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abeautylives · 2 years

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Something About You

a/n: A huge thank you to Stef and Evana for your help and input, I think this is my masterpiece lol

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 15.5k get comfy

summary: Drawn to you from the moment you met, consumed by you before your first date, he would do anything for you. There’s just something about you.

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, drinking, mentions of sex, extreme fluff, deception, explicit sexual content, mentions of oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, a twist, angst, breeding!kink, more fluff, it’s a novel so if I missed anything I’m so sorry

“I dunno Jake, what if they’re on a date?”

“I mean, maybe but… I don’t think so.”

Eyeing them from across the room, Josh takes another sip of his drink as his brother continues to assess the two women in question smiling across the table at each other in a booth.

“I don’t think they’re together, I think they’re just friends. We should just go find out.” Mind made up, the younger twin moves in that direction without waiting for a response.

Josh remains standing alone at the bar, watching Jake introduce himself and work his charm and within moments the two women are laughing with him. How does he do that? When Jake lifts a hand and gestures toward the bar, all three heads turn in Josh’s direction. Typically comfortable under scrutiny, he suddenly feels heat bloom across his cheeks as his brother waves him over.

“There he is, ladies, this is my brother, Josh. Josh this is… Nic? Nic and Y/N. They are not on a date, I asked.”

You’re both laughing again but Josh’s eyes are drawn to you as you lift a hand to him.

“Hey Josh, it’s nice to meet you.” He’s staring blankly at your mouth until Jake, as indiscreetly as humanly possible, nudges him with an elbow prompting him to look into your eyes and take your hand in his. “Do you guys wanna join us?”

They’re both very cute, but this one seems shy compared to the long-haired one that came over first and he hasn’t let go of your hand. His brother nudges him again and he appears to shake out of a trance as the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen stretches across his face, sullied only by a small gap between his two front teeth that somehow works to make it more alluring. Holy shit. You feel your eyes go wide as you drop them to look at Nic, who is also beaming at you as she scoots farther into the booth to make room for Jake. Josh, still holding your hand delicately in his, bends as he lifts it to his lips and presses a light kiss to your fingers.

“It appears that we already are! Are you sure we’re not interrupting?”

Ah, so he does speak. His voice has a similar timbre to Jake’s but their accents are completely different. You turn to him as he settles in next to you, ignoring his question completely. “Didn’t you say you guys are brothers?”

“Ha, yeah, we’re actually twins. Identical.”

“Bullshit.” You and Nic speak in unison and Jake chuckles while Josh just grins.

“We get that a lot,” Jake offers.

They’re easy to talk to, the conversation flows alongside the drinks and when Josh opens up you find that he’s soft-spoken but an animated storyteller. He uses his hands to emphasize his points and you watch them move through the air as he works toward a punchline directed at his twin. You use the moment to take in his profile - his haircut is interesting, shaved tight on the sides while the rest of his head is covered in long fluffy curls, but it leaves his face in full view for you. It’s a really nice face. His eyes, a light amber full of warmth, find you often and they lock onto yours when you’re speaking.

Nic convinces Jake to dance with a level of persuasion only she can achieve but you can still see him insisting that he’s no good at it as they cross the room. He loses the argument as her arms loop around his neck, as soon as their bodies are touching you know he’s done for. She has that effect on men and women alike and you’ve seen this play out before, she wants him and she’ll probably have him. As your gaze lingers on the two of them, you can feel Josh’s on your face.

“So,” he clears his throat, “Y/N, um…” You’re looking at him now as he transitions back into the shy person who had first walked up to your table. This side of him is baffling, he’s really attractive and he has to know that. There’s no obvious explanation for his bashful demeanor.

“Josh, do I make you nervous?” The thought is preposterous to you. Nic is usually the one that leaves strangers speechless or stammering over their words, but now that you’re alone, a distinct light pink has crawled its way over Josh’s nose and cheeks.

“Wow, um, yeah a little? What gave it away?” He finishes with a self-deprecating chuckle that’s charming in a way. “I’m sorry, I swear I’m usually more… normal. You’re just really pretty.” Good one. He’s being truthful though, he usually has no problem talking to… anyone, really. He’d swear he’s typically confident, sometimes even attention-seeking but, “There’s just something about you.”

Hours later you were standing outside the bar waiting for your rides, an Uber for you and yet another brother on the way for the guys, Jake and Nic were tangled with one another and making out right there on the sidewalk. Josh stood in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and an awkward grin on his lips.

“You wanna…?” His eyebrows had quirked up as he nodded his head in their direction.

Smiling back at him and speaking softly, you’d said, “Maybe next time.”

He asked for your number and promised to call.

⏰

Next time proved to be difficult to arrange, you knew it would be but it didn’t deter him. He called, just as he’d promised but your schedule left you little free time and meeting him on one of the rare nights out that you allowed yourself had been serendipitous. The calls became regular occurrences and every night, as exhaustion set in and you’d try to cover a yawn, he’d ask when he could see you again.

“I’m actually free next weekend…” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're nervous and fidgeting with the bottom hem of your sleep shorts. He’s so easy to communicate with and eager to see you, but you’re already overthinking things and you’ve never even hung out with him one on one. The phone starts ringing against your ear and you pull it away to see a FaceTime call coming in. From Josh. Confused, you click over before considering that you’re laying in bed, freshly showered and makeup free.

“Hey?”

He’s staring at you again, lips hanging slightly open like he’s forgotten what he was going to say. It looks like he’s probably also in bed, sitting against his headboard and while you can’t see too far below where the neckline of his shirt should be, you can tell that it’s absent.

“Josh?”

“Hi, sorry,” he laughs softly, “I just didn’t think you could possibly get even more lovely.”

The warmth of the blush moves up your neck but you can feel it spread through your chest even though you’re brushing off the compliment.

“Really, you’re beautiful. Let me take you out next Saturday. Wine and dine, the whole thing.”

You can feel yourself smiling like an idiot as your head starts to nod in confirmation. “Yeah… yeah, of course. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pick you up and-“

“No. No, let me meet you there.” Realizing how abruptly you’ve turned him down, you lighten your tone. “After all, I hardly know you. What if you’re a psycho?” When he laughs you let yourself relax into your pillow.

“Like the film? You a Hitchcock fan?” He’s graciously moved on, happy to do things on your terms.

“I’ve actually never seen it.”

Appalled, he makes you promise that you’ll watch it together someday and soon enough you’re holding back a yawn.

“Go to bed, beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

⏰

“Oh he like likes you.” Nic is sprawled across your bed watching you pull clothes from your closet and toss them haphazardly around your room.

“Nic, he doesn’t even know me.”

“Then why do you care so much about impressing him, hm? You like him too!” Her wide grin, usually contagious, is only serving to set your nerves on edge. “And don’t tell me ‘I don’t even know him’ because that’s BS, you guys literally fall asleep on the phone together every night. You know him, at least a little.”

“Okay, I get it. We know each other. Are you actually gonna help me find something?”

Once she’s standing next to you shuffling through your hangers, you ask if she’s been talking to Jake.

“Here and there. He’s great though, amazing in bed. Did I tell you how big-“

“Yes you told me, thank you. I don’t need another recap.”

“You know what they say about twins.” She’s stopped sifting through your clothes to wag her eyebrows at you. “Just sayin’. I bet he’s working with a hors-“

“Nic!” She wards off a slap from the back of your hand and then holds a dress out to you, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks with her other hand.

“This one’s perfect. Plus he looks like his favorite color’s green.”

As the hostess leads you to your table, you’re pleased with Nic’s choice. The restaurant’s vibe seems pretty casual and the other guests are dressed in a variety of attire. You feel comfortable, like you’re not standing out at all until your eyes meet Josh’s. As he comes into view you can tell he was already watching and waiting for you, but when he sees you walking in his direction you feel like you’re the only other person in the crowded room.

You’re suddenly ecstatic over Nic’s choice. His mouth is open again but his eyes drop from your face to your feet before they take a slow journey up your body. By the time you make it to the table, they’ve reached your eyes again and he flashes that smile. God I forgot about the smile.

He stands to greet you with a hand placed delicately at the small of your waist and the other grasping one of yours, but then he leans in and places a soft kiss to your cheek. It’s barely a brush of his lips over your skin but you weren’t expecting it, or the way you felt it jolt through your body like crackling electricity. When he pulls away your other hand comes up to place your fingertips to the spot.

“Oh…”

Hands still attached to you, he grins sheepishly with his bottom lip pulled between perfectly straight teeth. “You look… exquisite, really. Beautiful.” He drops his hold on your waist to run his hand through his hair and scratch the back of his head, shy again. “I love your dress.”

“Oh this old thing? Just threw it on.” You make a mental note to thank Nic. Exquisite is not an accolade you think you’ve ever received. He moves around you to pull your chair out and you’re pretty sure you’re hallucinating, or dreaming. Is he even real? When he’s seated across from you, you’re finally able to take in his appearance.

He’s in a white shirt again but this one has a small v at the neckline, and he’s added a long beaded necklace that ends below the edge of the table. You’re positive that ‘you’re one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen’ is not an appropriate compliment for a grown man with a mustache, but unfortunately when you open your mouth to tell him he looks handsome, a combination of the two escapes.

“You look pretty.” A hand is clasped over your mouth immediately as your face bursts into flames, but a loud bark of laughter causes several heads to turn in his direction before he reigns it in to a silent chuckle that shakes his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant-“

“No, please don’t apologize.” His smile stretches impossibly, every equally impossibly white tooth on display. “Thank you Y/N, I feel quite pretty right now.”

A waiter appears before you can fumble through another embarrassed apology and Josh orders a bottle of wine after asking what your favorite type is. He gracefully moves past the awkward moment and suggests looking over the menu, and when the waiter returns you’re ready to order.

You quickly find that you’ve covered so much small talk in the hours you’ve spent on the phone, that you pretty much have to dive into big talk. He tells you more about his job, which sounds like a dream more so than work, and you’re enthralled by the way he speaks about making music. When he asks about your life, you’re intentionally vague since your world seems a little boring and insignificant in comparison, but he hangs onto every word.

Hours later, after you’d finished your meal and given up your table to move to the bar, you found yourselves standing outside once again. Leaning against the driver’s side of your car, you watched as Josh slowly moved closer to you and placed his hand on your waist. This time when he leaned in, you’d been hoping for it and when he kissed your cheek and pulled away, you pulled him back in and pressed your lips to his.

He’d seemed surprised for just a second, but quickly his other hand was on you and he took half a step closer. Your bodies didn’t meet but you were sure that you were feeling exactly what they describe in books and cheesy movies. You could feel it across every inch of your skin, in every cell.

Fireworks.

You felt his lips break from yours but they found you again, two more gentle touches of your skin against his before he moved away to look at you.

“I should be driving you home.” A hand had found the side of your face and settled back at the base of your neck, keeping you so close that his breath, lightly scented of grapes, had fallen over your still-tingling lips.

“Maybe next time.”

⏰

“Wait, so you didn’t fuck him?”

“Hey! You’re on speaker…”

“Sorryyy. But why not? Do you not like him anymore?”

“Nic, have you even been listening? I like him a lot. He’s like… kind of perfect, actually.” You can feel yourself making moony eyes at nothing in particular as you say it.

“So what’s the issue? Are you gonna fu- sorry, do it next time?”

Next time. Next time was already tentatively scheduled for two weekends from now, as long as nothing fell through on your end.

“I don’t know, I’m not going to plan getting laid in advance. If it feels right then, we’ll see I guess.”

“Y/N you plan your entire life in advance. And I know for a scientific fact that you haven’t gotten any since that guy… shit I don’t even remember his name. That guy you dated for like two months. That was over a year ago!”

“Yeah and I fu- I slept with him after our second date. See how well that worked out?”

“It’s not your vagina’s fault that he was an asshole. Sorry, but he was. And Josh has already been around for weeks and your date was ‘kind of perfect’ as I recall. I mean, how did he react when you told him about-“

“Ihaven’ttoldhim.” It comes out as one huff of air.

“Oh. Ohhhh no.”

“I just like him so much.” Nic can hear the sorrowful frown in your voice. “I didn’t want to ruin it… yet.”

“You need to tell him. No matter the outcome, you need to tell him. I dunno babe, I feel like Josh might surprise you.”

⏰

You let him pick you up in front of your house. Waiting at the window to see him pull up, you didn’t give him the chance to get out of the car and come to your door but he didn’t seem to mind when you hopped into his Jeep and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“I would’ve opened the door for you, ya know.”

“I’m absolutely sure that you would have, but I’m a big girl. I can handle a little car door.” He lifts the corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin as he puts it in reverse and backs out of your driveway. “So where are we going?”

“Ah, to the movies of course.”

The movies ends up being a completely empty theater. There were plenty of people in the lobby when you’d entered, but you and Josh were escorted to an auditorium where he chose seats near the top in the middle. When no other patrons trickled in after about five minutes, you turned to look at him and found mischief in his eyes.

“Josh… what’s going on here?” You circle a finger in the air, gesturing to the empty room. “What are we even seeing?”

“An American classic, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers together and resting them on his thigh. He offers no further information but as if on cue, the lights go down and you can actually hear film as it starts rolling. The screen in front of you is lit but turns black before white letters appear in the center.

PSYCHO

Snapping your head to face him again, you find the mischief is still alight in his eyes and in the grin stretching across his mouth.

“How did you…?” Your whisper trails off but he understands your confusion.

“You don’t have to whisper, really. No one else will be joining us.” He takes in the way your jaw has dropped slightly and your eyebrows are tilted upward. “I know the owner. I put in a special request, told him my girl has never seen the greatest psychological thriller of the 20th century.”

My girl. His girl.

Stunned into silence, all you can do is return his grin and snuggle into his side as the black and white film continues to roll. Familiar with the premise of the movie but having never seen it, you were appropriately shocked by the twist revealed about halfway through, much to Josh’s delight. With your head lifted from its place on his shoulder, he reaches across himself to press the tips of his fingers into your jaw and turn you to him. You feel it again when his lips, soft and searching, meet yours. The tingle spreads through your body and lands distinctly between your thighs. When you cross them in Josh’s direction, he moves his hand from your jaw to rest just above your knee as your lips separate. He watches it move higher until his fingers are squeezing the muscle and you can feel the heat radiating from your own chest.

“Come home with me when the movie’s over.”

The heat turns into a flush of slight panic and he sees it flit across your features as you pull away.

“Sorry, no, it’s no pressure. Please don’t look like that.” The panic must be more obvious than you’d hoped as you try to fix your expression into something resembling poise and confidence. “I just- shit, Y/N I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to, I thought we were-“

He’s starting to ramble but his eyes widen when you reach a hand up to cup his cheek and you run your thumb across his lips.

“Next time. Is that okay?”

“Don’t ask me that. Anything you want is okay, more than okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

The drive back to your house was comfortably silent, music playing softly through the speakers as Josh drummed his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. His other hand was in your lap, wrapped around yours. When he pulled into the driveway and put the Jeep in park, he tightened his hold on your hand before telling you to stay in the car. You watched him get out and walk around to open your door, and laughed as you hopped down into his open arms that wrapped around you as your feet hit the pavement.

At your front door, nervous that he was going to ask to come in, you’d fidgeted with the edges along the zipper of his jacket that your hands had made their way to. His own were resting at your hips as he studied your face in the glow from the porch light.

“Thank you, Josh. That was really special, and very cool. No one’s ever taken me to an exclusive private screening before.” You’d giggled as he watched your lips move in silence. “Aren’t you gonna kiss me goodnight?”

“Oh I absolutely am, after you agree to see me again. Sooner, this time?”

“I’ll try my best for sooner, maybe next weekend. I will definitely let you know. Tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it…” He’d inched closer to you, pressed his body to yours for the first time as he pulled you against him.

“Please kiss me.”

And he did. Once your lips were touching he changed his hold on you, slid a hand up your back until it was tangled in your hair and you were gripping his jacket. He hummed into the kiss, the sound pulsed through your bloodstream and you’d let a quiet moan slip out and over his skin. You felt his hand turn into a fist full of your hair before his tongue slid out and over your bottom lip. Your hips had pushed into his as your own tongue sought his out and tasted him for the first time. A groan pushed it’s way from his throat and you accepted it hungrily as your hips moved again, this time against his very obvious arousal.

“Y/N…” His voice had dropped an octave or two, his forehead rested against yours.

“Next time, Josh. Next time.”

He’d kissed you again, pressed his lips to yours with a tender kind of force before pulling away and smiling that smile at you. “I’ll see you soon. And I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night, beautiful.”

You watched him hop down the two steps from your porch and practically skip down the driveway.

⏰

“Hasn’t it been like, over a month? We met them,” Jake pauses to calculate the time on his fingers, “almost six weeks ago. What’s the hold up?”

“There is no ‘hold up’, we’ve only gone out twice. I’m sorry her friend skewed your expectations of women by fucking you the same night she met you.”

“Whoa whoa, first of all, don’t be sorry that I get laid more than you. Second of all, my expectations are not skewed. I respect the sexual decisions of all people, not my business.” Josh rolls his eyes and begs his brother to get to the point. “I just thought you said she seemed into you. And it’s been six weeks.”

“Since you’re so concerned, I’m seeing her again tomorrow. Here. She’s gonna come here for dinner.”

“That’s great! Wash your fucking sheets you lazy bastard.”

⏰

You’re running late on your way to Josh’s house, having gotten held up and you’re working through a string of poorly constructed excuses in your head as you exceed the speed limit as safely as possible. When he opens his front door and welcomes you inside, your worry stays on the front porch. He smiled that smile, looked so happy just to have you in his space, that you instantly forgot you’d even shown up late.

As the door closes, the click of the lock rings through the entryway and you turn to each other expectantly. You make the first move, by a fraction of a second, and your bodies collide in a tangle of limbs just before his back meets the door. The kiss is a little messy, frantic as your tongues slip against each other and your hands roam. You’ve hardly touched him the whole time you’ve known him and you're almost surprised to feel lightly sculpted muscle under his t-shirt. He hasn’t let his hands move farther than up and down the expanse of your back but his fingertips are dragging across it, you both need to feel more.

Breaking the kiss, you’re breathing heavily as you murmur, “Sorry… I’ve been thinking about that for a week.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for that. You can do that as much as you want, when ever you want. I’ve been thinking about you too.” His grin is shy and lopsided again and you get just a peek of his teeth before he kisses you again. “Kick your shoes off if you want, you can leave your bag here, get comfortable. The tour will have to wait, I’m in the middle of cooking.”

He’s cooking me dinner.

Tugging you along by your hand, he guides you through the house to the kitchen, pointing out the obvious along the way. Livingroom, hallway (there’s a bathroom down there), stairs are over there.

“It smells amazing in here, what are you making?”

“Nothing crazy, just pasta.”

Nothing crazy looked an awful lot like a whole production. Thin strips of already seared steak as well as mushrooms, garlic, and various spices are prepped along the counter and red onion is simmering in a skillet. He checks the pasta boiling on a back burner before turning back to you with a bottle of red wine.

“This is too much Josh, really. It’s so nice of you.”

“I promise you it’s nothing. Or it’s really impressive and you’re extremely turned on by my culinary talents right now. Want a drink?”

“Yes please.” Taking a seat at his kitchen island, you watch him pour two glasses of wine. “We’ll have to wait until I taste it before I decide if it’s nothing or if I’m extremely turned on.”

He laughs with you but the truth is, you’ve been thrumming at a low frequency of arousal for the last week. The memory of your last kiss on your porch has been on heavy rotation, especially at night after you’ve just hung up the phone with him. You’d considered just taking care of it, several times, but you’ve been sure about your decision to take things further and concluded that you wanted your next orgasm not to be self-induced.

It’s been a long week.

Holding a glass out to you, Josh is staring like he’s trying to read your thoughts. You think letting him in a little could be fun.

“Thank you.” He smiles brightly before taking a sip from his own glass and setting it down to turn back to the stove. “Do you always work this hard when a girl already wants to sleep with you?”

His hand, stirring the noodles, comes to an abrupt stop as he whips his head to look at you over his shoulder. He takes a moment to formulate a response, but you haven’t rattled him as much as you hoped. “Only for the exceptionally captivating ones, mama.”

You sputter around the sip you’d just taken.

Turning back to the food, he just chuckles softly. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, my dear.”

The meal was close to complete in no time and you chat easily while he cooks. In moments of silence, he hums quietly and continues to add ingredients and stir, and as you watch his back move and flex beneath his shirt you realize he’s not using a recipe. It’s kind of sexy.

With a flourish, he wipes his hands with a towel from the counter and lifts them above his head as he tosses it back to the marble. “It is done!”

Clapping your hands softly and focusing on the strip of skin exposed by his lifted shirt, you congratulate him on his performance as he starts to plate the meal. At his wooden dining table, he pulls out a chair for you and waits until you’re seated to lean down and place a soft kiss to your lips. Once he’s sitting next to you, enough distance between your chairs so he can look at you easily, he smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“Moment of truth. Try it!”

