongguk was definitely no longer a virgin. “What do you want, Jeongguk-ah? Did you say you missed me? You liked my cock that much?”

Jeongguk voiced his complaint as he, with trembling fingers, pushed himself up and around, flipping over so his ass was in full view for Yoongi. And what a fucking fantastic ass it was. The younger's hands splayed out across the cheeks and pulled them apart. His puckered hole was beckoning Yoongi closer, begging him to stick his tongue in it until Jeongguk was a writhing mess or shove his cock in there to fill him up.

“God, you’re fuckin’ pretty, kid,” Yoongi grunted, dancing his fingers lightly along the smooth skin of his cheeks. The other twitched in response, nudging himself backwards to encourage him. “S’cute, what do you want?”

“Y-your cock,” Jeongguk whined almost pitifully. Need leaked into his tone, his breathlessness a clear indication of his strong urge for more. “Please, hyung, want your cock in me. Want you to fuck me stupid,” he moaned, pushing himself back again to press his bare ass against Yoongi’s front.

The friction had Yoongi biting back a groan. Those plump mounds would look so pretty swallowing up his length. “Let me prep you first.”

“No need,” he gasped, “M’loose—loose enough anyway. Fucked myself earlier.”

“Earlier?”

Jeongguk was growing more restless by the second, and he certainly seemed far from accommodating to Yoongi’s inquisition. “T-the bathroom, lunchtime. Just needed to get off. Kept thinking of you in your studio—fuck, you look so hot.”

His confession would make a priest blush and Yoongi’s mouth watered at the thought of Jeongguk shoving himself up against the wall of a tiny bathroom stall in the office, fingers buried deep and curling inside of him until his knees buckled. God, what a fuckin’ concept.

“So naughty, Jeonggukie,” Yoongi breathed, hand pressing down to give his ass a good squeeze. “Do you do that a lot? Fuck yourself in the office?”

“Hnng, n-no, not really—maybe, I don’t know—God, I can’t think right now,” Jeongguk choked and squirmed in agitation.

“Should give you a toy to stuff your ass next time, keep that in the entire day hm,” the elder was musing aloud, thinking about how a fantastic idea that would be. That seemed to only add fuel to the fire as Jeongguk released a deep, throaty sound to signal his pleasure.

Jeongguk whimpered, “Y-yeah, that would be good. Want a cock shoved up in me—maybe a dildo. Got a nice one at home.” He was rambling at that point and Yoongi took that opportunity to roll on a condom and slick it up with lube. Despite his distracted state with his wild imagination, Jeongguk’s words died in his throat the second the sloppy sounds of Yoongi stroking his wet cock resonated in the room. “Shit, oh my—fuck, hyung, please. I want you now. Want you to fuck me hard.”

Yoongi himself couldn’t wait any longer and wrapped a hand around his member to guide it towards Jeongguk’s hole. He traced the tip along the rim again and again, grazing over it teasingly. It was driving the younger insane because all he wanted was to be stuffed full of cock, craved that satisfying feeling of being completely and utterly fucked.

“Alright, you ready, Guk?”

The younger tossed a glare over his shoulder. “I’ve been ready for two hours now.”

“Sure it’s not the entire day? Heard someone fucked themselves in a public bathroom earlier.”

“Ha, you’re hilarious—” The drawl was dropped the second Yoongi squeezed himself into the tight tunnel. Jeongguk let out a long groan as his cock twitched in front of him. He could feel his entire body tensing to the familiar sensation of being filled up. “Fuck,” he moaned, “feels s’good. Shit, hyung, so good. Fuck me, please please please.”

Yoongi nodded and eased himself in and out slowly, almost torturously. He was doing his best to avoid hurting the boy but the pace he was setting seemed to only pain Jeongguk more. The man was pushing himself back to meet Yoongi’s tormenting rhythm.

“Goddamn, hyung, fuck me faster. I can’t feel shit right now,” Jeongguk protested childishly, his words complemented by a deep pout.

He almost forgot how bratty Jeongguk could be. This was why, that first time, he couldn’t believe that Jeongguk was a virgin. He seemed to know how to egg the elder on, how to provoke him to do his worst, which was exactly what he wanted. Yoongi did as he was asked and snapped his hips forward—hard. The entirety of his cock slipped inside the hole and, considering he wasn’t particularly big, was able to hit him balls deep.

“Shit, fuck, right there,” the man underneath him hiccuped, grinding his ass back against Yoongi. “Just like that. Harder. Faster.”

Yoongi followed suit and swung forward again. He pulled out his cock halfway, enough to have Jeongguk feeling empty and pissed when Yoongi stayed that way for far too long. Just as the younger was about to let another complain spill, Yoongi thrust back into him deep and started fucking into him at a speed that rendered the boy senseless. He was trembling all over, muscles tensing and relaxing in alternating motions.

The usual silence in the studio was quickly replaced by the sound of the younger’s pleasured voice and the sound of skin against skin. There was something hypnotizing and sexy about fucking in an empty studio, about knowing how he had colleagues and, if any of them were to work overtime, might be fortunate enough to catch them red-handed. Or, in Jeongguk’s case, bent over and fucked by the mysterious and private part-time producer, Min Yoongi.

“R-right there—oh man, fuck yes—aaah,” Jeongguk whined, squeezing his eyes shut as he let his entire body be consumed by the sheer wonder of Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi was enjoying himself as well, fucking into the boy and relishing Jeongguk’s sounds—a clear telltale that his body and sensations were bathing in gratification. “G-god, you’re so good at this. Fuckin’ me so good, hyung. Such a great cock, missed it a lot,” he grinned over his shoulder.

What a sight the kid was. Ass full of cock, hair matted against his forehead, and that gorgeous, confident smirk spread across his face. He was the personification of lust in that very moment and Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to argue otherwise considering he was taking pleasure in the very definition of sex in human form.

“You touching yourself, Guk?” Yoongi asked, chest heaving.

“N-no, do you want me to?” He sounded so small. Fuck, that was hot. Being shorter in stature himself, Yoongi thrived on the ability to make others bigger than him feel much smaller than him. It was a kink, sure. It was a particular kink when it came to Jeongguk who was fit and ripped and whose presence screamed loud.

“Do it, stroke yourself, baby,” he cooed, sliding in and out faster and harder. The corresponding noises were lewd and messy, just the way Yoongi liked it. The lube made it much too easy for him to fuck into Jeongguk, liquid dribbling down the boy’s thighs every time Yoongi pushed inside him.

Jeongguk was obedient, doing as he was told and reaching his hand down to touch himself. His cock was rock hard and pulsing painfully. He nearly cried with relief and hurt when he began to run his fingers along the tough length. “F-fuck, feels so good—goddammit,” he cursed.

Every time Yoongi pushed forward, Jeongguk would lurch along with the motion and fuck into his own hand. Each stroke of friction sent liquid fire shooting through his veins, the heat spreading quickly throughout his body.

In spite of his lack of experience with Jeongguk, the way the man was trembling was an indicator that he was close. So close. The stuttered breaths and expletives leaving his mouth were also more than enough to indicate the same. “Shit, shit, fuck—so good, gonna—oh fuck, waited so long for this. Hyung’s cock—fuck, so good. Wanna come, wanna fuckin’ come all over so badly. Please.”

“That so, Jeonggukie? You wanna be a messy baby?” Yoongi goaded, grinning to himself proudly when the younger shuddered with his words. “You like being made a mess, huh? Like being a little slut getting fucked open in a studio like this. Do you like being messy, baby?”

“Mmm, yes, hyung, l-love it. I wanna be a mess just for you—your mess,” Jeongguk hummed, ass fucking back so Yoongi would be pushing into him harder.

“You going to come all over yourself, baby? Are you going to come for hyung?”

Jeongguk nodded eagerly, his entire body shaking, “Y-yes, please please, can I, hyung? Can I come please?”

“Think you’ve been a good boy for me, baby?”

“Yes, yes! I’ve been so good, hyungie. Been so good to you,” Jeongguk pleaded desperately, voice growing more frantic. His words were slurring together and his tone begging.

“You’ve been so messy though, I don’t know if I like messy—”

“I’ll clean up! Please, I’ll be clean. I’ll clean up from now on.” At this point, the younger was saying anything to gain his orgasm. His hand was still tugging on his cock. The tip was throbbing, red coloring almost blue. He needed the release and Yoongi wasn’t as heartless as he himself believed.

With a feigned deep sigh, one that had Jeongguk’s stomach falling, Yoongi pursed his lips. “I mean—”

The forced disappointment in his tone was enough to have the younger pleading again. “P-please, hyung. Oh fuck, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good to you, I promise. Just want your cock, nothing else. Make me your messy baby. I’ll be messy, I’ll be clean, whatever you want.”

There was a niggling feeling nagging at the back of Yoongi’s mind that Jeongguk’s words were treading on dangerous waters, one involving attachment that Yoongi wasn’t sure he wanted to venture into just yet. So he let the boy have exactly what he needed. “Okay, Jeonggukie, you can come. Go on, come for me. Show me how much you have inside of you, how messy you can be.”

Jeongguk’s lips part with his words, breath knotting in his throat as he allowed himself to let go. As Yoongi continued to jerk his hips into him, Jeongguk reached that sweet peak and spilled into his hand. White, sticky come coated his fingers quickly, dripping onto the couch and staining it with ivory. He was messy for sure and Yoongi would be lying if he said that didn’t turn him on.

He could feel his own climax chasing after him, clawing at his skin and begging to be released. “Fuck, t-that’s hot,” Yoongi groaned, “M’gonna come soon.”

The younger, ever breathless, was still tingling from his orgasm and quaking from the force of it, paused Yoongi’s movement. “W-wait, want you to come on my face. Please. Want your come on my face.”

Goddammit.

Yoongi was going to fucking burst with his words alone. He wasn’t a teenager but his limits seemed to have been tested with Jeongguk. “You sure? Your face?”

“Y-yeah,” Jeongguk breathed, quickly scrambling to lie on his back. He gestured for Yoongi to climb on top of him and the other did so, throwing his legs on either side of the man and hovered his cock over Jeongguk’s face.

As if to make things worse (or better), Jeongguk let his eyes slide shut as his jaw fell to pop his mouth open. His tongue stuck out, waiting patiently for the sweet nectar building up inside of Yoongi. “Fuck,” he groaned, yanking on his cock faster and squeezing harder, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this. Your ass is pretty, your face is pretty. Would look even prettier covered in my come.”

Jeongguk murmured his agreement and kept his mouth open, tongue hanging out and anticipating. It certainly didn’t take him very long to spiral down into temptation. His come soon streaked across Jeongguk’s face, splattering abstract lines across the boy’s beautiful face like a blank canvas painted over in a masterpiece. Jeongguk kept his mouth open, Yoongi’s come landing sweetly on his tastebuds. The white garnished the boy’s face prettily. The sight only impelled Yoongi on even more and he milked his cock as much as he could to get all of his pleasure out and onto the boy’s features.

It truly was something else to see Jeongguk when he was completely sober and coming down from his high. His beauty was unrivaled and Yoongi couldn’t deny how fucking gorgeous he looked with Yoongi’s come all over his face. Jeongguk closed his mouth and swallowed the liquid that had ended up on his tongue, throat moving with the action.

God, he was fucking beautiful.

However, the guilt for making a whole mess took over quickly and he reached for tissues to offer the younger. Jeongguk took it with a nearly inaudible thanks and began to wipe himself down. Yoongi, unsure of what to do, leaned back against the couch in full, naked glory. There was no denying how satisfied he was, the adrenaline dissipating from his veins as fast as it came.

Jeongguk was next to him, drying himself up and removing the mess from his face.

The silence that ensued was deafening. It was as if a contraption had taken hold of the air and squeezed all the oxygen out of it. Gone was the intensity of the atmosphere, leaving an awkward aftertaste. Yoongi cleared his throat, Jeongguk didn’t look like he was breathing. The two sat side by side and Yoongi couldn’t think of a time more awkward than this, not even the time he caught his roommate jerking to Elton John in tears.

Yoongi licked his lips and made the first move, reaching for his crumpled shirt on the floor to slip it on. Jeongguk fumbled to do the same, fingers seeming to tremble with the force of nature. The two got dressed in the utter quietness, neither one of them saying a word to ease the tension weighing heavy in the room.

As the elder shifted over to clean up his music notes and tidy up his studio, Jeongguk took note and packed up his work, shoving everything into his backpack distractedly.

“So, you heading back?” Yoongi coughed, prompting the younger to jerk up and whirl around. He swung around so fast, the elder worried that he might’ve gotten whiplash.

Jeongguk pinked, gaze finding the mirror and trailing down his neck where Yoongi had left his mark. His eyes danced with something akin to hunger. His glance flicked back up to meet Yoongi’s. Instead of addressing how Yoongi had basically mauled the other man over, Jeongguk only cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

“Cool—” Cool? That’s the best you could do, Min? “Let’s walk over to the station then.” Even if Yoongi hated painstakingly awkward situations, the last thing he wanted was for Jeongguk to risk his life at ass o’clock because he got some dick from a fool like him.

There was a pause in which Jeongguk tilted his head, eyes widening ever so slightly, as a small smile painted itself on his face. “Okay,” he spoke softly, voice quiet in the thundering of Yoongi’s heartbeat.

The walk to the station felt longer than it usually did. The space between them growing by the second. Jeongguk’s long legs took him a step further than Yoongi each time, but he always slowed down and adjusted according to how Yoongi moved. They fell into step together and, although Yoongi appreciated the gesture, appreciated Jeongguk, there was a strange bubbling in his stomach that had the hairs on his skin rising.

He had a good time with Jeongguk, sure. But what about the aftermath? This wasn’t supposed to happen again. He already had his qualms with the idea of fucking Jeongguk the first time around, and he was foolish enough to do it a second time. Instead of resolving whatever past issues he had with Jeongguk and his emotions, he ended up caught in a tighter struggle in these tangling vines. Instead of finding answers, he was left with more questions and doubts that had his stomach churning uncomfortably.

Yoongi was a man of certainty. He was certain of his aspirations, certain of his preferences, but Jeongguk had stained a grey area in his black and white.

“Well, this is me,” Jeongguk stated slowly as his train arrived at the platform. Yoongi looked up, pressing his lips together and glancing at the moving machine to avoid Jeongguk’s eyes.

“Get home safe, Jeongguk,” he breathed finally just as the doors opened.

When he finally met the younger’s eyes, it seemed as if he had more to say. His eyes had always been so big and expressive—windows to the soul as people say. However, after a moment of searching Yoongi’s, he managed a small smile, shaking his head to himself with thoughts Yoongi wasn’t privy to. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung.”

With one last salute, he was climbing aboard with the doors closing behind him. Yoongi was left in the sudden silence, the rattling of the rails absent to grant room for his pervasive anxiousness.

He didn’t quite know what to do. But one thing was for sure—he was screwed.

The thing with Yoongi was that he never reacted well to news that rocked his boat. His nerves had the tendency of leaping from one end to another, zapping and frying his entire brain and rational thinking.

This time was no different. The entire ride home, through the loud, metallic screeching of the tracks, and as even as he made his way up to his apartment and lied down on his bed, the image of Jeongguk’s face—all of them, a series of images—flashed through his mind. The boy’s expressions morphing from one emotion to the next—the happiness shining through his hazel eyes, his desire reflected in the parting of his lips and the creases of his temple, and what seemed to be understanding painted on the softness of the curl of his lips.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how he could possibly face him and pretend as if everything could go back to normal again. He had painted his face in come, had let filthy words tumble from his lips, had let his pale fingers bruise the younger’s skin, and had stuffed his cock inside of him.

Twice.

There were a lot of things that Yoongi failed to not regret in life, this was just another strike on the list.

Returning to work on lack of sleep was something he was used to. However, returning to work on lack of sleep and with the most excruciatingly conflicting emotions plaguing his every thought was the worst. Even the blackest of coffees could not save him from this misery.

As if to make matters worse, the second he stepped into the studio, he spotted Jeongguk coming down the hallway with a pile of files stacked up to the top of his head. Yoongi did what he did best—run. He quickly slipped into another room and waited until he heard Jeongguk’s footsteps walk past and fade away.

“What a coincidence to see you here.” The voice that chirped from his side had him jerking back to reality, heart rate picking up in panic. Yoongi whirled around to see Hoseok smirking at him. “Missed me that much?”

“You’re hilarious,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, creaking the door open again to glimpse into the hallway.

Hoseok leaned against the soundboard, tilting his head curiously. Having been so caught up with his work and with Jeongguk, Yoongi hadn’t really had the time to spare for a few of his friends—or ex-hookups, namely Jung Hoseok. The two had met in college, ended up in the same company for an internship and, well, had previously fucked. Once—or maybe thrice. This was before they landed the same jobs and Yoongi had to cut off the hooking up because work took over his life. Hoseok had taken it in stride has he did a lot of things. It wasn’t as if he was at a shortage of men lining up to please him.

Though, even Hoseok wouldn’t be able to deny that Yoongi held a soft spot in his heart. And his pants.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, why do you look like you’re hiding?” Hoseok asked, curiosity piqued before Yoongi could mask his expression with disinterest.

The elder of the two cleared his throat, “Just, you know, the boss.”

“Boss is out for the week, you know this. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi pinched his lips, “anyway, I should get going—”

“You know,” Hoseok started, halting Yoongi’s steps, “if you wanted to see me so badly, you should’ve just asked. You have my number, Yoongi.”

The other man snapped a glare his way. “That is not why I came in here.”

“So why did you?”

“Just—” How did he manage to dig this deep of a hole himself? “—wanted to check out the equipment, I heard you got some new stuff from tech.”

“Nothing you don’t have, Mr. Perfectionist. Your setup is complete and flawless. Do you wanna keep lying so I can keep prying?” Hoseok grinned, knowing full well that he had won this battle. “Or—” he tapped his lip thoughtfully, drawing Yoongi’s gaze to the pretty pink “—did you want to see me for something else?”

Yoongi’s muddled brain took some time to process the statement and it must’ve given Hoseok the wrong idea as he stepped closer and closer until he had Yoongi caged against the wall. “W-wait, what are you doing?”

“You have my number, hyung,” Hoseok beamed again, that blinding, charming smile dancing mischievously on his face.

“Christ, you’re unbelievable,” Yoongi huffed and the other man only laughed as he took a step back. “I’m leaving now. Don’t try anything else.”

“My doors and pants are always open for you, hyung,” he sang just before the door slammed in his face. Yoongi already had one mess to deal with, he most definitely did not need another to add into the equation.

Avoiding Jeongguk throughout the day turned out to be more troublesome than he thought. He didn’t realize how much he saw the boy around the workplace until he actively tried not to. When he locked himself up in the studio, he couldn’t help but be grateful that he had a ‘do not disturb’ function on his door that kept outsiders away. Including Jeongguk.

(Yoongi was pretty bummed that he didn’t get to hear Jeongguk’s pleasant “good morning, hyung” with that crinkly-eyed, teethy smile—but he would take this to the grave)

When work time was over, Yoongi usually escaped with either:

leaving before the sun even set and taking his work home (not preferred as he hated leaving with unfinished tasks)

pretending that he couldn’t hear the light knocking on the door or the pacing which was sure to be Jeongguk outside his room (this was miserable but easier)

Over the course of the week, he tried all sorts of avoidance tactics. He wasn’t quite sure why—that was a lie, he knew precisely why. Yoongi didn’t think he was ready to face the consequences of his actions, including Jeongguk—sweet, sweet Jeongguk who had been nothing but kind to him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like the kid. Of course, he liked him to a certain degree. Yoongi just wasn’t sure how he felt about this entire thing and he would rather postpone The Talk for as long as possible rather than dealing with it.

Don’t try this at home, kids.

Eventually, these things came back to bite him in the ass. And in fact, it did. See, Yoongi tried his best to live life the way he wanted—to the fullest, or as full as he could get. But this mistake might have saved him weeks of effort and suffering in which he realized he was a complete and utter fool.

Yoongi hadn’t noticed the beep of his door, heavily engrossed in tuning the demo he was working on. His hands moved across the dials and shifts on his setup, his ears covered by the headphones and the music dancing in his mind—

“What’s up, Yoongs?”

A curse left his mouth as he accidentally twisted one of the dials too far. Yanking off his headphones and turning around, Yoongi pinned the devil himself with a glare.

“Oh, scary,” Hoseok only laughed, unfazed. He had gotten used to being on the receiving end of that look whenever he disrupted Yoongi’s work, not that it made him do it any less. “I feel like you haven’t left this studio for days now.”

“Did you switch on the do not disturb function again?” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and cracking his neck. He had been in his studio for quite some time, but it was nothing new. Hoseok just wanted an excuse to pop by, which reminded him— “I really should get that lock password changed.”

Two people knew his passcode — one was Hoseok (a Mistake) and the other was Jeongguk whom he gave this privilege just because he came around so much, Yoongi couldn’t be bothered to open the door for him any longer.

Hoseok pouted, “Why? You don’t want me coming in here unannounced?”

“No.”

“Cold,” he chuckled, giving a little feigned shiver for good measure. “You look tired, you should get some rest.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the younger who was smiling much too brightly, flushed too deeply. “And you’re drunk, you should go home.”

“I’m not drunk,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, swaying a little as he stepped closer to Yoongi, “just a little tipsy. Not drunk. Tipsy.” He enunciated the last word very slowly, which gave away that he was, in fact, drunk.

“Seok-ah—”

Hoseok pulled Yoongi up and seated him against the board, trapping him in and catching Yoongi before he could run. He hummed and nuzzled his nose against Yoongi’s before moving down to bury his face in his neck. Inhaling deeply, Hoseok’s breath tickled Yoongi’s skin and—wow, it had been so long. Although Hoseok may be the complete antithesis of Yoongi, their physical chemistry had been undeniable.

“Fuck,” the younger groaned, “missed you a lot, hyung. Haven’t had cock like yours in so long.”

No, no. Yoongi could feel himself getting heated and that definitely wasn’t what he wanted when Hoseok was like this—nor did he really want Hoseok. He knew this was his dick talking, but his dick was talking very loudly. “Alright, Seok, time to go home.”

“Just a little bit—please,” Hoseok begged, eyes blown up in such a way that made Yoongi both pissed and soft. “Just a little kiss,” he stuck out his bottom lip adorably.

“I don’t think that’s a good—”

Instead of whining more, Hoseok huffed and rolled his eyes before crashing his lips down against the elder. His mouth moved fast, lips sucking in Yoongi’s as his tongue slipped in between. Yoongi’s knees faltered in surprise, his hands latching onto the younger’s arms for support. Hoseok must’ve taken that as encouragement because his hands slipped down to cup the other’s bottom as he drew him closer, pressing his noticeable boner against him.

Yoongi, as any other human would do with someone like Hoseok, reacted almost unconsciously. He moved his lips against Hoseok mindlessly, enjoying the softness of his lips. Hoseok tasted familiar with a tinge of alcohol.