He watches closely as you bring the fork to your mouth and close your lips around it. For effect, you pull it out slowly but the moment your eyes roll back in your head is not an act. After you’ve swallowed, which he also watched as if hypnotized, you take a sip of wine before speaking.

“I’m extremely turned on right now. Josh this is so fucking good! Do you cook a lot?”

His expression shows that he’s very pleased with himself, but his cheeks turn pink under your praise. “I do when I’m home and have the time, gotta keep things interesting. I’ve been working on perfecting this particular dish for a couple of years though… I’m glad it’s garnered the desired reaction.”

It doesn’t take long for both of your plates to be cleaned but you stay at the table slowly emptying the bottle of wine. Comfortable and satisfied, you’ve got a foot up in your chair, chin resting on your knee as you chat and Josh has put on music from his phone that’s bleeding out of some strategically placed and well hidden speakers.

“You strike me as a physical format type of guy when it comes to music. Don’t you have a record player or something around here somewhere?”

“Ha, I actually have three.” He’s not boasting, just stating a fact and also proving you correct. “I enjoy the concept of playlists though, creating a certain setting or mood appeals to me.”

At that moment, the silence of the last song’s ending is filled with soft acoustic guitar playing a familiar tune. Josh’s eyes instantly go soft as a wistful smile appears. Not wanting to disrupt the moment too much, you speak at a volume just above a whisper, “I love this song…”

He’s out of his chair instantly with a hand held out to you. “Dance with me?”

When you take his hand in yours, you’re pulled up into his arms that circle your waist as his palms meet your back. Looping your own arms around his neck, he moves in so that your cheeks are touching as he gently begins to sway. You’re not expecting it when he starts to sing along softly, his breath tickling over the shell of your ear.

Let me give my life to you

Let me drown in your laughter

Let me die in your arms

Let me lay down beside you

Let me always be with you

He seems to purposefully only hum the next few lines, taking the opportunity to press his lips to your hair before singing the rest as you continue to shift back and forth, wrapped in each other.

You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again

As the final notes float through the room, he kisses over your hair again before pulling back to look at you. The emotion swimming in your eyes is obvious and your pupils are blown wide, his own eyes bounce from yours then down to your lips and back.

“Josh…” Your mind is racing with thoughts that you know you need to speak out loud, this feels bigger than yourself but you can’t bring your mouth to form the words. Not yet. “Take me to bed…”

He doesn’t question it. He’s been sure that you’re exactly what he wants and he thinks you’re sure of it too, so he simply leads you to the stairs that he’d pointed out earlier and prompts you to ascend ahead of him. As you reach the top he moves you along with a palm against your lower back but at his open bedroom door, he pauses before guiding you through.

“You’re sure?” He feels like he knows the answer but couldn’t live with himself if he pressured you into it.

In response you take the lead and turn, pulling him into the room by the front of his shirt and into your body as your hands frame his face and then slip back into the curls at the base of his neck. He reaches back for the wall, searching for the light switch and you’re eternally grateful when it activates only a warm glow from two lamps equipped with Edison bulbs on either side of his bed.

“Interesting mood lighting you’ve got here, Josh.”

“Ehh, I don’t like harsh overhead light in my room. Ruins the energy.”

You’re giggling against his grin as you pull him into a kiss that quickly turns serious, and he moves you backwards until the backs of your knees meet the mattress. Lifting a leg, you move back over the surface then sink into it without hesitation and keep your grip on his shirt so his body follows, landing on top of yours. Held up by his hands pressed into the comforter on either side of your head, looking down at you with all sincerity, he asks if he can touch you.

Reaching up and circling his wrist next to your face, you guide his hand to move over your shoulder and down your chest until it reaches the bottom hem of your shirt that’s just barely ridden up your stomach. Once his fingertips meet the skin there, he takes over and slides his palm under your shirt and over your ribs until he’s got a handful of your breast. As he runs his thumb over the thin material covering your nipple, you answer.

“Everywhere. Touch me everywhere.”

He’d like to take his time, watch as every inch of your skin is revealed to him, but he’s been waiting for this. He’ll go slow next time.

Your shirt is being tugged up your body and you both shift to allow him to pull it over your head before you do the same to his. Leaned back and settled onto his knees, his chest is rising and falling with his breath as he tosses it to the floor to land next to yours. You let your eyes roam over each other for a moment before he’s leaned over you again and trailing his lips from your neck down to your clavicle. Propped up on one elbow, he lets his other hand explore your chest again, running fingers over the lacy material covering them before tentatively squeezing your breast. His hips move into yours involuntarily when you let a whimper slip out into the air next to his ear, but then he’s shifting his body to the side, next to you but still pressed fully against you. He captures your lips with his own as his hand slides down over your rib cage again and his fingertips meet the waist of your jeans.

Mouths still moving against each other’s, you nod your head in encouragement but he breaks the kiss to look at you.

You think he’s going to ask again but instead he moves his gaze down your bared torso until it lands where he’s touching you, and he watches as he pops the button and pulls the zipper down and skips touching you over your panties. His fingers delve past the lace and he groans as they skim over the little bit of hair there before landing on the soft skin of your core. When his eyes snap back to yours, you nod again as you shift and use your hands to push the denim past your hips and down your thighs until you can wiggle the jeans down and kick them to the floor.

His hand remains still, just cupped against you as you bend a knee and let your leg fall aside just enough that he can feel you spreading open to him under his fingers. Moving them, they slip through the arousal that’s pooled there and he bites back another groan.

“Fuck baby…” He slips them through again before moving them up and swirling a soft circle over your clit, your back arches off the bed. “So sensitive,” he chuckles lowly at your body’s reaction before circling over it again, “You want more?”

One of your palms is splayed out in the center of his chest but the other is gripping the bicep of the arm that’s extended over you. “Please, I’m gonna cum.” You’re not faking it, not being dramatic. The pent up sexual energy already feels like it’s threatening to spill over and while you’re not surprised in the slightest, his eyebrows have lifted in amused shock.

“Baby I’ve barely touched you.”

“Keep touching me.”

His fingers dip down to circle through the wetness at your entrance before he pushes one slowly past it. Your fingernails are digging into his arm, sure to leave tiny crescent-shaped marks on his otherwise flawless skin and he can feel your body clenching around his finger inside you as he pumps it slowly.

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

You try, you really do, and he can feel the tension release but as soon as he slips a second one inside, your body reacts the same way. He figures if it’s gonna happen, he should just enjoy it so he presses his palm over your clit while his fingers move and curl, buried deep. Your back has left the mattress again, he admires the way your skin stretches over your ribs for a moment before leaning down for a kiss. When his lips meet yours, your hand flies from his arm to the base of his neck to keep him there as your tongue begs for an entrance that he welcomes. Your hips are moving to meet the gentle thrust of his fingers, but he slides them from your cunt to press them to your clit again. He swallows the cry that rips from your throat, hums into it as he draws tight circles into your sensitive skin. His kiss moves from your lips to your cheek and when he reaches your ear he whispers, “Let go for me.”

The soft command grips your body and pulls you under. The string of oh and fuck and Josh spilling from your lips on repeat shoots straight to his dick and he’s silently praying that he’ll figure out a way to hear those words tumble from your mouth every day for the rest of his life. His fingers, swirling slowly against you, come to a stop as your body sinks back into the mattress and the fist curled into his hair releases its hold.

Your body is flushed and you can feel the heat on your chest and your cheeks, and when you’re able to crack your eyes open the sight of him is something to behold. The warm amber of his irises has almost completely disappeared around the deep black of his pupils, he looks drunk, and hungry, intoxicated and starving for more. Before he pulls his hand from your underwear he swipes his two fingers through your release, then brings them up to his mouth without thinking twice about it. You watch his lips, pink and perfectly shaped, close around them and his eyelids flutter the way yours had at your first taste of the meal he’d prepared.

When he pops his fingers out, he mumbles, “Next time. Next time, I need you to do that on my mouth.”

“Next time…”

Silence falls over the room and he lets his fingers trail over your skin, from your chest and over the lace of your bra, then down to circle around your navel. As soon as he’s paying closer attention to your stomach, it tenses and you hope he won’t notice your reaction but of course, he does.

“Sensitive everywhere huh?” His lips are stretched into a grin and you allow his question to be the explanation.

“Yeah… Josh?” His reply is a soft hum. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

It sounds vulgar coming from your mouth, but he feels his heart rate speed up and blood rush to his dick again.

“No.” He answers simply.

“No?”

“No. It’ll be a little more romantic than that, I think.”

With that, he rolls and stands from the bed and you scoot yourself up to the pillows as you watch him move to undo the button at the waist of his pants. The muscles of his arms and chest bunch and flex as he moves, his stomach tenses when he pushes the fabric over his hips and it drags over… oh.

Nic was right.

Still covered by the cotton of his briefs, his dick is hard and sitting to the right, and it’s… impressive. He looks up to find your eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. He’s not unused to that reaction but something about it being you causes his dick to twitch under your stare and he reaches a hand down to rub his palm over it. The small groan that passes his lips snaps you out of it and you look him in the face, expecting some kind of cocky grin or retort.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll get a complex.”

Of course he finds the humor in the situation, but you’re a little intimidated. You decide to be honest about it, “We can’t have that. Um, Josh?”

He’s slipped his thumbs under the elastic at the top of his underwear, about to pull them down but he pauses. “Hm?”

“I haven’t- um… it’s been a while, since…”

Understanding softens his features and he smiles as he abandons removing his briefs and kicks his pants from his ankles before crawling onto the bed. “Do you… wanna stop?”

“No. I don’t. Just…”

“I’ll be careful with you, gorgeous girl. I promise.” He crawls over your body, knees straddling one of your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before placing another on your lips. When your arms circle him and your hands skim over the smooth skin of his back, he shifts his knee until it’s resting against you between your thighs. Your hips move, grinding your still covered pussy over him but he makes no further moves even as you whine into the kiss.

“Mm, do you wanna take these off?” A fingertip is running along the top of your underwear and dips just below it. You nod your head and he pushes himself up to slide them down your legs, trailing their journey down with his eyes until they slip past your toes and he tosses them away. His hands take that journey back up and when they reach your knees, he gently pushes them apart. He only lets his gaze linger on your bare cunt for a moment before he raises it to your face and asks if you want your bra off too. When you nod again he smiles and pulls you to sit up, reaches around you and unclasps it expertly with one hand. You let it fall forward, nervous for him to see every part of you but when you pull it away and toss it to the floor his eyes light up.

“Undeniably worth the wait, my pretty, pretty girl. You get more lovely every time I look at you.”

“I wanna see you too.”

He flashes that smile, wide and bright. “By all means, my dear.” He gestures down to his body with both hands.

You scramble to reach for the waist of his underwear, impatient and embarrassed that he’d felt the need to stop removing them just to soothe your nerves. Tugging them down his hips and over the length of him, his cock springs up once it’s freed but hangs heavy between you.

“Oh my god.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it’s out there now so you figure you might as well go with it. “I know I’m not the first person to tell you this but… you’re kind of perfect, everywhere.” He responds with a sharp laugh and before you can get your hands on him he pushes you softly back to the pillows and begins to push the fabric the rest of the way down to his knees. Once he’s wriggled out of them he kicks the briefs away, the last piece to join the clothing’s now scattered over his bedroom floor. Lying across his bedding, spread out for him, wet and waiting, he wonders over how it is that you still look so innocent and completely untainted.

“You look like a flower.” You lift an eyebrow in question alongside a hand to coax him back to you, which he accepts. When his body is hovering over yours again, his dick nestled between your thighs and resting against the slick moisture coating your flesh there, he leans in closer to whisper, “Soft and pink, delicate and naturally beautiful. You look like a flower. My flower.”

You crane your neck to capture his lips, and he kisses you back firmly, pushing you back into his pillows. Snaking a hand down between your bodies, you run it over his stomach until you reach the base of him, wrapping your fingers around him. A soft hmph huffs against your mouth at the contact, the first time you’ve touched him there. You’ve hardly touched him at all but he doesn’t seem to mind right now as you’re guiding him to your cunt and the head of him is nudging you, begging for entry. He reaches down to replace your hand with his, rubs himself through your arousal before asking if you’re ready.

“So ready, please…”

Slowly, so so slowly, he pushes into you. As your hands move up his arms and over his shoulders he keeps his eyes on your face, searching for any sign that he should stop, but he doesn’t find one as he rocks his hips and eases in inch by inch.

“Jesus, flower, you’re so fucking tight. Relax for me.”

“I am relaxed, keep going…”

Not sure that you’re telling the truth, but positive that you can handle him, he thrusts into you to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You can’t help it yelping out of you but there’s nothing but pleasure behind it.

Throat tight, he asks if you’re okay and you’re quickly assuring him with a nod of your head, soft words of confirmation and finally pulling him in to connect your lips. You move your hips, encouraging him to do the same and the drag against your walls as he pulls back draws a low moan from deep in your chest. His thrust back into you knocks the air from your lungs and your mouths part as you gasp to get it back.

He rests his forehead against yours as he moves inside you, settling into a slow rhythm of deep strokes that are lighting you up from the inside out.

“So fucking good, you feel so good Jesus fuck,” his typical eloquence leaves the room as you squeeze around him. “Mm tell me, let me hear you.” He delivers a harder thrust, punching a string of expletives past your lips. Instantly drunk on your hazy murmurings, he picks up the speed of his hips until your legs wrap themselves around him and a heel is digging into the flesh high on his backside.

“Just like that, it’s perfect, perfect…” He doesn’t change a thing as you trail off, but your own hips are pushing into his and the sounds of skin meeting skin are echoing through his room.

“Gonna move, just a little bit. Need to see you.” When your head nods he pushes up from you, the skin of your chests audibly separates, a thin layer of sweat having formed between you. Hovering over you, you watch his eyes move down your body but they stop and focus on your chest, tits bouncing with every thrust of his hips. When he moves lower and realizes the view he wants is still obstructed, he lifts further and settles back on his heels, hands wrapped around the small of your waist and pulling you into him. Now he can see everything, but what he’s interested in rests between your legs and he zeroes in on it. His eyes squeeze shut as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to wake up but when they open he’s still watching your pussy suck him in, over and over again.

“God, look at you. Taking it all, I knew you could. A perfect fit, fuck…” His words have you clenching around him. “So good for me, perfect.” He lifts his eyes to your face and finds your eyes closed and mouth open, soft sounds of your pleasure floating from it. “Look at me, beautiful.”

You obey, opening your eyes and instantly moaning a low oh my god at the vision above you. You’ve never seen anything like him, he’s definitely meant to be naked, every inch of him is flawless. His normally fluffy curls have gone loose, damp and sticking across his forehead and his jaw is clenched tight even as he smiles at your expression.

You let your gaze roam over his chest to his stomach, the muscles there are tight as he pumps his hips into you. The v that leads down to where you’re connected stands out, the low light from either side of the bed casting perfect shadows.

“How- ohh… how are you real?” The thing you’ve been wondering for weeks leaves your throat as a whining question.

“Mm, I’m real, my flower. Don’t you feel me everywhere? Here?” One of his hands moves from your waist and comes to rest flat against the skin under your navel, pressing into it. You confirm, yes yes I feel you, and he moves his hand higher, skimming it up your stomach and the center of your chest and letting it land there, over your heart.

“Here? Do you feel me here too?”

You do, you know you’ve been holding him there since well before your first date, your first kiss.

“Yes, yes Josh. I feel you there.”

His expression goes soft and wistful, as it had downstairs before he’d asked you to dance. “I feel it too. I think before I even spoke to you…” The rhythm of his hips has slowed again as he lets himself get lost in his feelings for you. “There’s just something about you…”

One of your hands that have been anchored to him wrapped around his forearms, moves to rest over his on your chest, you want to remember this moment exactly how it is. Just you and him, bodies connected and letting yourselves admit that something more has been happening here. Lacing your fingers together, you’re gripping this moment tight because you know it’ll change, and soon. You pull his hand up to your lips and place kisses to his knuckles before moving it down your body until you’re pressing it into your mound, just above where he’s still moving when gentle purpose.

“Touch me, make me cum. I wanna cum for you, give you everything.” You can feel his cock pulse inside you before he starts thrusting against the backs of your thighs harder and faster again, and he slips his thumb to run over the slick arousal that’s spread over your skin. As soon as he swirls it over your clit, your back leaves the bed.

“Are you always so… responsive?”

Breathless from the emotion and burning under his touch you tell him no, it’s him, it’s all him. The words squeeze his heart and he feels you fluttering around his cock as he adds just a little pressure to his movements over your flesh. “Yes just like that, just like that, I’m there Josh. Don’t stop!”

“Give it to me, beautiful. So pretty when you let go.”

Your body obeys, the explosion of colors behind your eyelids when they snap shut is just like him. Bright and consuming, all that you can see and feel around you as everything else disappears.

Above you, he watches you writhe against his pillows, feels your cunt clench around him impossibly tighter, basks in the sweet curses rolling off your tongue. He’s hanging on by a thread to his own release, fucking into you softly as yours moves through you. When your legs slip from around his hips and your feet hit the bed, he whispers a request for you to open your eyes and look at him again.

You can barely hear him over the buzz in your head, but as soon as you can crack your eyes open and focus on him he’s pulling out of you quickly and stroking himself over you. You watch his mouth fall open as he spills over, his hot release hitting your stomach and pooling there. When the last of it lands below your navel he whimpers before he pulls his hand away and takes a few heaving breaths. You open your mouth to speak but he leans over you and swallows your words, lips and tongues pushed together and bringing your pairing to a soft closing.

He lets his body drop and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, unconcerned about the mess now trapped between you. As you bring a hand up to run over the dampened curls at the back of his neck, he speaks into your skin, “Absolutely worth the wait. I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you.”

You think it might be a poetic version of the truth, and it’s heart wrenching. Your feelings are the same but you’ve been hiding a part of yourself that you should’ve revealed the first time you met. Now is not the moment, and you’re not sure exactly when the right time could possibly present itself, too far gone. Resigning to the fact that as perfect as this feels, you’re going to ruin it soon, you decide to let it wait. Just a little longer.

Josh eventually, begrudgingly lifted himself from you and left to clean up, returning with a warm cloth to do the same for you. He asked you to stay and you agreed, but told him you had to leave in the morning, you have to meet someone sort of early. Not questioning it, he settled you both under his comforter and pulled you close, lulling you into sleep with kisses pressed into your hair.

⏰

You wake up before him, the sun is already high in the sky and you can tell by the way it’s streaming across his face when you open your eyes.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Jolting up, you leave the bed without bothering to wake him or attempting not to, plucking your clothes up from around his room and tossing them onto the bed as you find them. When he sits up and finds you pulling your shirt over your head, the rest of you already clothed, he asks what time it is.

“I slept too late Josh, I have to pick up Sam-“

“Wait, what? You have to pick up Sam? Why are you picking up my brother?”

Oh god.

“Not your brother. Josh I don’t have time for this, I have to go.” He watches you leave his room as he jumps out of bed to find his pants, tugging them on as he follows you. You’re almost at the front door when his hand wraps around your arm.

“Y/N stop. Talk to me. Who is Sam?” His eyebrows are knitted together as he searches your face for an answer. “What’s going on?”

You let your head fall back as you stare at the ceiling, willing the right words to come to you. None of the words you come up with are going to make this any easier, a defeated sigh floats from your lips and up into the air before you face him. He looks confused, obviously, but there’s a little bit of fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” It’s hardly a whisper, you’re not sure you even said it but the fear behind his eyes slips into sadness.

“Y/N… please just tell me what is happening here. I’m very confused.”

“Sam is my son.”

His hold on your arm loosens until his hand falls to his side. He’s studying your face as if your expression will bring him some clarity but he only finds regret there. “What?”

“I have a kid. His name is Sam. Ironically enough.”

Now that you’ve repeated it, it’s sinking in. “You have a child.”

You wonder how many times you’ll each have to say it out loud before he’s kicking you out of his house. “I do. And he is my whole world, Josh. Or he was, until I met you.”

He shakes his head and huffs out a sardonic laugh. “And you didn’t think I should know about that? You didn’t think you should tell me that before I let myself fall for you?” It chokes you into silence, the hurt tightens your throat and burns your eyes as your vision blurs. “I think you should go. Go get Sam…”

You turn and walk out the door before he can see you cry.

⏰

How many times can a toddler ask you why you're sad before you have a full mental breakdown? You’re pretty sure you’ll soon find out, Sam is too smart for his own good and too intuitive for yours.

Josh hasn’t called. You haven’t spoken to him in weeks and all you could do was fall back into your regular routine of wake up, drop Sam off at daycare, work, pick him up, playtime, dinnertime, bathtime, bedtime. Every day, and Josh hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t asked his brother to ask your friend how you’re doing. It’s been over two weeks.

⏰

“You’re being a fucking idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re being stupid.”

“Jake she lied to me. And not something small, she failed to tell me about an entire human life that she created. A whole child. For months.”

They’ve already had several versions of this conversation. Josh had called his brother the same day that you’d left his house, screaming incoherently about sex and lies and Sam but before Jake could make any sense of it his twin was crying over the line.

He’s pissed off, sure, but more than anything he’s hurting. Jake had told him to reach out to you, to clear the air, and most importantly to apologize for shutting you out.

“I get it, Josh. I do, I fully comprehend why you’re upset. But correct me if I’m wrong, you have feelings for her, yes?” Josh, head in his hands propped up on elbows rested on his knees, grumbles a confirmation. “And you miss her. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. What’s the issue?”

Snapping his head up to face his twin, he throws an incredulous look in his direction. “What’s the issue? She hid him from me. I had no fucking clue. I’m sitting here building a fucking life with her in my head and I don’t even know her.”

Jake nods in understanding, turning Josh’s words over in his head before responding. “So it’s not that she has a kid, it’s that she didn’t tell you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now. Yes, she deliberately lied to me.”

“You like kids.” Josh just shakes his head, suddenly infuriated with how flippant his brother is being over something that he deems extremely serious. “You actually love kids. Everybody knows that.”

“Your point?”

“Like I said, you’re being an idiot. Do you love her?”

Josh sits up and leans back in his chair, scrubs his hands over his face then runs his fingers over his mustache before scratching at his chin. “Yeah, I think I do, but-“

“And you don’t think you could love her child? Why? Because he’s not yours?”

“I never said that. It has nothing to do with-“

“Stop being stupid about this. Call her.”

⏰

The days crawled by, each one the same aside from nights that Nic would come over for dinner, help you put Sam to bed and then sit with you for hours. Filling the empty time that you used to spend on the phone with Josh.

Tonight is not one of those nights, and you’re sitting in front of your tv as some mindless reality show drones on. You almost jump out of your skin when your phone starts ringing on the table in front of you, but your heart is hammering in your chest when you pick it up to see Josh on the screen. It’s a picture you took of him at the bar on your first date, he’s leaned on one elbow over the bartop, smiling that smile, cheeks rosy and eyes focused beyond the camera lens. Focused on you.

You almost miss it, your hesitation to answer losing out right before it can go to voicemail.

“Hello?” You’re met with silence, he doesn’t answer right away and you think maybe he’s called accidentally, phone in his pocket as he’s out living his life without you. “Josh?”

“God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” His own sounds constricted, tight with emotion though you can’t imagine why. He cut you off and you’ve wallowed in your own misery alone.

“What do you want?” You can’t help but cut to the point, almost angry that he’d dare reach out and open with a line akin to I miss you.

“Just to talk. I know I should’ve called you sooner. Actually, I know I shouldn’t have even let you leave. Not like that… Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“You’re right. You should’ve called.” You know he had every right to be upset with you, but to go weeks with complete radio silence and call out of the blue with an apology seems too little, too late.

“I’m actually outside.”

You’re on your feet and moving to the window before you respond, and you move the curtain aside to find his Jeep in the driveway. “Go home, Josh. Now is not the time, Sam’s here and he’s asleep- actually I don’t owe you a reason. Just go home.”

He immediately does the opposite and you watch him climb out of his car and walk toward your porch. “Come outside and talk to me. Please, flower.” By the time he says it, he’s looking at you through the window with pleading eyes.

You sigh deeply before ending the call.

When you step out onto the porch you can see him fighting the urge to touch you, and you keep your body close to the closed door behind you.

Looking you over, he takes in your outfit, sweatpants and a hoodie, your hair tied up in a knot at the top of your head, eyes tired and a little sad. Also a little angry. “Beautiful as always.”

Unfortunately his words have the same effect on you that they always have, and you feel a blush creep over your cheeks. “Don’t. Please just say what you need to say.”

“Okay…” He takes a deep breath and you know he’s about to deliver a monologue. It’s just how he is, so you try to mentally prepare yourself but anything you could’ve expected is tossed aside immediately.

“To say I reacted poorly would be an understatement. I hope you can understand that my complete shock was not unfounded, I’m sure you know that. But you may not know exactly why I was surprised to find out that you’re a mother, especially after hours, and hours spent getting to know you.” He pauses to take another deep breath, you nod at him to continue and he inches just barely closer to you.

“I thought I knew you already. I spent a lot of time thinking about you, when we weren’t together or on the phone, I was thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you. I’ve always dreamt of you. I think that’s why I was so drawn to you when we met… I’ve known you in my dreams for years.”

He’s taken a full step closer to you now, his fingertips are aching to reach out and touch you but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“The problem is, in my dreams we built this fantasy life together. The whole thing, we fall in love, a whirlwind romance really and you let me whisk you away. Travel the world with me, do everything you could’ve ever imagined. We have babies, if you want them, and they’re perfect little manifestations of our love.”

You haven’t moved from your spot, arms crossed as he speaks but silent tears have spilled over onto your cheeks and you let them fall, dropping to the ground at your feet. His fantasy of you is exactly that, and it’s something you could never give him. Not the way he’s imagined it.

His hands come up to cup your face and he moves in until the toes of his shoes are touching your slippers. You let him wipe your tears away with his thumbs and he keeps your jaw cradled in his hands as he continues.

“Now the other problem is, when you told me about him, about Sam, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know you at all. Like you had kept such a big part of yourself from me, that that life I had dreamed of was impossible. It took awhile but I’ve realized something.”

He wants you to speak, to let him know that you need to hear his next words.

“What?” It whispers past your lips and he leans in to press his against them. You can’t help but to kiss him back. When it breaks, he rests his forehead against yours and continues.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, my beautiful girl. My flower. And I could love him too, if you give me the chance. How could I not love every part of you?”

You release a sobbing breath and he pulls back to look at you. “Please stop crying, I don’t want you to cry anymore. Not because of me.”

“It’s just not that easy Josh.”

“It can be. Let me try. How old is he?”

“What?”

“How old is Sam?”

You can feel him trying, he wants to know more so you wipe your tears and give him more. “He’s three. Three and a half, really.”

“Three… it’s a good age. You know, Jake started playing guitar at three. Prodigy, that one.” It makes you laugh, exactly as he’d hoped. “Y/N… will you give me the chance to show you? I can do this, I want to.”

“Okay…”

“Okay?” There it is, that smile, perfectly imperfect and wide and bright and all for you.

“Yeah… yeah. On one condition.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. “Kiss me again and then go home. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Oh absolutely, my dear.”

⏰

“What have you told him about me?”

You’re sitting across from Josh at a table in the same restaurant he’d chosen for your first date. His curiosity makes you chuckle.

“I already told you, he still doesn’t know what a boyfriend is. No concept whatsoever.” Boyfriend. He grins like a little kid every time you say it, and it’s probably why he asked, again, if you’d talked to Sam about him. “He’s seen pictures of you. He knows your name, and knows I spend time with you when he’s at grandma’s house. He also knows that you like movies and you play the vocals, as requested.”

“When can I meet him?” Ah, that question. Though you’ve technically been with Josh for almost four months, you’re still not sure what the right answer is.

“Soon, I think. Maybe you can… I don’t know, go to the park with us or something. I just don’t want to confuse him too much, babe.”

Satisfied for the moment, he leans back in his chair and smirks at you over the table. “Ya know, if you’d let him get to know me, I wouldn’t have to sneak into your house after bedtime to fuck his pretty mama while she bites the pillows to keep quiet.”

“Josh! You’re disgusting.” You feign offense but you’re laughing with him as you throw your napkin at his face.

When you leave the restaurant, he drives you home and follows you inside. You lead him through the house, past the scattered Hot Wheels, monster trucks and Legos that tend to litter the floor of your living room, into your bedroom where he lets you undress him slowly. With your lips wrapped around him, cock nudging the back of your throat, he reminds you that he loves you. When his tongue is lapping at you, softly drawing you nearer and nearer to release, he shows you that he loves you.

When he’s buried inside you, whispering praise into your ear, calling you his flower, a goddess, you feel that he loves you.

⏰

One more month. You gave it one more month before you told Sam you were going to meet Josh at the park.

“Josh at the park!” He’s going through a phase where he repeats everything you say.

“Yep! Remember, Josh is mommy’s boyfriend. Is that okay?”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend is okay. Go outside?”

His beautiful one-track mind makes you giggle. “Yes sweet boy, let’s go outside.”

You’d told Josh where to meet you, instructed him on how to approach your child, coached him on what to say.

“Flower, I love kids. I myself am just a slightly bigger kid. I can handle this.”

Nervous as you make your way to the park, hauling Sam behind you in a red wagon, you think that maybe you should call Josh and remind him of what to do. On cue, your phone starts to ring in your back pocket and you stop walking to keep your eyes on Sam as you answer.

“Hey babe, we’re almost there.”

“I thought you might be. Do me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Tell him I’m excited to meet him, and stop worrying. It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll tell him. We’ll be there in a few.”

“See you soon, my love.”

Minutes later you’re rolling the wagon to a stop next to a red and blue bench and Sam is already bounding out of it and toward the slides. You know you don’t have to worry about him on the smaller ones but you hesitate to sit down, preferring to stand a little closer to the playground just in case. When a pair of hands come to rest on your shoulders, you grin as Josh leans into your ear and immediately asks where is he? Having seen hundreds of pictures and videos of Sam, he easily spots him amongst the few children begrudgingly taking turns going up and then coming down the slides when you point in their direction.

“Can I go, mama?”

He’s literally vibrating with excitement, you can feel it in his palms that have moved to hold onto your upper arms.

“Go ahead. Have fun!”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then whispers against it, “I love you. Thank you.”

With that he leaves you, and you watch closely as your worlds are about to collide. Josh approaches the playground casually, and waits until Sam comes down the slide. Crouching down on one knee, he waves your baby over to him and the only part of the conversation you can overhear is the very start.

“Josh at the park!”

You smile as your vision clouds and you blink the tears away before they can fall.

When Sam reaches him, Josh smiles brightly. “Hey Sam, I’m Josh.”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend Josh.”

“That’s right, that’s me! It is sooooo nice to meet you, bud.”

“Nice to meet you bud.” Josh chuckles, remembering what you’ve said about how he repeats things in lieu of actually replying.

“Hey, Sam. Do you think I could play with you for a bit?”

“Play on the swide?”

“Yeah, can I go down the slide with you?”

“Go down the swide Josh! C’mon!” Sam reaches for Josh’s hand and grabs onto two fingers before tugging at it. Josh stands and let’s him “pull” him to the steps, looking back at you over his shoulder. His eyes find yours as you flick a stray tear away with your finger tips and smile. He uses his free hand to give you a thumbs up before he’s being pushed by the backs of his knees to climb steps.

You watch your son push your boyfriend up the tiny steps to go down the slide ahead of him. Josh is laughing when he comes down, the trip especially short for a grown man, even a rather small one. When he reaches the bottom, he turns and squats at the end of the slide, and you watch with fresh tears in your eyes as your baby lands in Josh’s arms. He’s wrapped up and lifted into them, smiles stretched across both of their faces and you can hear Josh’s raspy laughter mixing with Sam’s giggles that you love so much.

What you can’t hear, when Josh shifts Sam onto his hip and points in your direction, is Josh telling him, “Hey buddy, let’s go see your mommy real quick. She looks like she needs a big hug.”

Josh sets him down and he runs to you, arms wide open so you kneel to meet him with open arms of your own. Over his tiny shoulder, you watch Josh walk toward you both, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants and a soft grin on his lips.

“Mommy needed a big hug.”

You pull away to look at your son, his face so similar to your own, for which you’ve been grateful for the last almost four years. “Yeah baby, I did need a hug. You give the best hugs.”

“Are you sad?”

“Not at all, I’m very happy. Are you having fun on the slides?”

“Fun with Josh on the swide. Josh is fun!”

You look up at him, a man you’d completely underestimated, and find him swiping his fingers over his cheeks and grinning that sweet lopsided grin. Eyes still on Josh, you reply, “He is fun isn’t he? Go play some more sweetheart, I need to talk to Josh for a minute. Then we can go on the swings.”

“I go on the swings!” Sam repeats your words before bouncing away, past Josh and back to the slide.

Josh steps forward and offers his hand to pull you to your feet. “I told you it would be fine. He’s so great, Y/N, really.”

You keep his hand in yours and pull him to sit with you on the bench, with your eyes still focused in the direction of the playground. “He’s really special. I- um, his dad has never been in the picture. Didn’t want anything to do with either of us when I told him I was pregnant.”

Josh hasn’t ever asked for further information on Sam’s father. It was clear that he wasn’t involved, your mom and sometimes Nic being the only people you ever mention helping you with him, but this admission only further solidifies what he’d already been feeling. He squeezes the hand that’s clasped in his, his eyes also on your son. “I’m here. Look at me, just for a second.” You both pull your eyes from the playground to look into each other’s. “I love you. Don’t you think I can take care of you? Both of you?”

“I love you too… Josh this is a big thing you’re offering, I don’t think you understand how big. He’s… not yours. You don’t have to-“

“Hm, that’s where you’re wrong, my beautiful girl. My beautiful girl, you are mine to love and take care of, yeah?” He waits for you to confirm, which you do with a nod of your head. “Then he’s mine too.”

Hours later, after many trips down the slide, careful pushes on the swing and lots of baby giggles, Sam began yawning and showing Josh another side of himself. He’d gotten easily upset with another child over whose turn it was to scramble up the tiny climbing wall, and when you’d reminded him that he needs to share, he’d yelled a frustrated no in your face. You knew what needed to be done but Josh seemed to know as well, and he’d scooped Sam up into his arms.

“Hey buddy, I think it’s time to go home and chill out. Let’s go, what do you think?”

Rubbing his eyes, Sam had said, “What do you fink?”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Let’s go home.”

“Josh go home too.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take you home.”

He moved toward the bench, you thought he was going to place Sam down in the wagon but he grabbed the handle and started to pull it toward where his Jeep was parked.

“Josh you can’t drive us home.”

“Why’s that, flower?” You’d followed behind him as he reached the Jeep and unlocked it, swung the back passenger door open to reveal a car seat. You stood there, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as he turned to face you, Sam’s head rested on his shoulder. “I did the research, I know it’s the right one for his weight. I even drove to a fire station to make sure it was strapped in the right way. Did you know they do that? You wanna buckle him in? I’ve never done it before.”

Struck speechless, you’d taken your child from his arms and climbed up to buckle him in as Josh pulled the wagon around and stuffed it into the back of the Jeep. Once you were in the passenger seat and Josh had climbed in beside you, you’d told him he didn’t have to do all of this.

“I think that I did, babe.”

⏰

“Oh fuck, just like that baby, just like that.”

Josh growls in response and you can feel yourself clamp down around him. He feels it too and leans to the side to see your face, cheek pushed into his sheets, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

“Like that?” He’s pumping his hips against your ass, one hand gripping it tight and the other wrapped around your hipbone. He delivers a sharp thrust that pushes your body forward but the sheen of sweat on your face keeps you stuck in place. “Pretty girl likes it a little rough?”

He knows that you do, sometimes, when the mood strikes. It had struck hard earlier in the night, and you’d practically tackled him the moment you heard his front door click behind you. His back had slammed against it as your body collided with his, a hand immediately sliding down his torso and lower to palm his cock over his jeans. You’d felt it begin to harden under your touch as your tongue slid against his, before you pulled off of his mouth to lick a wet stripe over the sharp angle of his jawline.

“Want you in my mouth, let me taste it.”

He’d groaned against the shell of your ear.

Not long after, he’d lifted you off your knees from the floor and thrown you over his shoulder, hauled you up to his bed and you’d torn the clothes from each other’s bodies.

Now, he’s fucking into you, eyes bouncing from the delicious view of himself retreating and disappearing into your pussy stretched around him, to the expanse of your back, the graceful curve of it arched below him. He hears you mumbling against the mattress, begging for harder and more, and as always he’s trying his best to give you whatever you need despite the bruises you might have on the backs of your thighs tomorrow.

“Christ, I can feel you baby, are you gonna cum for me?”

You’d snaked a hand between your body and the bed and you’re doing your best to swirl frantic circles over your clit, moaning in response to his question. He needs to feel you let go, he wants to flip you over so he can see your face when you do but you’re so close already. He can wait.

When it hits you, he slows his hips to work you through it slowly, drawing it out as long as he can. The way you’d yelped out his name and then continued to murmur it softly into the sheets let’s him know that it’s working. He’s not there yet, and when he feels your muscles relax around him he slips out of you and lets you sink to the mattress. Using his hands to encourage you to roll over, he soaks in the dopey smile on your face once you’re looking up at him.

“Did that feel nice, flower?” You nod your head lazily and reach for him, running your hands over the sticky skin over his ribs before wrapping your arms around his back. “Are you gonna let me back in? I’m not done with you yet.” You let your legs fall open wide, inviting him to settle between them. He slips back inside as he tucks his face into your neck, pressing his lips along the column of your throat. His hips start moving again, he’s really just rocking into you but it’s deep and persistent and you know that sometimes this is just exactly what he needs.

“Mm, I love you like this mama, so sweet and soft for me after you get what you want.”

“Lucky for you, I always get what I want.” He chuckles at that and nips at your neck.

“You do, don’t you? Aren’t I always so good for you?”

His question warms your cheeks and tugs at your heartstrings. He wants to hear your praise and you know him well enough to know that he’s probably about to surprise you with some other minor kink he’s been hiding. You’re correct of course, and you’re definitely surprised.

He pulls away from your neck to hover over you, pets a hand over the damp hair at your temple and settles his hold against the side of your head. He nudges the tip of his nose against yours before he pulls a gentle kiss from your lips. When he opens them again, his eyes are begging for the words.

“You’re so good Josh, always perfect for me.” It causes his hips to break their rhythm momentarily as he twitches inside you.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

His voice drops to a whisper. “Let me fill you up, give you another baby.”

Oh.

Your brain turns it over rapidly. It wasn’t a real discussion you’d had, but even though you’d gotten back on birth control months ago and you’ve been together for almost a year, you’ve been using condoms all this time. Unless you didn’t, in which case he’d never even asked, he just didn’t cross that boundary. He’d paint your body with his release and you’d welcome it.

“Please.” His voice sounds strangled now, he’s hanging on by a thread and begging again for a response, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You wanna be a daddy, Josh?”

He clamps his eyes shut for a moment, a deep groan rumbles through him. He liked that, that’s obvious but it’s not a confirmation. “I’m already a daddy, my love. A damn good one. But I wanna see you all round and glowing with my baby inside you.”

A soft moan passes your lips. This is working for you in a way you would never have expected, and you can tell by the way he’s trapped his bottom lip between his teeth that it’s working for him too.

“Do it, cum for me. Inside.”

“Yeah… m’gonna knock you up, pretty girl. Make you a mama again. Fuck-“ His hips push into you hard and you can feel him spilling deep inside you as his mouth crashes into yours. You let him inside you there too, connected everywhere that you possibly could be. He stays tucked inside after he cums, and you whisper love into each other’s ears as you run your fingers up and down his back and over his shoulder blades.

When he finally lifts himself from your chest, propped up and smiling down at you, he surprises you again.

“You and Sam should move in with me.”

⏰

Things were not always perfect, but they usually came pretty close.

Josh had to leave sometimes, which you’d always known, he’d traveled for weeks at a time over the years, sometimes months and while it was never particularly easy, you and Sam got along just fine at home alone. As you always have.

He would call often, as much as he possibly could, and over FaceTime he would tell you all about what’s gone wrong, what’s gone right, and how he wished you were there with him.

“Where’s my boy? Isn't it almost bedtime? Lemme talk to him.”

You called for your now six-year-old who came running into the room, sliding to a stop and jumping onto the couch.

“DAD!! Dad I lost a tooth today, look!” He stretches his lips into a wide grin, showing Josh that one of his front teeth is in fact missing. “Mom said I have a gap like yours.”

You’re stifling a laugh with your palm as Josh flashes his own gap-toothed grin.

“That’s awesome buddy, I heard the tooth fairy is giving out crisp hundred dollar bills for high quality teeth like that one. I hope she delivers.” Your eyes roll back in your head, knowing you’ll have to make that happen. Josh notoriously spoils this kid. “Hey, someone else wants to say hi real quick.”

Josh passes the phone off and you see both of his brothers squeezing together to fit on the screen at the same time. Sam squeals in delight as Uncle Jake and “Big Sam” tell him that they’d heard that front teeth were worth $200.

“Nice hair dude, you’re gonna look just like me soon!”

“No, he looks like me. His namesake.”