But, for the first time, there was a feeling pulling at his gut that raised red flags. Something about this was just… wrong.

He didn’t know how long they stood there with their lips glued together, Yoongi trying his best to calm the sudden shaking of his nerves and Hoseok relishing the other man’s company. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes that he realized the light streaming in from outside his studio.

Because his door was open.

And Jeongguk was standing right there.

Yoongi should’ve known better that his carelessness and indecision would get to him someday. And that day happened to be it. Before he could even blink a second time to really process that the guy he had just slept with, the guy who made Yoongi’s studio a little warmer, a little brighter, and his heart a little lighter and heavier all the same, had seen him kissing another man, Jeongguk was gone.

The door closed with a resounding click that echoed much too loud in the small room. Suddenly, his studio felt suffocating, the space seemed to engulf him.

“Hoseok, get off,” he muttered as he shoved the other man off.

Hoseok looked at him in a daze, confusion evident in his expression. “S-sorry, shit, I really thought you were into it.”

Yoongi did too. Yoongi wished he was — or maybe he didn’t. Because this spoke volumes of what Yoongi was feeling — whatever it was that he couldn’t quite comprehend. But Jeongguk. It said a thousand words about how he felt about Jeongguk. Attached, affection.

And he had messed it all up.

Even then, Yoongi’s feet couldn’t bring him to move and he perhaps had let Jeongguk turn into another one that got away.

After his brief epiphany and after Hoseok left him to have yet another existential crisis, Yoongi resolved that he should at least talk to the boy or give him some time of day. Communication is key as everyone says. Maybe it’s time to start listening to the masses.

So, for once, Yoongi swallowed his pride — and it was difficult to take down — and walked up to Jeongguk’s cubicle. The interns worked in little boxes separated from the higher ups in the company. While Yoongi had been promoted enough to be granted his own studio, Jeongguk was still left to be cramped into a tiny square. This was probably why he enjoyed being in Yoongi’s space so much.

He peeked around the nonexistent door, seeing Jeongguk hunched over his laptop. Licking his lips, Yoongi braved himself. “Jeongguk,” he started.

The other whipped around so fast it seemed as if he was about to crack his bones. “Hyung.” His voice was barely a breath and his eyes — fuck, his eyes — looked absolutely pained. That wasn’t a look he ever wanted to see on anyone, especially not Jeongguk. His heart ached at the sight and knowing he had been the cause of it had guilt eating him inside out.

“Do you want to, um, maybe grab lunch with me?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flashed with another glint of pain. He glanced away for a second before turning back to his computer. “It’s fine, I’m sort of busy.”

“Guk-ah—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine,” Jeongguk said, his back still facing Yoongi.

He didn’t like it. It was strange facing Jeongguk’s back. They’ve always stood side by side or face to face. Even when Yoongi wasn’t looking at him, Jeongguk was usually facing his back. He had never been on the other side of it, had never realized how shitty it felt, and he wondered how Jeongguk had put up with it for so long.

“You’re obviously upset, look I—” Yoongi stepped inside the room, drawing closer to him.

The younger visibly stiffened at the sound of his footfall. “Stop.” Yoongi did. “Don’t come closer. Please.”

Yoongi wanted to reach out, wanted to touch him again. He thought back to the winter night when Jeongguk held his hand, his giggle ringing clear in the brisk air, and how his warmth had radiated against Yoongi’s cool skin.

“I get it,” Jeongguk began this time, “we were just dicking around. Please just go, I just—I don’t want you to see me like this. Okay?”

Not okay. Yoongi wanted to argue and push Jeongguk to talk, to scream at him, to just look at him. But he couldn’t be selfish — not when he has been so countless times to Jeongguk.

“I—alright, take care, Guk. Don’t forget to eat lunch, yeah?”

The other man didn’t respond and instead their silence is filled by the light tapping of Jeongguk’s fingers on his keyboard. He still hadn’t turned around and Yoongi left quietly with his heart in his throat.

Yoongi hadn’t realized before, had been so caught up in avoiding his feelings and processing them, how different things were without Jeongguk around. He hadn’t noticed how much time Jeongguk spent lounging around in his studio or doing work, how many times he greeted him in the hallways and dropped silly jokes that had him hiding his smile. The absence was almost tangible. The weight of his disappearance was a sudden burden upon his shoulders.

And thus, it was clear what would transpire. Yoongi’s moods deflated almost instantly. He was bitter and snappy, scaring away anyone who dared ring the door to his room. And it wasn’t as if he was trying to hide it — in fact, he made great attempts to show it.

“Jesus, can you stop the sulking?” Namjoon frowned, hitting him in the face with a carrot stick. As if Jeongguk ignoring him wasn’t bad enough, Namjoon was on a healthy binge and that meant that their fridge was cleansed of all fast food and ice cream — everything Yoongi needed to properly sulk.

“I’m not,” he pouted.

“Okay, what happened?”

Yoongi gave him a face that said everything. “Nothing.”

His roommate rolled his eyes, “Alright, let’s not play dumb here. Just tell me. Hit me with it. Did you fuck up with something?”

Yoongi’s frown deepened.

“Let me guess, you fucked that devirginized slash intern guy again.”

Yoongi dropped his head onto the table.

“Oh lord,” Namjoon huffed, turning around to reach to the top shelf behind him where he pulled out a bag of chips. “Tell daddy all about it.”

“The fuck, you have chips? What happened to your diet?”

“The fact that you responded to that and not my calling myself daddy means this is bad. Now come on, talk to me.” Namjoon paused, “Also, I have cheat days, cut me some slack.”

So he did. He told him everything, rambling on about how adorable and sweet Jeongguk was, how he shat sunshine out of his ass, and how he had fucked the kid again and started ignoring him and then the whole Hoseok mess.

“Let me get this straight, you fucked him, then you ignored him, then he walked in on you attempting to fuck someone else—”

“I was not attempting to fuck Hoseok!”

“Well, that wasn’t what it looked like to him, was it?” He had a point. “Then he started ignoring you.”

Yoongi sighed, “Basically.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything for a long while and, when the elder looked up, Namjoon was frowning and glaring at him so hard, it looked as if his face was about to burst.

“What?”

“You’re kidding me right? You’re sulking because of this when the answer is so simple?”

Yoongi threw a withering look his way, “Not everyone’s a genius like you.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all you need to do is talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Namjoon licked his lips, looking up to the heavens as if to ask why the gods were testing his patience. “You tried once. Once. The kid likes you a lot, why not use that to your advantage? The worst he could do is say no, but what have you got to lose?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi muttered.

“Why don’t you talk to him again? And maybe, I don’t know, ask him out properly. Take him out for milkshakes or a handjob at the movies.”

The elder moaned, rolling his forehead on the countertop. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck it up. I don’t even know how I feel, how am I going to deal with this?”

Namjoon smiled softly, patting his friend, “He seems like a good kid, he’ll listen.”

Guess it was finally time to get his balls back.

The following day, by the time lunchtime rolled around, Yoongi was sweating bullets. He finally gathered up the courage to pop by Jeongguk’s cubicle again, speech ready in mind. Straight to the point. Apologize and explain, then maybe ask him out depending on how he reacts to the apology. Perfect.

Except, he walked into the cubicle to see Taehyung, another intern, sitting on Jeongguk’s lap and giggling. Jeongguk was scowling affectionately, amusement dancing in his eyes, as he struggled to get Taehyung off him. However, when Taehyung’s eyes wandered to the door and widened in surprise, Jeongguk realized that they weren’t alone. He turned to find Yoongi standing there slack-jawed, the words on the tip of his tongue fizzling into the thick air.

“H-hyung!” he quickly shoved his friend off, Taehyung stumbling to his feet and glaring. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi eyed them cautiously. Were they a thing? Should he be here? Should he stay after this? Maybe they were—stop. Talking to him was important. No more miscommunication. “I… wanted to talk,” he said slowly.

It was clear that the conversation was not about to be a light one. The two glanced at Taehyung awkwardly and Taehyung stared at them awkwardly before understanding dawned upon him. Grinning, he skipped out of the room with a “good luck.”

He wasn’t sure if he was referring to Yoongi or Jeongguk.

Jeongguk shifted awkwardly in his seat, trapping his hands between his thighs (don’t think about his thighs, don’t do it, Yoongi) and peering up at him from his seat. “What’s up?”

“Do you have time after work? I’ll buy you a drink.”

Hurt flickered in the younger’s eyes. God, Yoongi was already fucking this up and he wasn’t even sure how. Jeongguk breathed shakily, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His heart stopped. Yoongi couldn’t breathe. “Or, dinner,” he scrambled, “I can buy you dinner. Lamb skewers from the cart outside? Or proper dinner, I can do too.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk murmured.

“I really want to talk to you, Guk-ah,” Yoongi emphasized, stepping inside the room and closer to the boy.

He looked conflicted for a moment, eyes darting around the room as if he was weighing out his options. Yoongi prayed to the higher powers that things would go his way—just this once. This one time he had courage. “Alright,” Jeongguk agreed, “I’m staying a bit late though to finish something for the big boss.”

“Yeah, s’fine,” Yoongi said much too quickly, tongue tripping over his words, “I’ll wait for you.”

Jeongguk softened and nodded, “Okay, see you later.”

By the time Jeongguk finished and knocked on his door, the sun had already set and the clock had just hit nine. They bundled up in thick coats before moving outside. It was a little chilly for a spring day and Yoongi almost instantly reddened from the cold. Jeongguk giggled at the sight of Yoongi’s glowing, rosy nose.

Yoongi’s heart hurt because he loved that sound so much and didn’t know how much he missed it until that moment.

They ended up settling for a barbecue restaurant two blocks away from the studio. Thankfully, the atmosphere wasn’t too heavy with the noises all around them. Even this late at night, the restaurant was still packed with patrons. From the clanking of metallic utensils to the sizzling of meat on each grill, the place was alive.

As Yoongi worked on flipping each piece of meat, Jeongguk fidgeted uncomfortably across from him. It was only after the two had a little food inside them that Yoongi began. “Listen, I fucked up.”

Jeongguk winced, “No, no you didn’t. You never promised anything more and that’s okay. I’m a kid after all.” He laughed, voice strained. “I wasn’t sure what was going on—I mean, you know, we did it again. So I thought—hey, maybe there’s something more here. But that was all on me, you never led me on or anything, but I took it that way. Thought when you were avoiding me you just needed more time, but should’ve known better. It’s my fault for taking advantage of you.”

The elder’s brows puckered in confusion, “Why are you apologizing? I’m the asshole here, I’m supposed to be saying sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jeongguk insisted.

“No, I was stupid,” Yoongi grimaced, taking a deep breath. “When I first met you, I thought you were incredible. You were this shy, vibrant kid who had a lot of passion for music and I liked that. I dug that a lot. Then we slept together and I thought you were still pretty cool and, just, I was scared. The last virgin I slept with ended up getting emotionally attached to me and—yeah, let’s just say it wasn’t a fun time. So I thought the same thing was going to happen with you.

“But you’re different, Jeongguk. It sounds cliché and stupid, but you are. You’re sincere and you’ve always been the more mature one out of the two of us. I was terrified of this whole thing mainly because I don’t really have experience with it, and the whole feelings thing—” he groaned, Jeongguk chuckled “—I’m—it’s not that I don’t feel things, I just don’t really know how to handle it when it comes like a bitchslap to the face.”

Jeongguk simpered quietly, “You’re saying your feelings about me slapped you in the face?”

“Felt like it, yeah. That whole lightbulb moment.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is, you were scared I would get attached because I, as you believed, was a virgin before I met you, and I did end up getting attached but not because of that, but now you’re attached too?”

Well, when he put it that way, it sounded so simple. “I guess—no, I mean, yeah. That’s exactly it.”

“So you like me?”

“Um, yes,” Yoongi squinted, unsure if it were a trick question.

“Like, like like me?”

Yoongi pulled a face. “Dude, we’re not five. Yes, I like you—in a way that I want to take you out to dinner and then have you for dessert in my bed.”

“God, yes,” Jeongguk groaned. Don’t get hard, Yoongi. “I want that. I mean, you’re bad at emotions or whatever but we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry. We’ll do it together.”

“Wait, so you do want me? Like you really want me?”

“How is this different from me asking if you like like me?”

The elder huffed, “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re cute.”

Yoongi tinged a deep pink. “Thanks?”

“Also, I wasn’t a virgin.”

He blinked.

“I don’t know what made you think that but I wasn’t.”

“Wait, but you—thanked me? After the sex?”

Jeongguk shrugged, a ghost of a smile still dancing on his lips. “It’s just a thank you for a good time. Common courtesy, you know.”

Yoongi was going to kill Namjoon. How was he always right?

“Fuck, you’re too cute,” the elder huffed fondly.

It was Jeongguk’s turn to blush. “Thanks, glad you think so.”

“So, uh, any plans after this?”

“You trying to offer to take me home?”

“Maybe.”

“To fuck?”

“It’s a school night, you’ve got classes tomorrow so no.”

Jeongguk pouted, “But it’s just sex.”

“Don’t you kids have a curfew?”

“Dude.”

To tie up this cheesy, little tale, Yoongi had to admit that he was an absolute fool for the entirety of his start with Jeongguk. The kid was sweet and a hard-worker. He was everything Yoongi liked in a person and more.

They took turns sleeping at each other’s places, sometimes ending up in the studio to cuddle whenever Jeongguk finished a tough exam or Yoongi winded down from working on a track too long. They would fuck each other one day, and snuggle another.

A year later, they’re working on getting their own apartment. With Yoongi working more hours, he picked up a place closer to the studio and—well, he had invited Jeongguk to stay with him if he’d like. Jeongguk didn’t even blink once before he jumped on the offer. Living together meant sharing chores and Yoongi liked the domesticity, liked that he vacuumed and scrubbed the dishes while Jeongguk did laundry and rinsed the plates.

Jeongguk was thoughtful and, turned out, he really did always thank Yoongi and curl up into his boyfriend (Jeongguk cried every time Yoongi called him that) after they slept together (he didn’t like to admit it but Jeongguk loved being the little spoon). When Yoongi made dinner as best he could, Jeongguk would reward him with a blowjob or a cuddling session—both equally as wonderful that Namjoon would gag to either one.

Yoongi didn’t think this was where his life would go, especially not with this entire mess, but for now, he was just grateful that he got his happy ending.

#bts #yoongi #jungkook #yoonkook #bts smut #bts angst #yoonkook smut #yoonkook angst #yoonkook fic #yoonkook fanfiction #bts fic #anyway THIS CAUSED ME SO MUCH PAIN AND IM JUST GLAD I CAN RELEASE IT INTO THE WILD #i love yoonkook my children

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opalesense · 4 years ago

Note

oh my god Your 'a sight to behold' work was mhmfmmsmamzx, i love it. im sosososoossosoo curious as to what graphic details you have in mind 😏

lose control

zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya & f!reader (NSFW)

3.5k words • ~22 min. read

summary: a part two to this where the boys are unable to fight their urges when they see you helplessly stuck in a wall.

warnings: slight dubcon, choking, cunnilingus, facefucking, a bit of zhongli favoritism oops!

notes: omg hehehe thank youu i’m so glad you liked it <3 i wrote it at 2AM and was so surprised it turned out decently well for my fuzzy brain HAHA anyway as for the graphic details... i only left them out originally because i wasn’t sure if anon wanted straight up full nsfw or not >////< but since you asked you shall receive... <3

zhongli

Zhongli effortlessly took the rocks off of you, waiting and watching your slight movements for a few moments before your eyes finally fluttered open. A throbbing pain in your temple sent one of your hands to gently massage it, making you wince quietly in pain. “Zhongli...”

“This is the result of carelessness and insufficient planning,” he crossed his arms and studied your curves as he calmly scolded you. “Next time, let me take the lead.”

As you laid there massaging your head, his eyes traced up and down your body, fixating on the way your legs were helplessly spread in front of him, parted in such a way that he knew he would fit perfectly if he sat between them. Following that train of thought, he uncrossed his arms and slowly climbed on the bed of rocks, letting his body hover over you and supporting his weight with a hand planted above your head.

His free hand crept up your shirt, pulling it up in the process. The way he suddenly exposed your torso made you gasp and simultaneously wince again from the sudden movements. You weakly placed a hand on his forearm, initially in instinctual protest but then relaxing as you knew this was not just some stranger from the outside, but a man you trusted. “Z-Zhongli, what are you-“

“Checking for injuries, of course,” he lied with a coy smile which made you softly giggle. His hand slowly caressed your bare hips and waist, noticing the way your skin formed goosebumps at his touch. You watched as his gloved fingers hovered over your bruises and scrapes, making their way up your torso then finally pulling your bra up to reveal your breasts. You swore you could hear the hunger in his low growl as his eyes were desperately fixated on your half naked body.

“Zhongli, at least take me home first–“ you attempted to speak up but he interrupted you by wrapping his hand around your throat, applying pressure while his knee wedged itself in the empty spot between your legs. As you choked, you finally got a good look at his face. The amicable yet stoic expression Zhongli usually had was replaced with something more sinister, more lustful. With heavily breaths and shaky hands, you could sense he was getting needier by the second.

“Right now?” you managed to whisper as you stared into his glowing amber eyes. Unable to form coherent words now, all he could do was press his forehead against yours and let his lips quiver as he fought the thoughts that flooded his mind. He knew he shouldn’t do this. He knew he should help you get home and ensure that your wellbeing is secured. A war raged on inside his head, the logical side of him trying to fight his urges, but he knew he couldn’t uphold this for long. His body couldn’t help but latch onto yours, grinding against you in desperation. You two didn’t need to say much to each other to know when Zhongli was craving you like this. Looking down at his knee slowly rubbing against you, you already knew what was going to happen. From the sight of you so vulnerable under him, your legs spread out in a perfect position for him to take you, all he wanted to do in this moment was chase his release. And yes, he needed to do it now.

You tilted your chin up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips, slightly catching him off guard. He let go of your throat as he gave you another short kiss back, letting out what sounded like a whimper once he pulled his face away. You sighed contently as you glanced down at his growing bulge. “Well, make it quick, okay? Then we can continue this at home–“

Immediately after hearing your approval, Zhongli wasted no time to lean down and wrap his lips on one of your nipples, immediately biting and sucking, causing you to arch your back and gasp at the sensation. He simultaneously freed his already hardened cock from his pants, slowly pumping it with his hand and letting out a low groan, sending vibrations to your nipple. You whimpered in pleasure, instinctively trying to pin your knees together in an attempt at modesty which only squeezed him closer to you.

He let go of your nipple and lifted himself up, now standing in front of you and slowly pumping his cock as he looked down at the sight of your lewd position. “Please tell me if this is too much,” he managed to tell you before he lifted one hand towards a boulder and crushed it into a peculiar shape with one swift movement.

Before you could process why he was now hovering the large rock over your body, you felt the earth rumble below you and push you upwards, straightening your spine as if you were laying on a table. Your legs began to dangle off the edge of the newly made platform as he locked you in place with the boulder he had shaped, which you noticed had a space carved into it only large enough for your waist to be pinned down. It was all adding up now as he grabbed both of your legs and pulled you closer to him, ensuring that you couldn’t escape his cleverly built trap.

Lifting your knees over his shoulders and pulling your underwear to the side, you felt his erection prod your slick entrance before he slowly pushed himself inside of your cunt, groaning in pleasure as he grabbed ahold of your thighs for stability. He began to rock his hips back and forth immediately, leaving you breathlessly moaning at the little time you had to adjust to his size.

“Only you make me feel this way,” he muttered as his grip on your thighs tightened. He leaned forward to pound into you at a better angle, his hips slamming into yours with each powerful thrust. “Only you can make me lose control of myself so easily...”

childe

“...I’m sure I can make all the pain go away and replace it with pleasure instead.”

Childe’s words echoed in your head as he yanked your underwear down and firmly gripped your ass, spreading your folds apart and making you shiver at the sudden exposure. You tried to wiggle your way out of the pile of rocks in protest, but that only pushed you further into his grasp, making him laugh at your pathetic attempt to escape. You didn’t want to admit that this was slowly turning you on, but looking down at the damp stain in your underwear, Childe knew regardless.

“You make it so easy for me,” he traced a finger over your already wet folds, eliciting a whimper from your throat. “You make it so easy for me to conquer you and remind you that you’re mine to play with.”

Even though you weren’t eager to get toyed around with, given the current circumstances of being completely locked in with nowhere to go, you weren’t completely opposed either. You couldn’t help but mewl at the feeling of Childe suddenly pushing one gloved finger inside of your trembling cunt, slowly curling his digit to massage your walls. “At least... take me home first...” you whined cutely, he thought.

“Why should I when you’re already enjoying yourself here?” he pulled his finger out momentarily only to push back in with two fingers, “Look how wet you are when we’ve only just begun...”

Childe could hardly contain himself either, but he didn’t want to verbally admit it. If only you could see how hard he was getting by the second just by staring at your vulnerable holes and the way your underwear hung around your knees, or the tiny squirming of your legs when he pushed the right spots inside you. If only you could see the way his eyebrows knitted together, breath stuttering as he fantasized about railing you into next year in this position, fucking you into the wall for hours until you cried for him to stop.

But for now, he decided he’d show you some mercy and make it quick. As he used his free hand to unbuckle his pants and unsheath his cock, he was determined to hear your screams echo around the walls of the cavern first before letting you go. “Hold still for me, okay? It’s not like you can go anywhere, anyway,” he chuckled then pulled his fingers out to grip your ass and position himself behind you, “I’ll make you feel so good...”

“Childe, wait–!” was all you could say before moaning in ecstacy as he began to drive his cock into your aching hole, each inch pushing apart your walls so deliciously that he couldn’t help but moan too. He stayed still for a moment, bottomed out inside of you, head pressed up against the rocks as he relished in the feeling of you clamping around his cock. But before you could relax and bask in the delightful feeling of being stuffed full, he squeezed your ass with both hands and began pounding into you with no second thought.

Whatever pain you might have had before was surely gone by his penetration alone. He knew how good he was screwing you by the way you whimpered out his name in between moans, or the way you subtly pressed up against him with the limited movement you had, matching his rhythm. “You better pray that I don’t lose control and fuck you here until the sun rises,” he said with a dubious smirk that you wish you could’ve seen, “But I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

diluc

To say Diluc was nervous as his eyes were pinned on your thighs rubbing together was an understatement. He could feel himself getting more aroused by the second, staring at your underwear and noticing a subtle wet stain that had developed beforehand. Your words were completely drowned out in his mind. All he could focus on was resisting his urges and maintaining his composure like a true gentleman.

But surely a gentleman could be a little self indulgent now and then, right? Especially since you were tempting him so badly wiggling around like that, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were doing this to him on purpose.

He took a few steps closer to the wall and adjusted his gloves before reaching into his coat pocket for a hair tie. “Could you repeat that again for me, dear?” he tilted his head as he gathered his long strands into a ponytail, never taking his eyes off of your glistening skin.

You happily obliged, listening to him kneel down behind you, assuming he was just picking up another rock. “I was just saying how – Diluc?”

Your assumption couldn’t possibly be more wrong. He interrupted you by pulling your underwear down to your thighs, licking his lips as his hungry gaze traced your wet folds, imagining what your face must look like by how he took you by surprise. His grip on your thighs tightened as he fantasized about you, the straps of your underwear still wrapped around his fingers to keep his hands on you no matter how much you squirmed underneath him.

He leaned down to press a sweet kiss on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you in response. Smirking, he stuck out his tongue and began slowly tracing the wet muscle around your folds, savoring your taste and savoring the sweet moans you gave him at the same time. “Keep making those pretty sounds, my love,” he whispered, his hot breath against your cunt driving you crazy.

His slow and sensual kisses on your cunt was only the start of his feast. Each kiss was accompanied with small circles he rubbed into your thighs with his thumbs and low periodic groans that sent vibrations through his tongue, making you whimper in ecstacy. But as much as he loved taking things slow and steady, he wanted to hear you cry out his name. He wanted to see how far he could take you to the edge by his control alone. He wanted to make those pretty legs tremble violently under his touch.

In one swift motion, he began to prod his tongue against your entrance, stretching your folds by drawing circles with his eager muscle. If only the rocks weren’t holding you down along with his hands pressing your thighs into place, you surely would have been thrashing around at the way he teased you with his tongue alone. Slowly, he began to extend his tongue into you more, inching his face closer to your aching hole and stopping once his nose met your skin. The sensation of his tongue gently quivering inside you made you melt, even more so when he started to fuck you at a steady pace with his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in your taste.

Soon, his movements started to reflect how hungry he really was for you. He bobbed his head steadily, stifling his moans so he could listen to yours. He took one hand off of your thigh to gently rub your clit with his thumb, still fucking you with his tongue and making you subtly rock your hips back and forth to match his rhythm. It hadn’t even been very long since he laid his hands on you, but your body couldn’t help but react to how worked up he was making you.

And of course, he would notice these reactions. Your shaky rhythm against his was an indicator to hold you down firmly and quicken his pace, and surely enough, the heat in your core was starting to build up. You buried your head in the rocks, flustered and blushing more than you ever had before. “D-Diluc...! More... more, please!”

When he pulled his tongue out, you figured he was just going to be mean to you and deny your orgasm but you were pleasantly mistaken. To your surprise, after a moment of rustling as he took one of his gloves off, he pushed two fingers inside of your needy hole and began to hit your sweet spot immediately as he fingered you, almost as if he had memorized what makes you cry out in pleasure. His eager lips began to suck on your clit as well, his heart set on making you cum on his fingers.

Soon enough, you couldn’t contain it anymore. Your legs quivered as you reached your peak, your mewling and whining sadly muffled by the rocks but loud enough for him to hear you clearly enough. The sound of his name being echoed throughout the cavern as your orgasm exploded on his bare fingers was enough to make his cock throb. With heavy, warm breaths, he pulled his face and fingers away from you to let you calm down from your climax, his face flushed red and nose shining from your wetness. “So beautiful... I can never get enough of you, [Y/N].”

You whined as he slowly let go of your thigh after giving you one last kiss on your sensitive clit. He licked his lips once more, lapping up all your wetness and wiping the excess that had dribbled down on his chin with his sleeve. With a chuckle, he stood up and placed his hands back on your ass, squeezing your curves and pressing his hips against yours. His clothed bulge fit so perfectly between your cheeks, snuggling comfortably in your wetness to leave a stain on his pants. He grinded himself into you even more at the sight of this, teasing you just for the fun of it. “Don’t worry love, we’re not going anywhere just yet...”

kaeya

“Now that I think about it, I do deserve a prize for saving you, don’t I?”

Kaeya’s hands travelled from massaging your scalp to scaling up your jaw, one thumb tracing your bottom lip gently asking to let him in. You pouted stubbornly, losing your patience – you had been stuck here for a while and wanted to get out, after all. “Quit running–“

But alas, he used this moment to stick his thumb inside your mouth, letting the pad of his finger massage your tongue. He let out a hum of satisfaction as your eyes softened, slowly submitting to his touch. “You’re being awfully defiant to the one person who can get you out of here. I ought to teach that naughty mouth of yours a lesson while I claim my prize, hm?”

This man never knows when to shut up, a voice in your head complained. But admittedly, the way he stared at your mouth so longingly had your core light up a tiny bit. You whined in response at first, looking down (or up?) at his thumb disappearing inside your mouth then deciding it would be best to comply. With a small hum you opened your mouth wider, letting your tongue stick out as your eyes darted to meet his. He grinned contently, pulling his thumb out of your mouth to pull his cock out of his pants. No matter how many times you’ve seen his length, you never understood how he managed to fit himself inside you.

“Good girl,” he tucked his hand under your neck to offer support as he pressed his tip against your awaiting tongue. He started rocking his hips slightly just to tease you, grinning evilly as he stared down at your eyes. “You’re so cute like this. So vulnerable and eager to please whenever I want you...”

He began to slowly push himself into your mouth, letting out a groan of relief as he buried himself inch by inch. You sputtered a bit at first, not completely used to his length just yet, but secretly he loved whenever you choked on his cock. He let you ride out your choking a bit more as he nearly bottomed out, watching as your throat slowly relaxed around his bulge.

His other free hand found its way on your cheek, caressing it as he started to rock his hips back and forth very slowly, basking in the feeling of your throat clamped around his cock. “Such a good girl, making me feel so good whenever I want... You’re doing very well, sweetheart,” he quietly praised, opting to listen to your muffled whimpering whenever he pushed in.

A bit of restlessness started to kick in after awhile of fucking your mouth so slowly, and with a naughty smirk, Kaeya took both hands to grip both sides of your head. He started to thrust into your mouth at a quicker pace, occasionally pulling out to give you a breath of air only to bury himself in your throat again. He found himself unable to contain his moans at this point, letting his sweet, raspy praises for you ring through your ears. Your legs started to twitch in excitement the more he praised you for being so obedient and good for him that despite your initial defiance, you hoped he would take care of your needs later.

Your thoughts were interrupted by his fingers running across your scalp then suddenly taking a tight grip on your head as he fucked your brains out quite literally. He began to get lost in the feeling, ignoring your pleas for air as you tapped his thigh repeatedly through tears. Even when he snapped back to his senses for a moment to pull out, he whined desperately as he quickly pushed himself back in, wanting to chase his orgasm so badly using your mouth.

“S-So good for me... I’m gonna...! F-Fuck, no..!” Kaeya quickly and quite nervously pulled himself out of you, leaving you immediately coughing and gagging in your own spit and his precum. He grunted in frustration, leaving you confused and concerned as you continued to choke for air. He suddenly tucked his cock back into his pants haphazardly and went straight back to work on getting the rocks off of you.

“W-What was that all about? Are you waiting until we get home or something?” your voice was clearly defeated as you watched him work. He only glanced back at you for a moment before chuckling and pulling one specific rock out of the pile to send the rest tumbling down, finally revealing your trembling body, exposed in all of its glory. You gasped in a mixture of relief and excitement as he hungrily climbed on top of you and pulled you towards him so your head wouldn’t hang off the edge anymore. You giggled at how disheveled and horny he evidently was, his movements ragged and needy. Who could blame him for looking so desperate when he was staring up and down your vulnerable body, waiting to devour you like a hungry beast?

His hands worked with urgency as he ripped your underwear off and unsheathed his cock again, manhandling your hips to meet his. You gasped as he quickly pushed himself inside of your cunt and began pounding into you mercilessly, not letting you adjust to his size since you were already so aroused for him anyway. Your cute whimpers and gasps made him even more feral, and it was at this point that he decided to lean down and whisper the answer to your question earlier.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I can’t just wait until we get home, I need to be inside you right now...”

#zhongli #childe #ajax #tartaglia #diluc #kaeya #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #requested

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nhyckdcxx · 3 years ago

Text

Neighborhood

Characters: Vernon! x reader!neighbor

Genre: smut/fluff

Words: 2.008k

warning:unprotectedsex, blowjob, kitchensex, fingering,kinky,foreplay,riding,intimate

Summary: Vernon is your neighbor since you move into your new unit. You can always see him but never talked to him. An incident led you to ask for his help and casually having a thing that is not expected.

A/N: another memberxreader prompt piece I made. Inspired by the Attaca teaser photos I crazily thinksss. I cant sleep. Well, anyways hope u enjoy this one! ;))

————

It was weekend. You are already finishing all of your house chores and started to prepare for your dinner.

You went to check what it was, only to find out that your heater is broken.

"Oh.shit.. why is it now??ugh!." You groaned in frustration.

You immediately called the maintenance of your building but unfortunately, there is no maintenances at the moment that could assist you.

"The hell with this. What should i do?."

You called some of your friends, some of them didn't pick up. Well, its a weekend.. maybe that's why..

You suddenly remembered your neighbor. Youve been staying in that apartment for 6mos already, and yet you didnt have a chance to talk to him or greet him.

Should you ask him for help? Nah. Youre shy..

But then, the weather is really chilly. And without the heater, you might die in coldness.

"Nah, I have my last option, my mom."

You called and unfortunately, She's not at home. She went out of town with her bingo friends. You sighed.

You only have your neighbor as your last option. You mustered all your courage to ring his doorbell. You bought your dinner hoping that he wil let you in and eat him, with him..

You ringed the bell 2 times.. bit nervous..

He opened the door. He is in his pajamas. His top was unbuttoned. (same.as.the.picture.above.i forgot.the.exactwords.)

You were speechless. He was looking at you expressionless.

"uhm.. Hi. Im from unit 201, hehe." A bit nervous.

"Hi."

"uhm.. can I uhm.. have dinner here? Uh.."

"sure. Come in.." He said without hesitations. He acts like he knows what exactly you mean..

You both went inside his unit. His unit was fucking clean. It turned you on. He smells exactly the same as his room. So manly.. you suddenly became horny.

You immediately went to his kitchen. You heard him chuckled. Fuck?

"uhm. I brought some kimchi soup. You know.. h..hehe would you like some?." You genuinely offered it.

"Yes." You talk to each other like you already know each other.

"i..im y/n.. i forgot to introduce myself." You chuckled.

"Im Vernon." He answered.

"Hi Vernon! How long are you here in this apartment?." You asked trying to make the conversation longer.

"quite some time."

"Do you have a job? I mean.. i dont usually see you. H..hehe.."

"officeworker."

"ohh I see.. h..hehe." Youre out of questions now. How can you keep the conversation going?

"i like the soup." Vernon said.

"ohh.. ahaha.. Thank you. I just made this because its really cold outside. Im so glad you liked it.." You said. You now feel that the atmosphere is a bit light.

You finished eating and you fixed the table already. You are at the kitchen sink when you felt a presence. It was Vernon.

He suddenly came to you. "Uhm... I wanted to wash the plates.. can I wash---.."

Vernon suddenly kissed you. You can feel him pressing unto you..

He started to undress your top, and his hand caressing your breast. You liked it. You only know his name, and yet here you are, kissing him. Letting him strip you and cup your breast.

"uhm.. wait-- uhh Ver..non.. ahhhhhh---" You cant think straight anymore.. Youre immersed in this feeling already. The feeling of being fucked by a handsome and mysterious neighbor.

You like a man who knows how to take charge. You also like being nude in front of a man with half of his clothes on. A good beginning is important.

He suddenly carried you in a bride style..

"I just wanna fuck you so bad.. Im sorry it got me turned on." sincerly apologizing to you. but, you dont find it wierd. You find hot. It made you more horny.

Then he got naked. His penis was huge. He didn't seem to be in any hurry. You love being french kissed in the nude. This is like one of your fantasies. Vernon decided you'd love it even more while being finger fucked.

He started to move lower unto your inbetween legs. His tongue and fingers were in perfect sync.

"aahhhh--uhhhnggg.." You kept on moaning that made him turned on more.

As you became increasingly wet, his attention shifted to your fully erect nipples. You liked the sensation of his tongue expertly probing and flicking your pleasure cherries.

You're proud of your breasts, and appreciated his serious attempt to lick and suck the pink off your nipples.

"uhhhhhhhngg.. s..shit.. how can you be this good Vernon.. uhhhh.."

He didnt answer.

He backed away and re-situated his body between your legs. His cock was standing straight up. He lifted your left foot and he placed your toes to his face. He began licking each one like a special morsel, and then repeated the procedure with your right foot. This was fun.

Vernon is such an expert. You werent expecting that a mysterious boy can be this good in fucking.

You wanted to be fucked. He spread your legs and ate you out. You always liked being licked. He tongued you like a snake, slowly edging near and around the clitoris but never quite making contact. You moaned longingly as he brought me to the brink of release with pleasure surges that kept increasing in intensity.

"ahhhhhhh..uhhhhh..nggg.." You heard him moan and it made you hornier.

You begged.

Vernon inserted his finger into your pussy and then withdrew it, wet and glistening with your physical excitement.

He anointed your clitoris and licked it that made you arched your back in pleasure..

Vernon re-inserted his finger all the way in, and slowly withdrew it. This time he drew a moist trace of pussy juice from the top of the pubis and up the abdomen.

You sat up on your elbows to watch. This was a show you didn't want to miss.

He reintroduced his finger and slowly withdrew from the nectar well. Brushing past my clitoris, he again traced a liquid glory trail further up your abdomen, and into the navel.

"ahhhh..fuck..your pussy's so wet..y/n.." Vernon said while playing your juices.

He had found your secret fetish, your only secret shame, and you were in heaven.

You watched his fingernail lewdly wiggle it's way back and forth across the belly knot, producing a gloriously painful pleasure.

You're lipbiting. You raised your tummy for more exquisite love punishment. You relished the idea of having a stranger make your navel so sweetly sore and red, and Vernon's finger didn't disappoint.

"You have such a sexy belly button.." he purred.

You blushed. You really like it when someone notices it.

"You like it when I say belly button, don't you?"

You nodded.

"Tell me how much you like my finger in your belly button." Vernon said.

"I..i like it..."

"No-- say it..."

"I like your finger...in my.. b..belly button.." You murmured.

"Say it again louder like you mean it!! Where do you like my finger?"

You hesitated before obeying his command. You managed to raise your voice, this is the first time that you heard his real deep voice. but couldn't find the wherewithal to look him in the eye.

"I..in my belly button."

"That's right!" he sneered. "In your belly button!" He said.

As his finger continued to probe, You felt yourself literally dripping on the sheet below. Of all your past partners, no man had loved your tummy quite like Vernon.

When his nail finally found the core of the birth scar, it made you cum.

"ahhhhhhhhnggg..s..shit..ahhhh.. s..shit Ver..non..im cumming.. ahhhh.."

Your body quivered all the way down to your toes. You felt like a naked little girl who had touched herself impurely for the first time, and then realized her mother was watching.

The delicious mixture of pleasure and shame overwhelmed your senses.

Before your pleasure ebbed, his mouth was back and slobbering on your breasts. He was so excited, and you are so ready.

You spread your legs wide open in anticipation of being penetrated. His penis was not only long, but had plenty of girth. You beckoned him while fingering your clitoris.

"Such a slutty angel.. i love it.." He murmured.

"Please fuck me now Vernon.. Use me any way you like.. I want it so fucking bad.. I want your dick inside me.." pleading like a slut.

Instead, he placed your hand around his shaft, guiding it slowly up and down. Without any coaxing you placed your mouth on the head of his penis and ran your tongue lovingly around the well-defined ridge. The circumference seemed to go on forever. You paid special attention to the underside where the seminal vesicle attached.

You licked the penis slit, and tasted a tiny dew drop of his excitement. You licked it again, and waited. Another clear droplet of lubricant emerged which you smeared all over the head with your finger. It felt so slippery, sensuous and sexy.

"ahhhhhhh..shit..aaaaaahhnggg.." Vernon moaned.

You spread your legs. He carefully inserted the head of his penis into your pussy, which caused you to spread even wider. That amazing ridge and penis head worked it's way back and forth in an agonizingly slow tease.

"ahhhhhhh..uhhhhngggg..ahhhshit.."

Your fully stretched crack barely swallowed the tip of his amazing cock which he tantalizingly popped in and out of your vulva repeatedly. If you had not been so lubricated, it might have split you in two.

With slow measured thrusts he achieved full penetration. He was as hard as a rock, and stayed hard as a rock for what seemed an eternity. If you both had stood up, he could have anchored you onto that sweet appendage without your feet ever touching the ground. Oh your going to be so sore for the next week, and it was going to be so worth it.

Without missing a beat you both rolled over which left you on top to ride him rodeo-style. Vernon remained still while you did all the work. He placed his hands at your sides.

"ahhhh..ahhhhh..shit..ahhhhh.auhhhh.." You both moaned in pleasure.

"That's right.." He purred sweetly.

"Give me a show while I fuck you. Keep me nice and hard like a good belly dancer." He said.

He placed his thumbs on your nipples. "Your titties are so big, so pink, and so hard. A naughty little girl like you loves a good fucking, don't you? You're as randy as a dirty little whore. You want every bit of pleasure you can grab. You want to be fucked like a dirty, filthy little whore, don't you?"

That sounded sexy to you. Its true you wanted to fucked like a slutty whore.

"Yes...oh God..uhhhhh..yes!"

You worked your vagina up and down every inch of his amazing human club. Your insides were turning to jelly. You never had felt so possessed in your life. A lightning bolt of pleasure surged through you, and repeated four or five times in rapid succession. You began to shake. Each surge brought on a new level of rapture. You could hardly catch your breath as he thoroughly stoked the needs of your sexual furnace. You fell back in surrender as he finished me off.

Both satisfied.

He slowly pulled out, still hard, and christened your belly button with his remaining seed. The sight re-ignited your arousal.

He slowly daubed his middle finger in the ejaculate pool, and coated your nipples with semen. He then lapped up semen with his index finger, and without warning, stuck it in your rectum.

Before you could fully react, the tip of his tongue lapped the tip of your clitoris like a parched dog. Your entire body clenched as you cried out in blissful agony,

"Oh.. ahhh..shit..that is so fucking nasty!"

You squirted in his face; once.. twice... three times.

He closed his eyes, and didn't move a muscle.

"I wish, you wouldnt hate me for this.." Vernon said.. You shushed him. You cant blame him thou.. You liked it too. Its just that the Vernon that you are expecting is a shy and nerdy one. It turns out, its the different one.

#seventeen smut #vernon #vernon smut #svt au #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt

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orangeskiesandshinyeyes · 4 years ago

Text

Angry sex with Skz

Chan

Probably be quiet the whole time.

No praising or sweet talk like usual.

Would avoid looking into your eyes for as long as possible because he knows that if you look at him like that he'd fall right into your arms.

You'd be fighting or in the middle of an argument when he decides he's had enough of the negativity and grabs your thigh to pull you to him.

That's when he'd stop talk too. Eyebrows knit together and eyes trained on you he'd push you against whatever and get to work on your bottoms.

Would look into your eyes while getting you naked almost teasingly. But if you were to go soft on him, maybe wrapping your arm around his neck or touch his face or something he would look away from you so fast.

Wouldn't kiss you either. But once you get desperate almost on the verge of your release, he'd let you hold him if you wanted to. And he loves seeing your lose yourself because of him and that would make him forget his anger atleast momentarily. Reaching out to touch your face he'd finally whisper sweet nothings as you came back down.

And when he was done too, he would pull out and give you the silent treatment again. But he'd turn you over and spoon you.

It'd be very angsty but also kinda cute.

'Hey, I love you.'

You'd whisper gently.

You'd know him too well by this point that when you don't immediately get a reply, you wouldn't be mad.

A gentle squeeze to your waist and a kiss pressed to your shoulder would be enough for you but right before you dozed off, he'd whisper an I love you.

Leeknow

He would be talking to you through it.

Mostly

'What, can't stay mad now?'

'You're always so serious about everything, God!'

'I can't joke around with you when you get annoyed so easily'

He'd list off all the things that ticks him off about you all the while having the most amazing missionary session.

And when you wouldn't reply with anything other than gasps and moans he'd laugh partly because he was in disbelief at how you could take all the comments so easily now with zero resistance and partly because he found your uncaring demeanor cute.

'Ah! So annoying!' He'd scream out because he was getting frustrated that he couldn't stay mad at you. Especially when you were reacting so well to him.

He'd go super fast just to make you lose yourself further. He'd do this as a way of saying Yea that's right, that's what I can do to you.

Not the type to go rough because he does that anyway. So it would be more like trying to get you to unravel under him while he acts unbothered by the steaming hot sex. He'd be so sure about your submissiveness that he'd start laughing when you start to shake as you climax.

Once you get your release however, all that he said would finally register in your head as you push him down on the bed sitting on his lower belly, trying to get some time to prevent overstimulation before you wrecked him.

You'd push your palms down on his chest as you ask him, voice low

'Stuck up? Too sensitive? Do you want to repeat all that again?'

And he would be speechless. Never in a million years would he have thought that you could recover from that orgasm but here you were with a look in your eye that screamed dom.

Blinking up twice at you he'd get no time to react before you tug on his nipples as you sink yourself on him.

Throwing his head back he'd avoid trying to fight back for dominance as he was way too close to waste time trying to get the power back that slipped away from him the second you came.

Changbin

He'd be very grabby. Usually very respectful, mad changbin would be groping your breasts, your ass, heck, even your clit.

Would gradually increase the pressure of his pinches as he observed how much was too much. And he'd pinch you right at that threshold.

Twisting your nipple as he watched the way your face twists in pain and pleasure, he'd thrust into you. Even if you'd be riding him you'd have zero control of the situation as he fucks up into you making you grab onto his shoulders for support. Wouldn't let you hide your face during any of it and would yank your chin to face him.

'Where do you think you're looking? Hmm? Your eyes stay on me, got it?'

Would leave one too many hickies and bite marks. Even if you whined that people would see and he'd get scolded for it he would still keep going adding one more for everytime you said no.

When you guys were done, he'd be laughing about it.

'Did we really need to argue over that? I'm glad it did anyway. You look like you were in a fight and that's hot.' He'd say laughing inbetween as he traces the bites and purple marks littering your entire body.

Hyunjin

Would be a little selfish. The type to not let you come as punishment. But that wouldn't be the case always. Another boy who would go soft if you went soft. If you were angry, the anger would just bounce around and he'd want to get off on that angst.

Would be turned on seeing you all angry and bothered but he'd pretend to be mad and put up the facade that he's fucking now just to show you how he can shut you up. But he gets so hot and bothered seeing you get mad at him. He wants a lot of adventure when it comes to sex so he would come faster and wouldn't be shy about it either. Two bird with a stone for him since he'd have a reason for releasing so fast. He's showing you up.