Little Sam had decided he wanted to grow his hair out, and you’d let him give it a go. In reality, it just makes him look even more like you but you’ve decided not to hurt their feelings. Which is why you also choose not to reveal the truth, that he’d told you he wanted long hair because “Uncle Jake is so cool, Mom.” Sorry, Sammy.

When Josh takes the phone back, he tells you both how much he loves and misses you, and tells Sam that he better be good because he’ll be home soon and if he’s not good, he won’t get any of the gifts that are packed in Josh’s luggage.

The reunions were sweeter after the two of you had moved into Josh’s house, just a couple months after he’d first floated the idea. He would come home, to your shared home to be greeted first by your little boy and you’d watch as Josh kneeled to the floor to envelop him in a crushing hug that would make them both laugh wildly. He would scoop your baby up as he stood, keep him propped on his hip as he made his way to where you stood. His other arm would circle your waist and he’d pull you in to press his lips to yours, and Sam would make exaggerated sounds of disgust until Josh delivered a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s good to be home. I missed you guys so much.”

⏰

“Hey Sam, can you come with me real quick? I need to talk to you about something.”

You lift an eyebrow in question that Josh ignores as he leaves the kitchen with Sam, who’s happy to abandon his homework at the dining table.

Up in Sam’s room, which used to be a second guest bedroom (why Josh needed a house so big when he lived by himself, you’ll never know), Josh sits on his bed and asks him to sit next to him.

“First of all, you need to clean this room. What the hell are you doing up here?” Sam gasps and then giggles. “Don’t tell your mom I cursed.”

“She’s gonna be mad if I don’t go finish my homework.”

“You’re right. And she’s right, she’s always right, don’t forget that.” Sam’s looking at him expectantly, waiting for whatever he needed to talk about. Josh takes a deep breath and Sam knows this is gonna be a long one, Dad talks a lot.

“Sam, I love your mom very much.”

“Duh.”

“Smart ass. Let me finish. I also love you very much, and I’m so lucky to be your dad. Incredibly lucky that she was willing to share you with me.” Sam knows that Josh is not his real dad, but it doesn’t matter to him. “You two are my whole world, you know that?”

Nodding his head, Sam’s hoping he’ll get to the point soon so he doesn’t get in trouble about the homework.

“I wanna ask your mom to marry me. But I wanted to make sure that was okay with you first.” Josh is chewing over his bottom lip nervously while Sam stays quiet.

“Does that mean you’d be my real dad?”

“Oh, buddy I’ll always be your dad. No matter what. But, we could make it more official, if that’s what you and your mom want.” He’s holding back tears that are burning his eyes as his son studies his face.

“Yeah that would be cool. I hope she says yes, you’re kind of a dork.” The tears spill over as Josh laughs loudly, totally and completely in love with the little boy in front of him.

Later that night, long after that pesky homework is completed and dinner has been eaten and dishes cleaned up, after having sent Sam off to bed at least an hour ago, Josh is leaned against the pillows scrolling on his phone. Waiting for you.

The bathroom light goes dark and he looks up to find you leaned against the doorframe of the en suite, draped in a short forest green robe that’s belted around your waist.

“Don’t you look lovely? You know green is my favorite color.”

“No kidding? How fortuitous that I bought a sexy little slip of satin in your favorite color. Who would’ve known?”

Blood is already rushing to his dick, your voice is low and seductive and having the exact effect you’d hoped for. The robe is for show however, and as you walk toward the bed your fingers pull the belt apart, allowing him a glimpse of the bare skin underneath.

“God I love you.”

“Mm, why don’t you show me how much?” As you reach the end of the bed, you let the satin slip over your shoulders and flutter to the ground.

He’d moved quickly to pull you in, limbs and heart tangled with yours, and he showed you how much he loved you, over and over again, leaving you both breathless and sweating, chests heaving as you rested your head against his.

Drawing soft circles over the shape of his muscles, he stopped the motion of your fingers to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips. When you lifted your gaze to his face, he knew anything he had planned wouldn’t compare to this moment

“Flower?” You hum in response, eyes not leaving his as his expression turns serious. “Baby, I want to adopt Sam.”

You push off of him to sit up and see him clearly, whispering, “Really?”

“Yeah. And I think he wants that too. I should’ve talked to you about it first but it sort of just… came up when we were talking earlier. Would you want that?”

You’re nodding your head enthusiastically before realization hits you and your smile slips. “Josh, I don't think you can if we’re not-“

“Married?” You’re nodding your head again, mouth turned down into a full frown. He sits up to lean into you, a hand coming up to wrap around the back of your neck and pull your lips to his and then rests his forehead against yours, as he so often does. “The thing is, more than anything really, I would love it if you’d marry me.”

Pulling away, eyes wide and jaw slack, you stare at him until he speaks again.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

There’s a ring hidden away, but the plan has been abandoned and he has nothing to offer you right now aside from himself.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, absolutely yes.” You’re crawling into his lap, kissing over his face held in your hands and he’s laughing as your kiss lands on his lips.

When you pull away again, love swimming in both of your eyes, he says, "Thank god, Sam said you might say no because I'm a dork. Am I allowed to start grounding him now?

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d-nghy-ck · 4 years

Text

Pearlescent

Pairing: Haechan/Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, romance, established relationship. Inspired by the From Home MV aesthetic.

Warnings: Unprotected sex

Summary: A shoreline sunset spent cozied up against Hyuck dives deep past surface level. His lips profess his heart’s intent; his eyes reflect waves dancing in iridescent glimmers; his love whispered into your skin evokes heated passion.

Header: by Jackie @/ hchan

Word Count: 5k

“Pack your bags for a night away,” Donghyuck mischievously instructs through your phone’s speaker, only to revert to his usual playful, singsong tone. “I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes, baby.” The call ends before his distorted laughter has even finished.

And sure enough, a few minutes of hasty packing and insatiable curiosity later, the horn of Donghyuck’s quaint little 1985 sedan honks from outside your apartment door.

Crisp autumn air awakens your senses better than any cup of coffee, and when you hop into his passenger seat you’re met with the sight of one very pleased Donghyuck. Adventure dances in his eyes as he idly taps his foot on the gas to rev the engine, a lopsided grin playing at his lips.

He leans across the center console to deliver a well-placed good morning peck, and without a moment to waste, he shifts the gear and whisks you away. With the windows rolled down, his hair flutters in the wind as he tells you of your plans for the day.

“I got us a home away for the night, a place far from everyone else. I think you’ll really like it.” His thumb taps on the steering wheel, revealing what you think might be possible nervousness, and he glances between you and the road. “You deserve it.”

The pull of your lips into the shyest of smiles is all the confirmation he needs.

You have no idea where you’re headed, but if there’s anything you’ve learned by dating Donghyuck, it’s that, yes, his plans are usually spontaneous and hectic, but they’re always exciting and worthwhile. Maybe at the beginning of your relationship you would have inquired, but with the way Donghyuck is smirking to himself as he absentmindedly fiddles with the radio knob, you know you can trust his intuition, oddly enough.

Leading you through his daring thrills and unexpected plans makes him feel alive - you can see it in his boyish grin as he wordlessly glances over to you and intertwines your fingers with his as he drives. He chuckles at the innocent, curious look in your eyes and raises his eyebrows, almost taunting you to ask him where you’re headed. When you meet him with the same expression of expectancy and defiance, he can’t hold the silence any longer and a laugh bubbles out of him.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He offers the road a glance before looking back. “I bet you’re dying to know where we’re headed.”

His grin widens, imploring you to break down and beg for him to spare you his thoughts. Instead, your grin mirrors his, and you disarm him in a completely different way.

“I trust you, Hyuck.”

His expression promptly softens and his fingers tighten in your grasp, bashfully looking back to the road, caught off guard by your unhindered sincerity. You always know how to best him in the most precious of ways, and he loves you for it.

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ──

Passing building after building, the space between each structure widens and fills with wilderness revealing serene stretches of land, a relieving contrast from the hustle and bustle left back home. You stop occasionally along the way to observe overlooks of the distant sea or visit coastal villages scattered with weather-torn cottages and quiet shop streets. Belatedly, you realized you’d stopped wondering where he was ultimately taking you, and instead found yourself enjoying every moment he pulled you close to point to buildings in the distance, trotted down hidden pathways to see what lies beyond, or held a streetfood to your lips for you to taste.

At last he steers down a gravel drive that opens to the expanse of the ocean, rolling his car right along the beach to a standstill at the shore. Hyuck cuts the ignition and the rumble is replaced with the calm crash of waves as you take your first steps across the sand. You didn’t expect the coast, especially since this time of the year beckons chilled breezes, occasional gusts of wind carrying the fresh scent of impending storms. The shiver on your skin seeks the comfort of warmth, and lucky for you, Donghyuck radiates within his padded white bomber jacket as he stretches his legs on the sand.

He breathes in deeply and spreads his arms wide, sighing contentedly. Not a single person is on the beach aside from you and yours. It only takes a moment’s pause before you rush to squeeze him as tight as you can, slipping your arms beneath his jacket to pull his waist to you. Though winded by your ambush, his chest rumbles with laughter as you mumble against him your appreciation for bringing you here by surprise.

“I wanted to bring you somewhere where I could take the time to focus on you, and only you.” He kisses your cheeks, savoring them one by one. “Gotta make sure you’re as loved as possible.”

After tossing your shoes by the car, you spend the daylight hours skipping through the sand, exchanging teasing banter, and exploring the area hand-in-hand. It even turns out Hyuck put thought into this; you’re impressed when he pulls out your favorite treats to snack on from the backseat of his car.

The passing of the sun overhead revolves much like the way you revolve around each other with the passing of time. To just stroll along the shore with him is a boundless dream.

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ──

Walking backwards by the tide, he pulls you in front of him, fingers just barely lacing together. Your clasped hands sway with each step, and the cute quirk of his lips and sparkling eyes urge you forward. As the tide crawls in, you hastily warn him that he’s about to step into the water. His eyebrows furrow in disbelief as he halts abruptly, causing you to bump into him. Instead of dodging the water, he fixes his gaze on you, mischief stirring in his mind.

“Alright, come on.” He deadpans, dragging you to the incoming currents by a newfound hold on your wrist. “Let’s see who can outrun the waves.”

Fear of how ice cold the water might be at this time of the year has you digging your toes into the sand in resistance. His eyes challenge you to approach the tide, begging you to play along with him. Unable to resist his antics, you entertain the idea just for another chance to see him lively and laughing.

Following him to the water when the waves retract, you find how the sand beneath your bare feet chills deeper with each step. You prepare to run when the tide surges forward again, but Hyuck guards you with guarded arms. Just as the waves threaten to crash against your skin, he catches you in his embrace and refuses to budge one bit as the cold water rushes over. Both of your squeals fill the air, but between the subsequent laughs and the trickle of the ocean, you can’t find it within yourself to mind. Though the water laps at your feet, he allows you to forget about the cold or how fast the sun passes overhead. And even as the waves retract, he holds you close, and he radiates just the right amount of warmth.

Your view of his handsome features shifts as he turns you around to face the sunset. Pressing behind you, he lightly rubs a hand down your arm and along your waist to hug you securely to him, creating warmth with the friction. Brushing the hair off your neck, he kisses along bare skin, rising goosebumps in his lips’ wake.

“See the sunset, they way it reflects off the water? The serenity and the natural beauty of it all?” He kisses up your neck to the rim of your ear and watches your profile as you exhale from his gentle touches. “It still all pales in comparison to you.”

Shivers run through you from the combination of the drag of his lips on your skin, his whispered intentions at your ear, and his satisfied chuckles that follow. Cold water continues to rush over your skin below against the contrast of the steady warmth of his hold above.

Spinning around in his arms, you catch the flirty glint in his eyes that plays with reflections of glimmering waves and pearlescent skies. Delicately, his fingers leave lingering touches on your skin; at the inside of your wrist, at the curve of your waist, at the nape of your neck he quietly explores. Kisses press into you on spots he knows you love, and he loves more. In return, you kiss him in the way you know he adores, and that’s anywhere and everywhere, so long as it’s your lips on his skin.

It’s when you tremble against him that he pulls away just enough to speak against your lips.

“You must be shivering from the water.” But he knows it’s from his affections, and he knows you love it when he teases you. Unable to deny lest your voice also trembles, you instead fall into his knowing eyes that gradually capture the light of the falling sun.

He urges you out of the water, leading you by clasped hands ashore. Soon he’s laid out a comforter over the sand, a puffy duvet, the kind of makeshift extravagance you envision he proudly stuffed into his trunk earlier this morning. You crawl onto the duvet with him, curling up into his side as the sunset evolves before your eyes.

There’s comfort in the solitude and far cast gazes while thoughts are of someone held near. The warmth from his soft jacket carries the clean scent of linen and hints of a scent so characteristically him - alluring and exhilarating.

You can’t help but steal glances at him watching the view, peeking up from your snuggles on his shoulder to admire his emotive eyes, red-tipped nose, and even his brown hair curling at the collar of his jacket. Your fingers twist into the duvet at how badly you wish to curl your own fingers in his hair, to continue your loving kisses from earlier that he so graciously ended in favor of your comfort.

And with that, your mind is lost to thoughts of him. On the surface level, his flirty confidence can come across so nonchalant, but at his core lives a caring side to him that’s present in the way he empowers you to embrace your inner strengths, the way he encourages you to take care of yourself. He wants you to be happy, and you want nothing but the same for him. It’s so positively nurturing that you couldn’t be more convinced that you’re meant for each other.

Irresistibly, you’re as drawn to him as he is to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen.

As if sensing your thoughts, he catches your pensive gaze, and you find yourself holding your breath, silently begging for his touch, so thoroughly allured by his charm that you’re unable to think. He knows you, and he knows this, so he meets you there halfway.

His fingertips under your chin urge you to him, his thumb softly tracing your bottom lip. The vibrant fire of the sunset burns in his eyes, yet in them swims something deeper as his fingers grip at the nape of your neck and pull you close for a searing kiss.

The glide of his lips persists, slow and connected, as Hyuck melds his lips over yours in a way that bonds you to him. Your fingers find home in his hair, twirling and pulling at the tufts, earning a soft hum from him that’s lost on your lips as he leans into you. His palm moves to the small of your back, drawing you flush against him, falling into the duvet.

The seclusion of being the only two people from horizon to horizon brings reckless abandonment as he confidently presses into you, his hands sliding up your thighs, his wet kisses trailing off your lips and down your neck. Nestling your nose in his hair, you catch the vanilla scent of his shampoo while your hands burry beneath his hoodie, drifting over soft warm skin. Your touch elicits a small giggle from him at the sensitivity before he bussies his mouth on your neck again, heightening your temptation to have him nearer.

The physical attraction that pulls you together holds steadfast, though at the root of it all is a manifestation of the love and trust you hold for each other. He feels so content with you, so free to be authentically, vulnerably himself, that his actions and spoken thoughts release unfiltered.

Hyuck kisses his way up your jaw and hovers right at the corner of your lips to speak with ragged breaths. “You know, I really love you.” He teases and sucks at your bottom lip, pulling gently. “I might want to be with you forever, if that’s alright by you.”

You follow the pull of his teeth and answer with a proper kiss, attempting to convey at least a hint of how much he means to you. He chuckles at how it’s almost as if you didn’t hear him, just eagerly, mindlessly seeking his touch.

A break for air gives you a moment to attempt to encapsulate your fondness for him, but it’s best simply put, for the magnitude of your feelings can’t possibly be conveyed with spoken language. “I love you, too. Just you as you are.” You love him for his care and passion, his playfulness, his spontaneity, and even his flaws. “Just you already - you’re perfect.”

The genuine honesty rises a catch in his breath, the profound nature of your words pulling you both from your carnal desires. Feeling wholly understood and appreciated, you’re overwhelmed by the joy of falling completely in love. In this moment, there’s no worry other than letting each other know how much you adore and appreciate each other. Hyuck leans down for another kiss, and your minds and hearts and touch and lips are full of the other.

The waves flow, reflecting the sun in its descent, and a light breeze sweeps by, encouraging you to sink even further into your embrace. It’s nature’s way of drawing you together.

Noticing how your skin grows cold to the touch with the settling of the sun, he hugs you closely and murmurs a suggestion in your ear. “How about we warm you up?” Gesturing behind your huddled embrace to a hilltop that looks out over the coast, a quaint home is nestled amidst the sparse pines. Before you know it, Hyuck is on his knees, hair catching the wind in a flutter, offering a bashful grin and a hand to bring you along.

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ──

With his heated palm resting against your thigh as he drives, the ride is not nearly long enough for you to catch up with your rapidly beating heart and lingering thoughts of his love and touch. Rolling up in front of a mid-century modern bungalow, Hyuck cuts the engine and grabs your and his bags from the back seat.

Hyuck patiently sways, studying you as you endearingly gape up at the house from the gravel drive. You pull your gaze from the picturesque cottage in disbelief and meet his eyes. “Hyuck, this is beautiful.”

Offering a proud grin, he reaches to clasp your fingers and run his thumb along your skin. You place a lingering, soft kiss to his cheek and he pulls back to soak in the contentedness of your eyes before enthusiastically nodding his head toward the front door. As he leads you up the walk, he pulls a cottage key out of his pocket with a wink, unlocks the door, and urges you in by a supportive hand at the small of your back.

Together you stumble into your comfortable home for the night. Through large windows that reveal the views of the ocean below, sunbeams cast pinkish coral and golden hues along the walls and mid-century modern interior. The little bungalow is cozy and inviting, but as soon as the front door clicks shut and stillness follows, you can barely pay mind to anything aside from the thick tension and desire hanging in the air between the two of you.

You send a tentative glance toward him, the light catching the honey browns of his hair, the sprinkle of moles across his warm skin, the deep brown of his eyes. Hyuck breaks the silence with a low murmur under his breath, how the cottage looks great, but even as he says it, he’s not looking at your home; he’s looking at you, and only you. Adoration melts within his gaze, and it shifts down to your lips as he absent-mindedly attempts to garner another comment, but it’s lost to you as you’re unable to think clearly beyond thoughts of his eyes, his lips, his presence, and how much he means to you.

Dropping your bags, he carefully closes the space, pulling you close to reassuringly cup your cheeks in his soft palms. Anticipation charges the space between you as he brushes his thumbs over your cheekbones, resting his forehead to yours and allowing himself deep breaths to steady the rush rising within him. His palms hold warmth to your skin, and you can still catch a faint hint of the sea breeze beneath his natural musk carried over by the puffs of his breath, laced into his jacket that you grasp to pull him in for a heartfelt kiss.

As if the short time apart was unbearable, he sighs into you, relieved by the release of tasting you again. His arms around you are strong and sure, desperate to love you as thoroughly as he can, in any immediate way possible.

“Let’s take a look at the bedroom,” he breathes, huskily muffled against your lips as you swallow his words. You can barely breathe for the effort of pulling Hyuck close by your arms circling his neck. He pushes you into the bedroom with his hands clutched at your sides, desire clouding his senses as he stumbles to the bed.

You cascade backward together and his lips chase after yours, the slip of his tongue allowing you his pure taste. Rolling over the covers, you’re a bond of tangled legs and low chuckles that swell into hidden moans caught in your throats.

Tugging at your clothes, his hands twist in the fabric and can’t help but grab at the skin of your waist, your legs, any part of you that he desperately needs to love. As he pulls your clothes away, he graces each revealed plane of skin with a drag or suck of his lips. Your shaking hands do away with his layers and satisfyingly run beneath his shirt along his skin. Focused solely on kissing you wherever he can, he eagerly rushes to connect his lips to you as soon as you’ve freed him of fabric.

His lips leave wet licks and sucks along your neck as his hands reverently massage your arms, your sides, and finally your chest. He settles his weight on you, his insistent hardness pressing against your thigh. You run your hands along the soft plushness of his ass and pull him to you, admiring the weight of muscle that lies beneath as you grab onto him and the way his breath hitches in a gasp in response.

With not a single barrier between you but each other’s breath and the unspoken love that it carries, just velvety skin soothingly rubbing against each other, you feel so connected. Holding Hyuck in your arms is a comfort; it’s the nurture of fond kisses and hums.

“I love you.” He presses his lips to you, to imprint his words into your skin. “I just love you, entirely.”

Muffled moans bury into skin alongside bitten whines as the emotional overwhelm overtakes your senses. The steady build of passion arises a wave of mindlessness, wherein you’ve lost all semblance of reality and are entranced by him. Sensitive, you whimper and gasp at every small touch of his fingertips. You weave your hand into his hair while he continues to grind, and a press of your lips to his temple has him coming up to capture your lips again.

He coats himself with you as he slides against your arousal, and the glide blooms a delicate floating thrill, spiking with the rhythmic brushing of the head of his cock against your clit. You wrap your legs around his small waist, digging your fingertips into his shoulders as you ride the feeling. He grunts as he hopelessly moves against you, squeezing his hands over your soft skin. He drags his lips down to mouth at your cleavage, breathing roughly with his eyes on you, heavy with need.