Wouldn't mind if you got aggressive though. He'd be hoping for it secretly. Grabbing after him if he left you hanging, taking things into your own hands getting rough with him. Would love getting roughened up by his little sweet princess. You'd have to figure that out by yourself though.

Would turn submissive real fast if you switched though.

Moaning and whining in your ear, he'd bring up the argument again.

Mostly just trying to get you mad again he'd make zero sense with his sentences. Would love if you talk filthy or down to him.

'Maybe I should go and fuck around with someone who wouldn't be such a brat? Hmm?'

'You want me to beg now do you? Why would I when I can just get on top of you like this?'

'You're enjoying this aren't you? Not having to do the work?'

He'd moan at your antics, not replying but definitely listening.

If you stop talking, he'd whine and try to annoy you more so as to coax more out. Dig your nails into him and he's a goner.

Jerking up into you he'd almost come but wouldn't, this time being considerate waiting for you.

Jisung

He might get a little too mean with his anger.

Going a little overboard he might hit you right in your insecurities prompting you to tear up. If he couldn't see you crying and if you wouldn't tell him that it hurt he wouldn't stop because he wouldn't know. He tests the waters with you for everything and believes in the whole trial and error side of things.

But the first and last time it happened, he'd stop so fast when he heard you let out a quiet sob. He would turn the light on so fast and you'd be met with him still on top of you wide eyed with an arm covering his mouth.

Seeing the tears flowing down your cheeks would cause the waterfall to form in him too, him crying silently as he freezes up.

If you got up to leave after pushing him off he would just sit there in disbelief, head empty as his heart starts beating a little too hard. He'd need a lot of time to collect himself before deciding to check up on you.

But you'd know this already and would instead opt to reach out to his arm asking him to lie down with you.

Now full on sobbing next to you he would be shaking a little, lips trembling with his fingers gently, shyly holding your side.

'Stop crying.'

You'd say.

Nodding he'd try his best but his shoulders would still shake as he tried to hold back the sobs. The situation now turned around you'd bring your fingers up to his face and have a heart to heart with him. Nodding and apologising whenever you finished a sentence he'd be sniffing still but gently calming down, knowing that you weren't going to hate him.

Once he was sure that you were okay and that you weren't mad at him, he'd get closer nuzzling into your neck. Running his arm up your body he'd trace his way up your spine before cradling your neck. Whispering into your neck, he'd hug you gently

'Baby?'

'Mm?'

'Wanna love you.'

And when you let out a shy nod, he'd start kissing your neck slowly letting him get hard again.

This wouldn't be for him though. He was determined to make you feel as loved as possible and show you just how precious you are to him. Not the best at assuring you with words, he'd try his best to make you feel his love.

It would be so intense with him holding your face the whole time, sometimes intertwining your fingers if you brought your arms up to grab anything when it got too much for you. He'd ground you with his kisses and fingers when you edge closer and closer to your orgasm.

When you moan out as you climax, whispering I love you to him, he'd tighten his grip on you subconsciously while same time feeling the tears build up again.

He'd bite down on his lips hard enough to make them bleed almost but would relax if you peck them seeing his abuse on his pretty lips.

Would probably decide to stop once you climax and would refuse to continue saying he's fine but pull a little switcheroo and ask him if he's not turned on and he'd start chanting no no that's not it and slowly start up again, making sure you weren't in any discomfort.

And next time you were about to have angry sex, he would make sure to show you that he loves you more than anything.

Face pressed into your neck, his back against the table he'd have your leg thrown over his waist as he slowly brings you down on him same time thrusting in. Your torsos would be glued together and the most aggression that would come out are small whispers of why you shouldn't do what it was that made him mad in the first place.

'Ugh.. don't.. act sexy in front.. of others like that. Im not.. the only one who.. gets a boner. Oh..kay??'

When you tangle your fingers in his locks and press a kiss to his ear while moaning out a small yes, he'd praise you.

'Mmm. Good. You're mine, right?'

Ofcourse you were but he'd always want to hear it from your mouth. And when you assure him, he'd shift his focus to making you both climax feeling happy with the confirmation.

Felix

This would be a way for him to make sure that you guys were still perfect together. Both of you angry, maybe even screaming at each other he would let it go on for as long as he could take it before getting worried and slamming his lips into yours. Would be scared if you push him back but he'd keep trying mostly to ensure that this was just a normal fight among healthy couples.

If you fell weak against his lips, he'd go full dom. Slamming your body into his he would waste zero time in getting you naked. Not a single piece of clothing would be left on either of you and wouldn't bother with the lights purposely leaving them on wanting to see you so vulnerable in front of him.

Wouldn't make it to the bed. Desperate to want to feel your love for him he'd get impatient and push you down on the floor even. Another boy who'd snap if they got their I love you.

Now sure that everything was fine, he'd go back to lover mode and start making you more comfortable lifting you off the cold floor and planting his butt on it instead. Would hug you close when you came and same with him. Chances are, the cuddling session would start off right where you guys did the dirty be it the floor , the counter, the couch. Whatever.

Once you voiced how uncomfortable it is he'd drag you over to the bed so he could cuddle with you again.

Seungmin

He would go doggy style on you.

He has a dark side to him that never makes it's appearance unless extremely provoked. It's not that he doesn't want to be rough and purely lustful with you but he'd want to be so respectful with you that he'd never show that side.

Pounding into you, he'd have his hands on your ass. He'd spread your cheeks a bit too far, ogling the new sight as he groans behind you, going rougher.

Would land a few spanks too.

If you wanted to continue the argument during the session, he'd have no problem telling you to shut up.

'Oh my God, QUIET!' He'd shout at you causing you to let out a small whimper while simultaneously convulsing around him.

The stimulation would make him falter a bit as he brings his palm back down on your ass a bit harder this time.

Would edge you so bad. He'd pull out the second he knew you were about to come, letting his length barely graze your folds.

Definitely going to push you forward and onto the bed with you butt in the air to watch your opening contract at the loss of contact.

Angry sex would be the time for him to explore everything about your body that he's always been curious about but never had the courage to explicitly go in to.

And boy, does he explore. He'd be so dirty, treating you like an artifact that has secrets hidden at every crevice. You whining would have zero effect on him.

Only way for him to snap out would be if he felt that you're uncomfortable. He'd apologise profusely for the mean things said during sex but not for the argument itself.

But if you're nothing but horny, you can bet on the fact that he would make you pass out when you came.

Not writing for the baby B-A-B-I-E

#straykids reactions #han smut #straykids imagines #straykids smut #stray kids #chan smut #minho smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #skz smut

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leviaju · 4 years ago

Text

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.

They held no remorse.

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you.

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.

There was silence, followed by a sigh.

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause.

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE

PELASE

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake.

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!”

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too.

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!”

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room.

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!”

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?”

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time.

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless.

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.

There’s one beat,

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him.

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him.

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers.

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do.

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.”

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.

Almost fearlessly.

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches.

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now.

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words.

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously.

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I��m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--”

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission.

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

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thisdreamplace · 3 years ago

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ashamed to say the 3D reflects our true inner reality, yes? my ENTIRE family has turned against me, after some atrocious conflicts in which they all ganged up on me nd judged me, name-calling, very hurtful things too, provoked me. i been dealing with some serious mental uh 'issues' on my own nd when this happend i was already on the verge of a breakdown nd the good news is while the conflict happened i kept telling myself theyre only reflecting me u can get thru it etc. Later i looked at the hard facts nd realised some of the hurtful things they said were my deep secret feelings abt myself. BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people? confronting one person vs whole family, why?! i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?

Part 2 is simply its been a week and theyve still been cold towards me as if I yelled AT THEM ABT THEIR PAINFUL 'tRuThS' in front of EVERYONE LMAOOO. At first if i was around we'd have dinner together while they'd all talk to each other like best friends aka sickeningly overly friendly while completely IGNORING me while i sat there. i could tolerate it. I WAS PISSED AT THEM TOO Now its too painful. They're having dinner without telling me, yesterday didnt leave enough food for me knowing i hadnt eaten, serve tea/snacks without my portion. i honestly feel so unspeakably trigered nd sad. worst is these things r reminding me of deep school memories when id feel excluded like this by other kids at parties or class activities nd its like im back there. anyway im glad i controled myself a bit nd didnt counter with horrid things abt them to THEM yet they think they can say the same to me. im so hurt rn i cant even tell u lol i was okay the whole week but now its too much,, ive been crying the whole day

thing is, ik this seems like 'im a victim oh noooo they ganged up on meee'. Nope its more like how do i change myself to change them?! u could say why not talk to them how they made u feel, except whenever ive defended myself in the past regarding hurtful things they/anyone in family did, the siblings/parents would say irritating things like: "oh so YOU'RE the one hurt? Oh thats right, its because YOU'RE right! yes, yes, you're always right. Forgive me for saying anything against the perfect person u are." Or one of them says: "You?! I hurt YOU? What about me? You don't care about me! So you think what ur doing is okay?" or "no, who do YOU think u are to tell ME what to do?" it just goes in circles like this! i dont deserve to hurt myself or do smth to myself even if they dont give a damn, even if years of silent suffering of the 'mEntAL pRoBlEms' (which my lovely parents have already told me is my fault years ago, hence why I NEVER show it to them, unless im crying too much then lol they just mock me, but idc abt THAT bcoz now ik i hav a right to let out my emotions)). i mean this is worse rjan usual. its kinda insane nd when guests come they start talking to me as if nothing's wrong then when they leave, they ignore me!

this whole twisted dynamics, feelijf left out nd helpless is ig some crazy assumptin from childhood of being alone nd unable to defend myself. plus when they argye with anyone, they become overly self-righteous nd over the years its clear they can only scream, blame the scapegoat and never talk abt serious matter like normal ppl. And yes, in the past when i bring this up, they like to reply with stuff like: "no YOU'RE the one who doesnt talk to US bla bla" like, when i do u just shut me down? have belittled my mental 'issues', mocked me when im at my worst, stabbed me with cruel silent treatments nd thinking its alright "bcoz of self-righteousness blegh". Or maybe i think its okay for them to punish me? or whatev? Like law says u get what u r. if these ~~~ keep doing this to me, im doubly ashamed to say this means im the one at fault?! i let this monster assunptin grow nd now idk what to do. the worst thing imo is how i failed to tell them,even if they ignored me in the past, how i feel when anything like this or a conflict happens nd none of them stand up for me, or at least are neutral to me. bcoz now if i do, they say nope, u dont care what we do, YOUR the shameless one :! so yeah they hav the advantage of 'numbwrs' while im too afraid to stand up for myself lol. btw they never apologize nd i suspect they expect ME to apologize to TYEM bcoz everything's already ruined bcoz of 'me'..... i give up on them, i really do, but my heart hurts. Either i harden my heart, nd save up to move out, OR i try to change my self or whatev assumptins i have. But how do i do that? i try afirming: "my familys so nice to me, im respected by them" but it feels so fake tears literally enter my eyes lol

firstly i want to say, thank you for coming here to vent and being open about your feelings. it’s so important sometimes to just let it all out, without holding back. so that way you can move forward more bravely, to create the life you truly want to experience. that being said, i am going to be completely honest with you here in hopes that perhaps it may inspire you and you will be ready to do what is needed for the life you truly want to experience.

“BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people?” -> “i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?” here is your question, and here is your answer. i think that being completely honest when venting your feelings can actually be so helpful, because if you read back what you have said, you will be able to clearly find the patterns that are creating your personal hell. FEELING IS THE SECRET. ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO FACT. the true way you feel, becomes your experience. Feelings/assumptions/beliefs come first, and the experiences come second to confirm them. That’s all that’s happening here.

i am glad that you were able to keep your reactions to a minimum! that's wonderful and as many of us know, it can sometimes be hard to do in such hurtful circumstances. but you managed to do it, this shows just a small glimpse of the power you truly hold within. although emotionally you may feel out of control, there is still the choice to choose better for yourself which you demonstrated through your reaction to them. good for you!

the truth is, you acknowledge the victim mindset to seem like you’re not engulfed in it, but no, you’re still very clearly engulfed in it. as i have said before, you can’t be a VICTOR and feel bad about it. feeling bad about taking responsibility, about everyone is you pushed out, about any of these types of concepts automatically shows a victim mindset. talking to them won’t do anything, because there are no second causes. you could talk to them nicely, you could be the nicest person in the world. but you can’t pretend your way out of your inner world. your inner world is the one and only cause of your experiences. until you change the story you tell yourself, they will stay the same. this is a hard pill to swallow sometimes. and it can feel heavily, because it’s ultimately only you’re choice. they can’t change until you do. the heaviness of the situation may make it seem impossible to turn around, but that’s just an illusion. your emotional attachment to the situation makes it seem so real and hard to change, but no. that’s just an illusion too. however, it’s ultimately your choice. Do you want to take responsibility for your life, or do you want to keep being tossed around like your lost at sea, victim to the merciless angry waves? Because we always have a choice. No one chooses your inner world, you do. No one can go into your mind and decide things for you, that’s only your job.

you can harden your heart, but who would be the one who suffers more? It won’t be your family, i can assure you. it’ll only be you. by doing that, you keep that old story alive and therefore you keep experiencing it. you keep those stories alive that are desperately showing themselves to you, saying “LET US GO.” but you remain identified with those painful stories, so you grip onto them tight. you keep on thinking of possible reasons for their behavior, but you could just read your entire ask back to yourself and you’ll see every reason. your reactions, your beliefs about them, your emotional pain. its your refusal to let those things go, and focus on what you truly want that keeps you in this state and keeps them in this state. sure it’s painful to face the responsibility at first, but it’s not a blame game. thinking its about blame is just a misunderstanding of the teachings. it’s not about they’re so perfect and you’re so not, so you have to change your ways. it’s about this is how life works here. this is about... you can ONLY ever experience self. whatever is going on within, will be reflected in your outer world. it’s about how they can’t change, UNTIL YOU DO. so instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you have to decide to give yourself the gift of a wonderful life because you have that power too. you stop deciding they can be in control of your experience, and you decide your experience yourself.

to change your assumptions, stop trying to affirm over them and actually face what’s keeping you from believing in your desires. yeah, it’s going to be painful and uncomfortable. but you need to face the pain that you’re running away from, so that it can finally be released. you have to realize, it only stayed true because you believed it to be true. and if you are to live a life free from that story, and experience a more desirable story, then you must let the pain go. give yourself love and grace as you work through it, and know that there is a more beautiful side of life that awaits for you to accept it in.

No One To Change But Self

There is Nothing to Forgive

How to Sit with Your Triggers

give yourself the time you need, it's not race. the love that you wish to experience exists, allow it in. 💖

#eiypo

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anarchistbitch · 3 years ago

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hi hi hiiiii

your taste? immaculate (im watching our flag means death as soon as it's holy week (it's a national holiday here)) im glad you enjoyed your rest despite how short it may have been, here's to hoping that you'll get another break soon

hills are pretty as long as i don't have to walk them lmao, it sounds really lovely btw :'3

my col got over very quickly, only lasted like a day and a half thankfully, mask mandates haven't been lifted here actually and i think what i got sick with was not sleeping well enough, letting night dew fall on me (idk if that's a thing outside here but they say that can make one sick) and then spending the rest of the day in the sun bc of a class, also im thankful the cold didnt last long bc i absolutely hate drinking warm water, maybe it's bc im from the coast and it's always hot as balls so i always drink ice water but i seriously hate drinking warm water and i know drinking cold water is bad when one's sick but that's one thing im completely childish about and cannot bring myself to do (sorry for the rant lmao)

camping was really so hilarious, i feel kinda bad for seri bc taesung could not care less about her in that way, taesung on the other hand has his plan working, haebom may not know that taesung is trying to hit on him, but he's falling anyway and re the firewood scene, i do agree <33

im on the floor crying every time im reminded that it's only 8eps, the world is so cruel, at least heartstopper is coming soon and i really do hope we get s2 them being adorable together kills me in the best way possible

at this point i dont have a sleep schedule, i sleep as much as i can, whenever i can *sigh* but im getting a small break soon, two weeks i think to holy week

you're going fully offline then?? cause rn we're just doing it for the classes that need it the most, theorical classes like history are still online for us

i only have two classes offline so there's not much schedule to memorize but after a certain point the routine will set into you and you'l be able to remember itwithout needing to read the schedule and get you jshk wallpaper!

they were soaked in the river of talent much like achilles in the styx i swear to fuck, and their songs hit so hard, i cannot listen to lie by jimin without feeling literal chills, and dionysus is my go to pick me up bc as soon as it plays i want to dance and scream the lyrics, it fills me with so much energy, rumor has it they'll be releasing some new songs soon and i cant wait :'3

holy roller is neat indeed, i really liked it! my own rec is emily by san fermin

arroz con pollo 🤝 biryani

discourse about how to make it that is ultimately useless bc mom's the best

i hope they do watch it!! im also trying to get more people to watch it, i need to see it succeed, and yes! yasmin is stunning, im sure she'll do Elle right :'3

i havent watched turning red yet bc im gonna watch it with a friend and our schedules havent aligned yet, it's hard to coincide when we're on different majors and specially when those majors are one a trimester career and the other a semester one but everything i've heard about it is good things! i also saw the 4 town in universe guide thingie around here and we laughed bc Jesse having two kids reminded us of the 'theories' that RM is married to that one guy from his pics, and that they have a kid together im laughing as i type this bc skdlfkdfhfjsdf

promare is such a beauty, visuals and audio are absolutely stunning, i hope you like it!

jfhgjhgkjsj battinson is such an inspiration, his makeup 👌🏻✨ a friend and i were talking about going to the movies to watch it again but he's got all his classes on the day that im free and when he's free i have class at 5pm so we'd come out too late and im too akward to ask him to take me home, not to mention that i doubt my parents would like me being out until 9pm with a guy they dont know, ah the pains of being female presenting in a latinamerican country

thanks for the tws!! i dont think any of that would bother me but it's always good to have a warning, i also saw it was a sequel, should i watch the first one??

hjfsfjdf i get heart eyes everytime i see you've replied 🥰

sending you lots of love and hugs and i hope you have a nice, relaxing weekend!! stay hydrated and eat lots of good food!!

HIIIIIIIII💗💗💗💗💗

OMG OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH!!!! it started out as a fun comedy show and now has my whole heart like the acting?? the crew dynamic?? it being found family🥺🥺🥺🥺[and whoever made blackbeard's beard. god bless].

bro im literally christian and still forgot that holy week is coming up😭[🧍‍♂️ my baptism is in two months too....]. anyway hope you enjoy your week off!!

i really love hills so much cause the scenery and yk when you do a long trek and your so freaking tired but then you go to the top and see the view and its like "oh" and the entire trek was completely worth it because you get to see the world in a completely new perspective and its just. mindblowing right?

im glad it wasnt smth more serious and not in the exact terms but i think it is a thing here too. stay safe tho!! dude i grew up near the coast too!! the summer months were hell and it still is kinda where i live but its milder here . for now😭. until its summer my mom BANS making ice cubes/ ice water cause i get sick easily and im more used to drinking hot water cause of that. BESTIE I LOVE RANTS ILY PLS DONT HESITATE TO TALK TO ME🗣🔊🔊🔊!!

im waiting until thursday to watch ep5 cause *gestures at schoolwork* but the way taesung had that one picture of them as kids in his wallet🥺🥺🥺 childhood friends to lovers trope is so *clenches hand*

the way april for me is literally scheduled around schoolwork and the release of my fav series💗 ALSO . are you gonna watch kinnporsche!!! i saw the first trailer a while ago and 😳😳 and the final trailer too,,

my daily routine atm is just: sleep->study->school-> scroll on tumblr and boy is it tiring. im trying to early bird kills the worm and all but im just tired tired tired about it. but bro you gotta sleep properly!! you already got a cold!! at least 7 minimum per day!!

we went fully offline and its better in a way but the commute with my heavy ass math book is so grueling like my math book is SO fucking thick im literally carrying my other textbooks in my hand so i dont pull my back T T

theres a new schedule coming out so i just wrote down my schedule on my journal and changed my wallpaper into a whale one(its purple. like smth else.kfbrhoi i hope you get it)

theyre collabing with THE snoop dog AND ITS SO *excited noises* and bighit said theyre not confirming right now so we know its basically confirmed. i was watching bts american hustle and it literally amazes me cause their talent comes from a place of hardwork and practice and they keep improving each comeback and that thing about other artists pushing their schedules when bts perform like theyre on another level entirely btw ur feelings on ddaeng ?

emily by san fermin was nice!! but the song's cover reminded me of this one horror book and listening to it with a horror vibe😳 changed everything .

arroz con pollo🤝🏾biryani 🤝🏾 us eating our mom's food while everyone else argues about

i cannot wait to see heartstopper and yasmin finney! is !so ! freaking! beautiful!!

no see the thing is I get it okay. i get the hype for 4*town. like if i was in the turning red universe i'd undoubtedly be a fan of them[and everyone having nobody like u on their on repeat *victoria justice voice*i think we are ALL 4*townies][also one of the members being based off jimin is so *waves hands around* like they didnt say it out loud but we all knew]

halloween outfits this year is gonna be lit🖤 hope you get to watch it battinson soon!! i feel you about parents being weird with other male friends😔

its not exactly a sequel its more just inspired by(they have the same actors) i havent watched it but its a hindi remake of the tamil film that i have watched(its basically about a guy trying to find solutions for his erectile dysfunction.yes you did read that correctly) . theyre both thematically very different movies with no context dependent on e/o so you dont need to watch but if you wanted to i did hear it was p good.

placing good vibes, good health and lots of free time forward in ur way (u cant refuse i put a clause in the T&C)

#m for mwah!!#sorry for posting it so late!!!

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anythingandeverything1d · 4 years ago

Text

Heart Attack

“Hey.”

“Hey? That’s it? That’s all you're going to say?”

“Harry...”

“Whatever. This was stupid. You shouldn't be here. Neither should I.”

“But yet here we both are.”

“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Haz-” “No. Stop. Don’t call me that. You don’t get that right anymore. Im done with this. I never should have come.”

“Harry stop. Please. I miss you. I-I never should’ve left... Just let me explain.”

1 MONTH AGO:

“Stop!” you shrieked as Harry picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Harry!” He fell back into the couch with a laugh, you landing perfectly in his lap. Both of you were out of breath, Harry nuzzled his nose into your neck and you smiled, turning his head to yours and pressing your lips against his. It was the first night in almost 2 months that Harry had been home. You ran your hand across his cheek and sighed.

“Whats wrong?”

“I just missed you...” you bushed his hair out of his face. “I feel like we haven't had any time together.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Things with writing just got really crazy...and then the album release..”

“Yeah..I know. It still sucks though.” Harry smiled and kissed your nose. “I’m glad we at least have now. And you won't be leaving anytime soon so we can settle back into a routine.” You kissed him, wanting something more to follow.

Harry pulled away with a guilty expression. “Actually, I only have a month or so to stay before I start my tour for the new album...”

You blinked looking into his green eyes full of regret. “What?”

“Well we decided to do a full tour for the album and we decided to push it forward a bit....you know keep the excitement and everything up.”

“Oh.” You climbed off his lap and stood up, pacing the room. “You were waiting to tell me this because?”

“I just wanted to wait and do it in person....I didn’t want to cause any extra stress.”

“Harry you literally promised we would have time together after the album was done...remember?”

“Yeah I know but I don't have a choice right now....this is what I do.”

“So we are just going to go back to a long distance relationship..Is that all we will ever be to you?”

“No-No of course not babe...You know I love you.”

You bit your lip holding back tears. Harry was trying to think of what to say to make things better but in your mind there was nothing that could fix this. “Harry you haven't even spent more than a week consecutively with me. We- we haven't even had time to relax. We were supposed to have that now.”

“Well we will for the next few weeks...We can make this work. You can come with me-”

“I have a job Harry. My dream job. I can’t just quit to tour with you..I don't want to be something you only come home to on the weekends. I want you to want this. To want a future together. A family.”

“I do.”

“Are you sure? It doesn't seem like it?”

Harry looked up, tears in his eyes. “What do you want me to do? What can I do to fix this...Quit the tour?”

“No. I’m not going to ask you to give up on your dream. I’m not going to take away something you love....”

“Then what? Just tell me what I can do..”

You sucked in a breath and wiped a tear from your eye. Crossing your arms you stood there for a minute. “I think we should just be friends...”

“(y/n).”

“No. I’m serious. I love you Harry...but I cant do this anymore. I need a break. I need to figure out what I want. I need to figure out if I can even make this work anymore.”

“Babe-”

“No I’m sorry.” You knelt down and kissed his lips hard. Your tears on his lips and his on yours. “I want to figure out what I can handle. I don't want to feel like I come second to you anymore..”

“Youre not second I swear.”

“I just need time okay?” You kissed him again and sighed. “I love you, but this isn't working...” You stood up and walked out to your car, gasping for air and trying to collect yourself through the sobs as you drove home.

It had take a few weeks. You had taken a while to get over the pain of leaving Harry. Your heart ached. You felt sick to your stomach when you saw anything about him. You slept in his hoodies every night and questioned if you had made the wrong decision but you also knew that you couldn't continue with how things had been moving. So eventually, after those first few weeks, you had pulled yourself together and agreed on a causal blind date with a friend of a friend. You had gotten dressed in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair down and makeup done. You weren't ready to date anyone...but you did want to try and move on...try to get back into a normal social routine. So here you were, entering the club late on a Saturday night. Of course you walk in and your eyes immediately rest on the green eyes you knew too well.

Harry’s POV:

Harry felt sick to his stomach. Watching (y/n) walk out of his life that night was burned into his brain. He almost didn’t believe you when you said you wanted to be friends...He couldnt believe it. He loved you more than anything. You had gotten him through long nights away, writing the new album. You had been the one he called when he couldnt sleep. You had supported him through everything and yet now you were leaving? Saying you needed space? What was that about? The first few nights he hadn't slept. He just paced around the house, tossed and turned in bed, and barely ate. Things got a little better when plans for the tour started evolving and shaping. He had gotten into a better routine, one where you weren't involved. When some of the band had suggested going out to a club, he had said no. He didn’t want to be around other girls. He was secretly still holding out for you. Of course, the guys had practically dragged him there anyway. He sat at the bar, a drink in his hand. He was watching people walk in and out. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular but when his eyes landed on yours, he froze. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like he was going to pass out. Your eyes were glued to his, until the guy behind you grabbed your shoulder and pushed you towards the bar opposite of his, your eyes reluctantly leaving his.

Harry put a hand over his chest. “You okay mate?” Mitch asked concerned. “Youre looking a little pale.”

“I’m trying to be okay, I’m trying to be alright but man. It hurts.”

Mitch followed his gaze to you. “Harry she's no good for you. Look what she's done to you, I mean you barely ate. You weren't sleeping.”

“It doesn’t feel right though. She shouldn't be with another guy. She should be here with me. She was the one. She was the only thing I’ve ever wanted in my life.. ”

“Harry.” Adam cut in. “You're just too blind to see how much she's messed you up this time.. Youre way better off now that she's gone.”

“Im trying. Im trying so hard to be better now.”

“I’m glad. Do you want to leave?”

“It feels like I’m having a heart attack. Ugh” Harry gripped his chest and leaned back into the bar.

“It’s probably a panic attack...” Adam corrected. “We should probably go.”

“No. No- I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Harry’s gaze fell back to you. You looked incredible. Dressed perfectly. Harry just wished he was the one kissing your cheek, telling you that you looked beautiful and that you didn't need the extra make up. He wanted to be the one with his hands around your waist. Who even is this guy? Why are you even moving on so quickly?

Harry stood up from the bar and smiled. “I’m just going to have a wee, I’ll be back.” Mitch and Adam looked uncertain but nodded and ordered another drink. Harry wandered to the bathroom. He stood by the door waiting. Within a few minutes you had wandered over, probably to check your hair. Harry causally bumped you as you were exiting and you looked up. His eyes met yours and his heart skipped a beat. He felt his chest tighten and his heart beat irregularly. “(y/n)...”

Your POV:

You looked up at him. His hair was trimmed, but perfectly pushed back in a wave. His green eyes were frantically searching yours and his hand was pressed lightly over his chest. He moved to step away but you grabbed his wrist quickly. “Wait. Can we talk?”

“I-I don't know...”

“Harry please.”

“Fine. Meet me outside in an hour.” You nodded and he walked away. Your heart was rushing and heat flooded your cheeks and your body. You hadn't reacted that way since you had last seen him and it made you smile. You entertained your date for a bit, but your mind was always on Harry. How he was doing, what you were going to say. Truthfully you wanted to tell him how much you missed him. You wanted him to know you made a mistake. But you also didn't know anything about what his life had been like and dint want to interrupt something he had with someone else...kind of like the media had said. After an hour passed, you wandered outside, waiting for Harry in the dark alley, a light rain drizzling over your body.

PRESENT DAY:

“Explain what? How you left? How, out of nowhere you said you wanted to be friends? How you said you didn’t know what you wanted?”

“Harry I swear I-”

“Then, you show up with some random ass guy tonight, only shortly after breaking up with me?”

“No- well yes but thats not how it is.”

“Then how is it? Do tell me (y/n).” Harry was pissed.

“I made a mistake okay? I should have stayed with you. I love you Harry. I always have and I always will. I left because I wasnt sure how to feel...I felt you were always putting me in second to your music. I know its important to you but you rarely called, you rarely spent time at home with me...I just felt like it was one way. And I get it, I left. I walked away. But I regretted it the second I did it...I just needed time to really figure it out. And I have now okay? You are my dream. I know I have a great job and I love it but I love you more. I want to be with you and if that means touring with you and selling my house and quitting my job just to follow you around the world I will. I need you. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your everything.”

Harry’s mouth dropped. He stepped towards you. It looked like tears were dripping down his cheeks, but you couldn't tell if it was that or the rain. His wet hair dripped in front of his face and he brushed it back before closing the remaining space between you. His lips collided with yours. He was patient for a second before biting down hard on your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you like his life depended on it and if that were the last thing you had of him, you would die happy. “I love you.” he whispered against your lips.

“You do?” You leaned your head back, cupping his cheeks in your hands and staring into his eyes.

“I am in love with you (y/n). Seeing you here, tonight, with that other guy. It didn't feel right. I wanted to be him, his hands on you, dancing with you...” Harry’s hands slid to your waist. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. I mean look at you. Fuck.”

“You don't hate me?”

“I have never hated you.” His lips pressed to yours again, this time more gently. “Come with me. I want you on tour with me.”

You kissed him, your hands tangling into his hair. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You kissed him hard, pulling his lips back with yours. “Take me with you and don't ever let go.”

“I won't. I promise.”

---

Hope you all like this! Let me know what you think! xoxo

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #one direction #directioners #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb

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ghouls-dream · 5 years ago

Note

Hopefully you are still taking requests, I've been too scared to send one in. I'm sorry if this is a bit vague. I love your work💞 Can I request a smutty imagine where y/n teases dewdrop by flirting with the other ghouls just to see how angry she can get him and she ends up in deep trouble with him?

Hello, sweetheart! Firstly - thank you so much for the kind words! And secondly - im so glad you got the "courage" to ask, haha. Filth is on the way! I hope you like it 🖤

Jealous Dew x Reader one-shot (WARNING!!! HELLA NSFW, 18+)

Dew's POV

"Oh, darn it!" Rain scoffed as he saw how one of his striped balls hit the corner of the pocket, but not getting in. "Hell yeah!" I jumped happily, going near the pool table and looking at the balls' position. We loved playing pool, especially after big rituals like tonight's. That was like a routine for us. Well the ghouls mostly - The ghoulettes had their own way of relaxing, and Cardinal always prefered binge-watching "Friends" instead of having fun with us. Sometimes it fel like he was Nihil's lost son - I can't say Copia was boring, but he was quite introverted at times.

"Don't get too upset, Rain. Maybe Mr. "Pay back time" will fail. You have luck you're not playing with me" Aether teased me as I smirked, pointing with the pool stick at him "I can take all of you!". "Everyone knows that, slut!" Swiss called out from the back as he drank his beer. I rolled my eyes, due to their laughter, and tried to ignore it. After that I bent over the table, position myself to hit the white ball in front of me when I heard the door opening... Just before I was about to hit it, my eyes focused on a very particular feminine figure... Y/N. What the fuck was she doing here?!

Y/N POV

It was the night after a ritual, which automatically meant no sleeping for any of us! Well, at least Papa's witches. Why? Because our rooms were one wall apart from the Ghoul's playroom. All of us hated that - including Cumuls and Cirrus, who prefered a ladies night with us and the Sisters of sin. The Ghouls were just too loud. Especially when there was alcohol in the whole picture and tonight... Tonight there was a lot!

I looked around the sleeping girls, tossing myself again and sighed. I couldn't fall asleep, Swiss' voice was keeping me awake as well Dew's loud banging on the pool table, so I just decided to get up, put on my black lacy dress and go see what the boys were doing. Maybe even asking them to keep it a little bit more quiet. Some of us had a morning praise at 5am! And besides... I wouldn't mind seeing them. Since all of us were friends and there was no "I'm superior" barreier between us.

I walked out of the room, feeling how the slight wind was touching my skin as I grabbed the playroom's lock. Before I pushed it, I heard Swiss' voice calling someone "slut". My mind automatically connected that with Dewdrop as I smirked and let my filthy thoughts invade my brain.

As I entered the room, all of the boys turned to me. They looked shocked. Especially Rain who I could tell even felt emberassed by my look. The lacy black dress was thin enough to cover my whole body, but it was also a little bit transparent. "Weren't you supposed to be sleeping?" Mountain asked, before taking a sip from his drink and then offering me some. I refused of course and responded sarcastically "Well we all were, but some smartass decided to put your playroom next to our bedroom. Do the math". "I told you guys" Aether pointed out as I felt Dew's eyes scanning every bit of my body. He was in the middle of a shot I can tell, by his position, but he obviously gave up doing it. He stood up, leaning against the stick and growled "So what? It's not like you listen to it every night". I chuckled at his response and sat next to Swiss, who was half-laying on the red couch next to the pool table. His hand was put on the backrest as he looked over me and raised an eyebrow "So noise brings you here? It's not something or someone else?" I heard the boys' "oohs" as I smirked at him, bitting my lip and shrugged. "You never know" - I said seductively before turning my head towards Dew. His eyes were burning with... Anger? Also I wouldn’t want to be the stick he was holding. The ghoul's grip around it was almost enough to break it in half. I could tell my his knuckles, turning white. 'Or maybe I'd like to be' my mind whispered to myself. "Won't you finish the shot?" I asked, raising my eyebrow as Aether laughed "Yeah, man. I'm getting sleepy". Dewdrop rolled his eyes, positioning himself again. His swift body movements were enchanting.

Finally the white ball hit the red one in front of it, but no luck. "Ooh, so close dude!" Mountain pointed out as Dew sighed. 'Do it! Come on!' my mind encoureged me to do the thing I've been thinking about since the moment I entered the room. I knew that it wouldn't end well, one way or another, but I couldn't care less at this point. I got up from my seat, looking at Rain who was obviously confused on how to move on with the position of the balls on the table. Before becoming part of the Church actually, I really enjoyed gaming nights with my friends - doesnt matter what type of game we'd play. I always enjoyed them. "Need help?" I smirked at the Water ghoul who shurgged his arms and gave me the stick. "That's not by the rules!" Dew's voice filled the room. I could feel he was getting angry. I raised my eyebrow and asked seductivly, before taking Rain's stick - "And since when do YOU play by the rules?". After those words I heard another set of "oohs" before, bending over in front of Rain. I could deffinitely tell he wasn't feeling the most comfortable in that position, since my butt was touching his front, for which I felt kinda bad, but I was enjoying every bit of it since Dewdrop's anger was growing. "Have you been working out lately?" Swiss joked as I turned to him chuckling and winked back at him, answering his joke with my own "Wanna find out?".

We actually stayed in the room for almost another hour of jokes and laughter, before Aether got in charge and as being the most responisble one of the group asked us all to go to bed. I wouldn't have refused anyway, I was tired. "Yeah, I'll see you guys tomorrow" I whispered yawning, as we all started walking out of the room, before feeling someone's hand gripping my waist and preventing me from escaping. I quickly turned around before hearing the door closing behind me, as Dew stared into my eyes. " 'Wanna find out!?' Seriously!?" he hissed against my lips before crushing his onto mine. His fingers found their way into my hair as he gripped it, which caused my head to tilt back slightly, exposing my neck to him. "Are you jealous?" I teased. "Am I jealous?! I'm fucking furious, Y/N! Do you not remember the time backstage? Or the 'please don't tell Imperator about this' situation in her office?! I'm gonna make you pay, girly!" Dewdrop whispered against my ear as I felt my kneese getting weaker, with every touch he made over my body. Next to the other ghouls, he was indeed shorter, but I wasn't them. Dew was almost a head above me. His teeth found his way to my most senstive part on my neck and bit it gently, before sucking it harder. I gasped by his action, before whimpering "Fuck yes...". He wasn't even trying to be gentle at this point and every part of my body loved that! His fingers made their way to my lady parts, feeling the wetness over them as he whispered "So you'd let Swiss try this out, but not me? Wrong...". After those words I felt how his index entered me, followed by his middle finger. I didn't even have time to react i just grabbed his shoulders and moaned, as he moved them faster and faster. "Did you like bending over Rain?" he groaned against my neck, before sucking on the same spot as before. This time i felt a small wave of pain, which made me whimper. "Answer me! Did.. You... Like it?!" Dew's voice was filled with sexual rage. "Yes!" I cried out as I opened my eyes and saw him smirking, before saying "Let's see how you'd like this then". His fingers quickly escaped my body as I sealed my lips with his own, as I felt himleading me towards the pool table. His tongue was fighting for dominance in my mouth and I gladly gave him what it wanted.

After that breathtaking kiss Dew spun me around, so I was in the same position as with Rain. My heart was going to explode in my chest, my pulse was pumping so hard I felt like fainting from all the adrenaline. Before I could make up my mind I heard a belt, being unbuckled, and soon after that a firm smack on my bare butt. Dew came once again next to my ear and whispered "I'll make you regret every single thing you did that night". After those words I felt a sweet pain rushing through my body, causing me to moan loudly. He made a few thrust inside as i grabbed the wooden side of the pool table. His hand found its way in my hair once again, before gripping it tightly and pulling my body next to his. "Dew..." I moaned louder as his other hand grabbed my neck and squeezed it gently. "Yes, Y/N?" he whispered breathless into my ear, before bitting my neck again. His movements were becoming even faster as I felt that the end of both of us was close. "Tell me how much you love this... Say it!" his voice filled the room as I shouted, panting "I love it how you fuck me! Dew... Im... Please...". Few more thrust were made into me, as I felt the pleasure building inside my lower stomach. Dew then kissed my lips roughly before bitting the lower one and whispered "Come... Now!". I was more than happy to release the pleasurable tension inside me as my voice filled the room. His grip also let go of me as I heard my name escaping his mouth before feeling one final thrust. After that there was just mine and his unstable, deep breathing... Nothing more, nothing less. We were both a sweaty, aroused mess at this point and it never felt better!

Soon after I was able to come back to reality I felt his lips brushing against my bare shoulder. This time it was tender, gentle and sensual. It had nothing to do with what just happened. "Y/N... Stop driving me crazy like this. Not that I don't like it, but... I was about to beat the shit out of both Rain and Swiss" he whispered as I chuckled and turned my head to him, kissing him gently, before whispering back "My dorky firecracker..."

#the nameless ghouls #aether #dewdrop #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #rain #ghost #swiss #the band ghost #ghouls #mountain #ghoul #one shot #one-shot #smut #dewdrop ghoul

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all-the-lovely-newsies · 5 years ago

Text

What a Moment Can Do (Chapter Four)

What A Moment Can Do (Chapter Four)

Chapter One / On Ao3

Chapter Two / On Ao3

Chapter Three / On Ao3

Thank you guys for all the support!!

Summary: Crutchie visits Snyder

Triggers: Child Abuse, Pain, Blood, Verbal abuse, Physical Abuse, Swearing (please tell me if I forgot anything), Verbal Ableism (just one word I think)

(OR READ ON Ao3)

Crutchie did his best to stay upright as the guard dragged him down the long hallway. Doors lined the walls, taunting him, reminding Crutchie of just home many children called this place home. And if each room was as full as his- he shuddered- trying to push the thoughts away.

The hallway was unnaturally quiet for one that occupied so many children. Only the creaking of floorboards and the occasional scream or cry from behind one of the doors proving he wasn’t alone. With each scream, Crutchie winced and his mind wandered to all the possible reasons for the outbursts. Suddenly, the guard grabbed his shirt and gave it a quick yank, causing him to fly forward.

“Would ya quit hoppin’ and hurry up. I ain’t got all day,” the guard sneered. Crutchie just glared at the guard and continued to hop, which earned him a swift cuff to the back of the head. “I said stop hoppin’, you ain’t a rabbit”

“I can’t!” Crutchie snapped, sharper than he intended. He was rewarded by being thrown against the ground, a rippling pain shooting up his leg and hip.

“You’ll learn to shut your damn trap and show some respect, boy,” the guard jeered and stomped his boot straight into his ribs. He then lifted Crutchie back up by his collar so they were at eye level. “You’re lucky we’re on a time crunch here, ‘cause I can do a lot worse than that.”

(OR READ ON Ao3)

Crutchie swallowed deeply and nodded. “I uh, I need my crutch. Can’t walk without it.” The guard just let out a huff in response and proceeded to drag Crutchie down the hall. After a couple of turns, they stopped at a door with a plaque nailed to the top that read: Donald Snyder- Warden. Crutchie took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his heart that was about to leap out of his chest. The guard seemed to notice the change in demeanor and chuckled before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” came a deep voice from the other side of the door. The guard opened the door and Crutchie’s eyes went wide. The room was much nicer than any room he’d seen before. A large, wooden desk was situated in the middle of the room, covered in papers and trinkets, a bookcase and file cabinet behind it, and a singular wooden chair sat in front of the desk. Snyder raised his eyes from the booklet he was writing in. “Ah, Brooks, it’s about time.” Brooks shoved Crutchie forward and force him into the chair.

“Sorry boss, the kid’s slow as they come. Says ‘e can’t walk right or somethin’,” Brooks placed a hand roughly on Crutchie’s shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Well, boy?”

“I can’t,” he stated through gritted teeth, “I need my crutch.” Snyder’s eyebrows furrowed but then came to a realization.

“Ah, right. You’re the crippled kid.”

“I ain’t a-!” Crutchie yelled and promptly received a backhand and a glare from Brooks. Snyder’s disposition remained calm as he reached under his desk and came up with a crutch in hand. Crutchie’s heart sunk a bit when he saw a dark brown stain covering one side of it.

“I’d watch your mouth, boy”

“And I’d watch where ya put yer hands, ya schmuck,” Crutchie retorted and pulled his shoulder out of the guard’s grip. Brooks growled but didn’t respond as Snyder held his hand up.

“I don’t have time for this right now. You’ve already put me behind schedule and I gotta get to lunch,” Snyder pulled out a loosely bound book and flipped it open. Crutchie noticed the long list of names that were smudged and crudely written across the page, each accompanied by a chicken scratch signature and some other information he couldn’t make out. “Gotta name, boy?”

“Crutchie.” Snyder looked up from his book.

“Got a real name?”

Crutchie shrugged, “’s the only name I respond to.” Snyder mumbled something about ‘stupid street rats’ but scribbled the name down anyway.

“Last name?”

“Morris.” He wrote it down.

“Age?” Crutchie hesitated. He’d lied about his age for so long that the actual number evaded him. Apparently he took too long to respond because he received another cuff to the back of the head.

“Fifteen,” he spat out. Snyder nodded and scribbled down the information. The room stayed eerily silent for a while as he filled out more information.

“Sign here,” Snyder flipped his book around and handed Crutchie a pen. Crutchie leaned in closer to the desk to write something that resembled his name, he knew the basics of reading and writing, but with little practice, his handwriting was barely legible. As he was writing he glanced at the side of the desk and noticed a copy of The Sun. Upon closer inspection, his eyes lit up at the headline ‘Newsies Stop the World’, it read, accompanied by a large black and white picture of the faces he knew all too well. Before he realized what he was doing Crutchie smiled, let out a laugh, and grabbed the paper.

“Wouldya look at that?” he pointed to the picture, “That’s me! And-and-and Jack and everyone! We did it, Jack did it, I can’t believe it!” If Crutchie were to have looked up from the paper, he would have seen Snyder’s eyes widen with interest.

“These boys, they’re your friends?” His voice was deceivingly friendly.

“They’se my brothers.” Crutchie analyzed every inch of that paper. The way Jack stood proud and strong, the smiles worn by Blink and Mush who were beaming ear to ear, Race’s cigar clenched between his fingers and held high above his head. The one moment where everything was going right. The calm before the storm. The storm. Crutchie’s smile quickly snapped to a frown as he flicked his head up to meet Snyder’s eyes that held a spark and whose lips were curled into a wicked smile.

“So you’re close with these boys, huh? Especially that Jack. Jack Kelly, he and I go way back as well, y’know.” Crutchie could feel a lump gather in his throat. His hands that still gripped the paper and pen began to uncontrollably shake and he made an attempt to escape from the chair, only to be restrained by Brooks. “Well?”

“N-no sir, I’se-um-neva seen dem in me life. It’s this brain of mine. Has a mind of it’s own,” he stuttered out.