You slide a hand below to stroke him, and he's already so sensitive that he releases pitched whines as he buries his head into your neck. His cock is velvety hot, soft skin covering hard heat. The weight of it in your hand has your heart thumping and a twisting tension growing deep within you.

“Hyuck, please,” your pleads tempt him, “I need you.” At your words, he openly groans and his hips thrust against your hold without aim, urgently supporting himself on his forearms and positioning to take you fully.

As he aligns himself, the focus of his gaze on you ensures you’re safe in his hold. In the stillness, the sound of the waves crashing on the distant shore and the last light rays shining through the window onto his golden skin play with the puffs of your moist, mingling breaths. He gradually presses in, eyebrows furrowed and his gaze intent. When you break the silence with a whimper at the fullness of him, he reactively twists his fingers in the bed sheets, pent up energy spinning. Fully seated, he pulses in you, already so sensitive that just the feeling of you surrounding him has his nerves alight. Every part of you is connected to the other as you hold him, bodies flush against each other.

And then he shifts, just the slightest movement, and both of you are lost in the other. Even with shallow, smooth thrusts, the feeling is so intense that he only pulls back slightly before pushing back into your warmth, eliciting tingles along skin and drawing moans from lips. You’re twisting limbs and skin on skin, and his care has you willingly swept into his current, his tide pulling you under.

The contact and drag of his body flows in waves as he pushes in and out with fluid thrusts. The soft silkiness of his tummy and velvet fuzz of his happy trail compound on the sensations, drawing friction within the fluidity. You can feel every part of him moving against you, every muscle, smooth to the touch but powerful and strong beneath his skin.

His hands clasp with yours, fingers intertwining securely as he pushes them to the covers, mouthing against your skin, “I love you”, endlessly and heartfelt. You melt together, effortless and flowing, whole and light, and so filled with love. All you know is the want to cherish it, to protect his love in your arms.

The last deep red hues of the sunset glow onto his skin and reflect a warm golden brown in his eyes, and as the rays fade, neither of you are bothered to cut on a light. The darkness brings something only sensory deprivation can provide; the loss of sight heightens his thick scent, his heated touch, his strong movements, his heady sound.

Gripping your hand in his hair, you easily guide him in for a kiss. You can see in his eyes how he’s already at the desperate edge of snapping, pliant in your grasp. He attempts to slow down, wishing to savor the feeling of you, his hands gripping at your thighs to keep himself grounded. Eyes tightly shut, he collects his last bit of willpower before it slips away. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmurs with a broken voice, “You’re too good, it’s too good,” his eyes meeting yours to urge you to understand just how gone he is.

Your whines beneath him only heighten his urgency; he’s spurred on by the idea of you loving him, completely out of your mind, body twisting in his grasp. The roll of his hips picks up with each movement, edging on frantic, desperate to please you. He leads with impatient, trembling hands and groans roughly in your ear, his last bit of willpower slipping from his grasp.

His hands leave impressions of his love on your skin, and in return, your comfort enables him to naturally and vulnerably be himself; it’s as if he isn’t him anymore, simply a collection of memories and emotions, yearning for you.

From his body to his heart, you feel every raw part of him, and he feels you, too; the rapid beating of your pulse, the shallow intake of uneven breaths, the shaking of your legs around him, but most of all the way your heart and soul call out for him. Your hair musses against the covers as your head tilts askew, tension wound tight, and he follows you willingly, pressing his lips to yours to breath into you a last “my love” as you crash over with a cry of his name.

Hearing and feeling you come apart around him has his hips stuttering and his voice caught. Flowing in your waves of bliss, you’re faintly aware of his flexed muscles and how his cock pulses and twitches within you. You pull his hair off his forehead and tilt his face toward you to view him as best you can in the shadows of the light cast by the moon, a silver halo forming around him. His eyebrows are furrowed and he pants for breath, softly whining and shaking, one pump away from coming, and unable to reconcile with allowing the bliss to end.

“Baby please, I’m so close.” His voice trembles as he’s about to break, on the edge of a falling, one touch away from crashing.

In the safety of your arms you pull him to you and relish in the twist of his expression as he crashes, riding the rush of pleasure. He dissolves into the wave of his come with lazy, uncoordinated thrusts as he melts into you. Aftershocks course through him as the tide pulls away.

Breaths mix, skin slides, the softest of giggles embellishes the cloudy bliss. Waves crash, crickets sing, and you’re floating.

The lull of sleep covers you gently as you cuddle into his arms, a light sheet draped over you, shrouded by the light of the moon. The last memory you keep is his thumb tracing up and down your arm and your sides, his lips that speak of love kissing your eyelids closed.

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ──

In the stillness of the night, you awaken to him cradling you in his arms amidst the bed sheets. He’s already awake, admiring you with gentle eyes. He peppers the sweetest of kisses slowly, deliberately to your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.

“You’re awake?” His voice is thick and sleep-strewn, his eyes endearingly puffy.

Rolling on top of him with your fingers dancing along his jawline, you hum in a drowsy response against his lips and tuck your head under his chin. Pressing your nose into the safe haven of his warm, smooth neck brings you comfort that just might let you drift off again.

But Hyuck has other ideas. Wiggling you off him and crawling out of the sheets, he soundlessly pads around the bedroom to adorn his clothes, tossing yours on your snuggly form. Mindlessly, you rub your eyes and accidentally put your shirt on inside-out, though it’s when he opens your winter coat and holds it aloft to help you into it that realization hits and you nearly protest with a pout.

Donghyuck’s spontaneity is thrilling at the best of times, but tonight, it is quite literally chilling.

Though you are the only residents as far as the eye can see, you still tiptoe your way outside and quietly traverse the trail down the hill to the shore, afraid to break the stillness of the night. Dawn has yet to break and crickets chirp while nocturnal crabs scuttle in the shadows to the sound of waves crashing heavily with the moon’s pull.

A gust of wind rolls past and Hyuck instinctively pulls you closely to him, protecting you from the cool autumn breeze. As always, welcome warmth emanates from his steady hold.

He pulls away just enough to look down at you. His hair is a complete wreck, and his eyes are sleepy, and he still looks absolutely beautiful despite it all. His warm lips press a lingering kiss to the tip of your nose in an effort to warm it, and he nestles your hands into his own toasty coat pockets.

As nature continues to revolve around you, just like your time together, you watch the reflection of the moon on the water slowly shift as an edge of light grows on the horizon of the shoreline.

Admittedly, it's a bit difficult to think about anything else other than the man in your arms. Turning to nuzzle your nose into his neck and kissing your way up his jaw to his lips, you run a thumb over his cheek and watch as his lips beautifully dawn into a smile.

You just love him, entirely.

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bukojuiice · 3 years

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blue lagoon — gojo satoru

ೃ pairing: gojo satoru x fem! reader

ೃ tags: smut 18+ (the rest of the tags are below the cut!)

ೃ warnings: nsfw

ೃ wc: 2771 words

ೃ Gojo Satoru’s high profile sorcerer life is plagued by malicious and good for nothing rumors that describe and entail him as a pompous casanova. To finally debunk said rumors, he comes to you, his loving girlfriend, for advice on how to publicly announce your relationship with him. all it takes is some loving and some teasing from you to finally gain the courage and come to his senses.

additional tags: teasing, bathroom sex, and overstimulation (enjoy!)

A skirt-chaser, womanizer, and possibly a gallivanter who jumps from woman to woman.

That’s mostly the perception that people have about him.

He was just too good to be true.

They didn’t dare to think that Gojo Satoru would be a perfect man on his own.

There should always be a catch.

Handsome, possibly the strongest sorcerer known to man, charming, tall, and sexy, and not to mention, a bad-ass.

No one could just act that part casually and nonchalantly without hiding some skeletons in the closet, right?

Even his three first-year students, who had some assumptions and have heard some rumors that maybe their beloved teacher was a ladies’ man who could possibly never just have one significant other in his life.

They were wrong. All of them are wrong.

There was you.

The first woman he fell in love with and the woman he would come back home to after a tiring day.

He met you when you were casually roaming about the blinding lights district that was Shinjuku, catching the next train ride home.

Just a small-town girl… living in a lonely world... she took the midnight train going anywhere…

The moment he saw you, he was entranced.

He stopped in his tracks, taking in your beauty as you continuously walk farther and farther away from him.

Gojo knew he had to find you again.

And as fate would have it, the two of you end up catching the same train, a week later. Engaged in small talk, some laughs and giggles, and you were automatically charmed by his personality and looks. The two of you then went on some casual dates before taking a few steps further, and now, here you are. It’s been a year and a half since you two started dating.

The white-haired man needed to shut down these rumors, once and for all.

He wants to proudly tell everybody that there was only one woman in his life and this woman is one worth spending the rest of his life with.

So, as he meets with you tonight in your apartment like he always does, he wants to ask you for advice on how to do so.

Only problem is, how can he be honest with you like this?

What if you react differently and be taken aback over the fact that the two of you aren’t necessarily considered as official yet on his side of things?

You bob your head up at the sound of your apartment door unlocking. Your captivating boyfriend enters inside, a soft and loving smile appearing on his face as soon as he sees you.

“Sorry if I’m a bit late today.” He pardons himself but you shake your head as you stood up from your seat to run towards him, enveloping him in an amorous hug. “It’s alright babe. Have you had dinner already?” You ask innocently, tiptoeing just a little bit to give him a greeting peck on the lips.

“Yup.” He says popping the p, trying his best to emanate his usual playful and energetic aura, As the two of you break free from the hug. He begins to stretch his arms and shoulders, groaning in the process. “I’m a bit soar though. Is it alright if I take a bath?”

“Of course, love! The water’s ready actually. I just poured in some hot water in the bath for my nightly wash, thinking you won’t arrive tonight.”

“A-aaaah! I’m sorry for making you wait!” He pulls you in for another hug, peppering kisses on your cheek, giggling as he does so. “What can I possibly do to cheer you up my mistress!?”

“Pfft. Like I said, It’s alright, my love. Just get in the tub, ‘Toru.” You laugh, pushing him away playfully as he heads for your bathroom. But before he completely enters, he steps back a little, turning to you dramatically.

“Oh, my woman, why must you wound me?”

You laugh once again at his little dramatic quip as you shoo him away.

Whilst waiting for Satoru to finish by waiting for him at the door, you feel as if there’s a strange air between the two of you. Like he was hiding something. You had to get him to talk and bare his heart to you and as your mind begins to think up ideas faster speed of light, you feel a lightbulb light up in your head.

What if you went inside the bathroom and surprise him? After all, despite his very tall yet alluring height, the two of you would fit perfectly in the Japanese tub you recently just bought with him in during your monthly IKEA.

It was perfect.

You quickly make loose of your clothes, dashing into the bathroom and make a beeline towards Gojo who was chilling in the tub, head most probably in the clouds, aimlessly playing with the bubbles in the tub.

Just from looking at him like this, you know something was up.

After you wet yourself down, you hop into the tub with Gojo. As soon as he sees you dip in, he snaps back into reality, slightly bewildered and mouth agape at the sight of your beauty as you sit comfortably in front of him.

“(Y/N)!” He slightly jerks up from his position, but quickly recovers by pulling a playful pout. “I didn’t expect you to just barge in on me like this…” His fingers trace circles around your shoulder and then around the base of your neck, earning whimpers from you.

You lean back against him, and you feel him tense up even more at the touch of your bodies. “Toru… is there something up? Something you’re not telling me? You’ve been down in the dumps today…” You continue to lounge in the water, letting out a content yet exasperated sigh. Behind you, Gojo smiles half-heartedly.

If only he could tell you these conflicted emotions he’s been feeling recently.

“Everything’s fine love. Don’t worry.” He says in his usual cheeky and smug tone. He licks his lips seductively; lust fills his ethereal azure eyes as you feel Satoru’s hard cock against your ass. You perk up and push back against it slightly to get a better feel.

Gojo doesn’t react, but you hear him gulp down a lump on his throat, so you quietly reach your hand until-

“Not in the bathtub missy.” He teases you playfully, combing his hand through your mildly wet hair. “Wait just a l-little bit moree.”

Why does this man have to play with you like this?

You turn to him, the water rippling with you, shooting him an indignant stare as you lift your hands out of the water to show him you’ll behave. He sighs skittishly at the disappointed look you just gave him right now, getting goosebumps as you feel his breath against the back of your neck.

Gojo’s natural scent mixes with the bath’s hot steam. Somehow, it calms you down and gets you excited at the same time. He notices you shiver a bit as the cold breeze of wind passes by the two of you. This gives him another chance to tease you again.

“Keep your shoulders under the water so that you stay warm. It’ll help soothe away your fatigue. You had a long day today, after all~”

You roll your eyes, turning to him once more, cupping his cheek. “Pleaseeeee. You’ve had an even more draining day than I did as always.”

Gojo scoops up some bathwater, and began pouring it over your shoulders. Resulting in you relaxing even further in his arms.

Here you were right in front of him.

Completely bare and naked. Waiting for him to ravage you.

He just couldn’t help it. The teasing didn’t satisfy him enough, and now that the two of you are lying comfortably in this huge-ass bathtub, might as well use it all to your advantage, right?

Satoru’s carnal instincts kick in and all of a sudden, before you could even react probably, he grabs your boobs. Gently squeezing them and flicking your now perked up nipples. You mewl at his every touch, his touch feeling a bit more intense when it’s wet.

He pauses for a moment… and then,

“Shall we continue?”

“T-toru please… yes.” You say in between moans as he squeezes your breasts a little tighter, digging his fingers in.

“A-ah… that feels so good.”

Your white-haired lover smirks, pinching your nipples once more, steamy warmth radiating from his hands.

“They’re extra smooth and squishy today.” He teases once again, giving them an extra squeeze, earning giggles from you as his hands wander south. You practically twitch as a result of the combined stimulations that Satoru was giving you, as water flows out of the tub.

Meanwhile, you can feel that Gojo’s cock is at full mast now.

You scoot backwards a bit, spreading your legs wide so that you can get a good look at it.

Just then, Gojo’s hand comes into view as he reaches down to play with your clit. You continue to lull your head back, your bodies pressing even more than before as you feel a different sort of wetness between your legs, so you keep letting him do his thing.

“’Toru… put it in me.” You whisper in between your moans once more, the rush of sudden arousal and excitement coursing through your veins.

“Sure, I could do that, but… is it safe to have sex underwater?” He chuckles to his own joke, slightly ruining the momentum. You were about to react and shoot him a glare again but you knew that this was your time to get back at him.

You reach down and stroke the underside of his huge cock. Gojo moans softly at your sudden gesture, and he immediately bites down on your earlobe, almost reflexively.

“(Y/N)… who gave you the right to be this damn beautiful?” He licks and nibbles your neck carefully, making sure not to leave any obvious marks, making you shiver with anticipation and desire.

Your loud and his soft moans mix together like a harmonious tune, Satoru knew that he had to take this a step further now, holding you by the waist, and tracing circles on your stomach to try and ease you before hie makes his big move.

“I’m going to put it in now, okay? So, take a deep breath and just relax… stay right there and I’ll do the rest~” He whispers to your ear softly as you assume the position and Gojo slides his cock inside of you.

You mewl and cover your mouth as soon you feel his huge throbbing cock penetrate your insides. Your mind goes hazy for a moment as you feel all the ecstasy and excitement circulate around your body all at the same time, as you continue to stay in position for him to continue his full entrance.

“A-ah.. I f-feel it!” You murmur, your hand still covering your mouth.

“(Y/N)! You’re so tight!” Maybe it’s just the water, but Gojo’s cock feel way warmer than usual. Was it the stimulation or the fact that this was your first time doing it in the tub of all places?

The two of you pause for a moment to let your bodies adjust… then Gojo bounces you on his cock like you were a ragdoll.

“(Y/N)… if this hurts, please tell me alright? I’ll stop if you say so.” He says in between hitched breaths as he continues to bounce you up and down, each movement eliciting a loud and hot moan from you, you shake your head from side to side to let him know that it’s alright and he can keep going.

Over and over, he slams into your deepest parts, and before long you can’t feel your legs anymore from all this excitement and energy you were releasing.

“T-toru! Fuck me harder!” You finally scream out on the top of your lungs, and you notice Gojo slow his movements for just a second to process what you had just said as he continues.

With each motion, the bathwater ripples and rocks, loudly splashing over the edge and onto the floor. As Satoru continues to thrust, he wraps his arms around you from behind, holding you tight.

“(Y/N)!”

Gojo presses his face against your shoulder, kissing and nibbling every soft spot he could find. Your mind becomes blank again and you couldn’t do anything but continue bucking your hips to the rhythm, riding out the ecstasy.

Your pussy has become a revolving door of cock-water-cock-water. The heat making your brain all fuzzy.

“(Y/N)! I love you! This feels incredible… I’m a-about to!”

“I-I love you too…” You breathe heavily, your thighs slap together with increasing frequency, climax right around the corner.

“(Y/N)! I’m cumming!”

“A-ah! M-me too!”

His cock swells up inside of you, filling you with liquid even hotter than the bathwater. Your mind melts to mush as you achieve an absolutely transcendent orgasm.

Gojo continues to hold you in place as he empties all his load inside of you. You rest your weight against him as you come down from the climax, his cum trickling out of you and mixing with the bathwater.

“T-that was amazing…” You giggle, still trying to catch your breath as your boyfriend laughs along with you.

“I feel like I kinda lost control there.” says Gojo, who was trying to catch his breath just as much as you were.

“N-no… it’s alright.” You turn your head to him once again, cupping his cheek. Even after the orgasm, his cock is still hard enough to stay inside you.

“I think we spent too much time here.” Gojo whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. “The water’s getting cold and we can’t just sit here foreverrrr.” He pouts and you pat his head. You honestly bet he still enjoys the way your bodies are still perfectly connected, but alas, it was time to clean up.

“Alright. Alright. Let’s get out of here.”

Desperately suppressing the urge to keep fooling around, you get out of the tub. Gojo follows you out and the two of you have a quick shower. The two of you walk back to your room, hand in hand, with nothing but a towel before retreating to your room.

This is where he finally pops the question.

Waiting for you to finish drying your hair up, Gojo is laying down on your bed with newly laundered clothes he leaves at your apartment for whenever he sleeps over. He stares up at the ceiling, waiting for you to spark up a conversation. He takes a deep breath and sits up from the bed, watching you lovingly as you blow dry your hair.

“I need to tell you something…” He finally speaks up, fiddling with his hands as he says so. “The people in Jujutsu High don’t know we’re an item? Like- They have no idea that I have an absolutely amazing girlfriend and they think that I’m this shitty womanizer who only puts up a front-“

“Woah… calm down love.” You approach him, sitting beside him on the bed, a bit sad that your boyfriend fumbling with his words which was very unlikely and out of character for him. “Look, if you think it’s the right and appropriate time to tell them, then tell them. I’ll always be here to support you through every step of the way. I know it’s tough and I know they’ll relentlessly continue their shitty assumptions about you, but, I’m here now okay? I’ll be here for you.” You stand up from the bed, planting a kiss on his forehead. “I love you. You’re the best sorcerer out there and the most confident and loving man I know- let the haters hate.”

He looks up at you, his cerulean eyes sparkling in the dim bedroom light.

“I love you too.” He replies, finally, a soft and genuine smile appears on his face for the very first time tonight. “I guess I gotta get new haters since the old ones are starting to like me huh?”

“Now, let’s get to bed.”

“Awee. Shall we go for another round?”

“Toru… no.”

“Phah! Says the girl who literally went inside the tub with me like it was nothing!”

“My legs feel like jelly already… no.”

attempted to write this faster than the speed of light as soon as i finished watching jjk!!

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut

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achillieus · 4 years

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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

quick note: i wrote this back in 2018 after meeting sebastian in greece but i redited it now, so if you see any mistakes or typos please tell me :)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

part: 2/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

It’s Monday when they come back from their small trip to the south. You’re watering the jasmine in your balcony when you hear the engine of Argyris’ car slowly shut down and see two figures getting out of the back seats.

It’s him and a blonde woman. You remember meeting her that night in the terrace. You’ve learnt that she’s a great actress and will play the other main character in the film.

When she notices you looking at them, she waves.

“Hey, Sebastian it’s your friend there.” She gives his shoulder a soft nudge.

We’re not friends. That’s what you almost yell back at her.

His head shots up, smiling.

He’s always smiling. It’s getting annoying.

You can see him going through his bag as he calls your name.

“Look, I brought you some traditional sweets.” He’s holding a small wrapped up package. He starts wiggling it in the air.

He looks so jolly and proud of himself. It makes your throat dry.

And before you can control it, you laugh. You can’t see it from where you’re standing but he bites his bottom lip at the sound.

Two hours later he’s sitting in your kitchen devouring half of the pastries he got you.

“These are actually so good, how can you not like them?” He says and it comes out all garbled. His mouth is full of sugary dough.