“Hmm, well,” an odd sweetness lined each of Snyder’s words, “why don’t you take that paper with you and maybe Brooks here can help jog your memory. Whatdya say Brooks?” Brooks smiled maliciously and nodded.

“Yes, sir I think that can be arranged.”

“I don’t know if I’d trust him sir, as he can’t even tie ‘is shoes right,” Crutchie tried to snap back in an attempt to regain some confidence. He turned around to see Brooks glancing down at his feet.

“You little.”

“Take it outside Brooks,” Snyder tossed the crutch at Crutchie, frowning a bit when he caught it. “I need my lunch.”

Brooks’ face turned beet red but nodded and forced Crutchie up and out the door. Crutchie gripped onto his crutch, glad to finally be able to get around on his own again. He took another look at the newspaper and wished that he could be with the boys again. What he wouldn’t give to hear Race and Albert’s bickering in the morning or to sit up on the rooftop with Jack, listening to his fantasies of Santa Fe. He’d love to hear just about anything other than the crippling silence of the hallway, broken up only by the clicking of his crutch.

In a moment he regretted thinking that as Brooks roughly shoved Crutchie up against the wall by his throat. His crutch went clattering to the ground as he focused his efforts on grabbing the arm that was constricting his breathing.

“I’ve had just about enough of you boy,” Brooks snarled, “You and that kid you see to care about so much.”

“Don’t…you hurt… ‘im” Crutchie managed to gasp out. He looked up just in time to see Brooks’ fist connect with his eye causing pain to ripple through his skull.

“You may think you’re tough, boy, but you haven’t seen half of what I’m capable of, and I’ll do it with pleasure. So keep running your mouth, keep testing me. I’d love to see what happens, especially now that I have the blessings from the boss. I will break you, oh ho I’ll break you, and I’ll love every minute of it. So I’d wipe that smug look of yours right off before I do it for you.” He gave Crutchie one more good shake before releasing him. Crutchie slumped against the wall, heaving and gasping for air.

“Get up.”

Propping himself against his crutch he gathered up the newspaper and followed Brooks back to the room. Crutchie glanced back down at the newspaper, he had to remind himself why he had to be strong, why he was doing this. He was so distracted that he didn’t realize when Brooks stopped in front of the door and shoved him inside.

Immediately Crutchie’s heart sunk as the door slammed behind him. A large group of boys surrounded the area where he left Eddy. He rushed past the group, ignoring the grumbles of protest as he shoved by. Crutchie winced at the sight, Eddy was curled in a ball, furiously coughing and spitting up blood next to him. There wasn’t even an attempt at getting his sleeve. Ten-Pin, who was kneeling next to the young boy, glanced up at Crutchie and shook his head slowly as he gently placed the back of his hand against Eddy’s forehead.

Crutchie slumped down next to Ten-Pin and looked at him anxiously.

“ ‘e ain’t looking too good. But ‘es been asking for you.” Crutchie nodded and leaned back against the wall, pulling Eddy into his lap. Ten-Pin let the two be and did his best to shoo away the crowd.

“Crutchie?” The voice came out strained just above a whisper.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here,” Crutchie’s voice shook. Eddy looked up at him and pointed at the newspaper.

“What’s that?” Crutchie held out the paper so he could see.

“It’s the newsies. We made it in the papes. Can ya believe it?” Eddy’s eyes lit up but instead of responding, he quickly turned away and let out another string of coughs, stray blood speckling Crutchie’s pants. The young boy whimpered and curled tighter into a ball.

“Look here,” Crutchie tried to distract him and pointed at himself in the paper,

“There’s me, and- and Jack and Race and Les- ‘es about your age- and Davey,” he continued down the line of brothers.

Eddy smiled, “Finch is the one who was afraid of the bird, right?”

Crutchie couldn’t help but laugh. “Yup, that’s him. You were listenin’ huh?”

Eddy giggled, “ A course! What a- what does the pape say?”

Crutchie took a breath, in all honesty, he didn’t get a chance to read it himself. He glanced at the headline, “Newsies Stop the World” he read aloud, “With all eyes fixed on the trolley strike, another battle brews in the city-”

“ You’se like those fancy guys in shiny uniforms. A real battler,” a voice perked up from the room.

“It’s soldier, idiot,” another proclaimed.

Crutchie’s eyes snapped up to see that he had once again gained an audience. A handful of boys were either sitting cross-legged or leaning in from their beds to get a piece of the information. The one who spoke up puffed out his chest, “My Pa was a soldier. Had a shiny medal and ev’rything.”

“Yeah? And what’d good that do ya? Ya still in here ain’t’cha?” piped up the boy sitting next to him. The first boy turned to punch the other and soon there was a scuffle on the floor. A ruckus quickly followed and a guard had slammed on the door to quiet them. When the two boys didn’t stop Fives came over from his bunk.

“Woah, hold on there Private!” Fives sneered pulled the two boys apart. “What we don’t need in here is us fighting each other, got that?” he stared straight at the boys and they quickly nodded.

“Sorry, Fives” they chorused.

“Now, I’m sure this kid’ll finish the article if you idiots would be quiet.” Fives cuffed the back of both boys’ heads and nodded towards Crutchie. Crutchie opened his mouth to thank him but was quickly silenced by a glare from the older boy. “Well”

Crutchie cleared his throat, “Uh- ehem- A modern-day David posed to take on the rich and powerful Goliath, Jack Kelly stands ready to beat the behemoth, Pulitzer,” he continued and was uninterrupted for the rest of the article.

By the time Crutchie finished many of the boys had lost interest, but Eddy’s eyes stayed fixed on Crutchie, clinging on to every word.

“Jack seems really amazing,” he whispered through a cough.

Crutchie sighed, “Yeah, he is. He really is. I miss him.”

“You could write him a letter.”

“Huh?”

“A letter, y’know. Sometimes my Ma would write ‘em to my Grams cause she lives cross da ocean. You could write Jack one, and we could give it ta ‘im.”

Crutchie smiled at the boy’s innocence. “ Sure Eddy, I think that’s a great idea.” He flipped through the paper until he got to a page with some blank space.

“You ready?” Eddy nodded. “Dear Jack,” Crutchie started, reading aloud as he wrote, “Greetings from the Refuge.”

TAGLIST:: (Let me know if you want to me added or removed)

@romeo-in-a-trenchcoat @klaineharmony @americasfavoritefightingthot @stripeconlon @jd-sammy @wingedprunepsychiclawyer @nerdgirl453 ( @waitin-makes-me-antsy

#Newsies #Newsies fanfiction #Newsies fics #Moment Fic #Crutchie #Crutchie Newsies #Newsies Live #DustyWrites #What a Moment Can Do #tw:Physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #tw: blood #tw: ableism

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vitanes · 5 years ago

Text

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 15: truth or dare

Lucas makes peace with himself, finally learns the whole truth about Eliott and realises that family is all the friends we’ve made along the way. Oh, and also gets a boy.

(a/n: so we’ve reached the end of this story. if anyone had told me id write over 80k words long story like a half year ago i wouldnt believe them but here i am. before writing for skam france, i had a long break but this show made me fall back in love with writing and no matter how detached i am from the series now, ill be always grateful for that. i want to thank every single person who’s ever liked, reblogged, commented or sent me an ask regarding the fic. im happy i could make you all feel something with my words thats my main goal as a writer. anyways, enough sappiness! enjoy the last part!)

Lucas knows that punching a guy when he isn’t alone is not the brightest idea, but it’s too late to think about it when his knuckles have already caused the damage. Buzzing with adrenaline, Lucas looks towards Tom. He’s backed away a few steps and is currently clutching onto his face. There’s blood running down from his nose.

There’s a wave of satisfaction hitting Lucas from all sides and it last exactly ten seconds before Tom’s friends are on him. One of them is holding Lucas by his shoulders while the other is glaring at him, coming way too close for Lucas’ liking.

He gulps, trying his best to maintain eye contact. He’s been crushed before because of how weak he was but this time he won’t let them hurt him without a fight. Not when he has every right to be furious in this situation.

The guy watches Lucas carefully, his eyes narrowed and after a few beats of silence, nods at the boy holding Lucas back. Much to Lucas’ surprise, he releases him.

“We don’t want trouble,” one of them says, looking meaningfully at all the people around them. Lucas follows his gaze and sighs. He was genuinely prepared to get beaten up again. Especially that they seemed like they wouldn’t care about the consequences.

But Lucas is still so full of anguish that he doesn’t know what to do with. He curls his fingers up into fists.

“I can’t let him get away with it,” Lucas grits out, his eyes downcast. They have no fucking idea what kind of hell he’s gone through because of Tom.

The boys look at each other, their faces troubled and then back to him. They still seem ready to stop Lucas from surging towards Tom. He can’t do anything in this case and it’s tearing him apart.

“Then don’t, but fighting won’t get you anywhere,” says the one that’s been previously holding Lucas. Look at them. Altruists.

Even when he wants to and has the occasion to get his revenge, Lucas can’t. And it’s unfair, isn’t it? He should be able to show Tom at least an ounce of the pain that was served to Lucas. After so many months, Lucas should be allowed to get back at him. But all he can do is stand there, helpless and trembling while they walk away, shielding Tom from him. That’s fucked up.

Once they’re out of sight, Lucas heaves out a deep breath and with it, the tears he’s been holding back start running down his cheeks. He’s crying out of frustration and anger because there’s no other way for those emotions to leave him. He can’t punch anyone or scream so all that’s left is crying. Right in the middle of the pavement, surrounded by people. Complete strangers that won’t even spare him a glance. Alone in his pain.

But he’s not alone, is he?

Lucas wipes his face with his sleeve and sniffs. There are people out there that care, that have his back no matter what. That’s what he’s learnt over the course of the last few months. No matter how much darkness is surrounding him, how lost he is, Lucas will find a way home.

Lucas is going to survive with the help of his friends, the family he’s made along the way. He’s been shown time and time again that he doesn’t have to face everything by himself.

That’s why he heads to the flat and when Mika sees the look on his face he doesn’t question Lucas reaching out for him.

Lucas hasn’t stopped fighting, it’s merely a break. He will go to the police tomorrow, he will handle everything. But now he’s bone-tired.

With no words said, Mika wraps his arms around Lucas and lets him rest.

“I know who blackmailed me,” Lucas mumbles into Mika’s shoulder and feels him tense.

“You do?” Mika asks, his voice breathy.

Lucas nods. “Is everyone in the living room?” Lucas can hear some muted noises but he isn’t sure whether it’s the girls or the TV.

“Yeah,” Mika lets out.

Lucas pulls away. “I want them to know, too,” he says. He’s gotten everyone too involved for him to keep it secret. At this point, he owes his friends that much.

“Of course,” Mika replies and nudges Lucas forward.

They enter the living room and their expressions must be rather grim because both Manon and Lisa stop chatting upon seeing them.

“Hi,” Lucas says, waving at them weakly before sitting down on the couch, next to Manon. Mika chooses his other side while Lisa is sitting comfortably in an armchair. “I found out who the blackmailer is. By accident.” He looks down on his hands. His right one still has some signs of what he’s done to it, but he long stopped bandaging it. Some fingers are a bit crooked, though.

“What?” Lisa asks.

“Who is it?” Manon sits up straighter.

Lucas snorts. “It’s a guy Yann and I were buying weed from. Last year. He just,” he shrugs, “wanted money for drugs. He got the pictures from someone else’s phone.” Lucas briefly glances at Manon, but she seems completely oblivious to it. So Daphne hasn’t said anything. Fine, he’s not going to, either. He has no energy to deal with this. “He didn’t have any ulterior motives. Fuck, he didn’t even plan to do it in the first place. I don’t…” he stops and drags a hand down his face. “…I don’t know if I’d rather have it be someone else, someone who hated me than this. It’s so fucking baffling that it wasn’t personal and yet I’ve been completely fucked over.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, letting out a shuddering breath.

Manon rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

“This dude is completely fucked up. How could he?” Lisa asks no one in particular.

“At least now you can rest. You know the whole truth,” Manon says, her voice calm even though Lucas can feel through his shirt that her hand is shaking.

“Yeah, I– I feel slightly lighter. But I can’t fucking do anything and it’s killing me. It’s like I’m about to explode,” Lucas confesses, putting his hand down on his knee.

Mika throws an arm over his shoulders and pulls him to his side.

“How about we go to the gym?” he suggests out of nowhere and when none of them say anything, he huffs. “It could help Lucas. It’s better if he doesn’t bottle it all up,” Mika reasons. Well, if he’s putting it that way.

Lisa opens her mouth to say something, but Mika beats her to it.

“Like a family activity?” he offers. They can’t say no to that, can they?

***

Going to the gym helps. Lucas was doubtful at first, but after two hours of intense exercise, his mind is much clearer. With his whole body aching and sweaty, he no longer wants to go out there and fight Tom. All he is craving is a shower and a nap.

Everything else will come later.

***

“I can’t fucking believe it was Tom,” Yann spits out, shaking his head. “What a fucking dick,” he adds.

Lucas has gone to the police and told them everything. He was assured they’d take care of everything and contact him sooner or later. It didn’t satisfy him a lot. He doesn’t think he’ll be truly satisfied until Tom faces real repercussions. And the police’s vague affirmations don’t tamper down his impatience. So he called Yann.

He told him the exact same story as he recalled to his flatmates, with maybe more details and Yann’s been cussing Tom out for the past ten minutes.

“Yeah, Daphne must have bumped into him, asked to call Imane and that’s how he got the pictures,” Lucas says in a detached tone.

“Damn. What now?”

Lucas shrugs. “I was told to wait. Not sure I can do it any longer but what other choice do I have?”

“I’m still so shocked you found out by simply overhearing. Like? How’s that even possible?” Yann asks, grimacing.

“I know, right? That’s what I mean when I say that coincidences don’t exist,” Lucas replies, looking straight ahead. He hides his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “But you know what?” He gazes up at Yann to find him already looking back. “I’m so fucking glad I know. It’s been gnawing at me for so long and I thought I’d never find out. I had no idea where to look, there were nearly no clues. I can finally focus on other things.” It’s awful that he can’t seek the revenge out on his own, sure, but simply knowing gives him more peace than anything. There are still so many things, issues that he has to work through and he bets it’ll be a long process. Having fewer things on his plate is beyond helpful.

Lucas can heal and grow, take his time for as long as he needs to without having this at the back of his mind all the time. He can push forward with no more secrets holding him back.

“You’re so strong and I’m proud of you, you know?” Yann says fondly and bumps his shoulder against Lucas’. Lucas smiles under his nose.

“Thank you. I have no idea where I’d be right now without you,” he admits in a small voice. Yann has been nothing but giving and Lucas will try to repay his kindness for the rest of their lives.

“I’m your best friend, aren’t I? I’m not going anywhere. I love you lots,” Yann says with an audible smile in his voice.

Lucas feels warm.

“I love you, too,” he replies, so fucking grateful for having Yann in his life. In a way, Lucas thinks, he saved his life.

Yann is his anchor, his safe place and Lucas is sure that he’d drown without him. He can only hope that Yann feels the same.

***

By Monday, Lucas has already talked with his friends and mom about the blackmailer. There’s only one person that doesn’t know and it’s Eliott. Truth be told, Lucas didn’t want to bother him with the news. He has no idea how Eliott is currently doing and he doesn’t want to force him into unwanted interactions. The time to tell him will come.

His friends have been all kinds of shocked and surprised, but the people who personally met Tom even more so. Emma briefly wanted to kill him and Yann shared the sentiment. But everyone agreed that it was about time. Or at least, mostly everyone. Lucas doesn’t know and has no intention of finding out what Daphne thinks about it.

“How do you feel?”

Lucas looks at Imane. “Better than in a long time,” he admits. She smiles at him.

They are going to the library, having decided to study together earlier. Lucas has expected questions like this, but he isn’t annoyed. He no longer has to hide his true feelings, he’s not burdened. And Imane asking him about his well-being means that she cares.

It’s funny to think that before all this mess started, Lucas and Imane were only friends by association. Merely greeted each other in hallways. In the span of the last few months, everything has changed and as of now, she’s one of his closest friends. An unexpected development in Lucas’ life.

He lost so much but he also gained a lot. And he’s not sure he deserves all of that, but he’s learning to accept good things nevertheless.

Imane is one of those people whose presence you want to keep around. Lucas doesn’t really know how to explain it and maybe he doesn’t have to. Perhaps, he can be simply happy about the fact that Imane wants him around, too. He shouldn’t question it. She’s a good person and an amazing friend. She’s both tough and soft as well as incredibly smart. Lucas admires her and can proudly call himself her friend.

“Good. You can try to catch up to me when it comes to grades,” she teases.

She’s also honest.

Lucas snorts and looks at her. “Are you sure you want that? I don’t want to make you sad,” he retorts, adjusting his backpack.

Imane rolls her eyes. “You wish. I just wanted to be nice. We both know you could never get on my level,” she states matter-of-factly.

“Watch me. The school year isn’t ov–“

Imane stops abruptly and Lucas glances at her in surprise. Her brows are drawn together and he follows her gaze.

Daphne is standing in their way. They look at her in confusion and mild irritation in Imane’s case. Lucas notices that she’s anxiously fidgeting in place. She must have followed them up until now.

“Do you want something?” Imane asks and her voice is devoid of the earlier playfulness. Lucas only now sees the strain Daphne’s acting made on the girls’ friendship. Imane has never been this cold towards her before.

“Can we talk for a minute? In private?” Daphne asks, staring at Lucas.

God, the audacity.

“No, I’m good here. If you have anything to say, say it,” Lucas tells her. He almost pities her. Almost.

“I just wanted to ask you if there was any way I could make what I did up to you. I know it was wrong, but I was hoping I could fix it somehow,” Daphne replies, holding tightly onto the strap of her bag.

“Are you for real?” Imane mutters under her breath.

The thing is, Lucas knows Daphne had no ill intentions and the guilt must be eating at her right now. Rightfully so. He’s aware that she never wanted to hurt him, but still. He can’t find it in himself to forgive so easily. Maybe if she had come immediately after the pictures were leaked, but as the things are at the moment, Lucas doesn’t even want to talk with her.

“How about you finally tell other people?” he says which instantly makes her clamp her mouth shut. “Besides, the only way you could make it up to me would be if you invented the time machine. Can you do that? Can you do that, Daphne?” Lucas asks and he can feel himself getting worked up, but he’s unable to stop. “We won’t be friends anytime soon. But if it only bothers you because you feel guilty, then just forget about it. I don’t care anymore. Let’s say you’re forgiven or whatever,” he adds, barely managing to keep his voice calm.

Daphne is watching him with her eyes wide open and her chin wobbling. For a brief moment, Lucas wonders whether he wasn’t too harsh, but it all disappears when he thinks of all the months he was hurting because of what Daphne did.

Imane places her hand on Lucas’ forearm and he’s so grateful. Her touch is grounding.

“Be happy we haven’t told everyone. We are giving you a chance to at least slightly redeem yourself,” Imane says. She doesn’t let Daphne add anything as her grip on Lucas’ arm tightens and she starts dragging him in the opposite direction. Though, Daphne seems speechless anyway.

“But what about studying?” Lucas asks when she eventually lets go of him.

“Let’s get a cookie first,” Imane replies, trying to smile at him, but failing miserably.

Lucas purses his lips and sighs. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault your friendship is so fucked up.”

She glares at him. “She did the bad thing. It’s not your fault, okay? None of it is. I can’t stand with her after that. I’m just upset.” She shrugs one of her shoulders.

Lucas opens his mouth to say something when his phone buzzes. Imane seems to be deep in thought so he decides to check the message.

When he sees who texted him, his heart flutters excitedly in his chest, Daphne forgotten.

can we meet tomorrow? i want to talk with you

Lucas quickly types out a response, agreeing to the meeting and locks his phone. God, it’s been so long since he last heard from Eliott.

Imane nudges him and when he sends her a quizzical look, she asks, “What are you grinning about?”

“It’s Eliott. He wants to meet with me,” Lucas says, feeling his cheeks hurt from how much he’s smiling. Huh, so that’s how it feels when you like someone and you’re aware of it? Crazy.

Mostly, he missed Eliott and was worried. So he supposes, there are more reasons for his excitation than only his crush. Eliott is his friend first and foremost. The romantic attraction is just an addition.

“How’s he?”

“We’ll find out,” Lucas says, wishing tomorrow could come sooner.

***

When Lucas approaches the gate, it’s already open. He only has to slightly push it forward and the abandoned park comes into sight. He enters the place and for a moment the time stills. He revels in the way the wind is blowing subtly at the leaves. Even the air feels different here.

Eliott told him to come and see him at the tunnel he once showed Lucas. Looking around, Lucas remembers how Eliott told him he’d never brought anyone here before. That Lucas was first and maybe, just maybe, it was one of the signs that Eliott liked him, but Lucas was completely blind to it. You don’t bring a random friend to a place that’s special to you.

Lucas’ palms get significantly sweatier as he comes closer to the tunnel. Eliott likes to come here when he wants to be alone and yet, he once again invited Lucas to join him. Perhaps he feels safer in these surroundings.

Lucas reaches the tunnel and it takes him a moment, but when he eventually notices Eliott sitting against one of the walls, he lets out a loud sigh. Eliott turns his head towards him and Lucas could swear he sees a shadow of a smile on his face.

Before saying anything, he takes his steps to Eliott and plops down next to him, brushing their shoulders in the process.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Eliott replies, his voice a little uncertain. “Sorry I dragged you here. I just had to get away from my flat or I’d have lost my mind,” he explains apologetically.

Lucas nudges him playfully in the side. “No need to be sorry. It’s okay. I like it here. I don’t care about the place as long as I get to see you,” he admits, glancing down at his lap. He shouldn’t be saying things like that.

Eliott only snorts under his nose and sags against the wall. He seems tired. If it weren’t for the darkness, Lucas would probably see the bags under his eyes.

“Anything happen when I was out?” Eliott asks. Lucas thinks for a long moment. He can’t really say that he finally realised his feelings for Eliott after like months. So he goes for the only other thing he can think of.

“I caught the blackmailer.”

Eliott gasps subtly. “Oh. Is that so?”

Lucas tells him the whole story. He’d expect himself to get tired by now, since he recalled those events to so many people, but with Eliott it’s fine. Like always.

“I guess fate decided it was the time.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Lucas says, glad that someone has finally seen his point.

What follows is a bit of a meaningless back and forth before Eliott asks the big question, “You’ve met Lucille, right?”

Lucas frowns. He isn’t very keen on talking about her, but he supposes it’s only the beginning of what Eliott wants to discuss. “Yeah.”

“It’s almost like she moved in with me. I hate that my parents told her to take care of me as if we didn’t break up. I can’t stand all of them. I know they mean well, but God seeing your ex without going through depression sucks enough,” Eliott rambles on, his voice monotone. “I already said that I’m feeling better, but no, of course, she still comes. At this rate I’m afraid she’s gonna ask to get back together,” he continues, letting his head slide to the side, right to Lucas’ shoulder. Lucas has probably uncomfortable shoulders, but it’s too late, Eliott is already propped up there.

“And will you? Get back together?” Lucas asks, anxious. Eliott shifts and Lucas can feel his eyes looking up at him.

“You know I won’t,” Eliott says calmly and the weight of his words makes Lucas realise just how close they are right now. “About that. I wanted to say sorry for being an asshole to you last time. I was all over the place. Embarrassed because of everything I did during, you know, being manic. I went out of my way to remind you of my feelings. It all just hit me and I lashed out on you. I was scared you’d hate me. So yeah, I’m sorry.” His voice is quiet, but in the tunnel, Lucas can hear every single word clearly. Eliott still seems scared. And ashamed.

“It’s okay. Nothing you did made me feel uncomfortable.” Quite the opposite. “And I could never hate you for that. Besides, I should have given you more time. You weren’t ready to talk, I can’t blame you for your reaction,” Lucas says reassuringly. All this time, he was angry at himself for overwhelming Eliott. There hasn’t even been a moment in which Lucas had considered thinking badly of Eliott.

“Yeah, but I’m bi– bipolar, not brainless. I should know when to shut up. It’s not an excuse to be a dick,” Eliott mutters and maybe he’s right. Maybe they both made some mistakes. It’s all in the past, though. “I just really wish you had found out in another way and not when it was out of my control,” he whispers and sighs.

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wasn’t ready. I don’t like that part of myself. It’s hard for me to talk about and I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I was gonna tell you, but I kept putting it off because everything was so good and I finally felt happy. I thought that maybe… maybe it wouldn’t happen again,” Eliott says and nuzzles his face against Lucas’ shoulder. He seems so fucking sad. Lucas wishes he could do something to help him. Make him feel better.

“You stopped taking your meds,” Lucas states, remembering what Eliott’s parents said. He feels him nodding.

“I felt too happy,” Eliott admits. They sit there quietly for a few moments, both at a loss of words.

Lucas doesn’t really know what he could possibly say in this situation. He doesn’t think there is anything that he could think of. He’s never been good at that sort of stuff. And it doesn’t look like Eliott wants him to say anything. More like he wants him to listen and understand.

“Remember when I told you about everything that happened at my old school?” Lucas hums. “I skipped out on some things. I, um– I had my first episode back then. It was much worse than what you’ve seen. Yeah, I was in love with one of my best friends, but it got out because I kissed him in front of everyone when I was in the middle of being manic. He rejected me and then everything went to shit even more. I was losing it and people at my school were awful. I’ve done so many things. And after all that, I crashed. I crashed so badly I wouldn’t leave my room for weeks. I missed my exams because of that. And I…“ he pauses to take a deep inhale. He sounds choked up. “…I was so deep in that dark place I tried to… tried to kill myself.” Lucas’ breath hitches in his throat. He feels Eliott trembling against him. Lucas wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to go further, but Eliott isn’t finished yet.

“They saved me and then I spent over two months in a hospital. That’s when I got diagnosed. When I was out of there, about to repeat the year, some of my friends tried to reach out to me but I pushed them away. I wasn’t happy with Lucille. And as the first semester progressed, I had another episode. Less violent than the first one. After that, I decided to change schools. Start fresh and stop being regarded as crazy by everyone. I really hoped it’d be– it’d be different,” Eliott admits, his voice breaking halfway through. Lucas doesn’t look towards him, afraid that he might see him crying. He wouldn’t be able to hold back his own tears if that was the case.

“It is different. We won’t leave you. And no one at school knows,” Lucas says in hopes that it will make Eliott feel a tiny bit better. “Also don’t worry, we’re not going to start treating you like a toddler. But we’re going to support you and be there for you.” Lucas is sure of this. He’s not alone and he won’t Eliott be, either.” Thank you for telling me all of this. Thank you for… for trusting me enough.”

“Thank you for listening,” Eliott murmurs, a little bit strained. He’s fighting so hard not to break down right here, on Lucas and Lucas wishes there was a way for him to convey that it’s alright. That he doesn’t have to hide anymore. But he isn’t sure Eliott would appreciate that right now. He probably doesn’t want anyone pointing his weaknesses out. Not after everything that he’s been through lately. So this time, Lucas will let him be. Patience and baby steps.

He looks down again. Their hands are so close to one another. If only Lucas moved his a couple of centimetres to the left, he’d cover Eliott’s palm. He glances then at Eliott’s face and sees that he’s closed his eyes. He looks drained.

It’s not the time for Lucas to be daring. There will be another chance. They’re okay as they are.

***

Lucas keeps staring at the empty chair across from him. He knows it won’t magically make Eliott appear, but one can wish. Eliott still isn’t feeling well enough to come to school, but he said he might be back next week and that’s what Lucas is holding onto. It doesn’t change the fact that the table feels empty without him.

It’s funny to think that some time ago he’d feel overjoyed every time Eliott skipped school and there were only four of them. And now he’s moping. Oh, how the tables have turned. Lucas would even hope for Eliott not to come sometimes. Which, in perspective makes him feel guilty. Eliott tends to skip school on his bad days. So every time Lucas was happy that he had his friends all to himself, Eliott was being consumed by his own mind. Sweet.

Lucas sighs to himself, dragging a fork over his plate.

“Dude, it’s like the tenth time you sighed in the last few minutes,” Basile points out to which Lucas only shrugs.

“Let him be. He’s sulking,” Yann says, barking out a laugh. He’s the only one knowing about Lucas’ recent epiphany and the asshole is having great fun with it.

“Why are you sulking?” Arthur asks, poking Lucas in the forearm.

“Do you remember when you asked me whether I had a crush on Eliott?” Lucas mumbles under his nose.

Arthur nods, squinting his eyes. “Yeah?” Lucas looks at him pointedly and then Arthur gasps. “No way,” he lets out.

“Yes way,” Yann teases. Lucas scowls at him and kicks him under the table. Basile yelps and Lucas figures out he missed.

“How long? What?! When?!” Arthur exclaims and Lucas shushes him when too many people look their way.

“I don’t know how long. It hit me last week,” Lucas explains.

“Unbelievable,” Basile lets out, shaking his head. “All Eliott had to do was to have an episode. Bravo, Lucas, bravo.”

“Fuck you,” Lucas says, but there’s no bite in his voice. He knows he’s an idiot. In his defense, internalised homophobia is a bitch to deal with and repressing things is a way to go. He still has moments when he denies his feelings or thinks that he’s disgusting for liking Eliott. He doesn’t even want to think about the turmoil he’d be going through now if Eliott didn’t reciprocate this crush.

“And you know what’s even better? Eliott likes him back,” Yann singsongs with a shit-eating grin.

“He does?!” Basile asks in disbelief.

“He does,” Arthur simply states, unlocking his phone.

Lucas huffs. “First of all, don’t talk about this! It’s confidential and he isn’t even here. And second of all, you,” he points at Arthur who purses his lips into a thin line, “you knew?”

“Yes. I knew. Why do you think we kissed that one time? We were both sad because of our crushes and Eliott told me back then it was you,” he explains, scrolling down some website.

“Then why did you ask me if we were together?”

Arthur lets out an exasperated sigh. “Because he told me months ago, drunk. We never really talked about it again. You could have gotten together in the meantime.” He shrugs nonchalantly. Well, he does have a point. “There’s a party on Friday. Are we going?” Arthur changes the topic. He looks up at them expectantly.

They glance at one another and then collectively nod. It’s been some time since they last went to a party. And the other time they wanted to get some relax, it didn’t exactly work out.

Yann nudges Lucas in the elbow. “Do you think you could get Eliott to come?”

Well, he can try.

***

Lucas was pretty sure Eliott would immediately decline but turns out that convincing him to go with them was much easier than expected. Of course, he said he wouldn’t drink and would be there only for a short time, just to see all of them after almost two weeks. All of which Lucas understands.

They agreed that Lucas would come and pick him up before the party, since Eliott would feel too anxious to go by himself.

It’s a bit earlier than he was supposed to arrive, but Lucas thinks that Eliott will forgive him as he knocks on the door to his flat. It takes a good minute for the doorknob to move and the door to open. Lucas partly expects to see Lucille facing him so he lets out a breath of relief when it’s Eliott.

His hair is damp and his clothes are disheveled. He isn’t ready to go out yet and Lucas has enough decency to murmur, “Sorry for being this early,” before Eliott ushers him in.

“It’s fine. You can sit wherever I’ll go get ready,” Eliott says, sending his way a nervous smile.

Lucas watches him disappear in the direction of his bedroom. Eliott seems a bit shaky. Maybe he doesn’t really want to go to the party? But what can Lucas do, though? Eliott is a big boy and he won’t baby him. Lucas won’t act like Eliott’s parents and Lucille. After all, Eliott should know his limits.

With that in mind, Lucas goes to the living room and settles on the couch. He hears Eliott going around the flat, his steps loud in the silence of the walls.

Lucas looks out of the window and says, “Oh, fuck,” just as Eliott passes by the living room.

He sticks his head into the room, gazing at Lucas in confusion.

“It started raining,” Lucas mutters in the same exact moment a thunderbolt cuts through the sky.

When the loud thundering sound can be heard, they lock their eyes and Eliott says, “Fuck indeed.”

They smile at each other.

Lucas looks at Eliott since he finally has a clear sight of him and notices that his cheeks are a bit sunken and there sure are purple bags under his eyes. He is worn down and there is no beating around it.

“You don’t want to go to the party,” Lucas states instead of asking. Eliott sighs, looking down and it’s enough of an answer. The rain is rhythmically hitting the windows and it’s gradually getting darker. As yet another thunderbolt lights up the room, Lucas continues, “We could use it as an excuse and not go. We can hang out together at any other time.”

Eliott glances up at him, biting down on his bottom lip. “I’d like that,” he admits quietly.

Lucas grins towards him, feeling his heart racing. He likes this scenario better as well.

They both jump when there’s an especially loud clap of thunder and right after that the lights go out.

Lucas can only see the glint of Eliott’s eyes.

“Oh, great.” He chuckles nervously. There are a few seconds of silence and then Eliott turns the flashlight in his phone on. It doesn’t do much since they’re pretty much surrounded by darkness at this point, but it’s helpful either way.

Eliott moves towards the couch and then sits down next to Lucas. They stay in silence, letting the thunder outside fill it. It’s not exactly pleasant, considering the fact they keep flinching and jumping every few seconds. Lucas would really like to hold hands right now. But it’s not like he’s going to ask, right?

“I’m a bit scared,” he admits and feels Eliott turning his head towards him.

“Me too,” Eliott whispers when everything is lit up again.

Lucas hums thoughtfully. “Let’s play something so we can get distracted,” he suggests, breathing out evenly.

“Okay.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Sure,” Eliott agrees. “So what do you choose?”

Lucas is not about to do some things when it’s dark everywhere around them so he replies, “Truth.”

“Hmm. When was the last time you wet your pants?”

Lucas makes a face. “Come on, dude. Seriously?” He groans and closes his eyes. “I was fourteen. I was watching some dumb horror,” Lucas confesses. He doesn’t even remember what the movie was about, but it sure as fuck gave him a couple of sleepless nights. Eliott snorts. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you,” Lucas pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. “Have you ever been with a boy?” He can feel himself blushing as he says those words.

“Yeah, I have,” Eliott replies. He doesn’t say who or when it was, which is partly disappointing as it is relieving.

They take turns in asking each other questions throughout the thunder going on outside. Neither of them chooses dare, not wanting to move anywhere. They ask each other gross and mostly trivial questions. It’s not the time to go deeper, to unpack their traumas and they’re aware of that. They laugh and teases each other, and by the time the thunder is almost gone, they’ve moved so much closer to each other that their sides are touching. They don’t comment on the fact their hands are brushing and Eliott’s index finger keeps tracing the back of Lucas’ knuckles. Their words are hushed whispers and each time one of them says something, the other has to lean closer.

Something has shifted in the span of the last few minutes or hours; Lucas doesn’t really know how much time passed.

One wouldn’t consider asking someone whether they’ve ever eaten boogers romantic, but within the context, Lucas thinks it’s the most romantic setting he’s ever been in.

“Truth or dare?” Eliott asks, staring at the side of Lucas’ face.

Lucas turns his head for the first time ever since they’ve started this game. Their faces have never been this close.

“Truth,” he mouths, knowing that Eliott will hear him anyway.

Eliott gazes at him for a long moment, searching for something and he must find what he’s been looking for because he asks, “Do you like someone?”

Lucas swallows, his eyes falling down to Eliott’s mouth and quickly back up to his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes out, shifting his body closer. “Truth or dare?”

Eliott looks over Lucas’ face and his index fingers move up to his wrist. “Dare.”

The only thing that Lucas can hear is the thump-thump of his heart. He parts his lips.

“Kiss me.”

***

5 MONTHS LATER

Lucas isn’t drunk. This time, he truly isn’t. He might have had a beer, but he isn’t looking forward to getting wasted any time soon.

He’s at a party, with his friends. He’s having fun and he doesn’t need unhealthy coping mechanisms to stay afloat.

The guys are talking about how they’ve been spending their summer. Yann mentions his part-time job, Arthur gushes about the girl he’s been flirting with and Basile recalls the two weeks his family spent in Greece. Lucas attentively listens to their words, dropping something from himself every few sentences.

His eyes keep straying over to Eliott, who’s standing in the corner of the room, chatting with Imane, but glancing time and time again towards Lucas.

A couple of months ago Lucas wouldn’t grin at a boy the way he does now. But a couple of months ago he didn’t have a boyfriend either.

The process of accepting, embracing his sexuality has been difficult. Trial and error, despite the support from everyone around and having started dating Eliott. It’s okay, though, because Lucas has learnt that he needs to do things slowly, be patient and gentle with himself. He’s currently in the best place he’s ever been. Things around him have changed and his way of thinking is far from the one he had in the past.

Lucas is healing. Sure, there are still nights he wakes up from nightmares of being beaten up or he can’t sleep altogether. He doesn’t have enough bravery to march in the Pride Parade, yet, but he hopes that next year he will find it in himself. There are moments he hates this part of himself and agonises over the fact he can’t change it.

Then again, there are times when he loves who he is becoming, loves being gay and lets himself enjoy the life he has.

It’s similar for Eliott. He wasn’t cured, there are still awful days he has to go through, they fight sometimes over stupid things. They work through their issues together, sometimes ending up hurting each other. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it. Lucas can’t imagine anyone else by his side and no matter how many doubts he has, he knows Eliott feels the same.

Lucas’ struggles haven’t ended, but happiness isn’t out of reach. And he wouldn’t have made it without his mom or his a bit mismatched – and at times weird, Lucas thinks, as he watches Basile mix up the spicy sauce with his beer – family.

For the first time, it’s all looking up and Lucas wishes he could go back in time and tell himself that he wouldn’t be hurting forever. That he isn’t alone and everyone that’s caused him pain, would be punished. Tom and the boys that beat him up got what was coming for them, even though Lucas’ mom thinks it’s not enough. Lucas is simply glad his case wasn’t glossed over.

Imane leaves Eliott’s side when she’s called by Manon and Daphne and Lucas follows her with his gaze. Daphne has eventually come clean and initially, everyone pretty much resented her. Rightfully so. Lucas is still bitter at times, but he figured out there was no point in actively hating her so he just doesn’t care. The girls are still not so enthusiastically on board with her, but they haven’t abandoned her completely. Lucas is glad. It’s not like he wants her to have a miserable life. He’s not evil.

Lucas looks back towards Eliott who is now staring at him. Eliott cocks his eyebrow, his mouth stretched in a lazy smile. He nods his head towards the exit and winks at Lucas. Lucas rolls his eyes fondly and excuses himself from the guys.

He flips them off when they start wolf whistling as he approaches Eliott.

As Lucas is in front of him, Eliott reaches his hands to place them on his hips, but is stopped by Lucas’ fingers.

Lucas looks meaningfully towards the room full of people. “Let’s go outside, okay?” he suggests in a small voice to which Eliott only nods in understanding and grabs Lucas’ hand. He entwines their fingers as they leave the house the party is at.

Yeah, there are still some issues, bad moments and not everything has been magically fixed, but life is no longer hopeless and Lucas can finally say that there is a future for him. And maybe, for now, it’s enough.

#elu #elu fic #elu fanfic #skam france #skam france fic #skam france fanfic #lucas x eliott #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant

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oh-theatre · 5 years ago

Text

Sycamore High: Auditions (Chapter 21)

A/N: I hope you know that for all the shows, and all the main characters I devised audition songs so please for the love of all that his holy appreciate my choices. Anyway, this chapter is set up weirdly but hope you enjoy! Also, I might be getting some kind of editor soon so...

summary: Its audition time! Whos gonna get cast?

words: 2,520

warnings: Swearing

Ao3 Link

“I love you” Ted smiles “I love you! I love you” Tommy exclaims as they walk into school early Monday morning.

“Do you love me? Or do you just like saying the phrase?” Ted asks innocently. Tommy giggles smiling wide, baring his teeth.

“Both!” He perks up, kissing Ted lightly on the cheek. Ted flushes, delighted by the fluttery sensation he’s become so familiar with. A feeling he'd come to expect, desire, crave-

“Would you two stop being the cutest for a second so I can freak out about auditions?” Charlotte wonders joining the couple. They chuckle turning their attention to Charlotte.

“How are you freaking out? You're literally so amazing” Tommy gushes, Charlotte giggles as they pair off into their own pair leaving Ted to wander around. He meets up quickly with Paul and Bill who also seem to be talking about auditions. Ted joins their conversation as they all walk towards the auditorium. He yawns tired, wincing at the slight pain caused by the scrunching of his nose. The gang bids farewell to Tommy making their way into the large theatre sitting down in their respective seats. Chad stands happily at the front, a mischievous smile scans the room.

“Well its finally here!” Chad announces, Ted smiles “Its audition day! Who's excited?!” The class grumbles in response. He chuckles “Alright! I'm giving you guys the entire period to work on your songs and get some final critique before this afternoon!” The class nod and split into their groups. Ted, Paul and Bill herd over to a corner, sitting on the floor.

“Ok, who wants to go first,” Paul asks, opening his sheet music. Ted laughs dryly to himself.

“Nopety nope,” He says, silently studying his music. “Someone else, I'm way too nervous”

“You're nervous? I can't reach my notes!” Bill exclaims, flipping exasperated through his own music. “How to apply for a job! How to advance to the mAil room” Bill sings, Ted, listens. Bill groans having trouble with the note. “How to sit down at a desk!” Ted nods.

“It sounds great Bill, seriously” Ted encourages, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. Bill smiles gratefully.

“Ok...ok Ill go first” Paul cuts in, the boys nod ready to listen.

~~~

“Bill Dorris?” Chad comes out into the foyer scanning the room. Bill perks up and stands walking over to the doors. Chad nods, taking his audition packet and sending him in.

“Good luck Bill!” Ted shouts across the foyer. He nods gratefully before disappearing behind the doors. Bill enters quietly, making his way to the stage, he tries to stop his shaking, clutching onto his hands.

“Um..um hi…” He starts, shaking his head “I'm Bill, and today I will be singing ‘How to Succeed’ from the musical ‘How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying’, thank you” He takes a deep breath, finally glancing up. He starts…

~~~

“Charlotte?” Chad sends Bill out, greeting the eager girl. “Come on in”

“Good luck Lottie” Emma shouts mocking Ted but with a hint of genuineness. She bounces into the theatre, skipping nervously every step. She makes her way up confidently to the stage, smiling at the directors.

“Good afternoon, my name is Charlotte, and today I will be performing ‘No More Fear’ from the musical ‘Freaky Friday’, thank you” She silently praises herself, beginning to sing.

~~~

“Tommy Sweet?” Chad says, he tries to stop himself from laughing on the formality. Saying Tommy's last name, while the boy practically lives at his house. Tommy gets up from his position, Ted stands with him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Tommy smiles gratefully, squeezing Ted's hand.

“You're going to do amazing gumdrop” Ted assures, whispering sweetly into his ear. He nods, taking a deep breath making his way to Chad. He ushers him in helping him to the stage.

“Good luck Tommy” The professor whispers quietly before taking his place at the table. Tommy slowly walks up towards the stage and stands ready.

“Hello! I'm Tommy Sweet and I'm going to sing ‘Now it's Just the Gas’ from Little shop of horrors! Thank you!” He smiles at the pianist, excited to begin, the butterflies in his stomach flying away.

~~~

“Ted Porker?” Chad yawns, he doesn't mean to but it's getting late and he's quite exhausted. Ted looks to his friends freezing before Tommy and Paul lead him over to Chad. Tommy squeezes his hand gently before returning to his spot on the floor. “You alright kiddo?”

“Yeah...yeah, let's just get this over with” He sighs resigned, Chad chuckles leading him into the theatre. He makes his way up to the stage, he rushes.

“Hi, my name is Ted Porker, my song is ‘Look at the Sky’ from Urinetown” He wastes no time beginning.

~~~

“Emma Perkins” Chads not even trying anymore, out of almost 50 students, a few have stuck out and been interesting. Emma chuckles at the professor but stands, Paul nods encouragingly, she gives him finger guns before shaking her head awkwardly.

“You got this Em!” Charlotte calls out, a small group of cheers erupts from her friends. She laughs of them biting her lips thankfully. She turns to the professor.

“Let's do this,” She says walking in front of Chad and taking her place on the stage, Chad sits nodding. “I'm Emma and I'm going to sing ‘Times Are Hard For Dreamers’ from ‘Amelie’” she nods before the piano begins.

~~~

“Finally” Chad mutters to himself reaching the end of his list “Paul Matthews… cmon” Paul nods.

“You've got this!

“I believe in you bud!”

“I'm hungry” Surprisingly Paul appreciates Emma's statement the most. She smiles up at him, he nods. He reaches Chad, giving him the packet.

“Alright let's go,” Chad says leading him, as he had done one too many times today, to the stage. Paul gets right into it, wasting no time.

“I'm Paul, and I'm going to perform ‘Oh, What a Beautiful Morning’ from the musical ‘Oklahoma’, thank you!” He takes a sharp inhale, before beginning, summoning Curly.

~~~

“I'm going to quit tomorrow” Chad announces as he and Ted return home. Ted chuckles, Henry emerges from his room, kissing Chad. He nestles into Henry, moaning softly clearly exhausted. “I'm sorry, I really am but some people just can't sing love” Chad mumbles into his husband's neck. Henry lets out a soft chuckle rubbing comforting circles on his back. They pull away, Chad turns to Ted. “But not you Ted,” He says mustering up as much affection as he can. Ted smiles, sighing.

“It's fine, I'm just glad it's over” He pounds a victorious fist into the air. “Alright I'm off to bed, I'm tired” He yawns, Chad nods agreeing. Ted bids the pair farewell before heading to his room. Henry turns to his husband, who remains pouting.

“Me tired” Chad gestures pointing at himself, Henry chuckles “Me want bed”

“Ah but alas, you need to work on the cast list love” Henry reminds him “You're the one who did, monologues and songs in one. It needs to be up by tomorrow morning” Chad groans again, once more nestling into his husband. “I know dearest, what a life”

~~~

Gucci Gang

Tommy: How does everyone think they did?