You do like them. But he does too. And you can find them anytime you want here. You doubt it’s the same in New York.

“They’re just not my favorite,” he nods “but thank you anyway.”

“Well let’s say you owe me,” you furrow your brows in confusion “and will repay me by sending me some of those once I’m gone.”

He laughs before taking another bite.

And as you stare at him, you notice that he’s different. His gaze is tranquil, his voice is soft and he has some cream at the corner of his lips.

Like that, he looks more like a guy you met at college than a well known actor.

Like that, we could be friends, you think.

You talk a lot. He tells you about his time in Romania and his first audition. It makes you realize you are far more interested in acting than what you thought. You tell him how you think team Iron Man is the superior team. He gasps, as if he is hurt.

He doesn’t mention his girlfriend. You don’t ask about her. It’s easier for both of you this way.

A stifling heat rises to your body as you walk under the burning sun. You don’t realize how Argyris gets you to give Sebastian a tour around the city, but you can remember a pair of light eyes pleading you.

You can easily hear him humming to himself. You turn to look at him. He’s wearing a hat and his forehead is sweating. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re in a very good mood today.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well I’m stuck with you for the day so what choice do I have?” You shrug.

He makes a face at you. You crack and a huge smile forms in your face.

He leans closer, mouth to ear and then he speaks.

“You know, I can’t tell if you hate me or just like me too much.”

His breath hits your cheek.

You try not to blink at the sudden foreign touch.

His words find your skin and they’re so clear and powerful. Suddenly you’re an open page to him.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits for an answer, a nod, a glance.

You are still standing close, the city sounds doing nothing to ease the heated silence between you two.

He realizes you’re not going to give him any response so he lowers his eyes.

And then, when he looks up again, it almost feels like he gives you mercy and agrees to let you get away with it this time.

He smiles.

“So where is Acropolis?”

When he’s lying on your couch after six hours of being a tourist and under the summer sun he looks exhausted. Still he’s his typical talkative self.

“You are always so pumped.”

“And you rarely are.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring?” you ask each other at the same time. It seems like you are two different sides of the exact same coin. One body. One heart.

“Today was nice.” He stretches his arms. “Thank you.”

You open the window. There is barely any wind out there. The air smells of hot cement and flowers.

The man on your couch has closed his eyes, breathing softly.

You try to ignore him over and over for the last days. Until you cannot ignore him anymore; your world has come to an end.

So many people know who Sebastian Stan is.

Only few will ever know him like this; falling asleep on a cheap brown couch with his hair messy, his chest rising and falling and his mind empty of thoughts.

These are photographs of your memories now.

An involuntary smile spreads across your face at the thought.

You see him swift and his hand clenches tightly around a throw pillow.

“Stop looking at me like that you creep,” he says.

“Come closer,” he means.

The sun is long gone and he’s still asleep when there’s a knock on your door. It’s Argyris.

“Please tell me he’s here.”

You nod and motion towards Sebastian’s drifted away body.

“When I left you this morning, I didn’t actually think you’d last this long together.” He tells you the moment he sees him.

The words fall out of his mouth too easily for your liking. “But I should have known better.”

You don’t understand much. You take a step out of your door. You don’t want to wake him up.

“Do you know how many times he mentioned you while we were away?’

Everything stops and falls quiet in the hall.

The words choke you. You shake your head.

“I need you to be smarter than him.” He says and touches your shoulder. “His world moves too fast for people like us.”

It’s effortless not to look at the man in front of you. It’s hard not to shallow his saying.

He wakes up an hour later. He looks at you and it feels sacred. His eyes are still red and the pillow has left a mark on his left cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep here.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it was rude, you should have yelled at me to wake up or something.”

“But you looked tired.”

You carry on with doing the dishes and you hear the couch squeak as he stands up and steps towards you.

The water is refreshingly cold on your skin and the soap smells like lemon.

His hands find your waist and his touch is burning. You wish he disappears. You wish he stays for the night. You don’t even know what you’re wishing for anymore. He comes closer and rests his head on top of yours.

And then he wraps his arms around you and you get flashes of days and nights where there was not enough air for you to breath and your ribs ached.

His action is not so noble. It feels like his body steals all the rationality you have. But it gives you this feeling that there will be no more starless skies at night. And that’s enough for now, so you don’t complain.

His skin feels soft and he smells of sweat and vanilla. Somehow you find that alluring.

He looks at you for a second, like he’s trying to memorize your face. And then he pulls away completely silent.

You try to understand what he’s thinking but he gives nothing away. You were never good at reading people.

You blink and he’s almost out of your apartment.

“Goodnight” he shouts.

“Goodnight” you whisper.

You close the window. You wonder how he will spend the night. He probably won’t sleep soon. He just woke up.

But you can’t sleep either. You just move around in your bed. You sink into the sheets and try to close your eyes.

Your phone buzzes.

He follows you on Instagram.

I need you to be smarter than him.

You go through his profile. You want to think he’s doing the same. You want him to do the same.

His world moves too fast for people like us.

You sigh. Perhaps there could have been a time when you would have stayed away from him, but you can’t pretend to ignore it for much longer. And you’re scared of it. And you’re scared of him.

But you’re more scared of how hard it’s for loneliness to fade. And you wish this doesn’t end like a greek tragedy.

One day of the following week you go out for coffee. The curly haired woman comes with you. You don’t understand why. And while you’re adding more sugar to your espresso, she tells him she loves his acting. She uses all kinds of adjectives to describe it; hopeful and poignant, celestial.

You like the way she talks. She sounds beautiful. You almost envy her abundance of words.

But Sebastian stops listening.

He watches the way your fingers wrap around the sugar box. He can see your nerves and your synapses move underneath your skin and he thinks he’s watching a dance show.

He will never tell you, but it’s then; under the morning sun and with sugar in your hands, that he feels his heart beat with the power of cymbals for the first time.

He thinks you don’t have to know.

He’s wrong.

You learn the girl is an actress herself. They’ll be in the movie together. They look stellar together.

Looking at them, gives you a violent feeling that wrenches your stomach around.

You can’t hate her for that. You feel like it’s more your fault than hers. That feeling however, grabs you by the shoulders and doesn’t let go. You try not to let it show.

But for some reason when Sebastian almost touches your palm, you look at her and you’re certain this is entirely mutual.

You make a silent agreement to not include him in any of this.

“You were extremely quiet earlier.” He says as you reach the building you call home.

He wants to spend time together until his scheduled shooting. You don’t complain.

“You always say that.” You try to joke. He looks right at you.

And then you notice that his eyes aren’t the color of the sea. They’re more grayish blue. They’re like a frozen lake in December.

“I know,” he starts messing with his hair “But you can’t deny you barely talked back there.”

When you enter your apartment, he immediately throws himself on your couch. These last few days it feels like he owns that right spot there in front of your big window.

“I’ve told you, I talk when I have something to say.”

He smiles at your words.

“Then I must be lucky you talk to me.” He whispers softly.

You sit next to him. If you move a little closer you could touch him, feel his warmth. You don’t.

You never thought of how easy it has become to talk to him. You don’t keep your thoughts locked and your teeth clenched around him. And that’s a novice feeling for you.

You let your eyelids fall close and lay back.

There’s a language between you two. It starts with secret glances and whispers and now it contains words that build and ruin bodies and souls.

Sometimes you want to say them all together. Sometimes you just want to open your mouth and let everything flow out but then you’re scared you’ll make him mad. Or you’ll make him love you.

You can’t decide which is worse and that’s enough to stop you.

“What is this thing between us?” He sounds all tender-like, but his blood feels heavy at the moment. He’s not sure if he can keep breathing. He regrets the words that leave his lips, when it’s already too late.

You have the answer figured out long time before he asks. But you’re not ready to give it to him.

“I don’t know” you open your eyes “I don’t know.” You repeat.

He doesn’t tell anyone but sometimes he feels nauseous before a shooting. You can clearly see that now. His pacing up and down the room and his roaming eyes give him away.

You are surprised. You never thought he could be nervous. He looks so confident and radiant all the time; you sometimes forget he is still a regular human being.

“You have no reason to worry.” His lips twitch.

“I know.”

“But you still worry.” You grin and catch his arm to stop him from moving.

The look he gives you is acute.

“You have no reason to be sad,” he starts, without breaking eye contact “but you still are.”

You feel naked and hug yourself close.

It’s very strange to have someone scratch everything from you and see your raw truth. You’re not certain it’s something you enjoy. You wish it didn’t make you quiver.

Sebastian wishes he could scratch deeper under your dermis and your fingernails and slither there between your muscles and your heart where blood runs thick and melancholy hasn’t conquered yet.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head.

“You didn’t say anything hurtful.”

You worry your words may come out bitter. You don’t want that.

“It won’t last forever.” he says and then your name appears in his tongue. You like the way he says it. It almost sounds like poetry. “You won’t be sad forever.”

You smile and, in that moment, you aren’t a worldwide known celebrity and a girl in her early twenties. You are just two people seeking comfort.

The same night there’s a party for the first day of shooting. You don’t feel like going, but he doesn’t let you stay home.

What did you do last night?

Went to a party with Sebastian Stan, typical Thursday night.

You can picture the look on everyone’s face. It makes your lips turn upward just a little.

“I told you to be careful.” The voice sounds almost far away but your neighbor is standing right next to you as he mutters.

“I am.” You say with a laugh. He crosses his arms.

“No, you are here, watching him starry-eyed.”

Your fingers start playing with the rough fabric of your dress.

“I don’t know how to stop it.” You whisper.

He tells you to not entail yourself in something you don’t know the way out of. But what does he know about solitude and rushed breaths?

What does he know about a pair of eyes that look like a frozen lake?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

He’s watching you from afar while you talk with Argyris. He notices how your chest moves along with your breathing in a way it looks like it’s made of pure glass.

For a while he thinks of staying there and keep observing you but then Argyris leaves and you’re all alone. And he starts walking closer to you.

All eyes are on him as he goes through the main dance floor. The curly haired actress stops moving to the beat and follows him with her gaze.

They both reach you.

And you know he’s moving towards you before you can see him. It’s like your body is aware of his presence madly fast.

His eyes seem darker under the hazy light.

He grabs your hand.

You almost heave.

“Let’s get out of here.” He breaths.

You walk for some time. It’s late and Athens is quiet around that time. There is only a soft broken sound of cars and you think about that time you saw a car crash happen in front of your eyes.

You sit close in an old dirty staircase in a forgotten back alley. The city has a lot of those, but people don’t notice. They just walk past them, always in a hurry.

Sebastian sighs heavily. He looks at you in a way it makes you think he’s trying to memorize everything. The way midnight air caresses your body, the way red lighting falls in your hair from that street lamp. He looks at you for an indefinite and long period of time and it feels exquisite.

You place your fingers on his palm and the world flickers. He’s still wearing the rings they gave him for the movie and they feel cold against your skin.

“Do you ever miss Romania?”

The question startles him.

“Every day.”

You nod. Maybe he knows more about sorrow than you give him credit for.

“I remember the dog fence and our neighbors’ daughter and the orange sky through my window, minutes before sun set.”

Your hand locks around his and you stay silent for a while.

“This is the Lyra constellation.” His eyes light up as he looks up.

You remember reading about how much he’s into space. It’s intriguing.

“Where?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead he picks it up and guides it with his own. His body moves closer. There’s no cold in the air.

As your eyes search for the stars that your hands point at, he watches you and he’s certain that one day he’d love to lay on his back, with you on his side and show you all the little dead planets in the sky. Show you the secrets of the universe.

And he feels like this is the type of beauty that musicians try to write songs about.

“Ah!” Your grip becomes tighter and you smile. “I can see it!”

He laughs at your childish enthusiasm.

You laugh too.

And then you let your head fall on his shoulder, your hair touching his bare skin. You don’t blame them for making him wear sleeveless shirts for the film.

You can him feel shudder at your sudden motion, but then he exhales and his muscles relax.

He observes the features of your face from this angle. He almost traces them with his fingers.

“They’re probably going to kill me for stealing you away from the party.” You whisper.

“I think I was the one who grabbed your hand and left.” He laughs again and you can feel his chest pounding.

His phone buzzes. He doesn’t look at it. He closes his eyes.

“Δείξε μου όλα τα αστέρια. ”

He doesn’t understand a word but your voice sounds too close. You feel too close. And that’s almost tearing him apart.

“What does that mean?”

You turn to look at him. The neon sign on the old building behind him keeps trembling.

“It means, show me the stars.”

And he does. And he feels like he could burn alive.

And you will never tell him; but you still think of him when you catch a glimpse of burning stars.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :)

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #letyoudown

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damiano-mylove · 3 years

Text

Come Home With Me

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x GN!reader

Wc: 1.6k

Cw(s): Lil bit of swearing, friends being dicks, drinking, smoking, nothing bad really (tell me if it sucks)

Summary: Thomas spots you at the bar one night, and its as if the two of you are soulmates *not a soulmate AU, just really fluffy*

Masterlist

"Come home with me."

What the fuck was wrong with this boy? This drunken stranger at the bar? He was beautiful, he was a grace to look at. But he was still young; young enough to not quite be able to hold his liquor well.

You smiled to him and leaned against the brick wall behind you, taking a deep drag from the fag between your fingers. "And who might you be?"

"The man who's gonna marry you!" He announced as he leaned beside you, against the wall. His eyes closed heavily but his smile had never weakened. Innocence came off of him in waves, with just a hint of allure. It was a strange mixture, but not unheard of. Just as the stranger relaxed, his friend came over; seemingly, he had been looking for your handsome stranger.

"Thomas! Jesus, Man, we've turned the joint upside down for you," he laughed, putting his hand on your stranger's shoulder. Thomas' friend smiled you, as he pushed his dark hair over his shoulder. "He saw you in the bar and had been wanting to talk to you for hours. I'm really sorry about his state."

Once again, your small chuckle filled the air along with your smoke. "He's quite sweet." Your eyes drifted from Thomas' friend to Thomas, himself. He was looking at you with a face red from bashfulness along with a boozy glow. You looked back to the friend. "Is he always like this? Even sober?"

"Not quite," Thomas' friend chuckled, looking at Thomas and shaking his head. He looked back to you as you threw the butt of your fag into a tray. "What're you doing out here? You can smoke in there."

"My group ditched me. I was waiting out here to see if anyone would come back for me, but alas I am on my own," you explained with a numbed smile.

Perhaps it was an overshare, but you couldn't control your words. Not entirely. It was your friends' faults for feeding you drinks, then abandoning you like a kid at Sunday school. Honestly, it was sort of rude, and now you had to walk about half an hour back to your flat in heels. You were allowed to be at least a little bitter.

Both boys frowned as you tucked your hands in your pockets. "I've got a hike ahead of me. Adieu, Lads."

Just as you began to step away, you were stopped by Thomas, "Woah, wait, you can't walk alone!" His peace had been broken by your statement. You turned your head as he came up beside you, being a bit taller than you. "Streets are dangerous at night, especially for such a vision as you." Thomas smiled at you, his eyes twinkling in the street light. "Let me walk you to the top of your street. I don't even need to know your address, I just need to know you're safe."

How could you refuse?

"You're a peach," you sighed contently. Thomas beamed at you and back to Ethan. He seemed a little surprised in Thomas' chivalry, but he smiled to both of you and waved as you both began to walk off into the distance.

"Did your friends really leave you?"

"One fuck of a topic to jump into, right off the bat."

Thomas seemed embarrassed. "I didn't-I didn't mean to-"

"I'm just being an asshole, Man," you laughed, walking into him and shoving him lightly. Thomas' worry faded into a very natural smile. As if he didn't know he was smiling, yet it seemed to occupy his features so kindly. You had to tear your eyes from his intoxicating smile, to focus on the road ahead. "Yeah, they really left me. Stranded me at a bar on a Saturday night, to be walked home by a total stranger."

"That's shitty."

"Fucking right." A chuckle was shared just before you dug your cigarettes out of your pocket. A tin of hand rolled cigarettes. You extended the tin to Thomas, "Care for a blem?"

God, that smile was sure to be the death of you, especially tonight. He scooped one out lazily, but with the most relaxed movement, as if he was meant to be doing exactly that, in that exact moment. "You're a peach."

Another laugh. You stopped to light your cigarette, as well as Thomas'. He leaned in so close that you could feel the heat come off of him, and you also picked up on his smell. Thomas was potentially the best smelling human you'd ever met. He smelt as if a pine forest went up in flames, a couple months ago, while the wood was perfectly dried out.

Your feet knew their way home better than you did, so you both followed them as you both partook in mindless conversation and countless fags. Footsteps matched footsteps, minds matched minds, laughter bounced off laughter.

That is, until you found yourself in front of your flat complex, but walking right by it as if it didn't exist at all. You were on a mission now. To take Thomas to your favourite hill, that overlooked a bit of Rome and a lot of trees. It was where you usually went to collect your thoughts, and it hadn't even occurred to you that Thomas would be the first person you'd ever taken there. The man who was apparently going to marry you - no better person, in your mind.

"You're homeless?" Thomas asked as you plopped down in your grassy spot. You laughed and pulled him to sit beside you, which he did without much effort.

"No, we passed my flat."

His beautiful eyebrows drew together under that immaculate hair of his, as confusion layered Thomas' face. "Why didn't we stop?"

"I didn't want the conversation to stop, and this is my favourite spot in the city," you said, looking from Thomas to the view ahead of you. Thomas looked as well, seemingly softening to your favourite spot. You admired his side profile for a second before adding, "But, if you'd like to go back to your place, I'm more than okay with that."

"Who said I wanted the conversation to stop?" As he spoke those words, Thomas turned his head back to you. His eyes held the light of the sun, and the kindness of some manner of deity. You found yourself smiling in the exact same way Thomas was smiling.

For a little while, you sat in silence, looking over your view, stealing glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. It was broken only for a second, to share the final cigarette in your tin. Even without words to fill the air, the air felt full. It was like a full pool of still water that you had no problem disturbing, but why ruin it? You'd never felt so comfortable, and you never wanted the moment to end.

All good things must come to an end, you knew this. And this good thing came to an end at the butt of your cigarette.

"C'mon, Man," you smiled, disturbing the water. You stood up, then looked down at Thomas. His eyes were heavy, but content. You offered him your hand to help him stand, which he took gratefully.

"Where are we going?"

"You're coming home with me." Thomas seemed a bit wary. You sighed as you began marching back in the direction you came. "I'm supposed to let you, still half in the bag, stumble home to God knows where, all alone?"

A deep chuckle came from Thomas as he rubbed the back of his neck. His strides were in perfect sync with yours, despite him having longer legs. "I suppose you're right."

"Thank you for your approval," you laughed as you looked to the horizon that you two had had your backs turned to all this time. The sun was beginning to break the clouds. "We've been out all night."

"We left the bar at 3."

You looked to Thomas as the walk switched from grass to pavement. "A 30 minute walk was turned into a 2 hour trek." Thomas' face heated up a tad as he looked to the ground beneath his feet. You looked forward. "No way I'd rather spend my morning."

The same comfortable silence filled the air while you approached your complex. You both walked in very casually, as if Thomas was an old friend who visited very often. But the second you both crossed the threshold, you began throwing your shoes and jackets off. Tiredness had finally settled in.

"Okay, my bedroom is yours, goodnight." You rubbed your eyes, starting to make your way to the couch. Thomas caught your forearm, making you look at him.

"I should be the one on the couch."

Your lips fell in a straight line and your brow dropped. "You're the guest, Man. You get the bed."

"Y/n, I have no problem with the couch," Thomas insisted. You sighed and turned you both around to the bedroom. Thomas' hand was still around your forearm, until you arrived at the bedroom door. "Goodnight."

"Oi, Asshole, come back here," you said just as Thomas began going to the couch. Now you grabbed his forearm. "The couch is shitty, and you don't deserve that, but you're relentless. We're both adults, we can share a bed."

Thomas smiled sleepily. "Okay."

His voice was almost giddy as you both flopped onto the bed. Thomas whispered a soft goodnight to you, but you were already in a land beyond this one. With a smile, Thomas laid on his back. Your room smelt just like you, and Thomas loved being surrounded by it. It was a strange feeling, but one he never wanted to lose. Soon enough, he followed suite and drifted off right beside you.

It was the best sleep either of you had had in months.

Part 2

#måneskin #maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi fanfiction #thomas maneskin #ethan torchio #x reader #one shot #oneshot #fluff

137 notes · View notes

doctorthreephds · 4 years

Text

Synapses: Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 3.3k

TW: Again, nothing, except excess amounts of knowledge about forensics. Also the books suggested are great reads.

Summary: Your not-so-date date with Spencer arrives and you prepare for the worst to find out that the two of you have more in common than you realize. It is then when you begin to find feelings for the resident genius.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention

The next couple of days are a blur, with the signing of paperwork at the Bureau and enjoying your time off before you’re officially hired. Your lack of excitement was confusing. Usually most are nervous or excited to start a new job. But, for you, seeing Spencer was the most nerve-wracking thing you had experienced in a while.