Emma: Eh, I mean I got through it….

Charlotte: I don't know how I did, but I sure had a lot of fun

Ted: Of course you did

Bill: Ted be nice

Tommy: Ted! Be nice

Paul: Oh my god…

Ted: Shut it, Paul

Tommy: Hehe, that's funny Bill!

The adventures of Fucking Useless and Sleaze Ball

FU: You're dating Bill

SB: Ok shut up. First of all, I would be honored cause Bill is aMAzing and second I'm not but go off

FU: Whatever you say… how is he by the way? Have you talked to him yet?

SB: No, give it time

Gucci Gang

Tommy: I'm sure you all did amazing

Ted: I'm sure you did the mostest amazing

Tommy: I feel like you know that's grammatically incorrect

Bill: But you're not going to fix it

Ted: What's wrong about it?

Bill: It's just ‘Most amazing’

Tommy: ‘Most amazing’ love

Emma:...

Charlotte: Oh wow…

Paul: *cough*

Ted: Ok yeah, I’m out for the night.

Gumdrop

Ted: Night Tommy

Tommy: Night Ted! Make sure you actually get some sleep ok?

Ted: I will, I promise.

Ted: Love you

The absence of a return text was the result of an absolute delighted squeal being released on the other line. Tommy bounces back typing quickly.

Tommy: LOVE YOU TOO!!

Slowly the conversation dies out until everyone had clocked out. Each with settling in for the night with their own level of anxiousness. Each unaware that Chad was currently sat at the table, pulling his hair out over the cast list. Certain of one thing, those six were on it.

~~~

“No...way” Charlotte gapes, feeling faint. A squeal pulls her out of her thoughts, a firm feeling clutching onto her. She feels herself pulled into an embrace.

“Lottie! Congrats!” Emma shrieks clearly caffeinated. Emma pulls away pointing to Charlotte's name, Charlotte lets out a nervous laugh. “Char! You're Bea!”

‘What are you guys shouting about?” Paul moans walking up to the pair. Emma bounces pointing to the cast list hanging royally on the auditorium doors. Paul's eyes widen “Emma! Oh my god! Congratulation” Emma's hands drop, her face follows.

“Huh?” She turns, quickly stumbling back. Charlotte stops her finally feeling the flutter in her stomach calm down. “Oh...oh my…” She turns to Charlotte, they resume their squealing. “I'm Portia!” She manages through her excitement, she notices Paul staring at her. She clears her throat and stands idle. “I mean whatever…” Paul raises his eyebrows, nudging her aside. Suddenly the same look befalls Pauls's face.

“I...m...im?” He barely whispers, Emma turns unable to see the list “I'm Nigel?” His voice as doubtful as ever, Emma and Charlotte share a silent gasp. “I'm...Nigel” He tries again, a still uncertain tone remains. Emma hits him. “I'm Nigel” He decides. She claps his back.

“You're Nigel! And I'm Portia! And Char is Bea” Emma squeals, too excited to contain her happiness.

“I believe congratulations are in order then” Bill approaches adjusting his glasses. He nods at each, Paul grins wide. He turns back to the list. “I will do crew, I find sound and lights enthralling” Bill explains.

“Will you have enough time?” Paul asks coyly, Bill tilts his head “Well, I'm asking because you're Brother Jeremiah!” He announces, pushing Bill forward showing him his name. Emma smiles.

“Guess you're my dad huh?” Emma teases, Bill turns a glaze over his eyes. She takes him in, hugging him. “Congrats Bill” Their moment is broken by a sudden clearing of the throat. The group turns, Emma's face drops, she glares. “Sam” She seethes, he stands gallantly before them. Charlotte suppresses a blush but moves aside politely. He winks at her much to Emma's unfortunate disgust.

“Step aside, for it is my turn to see the cast list” He explains. He pushes forward clearing the area. As if a sacred bubble surrounds him that only he can touch. He examines the list gasping suddenly. Charlotte bites her lip excitedly. “If music be the food of love, play on!” He calls out. They all ponder for a moment before Charlotte bounces.

“You got Shakespeare!” She proclaims, the group stifles their collective groan. He nods dropping his act for a moment, something is shared between them. “Oh, Sam! Congratulations!” He shakes hyper, pulling her into an unexpected hug. Emma goes to move forward but is quickly stopped by Paul. She pouts keeping an intent eye on them. Her anger does not disappear as another figure approaches once again surrounded by his entourage.

“Move aside losers” Billy requests, Emma and Bill get ready to pounce fury controlling them. Paul and Charlotte rush to hold them back. He looks over the list for a moment before smirking. “Guess we will be seeing a lot more of each other, say hello to your shylock” He announces, before quickly leaving the foyer continuing on.

“Oh, I could just kill him” Emma seethes once more, Bill nods in agreement.

“Hi, hello, what the fuck was Billy doing here?” Ted approaches annoyed, hand in hand with Tommy.

“Language love” Tommy reminds gently, yawning away. He looks around practically a zombie before setting his eyes on the list. That seeming to be the only energy he needs, he perks up. Tommy pulls carefully on Ted's hand. “Cast list dearest!” Ted smiles encouragingly, not expecting the sudden knot forming in his stomach. He sends Tommy forward, knowing he didn't need to search the list for something that wasn't there, he gives him a kiss of good luck.

“Tell me what you got” He requests, Tommy scoffs playfully as he makes his way forward.

“Don't be certain I'm in it, I know for a fact you don't kno-” he pauses, the group's full attention falls on him now. “Oh my god” Is all he manages. He turns starry-eyed back to Ted.

“Gumdrop?” Ted asks cautiously, he moves closer to Tommy “What's wrong?” Tommy bites down a laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh Ted, there's nothing wrong” He sighs dreamily, Ted licks his lips raising his brows.

“I'm not following” Ted tries again “Did..did you get a part?” He cautions, the group continues listening.

“Better” Tommy smirks “You got a part” He barely whispers. Paul and Bill gasp softly, Ted doesn't register and goes again.

“Come again?”

“Love! You got a part!” He erupts, Paul and Bill cheer, soon joined by Emma and Charlotte. Ted freezes, a part? No...no… surely “And not just any part, you got Nick Bottom!” He informs. Ted exhales sharply, pursing his lips waiting for the song to end. For someone to pinch him, wake him, pull him out of this perfect dream. Tommy throws himself around Ted, who ground himself returning the embrace. “I'm so proud of you Ted” Tommy whispers gently, just for the two of them. Ted feels something lift off of him, he didn't know words could feel so good. They pull apart, but something hits him.

“Wait what about you?” He says wiping his eyes, returning his focus. The cheers become silent as they watch Tommy intently. He shrugs coyly.

“Well...I'm not the Bea to your Nick,” He says, Charlotte giggles “I am however a certain Nostradamus!” And the cheers return. Ted goes for another hug picking up his smaller boyfriend spinning him around. Through everything, no matter what, this moment right here. It was great, it was perfect.

~~~

Chad puts a soft hand to his heart, smiling exhausted but happy. He listens with absolute glee as the student's cheer and rejoices over the cast list and their parts. He nods proud of himself, walking over to his desk. He slumps in his chair revising the scripts and sheet music. He looks over the cast list once more

Nick Bottom: Ted

Nigel Bottom: Paul

Bea Bottom: Charlotte

Shakespeare: Sam

Portia: Emma

Nostradamus: Tommy

Brother Jeremiah: Bill

Shylock: Billy

Now...the show begins...

#sycamore high #tgwdlmhs #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #musicals #musical theatre #theatre #starkid #jon matteson #corey dorris #joey richter #lauren lopez #jaime lyn beatty #robert manion #jeff blim #writing #my writing #ao3 #archive of our own

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sammim91 · 5 years ago

Text

Chrobin Week 2019- Day Seven Prompt- Promise

Final fic for Chrobin week. It’s been a blast to do and i really hope i can participate next year too. Now my I can focus squarely on the release of Fire Emblem Three houses on friday (although i still dont’t know which house im choosing- got it narrowed down to blue lion or golden deer lol) As always Ao3 link is below

Day seven prompt- Promise

Pairing- Chrom and Robin(M)

Chrom and Robin had made numerous promises to each other.

They'd promised their hearts to each other the day Chrom had proposed to his Tactician. They had promised to love each other through all hardships the day that they had married. And they had promised to come back alive when war had come to Ylisse a second time.

It had been the one promise Robin had been unable to keep. The one he had wished with all his heart he could have kept. But he knew deep down that to do so would be selfish. And if there was one thing Robin was, above all else, it was selfless. He wanted to protect everyone, especially his family who he loved so much. He wanted Lucina to grow up in a world unhindered by war safe in the knowledge that Grima would never appear again, even if it wasn't in her lifetime. He wanted his and Chrom's future daughter Morgan to be born into that same world, although he lamented sadly that she would probably not be born at all given the fact that Robin was about to remove his own existence. It was probably the thing he was feeling most guilty for. That and lying right to Chrom's face.

But he couldn't have told the truth. He knew his husband would do something reckless, try to stop him in anyway he could, even if it meant leaving Robin out of the battle.

Grima's roar broke him out of his thoughts. He gulped, knowing his time grew short. Soon, through the combined effort of the Shepard's Grima would be weak enough to finish off. Robin was consciously aware of Chrom stood beside him like he always was, his face covered in mud and grime. The battle had been hard, and Robin wasn't foolish enough to not prepare accordingly. Everyone who currently stood on Grima's back all held extra Vulnaries, their weapons were the best the could be, and every eventuality had been accounted for.

"I think we've done it!" Chrom called to him, pointing to the colossal dragons head. It roared in pain before careening downwards. The Shepard's clung to its back as it hit the ground, all of them mostly unscathed. Lissa had a tiny cut on her cheek as she clung to her husband Frederick, and even Lucina and Morgan were roughed up, in fact Morgan was leaning on her sister, seemingly unable to put weight on her left foot.

"I'm going to finish this," Chrom stepped forward, Falchion held firmly in his grip as he eyed the dragon angrily. The identical version of his husband was sneering at him, his eyes red with malice.

"Wait..." with trembling fingers Robin reached for Chrom's hand, stopping his advance.

"Robin?" Blue eyes looked at him quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"I-I'm sorry Chrom," Robin could feel the tears threaten to come. "And I'm sorry my girls," he glanced at his blue haired daughters, who stood staring equally as confused as Chrom did. "I cannot keep my promise to you." Turning back to his husband, he smiled weakly. "I hope... one day, you'll forgive me." Before Chrom could protest, Robin pulled an Elwind tome and fired a gust of wind, not enough to hurt him, but enough to stun him, at Chrom, who flew backwards. Robin gulped, turning away from his husband, who was crying out in shock.

He stepped towards his dark counterpart, hand lit up with magic.

"Robin!..." Chrom called. "Wait.. what..."

"WHAT...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Grima stepped back as he advanced.

"For once... I'm glad you and I are the same," Robin's voice sounded braver than he actually felt.. "Now I can give my life to protect those I care for..."

"Robin!" Chrom was on the ground, the Elwind spell having still rattled him. "Don't do this!" Robin spared him a glance, a faint smile on his lips. His husband looked distressed and Robin knew he didn't have long till Chrom could move again.

"...YOU WOULD...NOT DARE," Grima drew his attention again, and Robin noted his dark counterpart seemed scared.

"I would and will. The evils you would visit on this world are unthinkable..." Robin raised his hand, ready to strike. "In some way, I- we share the blame. It's only right we meet our end together!" The ball of dark energy in Robin's palm flew forward as he threw it, hitting Grima right in the chest.

"NOOOOO...!" Grima cried as he began to fade and before long he was gone. Robin sniffed. He had to stay brave, he told himself he would. He could feel himself begin to fade also, and he knew he didn't have long. On tentative legs he turned, only to be grabbed by Chrom, who threw his arms around him, as if trying to stop him from disappearing.

"Robin..." blue eyes filled with tears glanced at him. "W-why?"

"Shhh," Robin cupped Chrom's face with his half there hand. "It's okay my love..." He sighed. "This was the best plan, you know that."

"I-I can't lose you," Chrom's anguish broke his heart. "Robin, you can't leave me, you promised!"

"I know I did," Robin's voice sounded more distant with each passing moment. "And I'm sorry I have to break that promise." He glanced at his daughters, who were both crying. "I'm sorry I have to leave our daughters." He smiled sadly at Chrom. "But I'm most sorry to be leaving you. I love you Chrom. I always will."

"And I love you," Chrom allowed the tears to fall as he held his husband, who was fading rapidly. "And I promise I wont stop looking for you. I promise I wont ever give up hope that you'll return." He kissed him, a final time, before Robin vanished. Glancing down at his hands, Robin's Tactician robe and the thin gold wedding band left behind were really the only things left to remind Chrom his husband had even existed in the first place.

He broke down in tears, finding no reason to carry on, now that the love of his life was gone.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years passed. And still there was no sign of Robin.

And every month that passed for Chrom was torture. Yet he never gave up. He had promised he wouldn't give in till he had found Robin. But it was hard. His life wasn't easy, and not having Robin, the only person who made every monotonous meeting, all the duties as exalt, just a little bit easier, was hard.

If he didn't have his daughters, both present and future he may have already succumbed to his despair. They kept him smiling, gave him something to hold on too. Especially Morgan, who Chrom was shocked to learn hadn't simply vanished. He had suspected she would. After all, without Robin she surely would never have been born. That thought alone was enough for him to have hope his husband would return.

He knew Robin would be proud of the present day Lucina. She was growing bigger every day, having just turned two years old. And everyday she showed how much like her two fathers she was.

He himself had aged a lot in two years. His skin was pale, his eyes distant with dark circles ever present. He even had stubble, something he knew Robin would tease him about. Yet he cared not what he looked like. None of it mattered unless he could find Robin. And he knew he had to soon. He knew there was talk of finding him a new wife, or husband. And he knew the pressure would soon be put on him to do so.

"Forgive the suggestion Milord," one of the council members broached one day not long after the two year anniversary of Robin's disappearance. "But we need to start thinking about finding you a new... husband, or wife."

"No," he'd merely grumbled, expecting this conversation, yet unprepared to have it. "I can't do that..."

"Milord," Chrom glanced at him, and the poor man shook under his gaze. "I-I don't want to be insensitive, but Lord Robin has been gone for two years now...A-and there is no reason to believe he will be back..."

"I said no!" Chrom's fist hit the table, causing every council member to flinch. "Robin is coming back, I know he is..." He closed his eyes, not willing to let his council see him get tearful.

"How can you be sure?" another council member asked.

"I just know," Chrom eyed the people round the table. He stood abruptly. "Now if were done..." Chrom didn't get the rest of his sentence out as Frederick burst through the doors then, looking as if he had been running. He stopped in front of Chrom and bowed, panting heavily as he attempted to speak.

"Forgive the intrusion... Milord," Chrom's brown haired brother in law greeted him warmly. "It's Lord Robin...we've found him." Chrom barely let the words leave Frederick's mouth before he had ran from the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chrom should have known he'd be here. There was a sense of irony about it. It was after all where they first met. Naga had a sense of humor after all it seemed.

Chrom, Lissa and Frederick slowed their horse's and Chrom was sprinting forward before Frederick had even helped Lissa down off hers.

"Robin..." Chrom knelt to the ground next to the familiar sleeping form. He chuckled softly as his husband pawed at his face. Chrom noticed that Robin's hair was longer, it now falling into his eyes and framing his face down to his chin. Chrom couldn't help but run his hands through it, cupping his husbands cheek with his trembling fingers.

He was real... he was really here.

Chrom gulped, feeling a fresh wave of emotion floor him. Robin groaned, his eyelids batting open. And Chrom was met with his beautiful brown eyes, eyes he hadn't seen in two years. It was too much for Chrom to handle, and he let the tears flow. Robin smiled warmly when he saw him.

"Chrom..." he sat up and grabbed Chrom's hand.

"Y-your real..." Chrom's voice was a whisper. "Your here..."

"You promised you'd find me," Robin brushed a stray tear from his husbands cheek.

"I did, and I never gave up hope you would come back to me." Chrom sniffed. He stood, holding a hand up to Robin. As he pulled the love of his life up he noticed that the mark of Grima was now gone off the back of his hand, and Chrom felt instant releif at this. This meant it was truly over. "Welcome back my love, it's really over now." Chrom crushed Robin too him, not caring that Lissa and Frederick were behind them. He needed this. He'd needed this for two years. And now his husband was back in his arms.

They stood there, in each others embrace, Robin's head pressed firmly to Chrom's chest. All too soon Robin pulled back, smiling widely. They turned to face Lissa and Frederick, met with both of them hiding their tears of happiness.

"Robin..." Lissa flung her arms around him. "I'm so glad your back. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Robin glanced over his sister in laws head. "I missed all of you so much."

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Chrom knew he would have to fend off a lot of questions, especially from his council. And he would answer them, just not right now. Robin was his primary concern right now.

Although he seemed fine, two years had passed and he could tell his husband was overwhelmed by that fact. He had been quiet the whole ride back to Ylisstol, sat in front of Chrom on his horse deep in thought. And when Chrom had stopped the horse in the courtyard of the castle, climbed off, and helped Robin down, he noticed the heavy set frown on his face. He was clearly dwelling on some unpleasant thoughts. Chrom didn't have a moment to ask him if he was okay, before Robin was accosted by hugs and cheers, there friends all surrounding them, welcoming him back to the world of the living.

And even though Robin smiled warmly at them, behind his eyes Chrom knew he was upset.

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"She's changed so much," Robin mused, watching his and Chrom's daughter play on the floor, her chubby hands taking delight in throwing the blocks she was currently using. Robin sat on his knees behind her, while Chrom watched the two of them from the doorway. "I-I missed s-so much. Her first steps, her first word..." he trailed off unable to continue, his throat constricted.

"Your here now, that's all that matters," Chrom entered the room fully, settling himself beside his husband. "Lucina asked about you everyday."

"She did?"

"Yes," Chrom smiled. "I remember we were looking at the portrait of us on our wedding day, the one you think was too over the top," Robin rolled his eyes, remembering his reaction to the huge oil painting of the couple in the main hall. He had thought it was an expense that wasn't needed. "Anyway's that's when she said it. Lucina looked up at your image, held out a hand and cried 'Papa'"

"Her first word was Papa?" Robin felt himself shake. "And she was reaching for me?"

"It was..." Chrom sighed. "These past few years haven't been easy Robin. I've felt like half a man, walking through each day almost in a daze." He smiled at Lucina. "If it wasn't for her, I would have gone mad. She was that little reminder of our love." He patted Robin on the back as he let his tears fall.

"Papa?" a small inquisitive voice called to him. When Robin glanced up he noticed his daughter reaching for him, her blue eyes wide with worry.

"My darling girl..." he scooped her into his arms. "I missed you so much. I promise I wont ever leave you again."

"Pwomise?"

"On my life I swear," Robin kissed her nose. "Papa isn't going anywhere anymore. I'm staying here with Dada and you, for the rest of my life."

"So happy," the blue haired toddler snuggled close to him. Over her head Robin saw Chrom smile. The hand that didn't hold their daughter reached out and grabbed Chrom's, and he lifted it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles.

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"You know, I think I like my hair like this," the white haired Tactician mused later on as he looked at himself in the mirror. "Perhaps I'll leave it as it is for a while." He glanced at Chrom in the mirror. His husband was sat on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him, his back against the headboard.

"I like it," Chrom informed him.

"You know," Robin got up and made his way to his side of the bed and joining his husband. "The one thing I first noticed about you was this," his slim fingers trailed along the stubble on Chrom's cheeks and chin.

"I'll shave it off first thing... I swear," Chrom promised.

"No... don't," Robin smirked, inching closer. "I like it."

"Oh yeah...?" Chrom reached for him, pulling him towards him. "Maybe I'll leave it then."

"Hmmm" Robin's finger inched down his throat, towards the top of his shirt, stroking the small hairs he found there. "The years have been kind to you my dear husband. If possible you've only grown more handsome." Robin deftly undid the top few buttons of the shirt, exposing Chrom's shoulders. He lent forward and bit a bruise into his collar bone, causing Chrom to groan.

"Robin..." he pulled on his husband's hair. "I've missed you, more than you could ever know. I've lain awake aching for you." He pulled Robin's face to him, sealing their lips in a kiss long overdue. They melted into the kiss, pouring all the love they still had for each other into it, giving into the desire that they clearly needed.

Chrom awoke with a groan. His body was stiff, yet more relaxed than it had been in years. He rolled over, wanting nothing more than to hold his Robin close, breath in his smell, and go back to sleep for another hour.

What he hadn't expected was the empty cold space next to him.

He sat up, his heart in his chest. Had he dreamt yesterday. Was Robin not returned to him. Was he still alone in this cruel world.

"Chrom..." his head snapped to the doorway, where Robin stood, holding a tray in his hands, a warm and happy smile on his face. "You okay?" he walked forward, placing the tray, which had food on down on the bed, before climbing in bed beside Chrom.

"I-I thought I had dreamt yesterday," he admitted bashfully. "Are you really here Robin."

His husband laughed. "Silly... of course I am."

"Thank Naga," Chrom held Robin close. "I feared you had been nothing but my mind playing tricks on me."

"I'm here," Robin soothed. "I promise." He pulled Chrom's face up to look at him, "Now come and have some breakfast." He gestured to the plates of eggs and toast, fresh squeezed orange juice and a small vase with a red rose in. Chrom smiled. In an old habit from when they were first married he lent over and snagged the rose, shaking off the water from its stem, before feeding it into Robin's hair.

"You did all this for me? When did you find the time?"

"I've been up a few hours now," Robin shrugged. "Guess some things don't change at least. I'm still a morning person."

They sat and ate in silence, merely enjoying each others presence, Chrom kept shooting Robin sideways glances, clearly worried if he took his eyes off of him for too long, that he would vanish again.

"So I was thinking," he broached after breakfast. "That we could go for a walk. Then maybe we could go and get Lucina and have a picnic. Or maybe we could go to town and..."

"Chrom..."

"Hmmmm?"

"Why are you acting like we only have today together?" Robin smiled. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"I just wanted to make up for lost time," Chrom mumbled clearly embarrassed. Robin chuckled.

"And I love you for it," he kissed Chrom's cheek. "But we really do have the rest of our lives, you know."

"You promise?" Chrom's smile was bright, his eyes happy, his heart swelling at a bright future with Robin.

"I promise, Chrom. And you know I keep my promises, most of the time anyways."

#chrobinweek2019 #mchrobin

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