That Saturday, you wake before your alarm. Even though the night before you had a hard time getting to bed, you wake once the light shines in through your window. It streams in and baths you in a golden glow. You had told Spencer to meet you at the bookstore around nine in hopes of checking out some books and then grabbing a bite to eat together, but you knew little to nothing about how flighty he would be. Would he take the books and leave? Or would he want to stay and chat? Perhaps you were overthinking a little bit.

A startling ring comes from your phone, forcing you to sit up and grab at it to silence the loud alarm. You groan as you throw your legs over the side of the bed, walking over to the closet to look through the hangers of sweaters and blazers amassed from years in academia. You think back to that night, what Spencer was wearing. His usual get-up was a blazer over a sweater vest and a button-up, at least it was for that night. It was cold then too. A beige sweater over a white button-up and a thick wool coat would do for today, it was rather chilly in D.C with the recent snowfall.

Your stomach bubbles with butterflies as you walk into your bathroom. After splashing some cold water on your face, you brush your teeth and try to calm your shaky hands. The blood rushing through your ears is like an anthem playing to your every movement. Was your heart pounding that loudly? You pause and take a deep breath before walking out of your room and into the kitchen. Opting for decaf so that your hands don’t shake as violently, a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar drop into the blue cup before you sip on the warm drink and stare out at the cityscape through your window like the calm before the storm. It was peaceful to see the bright white snow stand out against the brick and concrete as people pass by and get on with their Saturday morning. The steam from the drink tickles your nose as you take small sips, trying to pass time in an effort to not show up too early. You didn’t want to appear as if this was the only thing you had been thinking about for the past week, even though it was.

“You can do this,” you whisper to yourself, the phrase playing over and over in your head like a mantra, before grabbing your bag off the island countertop and typing in the code to start the security alarm. Rushing out the door, you close it behind you, the blanket of safety falling around your shoulders. Just another one of your father’s little things. At least you always felt safe.

Making your way down the stairs, you get down to the lobby and then out the glass doors into the rushed city streets. The chill relaxes you, calms your warm clammy skin as you walk down the sidewalk to the bookstore. A small smile grows on your face as puffs of air are made present with each breath. Your apartment was perfectly located, close to both the metro and the bookstore that you loved so dearly. It killed you to leave it behind when you got your Ph.D. but you were determined to be near it when you moved back.

A familiar ringing of the store bell engulfs you in a feeling of comfort as you near the store. It had been years since you went on a date, not like this was one, but you were definitely interested in Spencer and feared scaring him away or just not being interesting enough for him.

Walking through the door was like being transported into another world, The walls were lined with books, floor to ceiling. It was like a palace and you knew that every single book had a different world you could escape to when you needed to, when reality got too much. Every time you brought your dad here to sign some of Shelby’s collection of his books, he too had a similar face of awe. His job was stressful enough, it was the least you could do to help him gain some sort of escape.

“Hey there!” Shelby, the owner, calls out.

“Hi, Shel! How are you today?” you ask, glancing over at at the wall of candles next to her and checking to see if any of your favorites were restocked. It was one of the most alluring parts of the store, the book-themed candles with matching scents.

“I’m doing great, how did your last interview go? I know you were on the last one of the whole process,” she asks.

“It went great! I actually got the job and celebrated that night with my dad and his coworkers. There was actually this one guy--”

You hear the bell ring behind you and twist around to see Spencer standing there, an awkward smile across his face.

“Hey, Spencer! Welcome to the best place on earth,” you swing back to wink at Shelby and then walk forward to stand next to the young doctor. It makes you smile to see his crooked tie sitting underneath his maroon sweater vest and navy blazer. Out of instinct, you reach forward and adjust it before pulling back to realize what you had done.

“I am so sorry, it’s just a force of habit from when I do it for my dad,” you mumble and look down to the floor bashfully in an attempt to hide from the awkward shame.

“No worries. Shall we get to the books?” he asks and looks out to the bookstore. It was mostly barren due to the early hours, but it was perfect in your eyes. The overwhelming smell of paper and ink fills your senses as you direct Spencer over to the true crime section.

“I remember when I first found forensics books in the true crime section. It makes sense, though, forensics is all technically up to interpretation as anything but to me, it’s an interesting way of looking at science,” you state and begin pulling out books from the shelves. The Poisoner’s Handbook by Deborah Blum, Forensics by Val McDermid, and All that Remains by Sue Black. It wasn’t the heftiest stack of books you had walked out with, but you were sure it would tie Spencer over for at least a couple days.

“The same thing could be said about profiling, a lot of people show hesitation when it comes to our profiles, but we haven’t been wrong yet. It was only really in the last 50 years that people started to take it more seriously, although some still don’t believe it to be helpful” he states and you look up at him.

“Alrighty, there are three of my favorite ones. And honestly, if anything I can get you my college textbooks if you really want to enrich yourself, but I doubt those will be as entertaining as these,” you say and let out a little laugh.

“I’ll probably get through these today,” he glances down at the stack of books as you stare in awe.

“How? No way,” you mumble, your eyes widening.

“I can read 12,000 words per minute,” you pause in place, staring in awe as he speaks.

“I stand corrected, I wish I had your mind when I was working on my dissertation. God, I spent hours reading research papers and textbooks that I thought my brain would melt. For you? Light reading,” you state and shake your head. “Spencer you’re incredible.”

“Hm,” he hums and looks down at the floor, almost like a resignation. It was sad to see. Did he not know how amazing his mind is?

“What?” you ask and frown.

“Most people don’t say that when I tell them about me. They usually look at me in awe or like I’m a freak of nature,” he mumbles and huffs. You pause and stare at him for a moment before speaking.

“Well, you shouldn’t listen to them,” you boldly state as he looks up. “Growing up, knowledge and education was the one thing that no one could take away from me. Spencer, I think you’re the coolest person I know, and my dad is pretty famous.”

He lets out a small laugh at that as you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair was a plop of messy curls on top of his head, smoothed down to try and look somewhat put together, and his eyes were a deep brown although slightly dull from lack of sleep. He carried himself a little bit timidly, but he carried the books in his arms like they were the key to unlocking everything. And for that? You adored him.

“Do you wanna go grab some lunch? I’d love to get to know one of my new coworkers,” you tell him and begin walking over to Shelby.

“Sure,” he says, a slight flush on his cheeks appearing as Shelby rings him up and you go through a couple of the candles, taking a quick whiff of the ones that look interesting. You take one that smells like butterscotch and place it on the counter, reaching over to your bag to bring your wallet out.

“I got it,” he mumbles and smiles as you frown, shaking your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him as Shelby takes his card, looking at you pointedly.

“No, it’s alright, I got it.” he responds and takes the small receipt back from Shelby along with his card.

You narrow your eyes, a playful smile appearing on your face as you stare at him while Shelby bags up the books and then hands you the candle.

“I’ve got lunch then,” you tell him and gently nudge his shoulder, a smile spreading over your face. He nods and the two of you walk out of the bookstore into the cold D.C. street. The cafe you had in mind was only a couple stores over and the irresistible smell of freshly baked pastries was unmistakeable as the two of you walked closer. As you approach, Spencer speeds up and holds the door open for you as you mutter a small thanks to him.

The cafe itself was rather small but full of people who were enjoying their mornings out. The menu was littered with several different drinks and food in French. Glancing into the case full of food, you set your eyes on a spinach and cheddar cheese quiche as well as a warm mug of tea. When you walk up to the counter, you look over at Spencer for a moment as he too stares up at the menu. He suddenly looks back at you and you feel like you get whiplash from how quickly you look back to the woman behind the register.

“I’ll take what she’s having and a coffee with room for cream and sugar,” he responds as you quickly hand over your card, ensuring that he has no time to take out his wallet. When the transaction is finished, the two of you move off to the side to wait for your food and drinks.

“So what else do you do besides working and reading? Although, I’d guess work takes up a majority of your time,” you ask, looking over at him as you rub your hands together to help warm them up a bit. You should have brought your gloves, but it had slipped your mind this morning in the midst of all your chaotic thoughts about the day.

“I play chess in the park when I find the time. I also like to watch foreign movies and knit occasionally, although I haven’t really found time for it recently. Most of my time outside of work is dedicated to reading,” he responds.

“Oh gosh, I could never knit. I tried it once and it went very poorly, I just have really bad coordination with my non-dominant hand. Crocheting is my personal favorite type of fiber art, it only really requires one hand,” you smile as your name is called out and your drinks are put on the counter alongside your food. Quickly, you grab the mug full of tea with one hand and feel relief as it begins to warm your cold fingers. With the other hand, the two of you grab your quiches and walk over to the condiments section where you watch as Spencer proceeds to dump several sugar packets into his coffee.

“Not a fan of the bitterness?” you ask and laugh as he dumps the sugar in, stirring it around with a stir stick.

“Just a sugar addict,” he smiles up at you and your heart almost skips a beat in your chest as the two of you maneuver over to a table.

“I remember, sugar over alcohol. I hope the cake that night was to your satisfaction,” you say and begin digging into your food after a quick sip of tea to warm your insides.

“I think it could have had more sugar,” you bark out another laugh and take a bite of the quiche.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you mumble.

“What about you? What do you do in your free time?” he asks and you pause your eating to warm your hands with the mug of tea.

“I like to read as well, although I usually read science-related books. I’ve been trying to broaden my horizons and read some classical literature, I think there’s a lot to be learned from fiction that most scientists fail to recognize. There’s often a gap between humanities and science-related majors, but I think that they’re a lot more similar than they realize,” you speak and feel your hands sweat as you look up at Spencer who appears to be watching you as you talk. “Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?’

“No, you’re fine. It’s not often that people think the two are connect when, in fact, there is a lot that can be bridged between the two. Science can only be progressed if information is shared and made available for people to read, that’s why papers are only accredited if they’re peer-reviewed. I’d like to think psychology is a marrying of the two, both humanities and science. Without the knowledge of human nature, we cannot predict and better ourselves as human beings but without the scientific process, we are left unable to process experiments and theories. So, you’re completely correct,” he says and the two of you are left staring at each other as you soak in the information. Your heart soars at his response and you can only smile as you bow your head slightly to try and hide the warmth in your cheeks.

“Very astute analysis there, Dr. Reid,” you mumble, hiding your smile in your cup as you bring it up to take a sip.

“Thank you, Dr. Montgomery,” Spencer does the same with his coffee and you feel your cheeks stretch even further than imagined, a warmth growing in your chest.

The rest of your “not date” is spent talking about similar things, the disparity that people seem to observe between humanities and science as well as fun facts thrown around to keep the atmosphere light.

“I mean, before photographs, people had to draw crime scenes to keep track of where everything was. The procedures for crime scene investigation were very poor then, though, but they did what they had to do. I find that facial reconstruction is one of my favorite connections between art and science, the fact that scientists learn how to sculpt faces in order to make an identification,” you state as you finish the last bite of your quiche and drink the rest of your tea.

“It goes hand and hand with forensic anthropology to help identify victims. It’s moreso for the family than it is to help find the unsub, but it can add to victimology and help understand how the victim died,” he responds, also finishing the last of his sickeningly sweet coffee.

“But it’s so cool how science and art really are married. To be good at figure drawing, you have to have a good understanding of anatomy and to successfully construct a face, you must know how to sculpt,” you finish and look down at the finished meal, you feel a bit sad to find your time with Spencer coming to an end. “I’ll bring this over to the trash.”

You stand and take the plates with their respective mugs over to the tub of used dishes and discard your tea bag and napkins used. Walking back over, you find Spencer standing next to the table grabbing his own bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Shall we?” he mutters and you nod, following him out the door.

“I’m going this way,” you tell him, pointing back in the direction of your apartment and the bookstore.

“You didn’t take the train?” he asks, hugging his bag close as he furrows his brow.

“Oh! No, I live just a couple blocks down from the bookstore. I chose my apartment for that reason,” you clutch your bag close as well, almost a sort of object to ground yourself so the endless nerves are redirected some place other than your brain.

“I’ll walk you down, then,” he states and moves to stand beside you.

“You don’t have to, it’s just a couple blocks,” you state and shake your head.

“I insist,” he smiles and you can feel your heart jump in your chest. Maybe it was the bright blue cloudy sky behind him or the chill in the air, but something about him felt a bit unreal.

“Al-Alright,” you mumble and begin back down the street, a calm silence settling as the two of you walk in tandem and allow the noise of D.C. to fill the air. The walk is short, shorter than you remember, but the warmth of Spencer next to you is distracting so perhaps the fact that you can’t keep track of the streets is enough to make it feel like no time has passed. In fact, you almost walk past your apartment building, but the glass doors swing open and stop you in your place as someone else walks out.

“This is me,” you glance up at the building and look back at him, unsure of what to say.

“We should do this again some time. I’ll bring you some of the classics that I have so you can have more to read,” he suggests but takes a step back, almost like he regrets the words coming out of his mouth as they do so. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to--”

“I’d like that,” another pause as your heart begins to pound faster. “I’ll text you.”

You lean forward on your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek before spinning around and walking into the building, attempting to catch your breath and not turn to look at his reaction. Hoping and praying you didn’t overstep, you head into the elevator and look out at the street where you see Spencer staring in a sort of awe, a silly smile on his face. The doors close in front of you as you ponder. Maybe it was a date.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #penelope garcia #david rossi #derek morgan #jj #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 3 years

Text

(don’t) wake me up

Hold Me Close (and never let me go) Masterlist

Shirayuki never did wake easily.

That’s what her grandparents always told her, voices fond and smiles baffled as she bounced off walls and stumbled her way to her bowl of froot loops in the hours before nine. Earlier bedtimes did not mean earlier risers, the film of sleep lingering until she was loaded down with her books and binders and bundled onboard her school bus. Not even the allure of a perfect attendance sticker was enough to pry her to full consciousness until after the morning school announcements were done and everyone had taken their seats.

College had been a blessing, any classes scheduled before 10am something everyone mourned. Sleep dazed students piling into their lecture halls wearing a unicorn onesie after lunch didn’t even cause her professors to bat an eye. “Everyone is tired,” Yuuha scoffed, bent over his laptop while downing an espresso with a redbull chaser.

This was fine, she thought. It was the ROTC crowd that were the odd ones; Mitsuhide showering off the sweat of morning PT and downing a plate full of protein before her first alarm of the day had even sounded.

It wasn’t until she was in medical school memorizing the symptoms of sleep disorders that she realized maybe her mornings were not… neurologically normal. But no graduate advisor was going to sign off for the time off needed for a sleep study and she had lived long enough like this, why not hold off a few years more?

Part of her wishes that she had done the tests back then; sacrificed a few perfect grades for the possibility of a well rested morning.

But considering her current predicament, perhaps she saved herself both time and money by not.

“Miss.”

A soft laugh and gentle pressure on her shoulder stops her cold. Blinking blearily, she stares at the whirls of gold paint dancing up a purple wall, the crinkled blue fabric covering the window beside it.

“Ah,” she breathes, rubbing at her crusty eyes. “I thought you weren’t supposed to do that.”

Another laugh, not unkind, filters through the haze. “Do what?”

Shirayuki turns where she stands - Oh, it’s a hallway. They’re in a hallway now. When did they do that? - and says, “Touch me without asking first.”

In the dim of the establishment's lighting, she can barely make out the color of his eyes, but she remembers. Gold. His eyes were… somehow gold.

No, that couldn’t be right.

“There are exceptions to every rule, Miss,” Obi says quietly, but his hands fall through the air, landing harmlessly at his side, and through the soft fuzz wrapping her brain, Shirayuki feels a paign of regret.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asks, his voice just as soft as they had been when the both of them had been wrapped in fresh, clean smelling sheets. “Do I need to call you a Lyft?”

It’s like turning over a flooded engine. She’s cranking the gas, keys turning in the ignition, the starter screaming-- “Oh!” Shirayuki shakes her head, scrubbing at her face again. God, she can’t remember the last time a conversation was this hard. It’s almost as if- as if she just woke up. Or something. “Oh, no. I came with a friend. She’s taking me home.”

In the dim half lighting, his eyes spark with humor and- and she thinks his eyes really are gold. Somehow. Either that or sleep deprivation has caused her to start processing the color yellow inappropriately, in which case, she really should schedule an appointment with a neurolo--

“Good to know, Miss,” he says, gesturing towards the door to the reception area. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you. We went a little over time.”

Shirayuki could not say this with complete certainty, but she was pretty sure she’d never been late to anything in her life. “Huh? Why?”

Obi glances up at the ceiling, scratching at the non-existent stubble at his chin. “You were… rather insistent that you wanted to stay in bed.”

Mortification floods her face with heat and she can only hope that the lighting is dim enough to hide it. She must have- she must have actually slep--

“I’m so sorry,” she blurts. Her grandparents had recorded it one time to show her; grandpa snickering behind their new camcorder as grandma wrangled Shirayuki’s floppy limbs out of bed and to standing. She had flopped right back onto the mattress, spooling the covers around her before grandma could catch her. Twice. To her knowledge, she had never outgrown it. “I’ve never woken up easily.”

His shoulders shake. “It was flattering, Miss, truly. Never have I seen a more satisfied customer.”

Now she wants to ask. But she might melt right through the floorboards first out of sheer embarrassment first. “I can’t believe I just made you lay there for an hour while I slept.”

“Professional hazard,” he quips with a wink. “You wouldn’t be the first lady to fall asleep on me.”

“That somehow doesn’t feel like something you should be bragging about,” she claps back, only to slap her hands over her mouth. Inside thoughts, Shirayuki. Inside thoughts.

“Well.” His hand lands on the door handle, huffing out a sound halfway to a laugh. “It depends on who you are talking to.”

All things considered, she may firmly be in the satisfied customers camp, so it really wasn’t fair of her to tease. Actually, now that she’s thinking about it, if she actually did sleep-- “Can I take you home with me?”

Fingers blanch on the door handle and- oh yes, those eyes were definitely, definitely, gold. “Uhm.”

“I mean!” Shirayuki’s hands slap against her cheeks this time. That- that didn’t come out right at all. “Do you have a business card? Or something?”

Obi just stares at her, and it may be her imagination, what with the lighting and all, but his cheeks seemed a little… darker than before.

“It’s just-” Oh, if only she had been blessed with even an ounce of tact. “I slept so well.”

Rubbing awkwardly at his neck, Obi huffs, “It was just a nap, Miss.” But he reaches behind her, plucking a card off of a wall rack covered in adverts from massage therapists and yoga instructors and, goodness, Shirayuki may have visited half of these establishments. “But any time you feel like drooling on my arm again, feel free to give me a call.”

She wants to tell him that it was more than a nap. It was the first time in months that there hadn’t been dreams. “Thank you.”

“I, ah-” Obi coughs into his fist, staring at the door. “I do have overnight rates.”

It’s Shirayuki’s turn to be speechless.

He tilts his chin towards the bit of cardstock in her hand. “Info on the back.”

Her tongue twists in her mouth, staring up at him, but he pulls on the handle and--

“Oh there you are!”

In the reception area, Yuzuri bounds to her feet, ushering her out of Obi’s shadow and into her arms. She already has her phone out. “I was beginning to wonder if you left or something. C’mon, let’s go get lunch at that little crepe place before things start getting busy.”

Shirayuki casts a wide eye look behind her, only catching the profile of Obi’s face as the door is pulled shut behind him.

“Okay!” Yuzuri bubbles, holding her phone between them as she leads them outside. She is not prepared for the cold blast of early spring air, but she’s even less prepared for the woman smiling up at her from Yuzuri’s phone. Pixelated leafs that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Geocities era flutter across a soft focus headshot, the tinkle of piano keys emerging from underneath the sounds of passing cars. “So this is the reiki lady Kazaha swears by. She’s booked out for months, but he said he was able to get us a slot-”

“Yuzuri-” Shirayuki tries softly.

“-and, yes, I know how you feel about energy work, but her yelp reviews are really good and-”

“Yuzuri, I slept.”

Carefully swept up curls, freshly tied back into a high ponytail stop swinging, and Shirayuki almost bumps into her. Someone does bump into Shirayuki, though, then swears as Shirayuki collapses into Yuzuri’s back.

“Sorry-” Shirayuki begins, glancing behind her, but all that gets her is a dirty look as an old man swings around her, grumbling something about not stopping in the middle of the sidewalk-

Yuzuri takes hold of her arm, shuffling them to a display window. “Did you say,” she begins slowly, staring at her with wide eyes. “That you slept?”

Shirayuki nods, still unable to believe it herself. “And no dreams.”

Yuzuri takes a breath. Then another one. “Do you think… you could seep… some more?”

Any time Shirayuki closes her eyes, they burn, but she does it again and this time, her body goes momentarily weightless with the promise of unconsciousness. “Yea.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuzuri breathes, taking Shirayuki’s arm in hers once more. “Okay, yea, let’s- let’s get you home, then.”

~ ~ ~

“If I had known that this is what you needed, I would have done it ages ago.”

Shirayuki stares at the far wall. It was so much easier back there on the street, still sleep warm and a little bleary, to say that she would sleep. To say that she could. “Mm.”

Yuzuri’s arm wraps tighter about her waist, cold nose brushing against her neck. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed our little outings,” she continues. “I’ve always wanted to try that stuff.”

While Shirayuki doesn’t precisely agree, she’s not going to pretend that it hasn’t been an, ah, experience. “Mm.”

“I wonder why the professional cuddler worked but not the massage therapist?” Yuzuri hums. “If it was physical contact you needed, I would’ve thought--”

Shirayuki sighs, loud enough that Yuzuri stops talking. “It’s not coming.”

Propping herself up on her elbow, Yuzuri pulls at her shoulder, rolling Shirayuki until she’s flat on her back. Brain as heavy as a sack of beans, she watches Yuzuri frown at her still open eyes, confirming that Shirayuki was, indeed, not asleep, and then sighs.

With a plop, Yuzuri collapses back onto the mattress next to her once more, arm wrapping about her middle. It’s nice. Warm. She misses warm.

“Well, we just laid down, maybe you need some more time,” Yuzuri mumbles into her hair, and maybe- maybe she’s right. This is the closest she’s felt to sleep in her own bed in a long time. At least without heavy medication. “And maybe I should stop talking.”

That’s an idea. But it never used to bother her. Grandma could be on the phone right next to her for hours while she napped on the couch, and grandpa’s poker buddies could caw until the wee morning hours outside her bedroom window and Shirayuki would never stir. Even Zen, with his countless 2am business calls with Hong Kong, didn’t bother her--

“What sort of music were you listening to?” Yuzuri asks, flopping onto her back and digging out her phone. “We had some pretty windchimes.”

“Whales.” Shirayuki murmurs, without thinking. “We were listening to whales.”

She hadn’t liked them - they had sounded like drowning puppies - but maybe there was something to the experience that had made her relax enough. She remembers reading about it in a journal once. The researcher had said something about frequencies and brain waves and music therapists having moderate success with the method, but it’s buried under the mounds of more… established papers that she had given more time to.

Yuzuri props her phone up on the nightstand, soft cetacean whines filling the room. Settling back down next to her, Shirayuki’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation of fingers gently winding through her hair. It’s nice. Comforting, even. But not-

“It is working?” Yuzuri whispers.

“Mm.” Shirayuki doesn’t dare move. Not when she’s so close to the edge like this. “A little bit.”

“Maybe the smell is wrong,” she muses, thumb brushing against Shirayuki’s temple in soothing strokes. “Sorry, my hair product can be a little strong.”

Honestly, Shirayuki hadn’t even noticed. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll get you some tea tree oil tomorrow,” she says absently. “I think that’s what they had in their diffusers. I’ve seen the good stuff for sale at the organic grocer down the street from me.”

One by one, her muscles unwind, the pressure on her brain easing. She can’t find the energy to respond, her thoughts winking out one by one--

Buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzzzz

Shirayuki’s eyes spring open.

“First mistake,” Yuzuri groans. “Leaving your phone in the bedroom.”

Shirayuki just might cry. With a whine, she shifts onto her side, moving to grab for her purse dumped at the side of her bed-

A firm hand stops her midroll, Yuzuri staring down at her with her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Second mistake,” she frowns. “Checking it.”

She’s very likely right, but- “It might be the hospital,” she counters.

“Then it’s low priority,” Yuzuri claps back. “You have a pager for a reason.”

“I don’t like making people wait.” Shirayuki squirms out of Yuzuri’s hold, fishing her phone out of her purse. “If it’s small, then it’ll just be a minute.”

“When you’re done, I’m taking that from you and putting it in the kitchen,” Yuzuri grumps. “And putting it on silent.”

“Deal.” Shirayuki smiles, swiping her thumb over the blank screen. Blue swirls fill the screen, a single message notification block blaring across the center that says,

IZANA WISTERIA

“Whelp.” Yuzuri’s chin digs into Shirayuki’s shoulder. “You’re never going back to sleep now.”

With a wince and a familiar churn of the gut, Shirayuki carefully rearranges her face before even attempting to cast her friend an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” she sighs. “You might as well go home. I know Suzu must be missing you.”

“That telephone pole was probably looking forward to a night without me starfishing all over the bed,” Yuzuri grumps, pushing herself up. “But you’re right. I don’t want to be dragged into whatever overtime horror project Wisteria is pulling you in on.”

Shirayuki frowns, watching Yuzuri sweeping up the mess of her hair. “It’s not like that.”

That earns her the rise of an eyebrow. “Then what, pray tell, is it like?” Yuzuri challenges back, pinning her bun into place.

Shirayuki doesn’t know how to answer that question. Doesn’t know how to explain that things are complicated, and not in a Bumble sort of way. That the incident created a strange world where only her and Izana lived, and well…

Well she doesn’t think that Izana would appreciate her talking to anyone about it, even if that someone was her best friend. To be frank, she doesn’t even know how to begin describing the odd dynamic between the two of them.

She struggles for a response for too long and Yuzuri sighs, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and stuffing it in her coat pocket. “Call me if you need anything,” she says, like she always does. “I’ll be over with tea tree-everything in the morning.”

From the comfort of her blankets, Shirayuki smiles. “Thanks, Yuzuri.”

“Mm.” With a lazy wave over her shoulder, she calls. “Don’t stay up too late!”

From down the hall, Shirayuki hears the front door latch shut, her apartment once again falling into stillness. Unnatural silence. And even under her down feather duvet, Shirayuki feels a chill. Maybe she should have asked Yuzuri to turn up the thermostat before she left. Or maybe she should just take the plunge and get herself a cat. They’re warm.

Taking a deep breath, the smell of her single, empty apartment filling her lungs, Shirayuki looks back at her phone. And, with a resigned sigh, clicks Read.

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #professional cuddler au #TAG JEN YOU'RE IT

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ecrivant · 4 years

Text

mind’s eye | jean kirstein

(jean kirstein x reader)

jean reflects on a memory of you and his wishes for the future. takes place in that undefined year after the battle for shiganshina.

word count: 1.5k

a.n. – simply me revolutionizing the x reader fanfiction subgenre by hardly including any romantic aspects. approach this as a self-indulgent jean kirstein character study.

He was never struck by his own exhaustion until he found time to rest. He had learned to carry it, bearing that weight, grudgingly, out of necessity. Thinking of you and your abject willingness to shoulder his burden with him. Selfishness pressured him to concede, to lighten his own load and pass it off to a disposed other, but he did not wish that on you, on anyone. He saw those around him buckling under their own weight. So he carried his. But, in moments of solitary repose, he would find himself collapsed under his own burden.

He sat high above the city, himself having snuck onto the walls past curfew. Overlooking the terrain outside of Wall Maria. The night was cloudy but the ground, clear. The moon, sliced crescent and half-enshrouded by tenebrous clouds, cast a low, even glow. The hazeless air revealed several miles of flat country, distantly and ultimately swallowed by oscillating hills which followed the curvature of the earth. The breeze numbed his exposed skin; winter neared. The leaves on the trees had long since tinged and fallen and decomposed among the detritus, and the now-disrobed branches, like sainted arms proffered towards the sky, swayed, noiseless, their prayers unheard. A silence, disrupted only by his own presence. This barren landscape was marked by an austerity, a quietly plaintive cry uttered by and for some unknown in an unworldly call and response. He realized he had never verily looked at the lay of the outside land. No one had ever been afforded the luxury of regard—landscapes were heretofore solely backdrops of violence—but things were changing, and only with hindsight could one say whether for better or for worse.

He thought of a memory. From a night like this one. You, in the light of the moon, hair glowing and itself luminescent, a fond smile on your face. Airy laughs, timid glances. Instinctively, he shook his head as if to cast it off, familiar with the dangerously seductive quality of his memories. He always worried that if he indulged himself in remembrance, even for a moment, he would render himself incapable of facing the present, for the comfort of memory was beguiling and often lured him like some Ogygian temptress. But he was so flattened, so exhausted by that incessant weight. Was he not allowed some form of respite? Annoyed, defiant, he unfocused his gaze and dissolved into this thought of you.

It commences behind the barracks. He waits, anxiously tapping his foot, hoping your rendezvous would not include Sadies as an unwelcomed third. His pedal movement shakes the unlit lamp in his hands, a quiet toll of metal on metal. Your hooded figure soon rounds the corner, eyes flashing in the dim light, easing his nerves. You walk ahead on the path, he behind you and dragged by an unseen force. Your allure, he posits, always the romantic. Still facing forward, you speak his name, a quiet utterance jettisoned into the woods ahead of you. He hums in response, liking the way your vocalization rings out, clear, in the brisk air. An innocuous invocation of his attention.

“Did I keep you waiting?” An audible smile, coy.

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

A quick laugh, ephemeral, your hood quivering. Your lanterns clink as you walk, the only indication of your movement, as your steps fell silent on the padded forest floor. Cresting a hill, you stop, finally turning to face him. Hands held out with a flourish.

Standing on an overlook, his eyes fall on the view before him. A valley, bathed in dark cobalt. A vast loch tenants the basinous land, flanked by a thick canopy of trees, the mass its own verdant topography. The water, mirroresque. Moonlight captured in scattered reflection. Low-hanging mist, gathered in clouds like a cottoned assembly, divine overseers looming over their aquatic terrain.

“Not bad.”

Your proud smile.

“Thanks, Eren showed it to me.”

Eren, a challenge, playful. He refuses to acquiesce, hiding annoyance, feigning indifference. He instead sits at the interstice between the dirt path and the grassy encroachment, opting to say nothing at all. You seat yourself next to him, head resting on your knees.

“I’m impressed. Someone says ‘Eren’ and you usually see red.” He notices how your head bobs as you speak, chin pushing against your kneecaps.

“So, you’re trying to be an ass, then?” A playful query, devoid of malice.

You turn your head to him, smirking, a wide, toothless smile. Shrugging, you give a noncommittal answer. He admires you; he never really gets the chance to. The way moonlight and shadow compliment your features. It’s nice.

“What’s with the look?”

His eyebrows shoot up, questioning.

“What look?”

You laugh at him—he loves the way your laugh never degrades him. It’s bubbly, effervescent.

“You look like you just fell in love, Kirstein.”

His smile drops. He’s flushed—had he always been so easy to read? Suddenly self-conscious of all the moments past in which he revealed himself and you stayed silent. Your body turns to face him.

“Such adoration,” you remark quietly. An ostensible taunt infused with a subtle sincerity.

“It’s okay, it looks nice in your eyes. Makes them shine. I like it.”

He swallows. When did you get so bold? He looks around, towards the sky, between his feet, anywhere but at you. He feels you inching towards him, a mass of warmth. Swallowing his pride, he looks you in the eyes. They’re affectionately gazing at him, questioning, asking for permission. He stays static. Nervous, excited. The setting, the cool breeze—the perfect backdrop for the memory of a first kiss, he thinks. Always the romantic.

You lean in and press your forehead to his, pausing. His head spins, drunk on potential. You whisper something, barely perceptible:

“Pretty boy.” A simple remark, lovingly stated like an assertion of fact. Dizzying. You pull away, and he falls forward, disoriented. Embarrassed by the meek sound of disappointment that leaves him. Your hand rubs at your neck, involuntary, sheepish.

“I’m not sure if I want this to be the memory of our first kiss.” Funny, he thinks, how the idea crossed both of your minds. Such a slavish focus on mnemonic posterity.

Maybe you were right, though. When he thought of this memory now, it filled him with an inexplicable exhilaration that the memory of your first kiss did not.

You had continued to talk, though his memory was hazy after this point. He remembered you mentioning joining the Scouts, to which he reacted badly: angry concern you had anticipated. You held him, hand in his hair, assuring him you were strong, you could take care of yourself: everything you knew he wanted to hear. He spoke of his mother, how he missed her. You cried together, though he could not remember why. He pressed a kiss to your cheek outside of the barracks, the early dawn gracing your complexion, warming it. In all, a memory sullied by hindsight. The last night before graduation, before Trost, before baggage began to wear the two of you down, spines curving under that weight. He still adored you, every version of you, everyone you had been and would be. Despite it all, he wished for you to one day return to that unburdened version of yourself. Maybe naively so.

“You know, the next expedition is to the coast. We’ll finally see the sea.”

He thought back to earlier today, your hand in his, ambling down a vacant side street. Excitement in your voice writ large—an expedition to a once-inconceivable, now within reach. He had glanced at you, your profile holding his gaze. The years had truly impressed on you a tangible density, a heaviness that bided in your drooped shoulders, the wrinkles of your brow, the sporadic grey in your hair. A dull, thoracic ache overcame him—you were a child, teenage, yet you carried the weight of a thousand lifetimes and had lived through a number equal. He was livid at the worldly injustice, the temporal excoriation. Stolen youth. Fairness was an antiquated concept, long foregone in exchange for a wholly inegalitarian system of cosmic justice—humans forced into meniality. Could you recoup? Get back the purloined years and people and solace that were justifiably yours?

He yearned to see your expression as you stood over that expansive azure. Soon, you would face that endless horizon, representative of new beginnings, possibilities, genesis, loosed of your burdens by some benevolent Parca. He verily hoped for your emancipation, realized through what the Scouts were to discover beyond the walls. Then, there would be time for your affaire—love, veracious, before a backdrop of utopia. It’s all he could hope for, a grail he quietly and firmly embosomed: an aspiration for your shared, future memories to be marked by self-actualized deliverance and impudent love.

—

thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated! i hope you enjoyed this even though it’s not really explicitly romantic in any sense. it’s mostly jean ruminating + some yearning and pining for unachievable things. maybe the next piece will be completely, 100% soft. maybe.

below are the beginnings of a taglist! if you’re interested, drop a line and i’ll tag you in my writing posts! xoxo

taglist: @flam3bird

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot imagines #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein imagine #jean kirschtein imagine #writing!

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the32ndbeat · 4 years

Text

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐧 - [ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 ]

pairing: stalker!jaehyun x fem!reader ( ft haechan and loona’s haseul )

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of BDSM and mature themes

a/n: this is kinda short but I hope you guys like the first part of the ‘only you’ series!

masterlist

You were like a breath of fresh air and something like an alluring enigma amongst the common folk the moment you stepped through those doors. Your hair is swept up into a loose bun with stray locks falling around your face, framing it in the most beautiful way possible. The white cotton shirt you’re wearing is sheer and I can almost see the outline of your bra if only you weren’t wearing a cardigan over it but it’s ok. It looks flattering on you and does nothing to detract you from your beauty.

There is a hint of a smile on your lips, the sunshine illuminating the side of your face and bringing out the liveliness in your eyes that I rarely see among people these days. As you mutter your apologies and slide past an old man who has been staring at the same hammer for the last ten minutes, you exude grace even just by the way you walk and hold yourself.

“Hi, do you work here?”

It takes me a moment to register the fact that you are actually in front of me, looking me in the eye and talking to me. Your voice is as angelic and beautiful as you are, almost like music to my ears. I can already imagine how it would sound when I take you to bed and thinking about it makes me all tingly in the inside. I tap on the brass name tag pinned to my shirt and gesture towards the tool belt I have hanging loosely on my waist. Realisation dawns upon you, followed closely by mortification.

You smack yourself on your forehead, an embarrassed giggle escaping from those cute lips that I want on mine.

“I’m so sorry, that was so stupid of me…” You say and you squint to look at the tiny black letters on the name tag. “Jaehyun.”

“It’s completely alright. We all have moments like that,” I laugh and a smile tugs on your lips.

“It happens so much more often for me though.” You sigh and I wonder if anyone has ever made you feel like you’re any less intelligent than the average person. The thought of that makes me annoyed but I don’t dwell on it.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you guys sell ropes and duct tape here?”

Ropes and duct tape? My, my. What could you possibly need them for?

The question is itching at the back of my mind but I push it away as I flash you a bright grin.

“We do. Right this way.” I turn and you follow behind me.

Manoeuvring between shelves and people, we finally reach the rope section and it takes you a moment to get past a burly man blocking the aisle. He checks you out with those leery eyes of his as you walked towards me and internally I feel irritation creeping in. Creeps like that don’t deserve to look at you that way. You should be respected and men like that don’t respect women like you. I try not to think of how many times this must have happened to you without your notice as I gesture towards the spools of rope of all thickness and colours.

“We’ve got a wide selection here and you’re free to choose whichever you want and however long you want it.”

“Wow, you guys have every kind of rope here.” You said, amazement written all over your face as you grazed your fingers over the spools.

“Yeah, kind of essential since we are a hardware store after all.” I reply. How would those fingers feel on me?

You laugh and there it is again, that smile of an angel. You are so unlike other girls as cliche as that sounds and I can’t help but want to know more about you. Just who are you?

“You’re right. I ask some of the weirdest and most obvious questions ever sometimes, don’t mind me.”

I’d never mind if it’s you.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” I smile as I stuff my hands into my pocket and watch you take your pick of which rope to purchase. As you walked up and down the aisle, I can’t help but notice how snug those jeans looked on you. They look gorgeous on you, bringing out the shapeliness of your legs. When you turn your back to me, I try not to let my eyes drift down to your bottom.

“I’ll have about ten metres of this one!” You declare with a satisfied smile after a moment of deliberation, patting a spool of thin, straw rope.

“Alright,” I pull out a pair of scissors and measuring tape from my tool belt and get to cutting the rope.

“If you’re wondering why I’m buying rope and duct tape, I can assure you I’m not a kidnapper. I just realised how my shopping list could give you the wrong idea.” You say suddenly with a nervous chuckle and I raise my eyebrow at you.

You see the curious look on my face and continue, “Neither am I engaging in…BDSM… This isn’t a fifty shades of grey thing.” The flustered expression on your face is so cute, my heart could burst. What a cute and pretty face with such mature thoughts. Nobody said anything about fifty shades but here you are, assuming that was what I thought of. I wonder, just how dirty your brain actually is and realise with a start that you probably want me to know that you harbour such naughty thoughts so that’s why you said what you said.

I couldn’t hold back the chuckle at the back of my throat as I ask, “Then what is it?”

“I’m actually an architecture student at the local college nearby.” You say and I detect a hint of pride in your voice. You want to impress me - I can tell with that overly bright smile of yours when you said that.

“That’s amazing. Architecture must be pretty hardcore to study,” I say as I loop the cut rope over my elbow.

“It is,” you roll your eyes and groan. “I’m only a freshman and I haven’t even been here half a semester and I’m already dying.”

I laugh softly at your words and you smile. You like the attention I’m giving you.

“Well, it’s only going to get worse so I suggest taking it easy…” I trail off.

“Y/n.” You beam at me and I find myself replaying the sound of your name over and over in my head.

Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. What a charming name.

I grab some duct tape for you off the shelves and we head to the cash register which was as usual unattended to. Normally, I would have given Haechan a piece of my mind for his negligence again but this time, I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Is that all you’re purchasing for today, y/n?” I ask as I scan your items. I love the way your name rolls off my tongue, I could say it a thousand times and never get sick of it.

“Yup! Can’t really afford anything else at the moment either but I’ll probably be back when I need more supplies.” You sigh before adding, “College kid things.”

I’ve never been to college but I nod in an understanding way anyways and you grin.

“It’s just so tough these days, you know? Student loans and all plus the costs of living in the city? Insane.”

“Insane, indeed.” I repeat after you and as you hand me your credit card, our fingers touch briefly. Did you do that on purpose?

I take a good look at your credit card as you were staring out at the streets, seemingly preoccupied with a child who was chasing a flock of pigeons.

Y/n l/n.

Hm, you could have given me cash but you gave me your credit card instead. You want me to know your name, not just your first name but also your last. I see what you’re doing.

I smile to myself as I proceed with the transaction. Bagging up your purchase, I pass them over to you and you say thank you. As you head out onto the street, you turn back and give me another of your dazzling smiles and I feel my heart stutter. How do you already have this effect on me?

I watch you glide down the streets outside with your hair flowing in the wind and the sunlight bringing out the brightness and liveliness in your eyes. The group of girls walking by can’t even hold a candle to you and as you walk past them, they regard you with envious looks which I can’t blame them for. You look simply beautiful.

Once you are out of sight, I whip out my phone.

Y/n l/n. Architecture student.

First, I open up instagram. A quick search of your name doesn’t yield any results. Huh, figures. I try searching up your college instead and this time, I’m slightly more successful.

I find the architecture faculty’s instagram page instead.

A simple scroll down the page shows me a freshmen group photo and I easily locate you within a heartbeat. How could I not?

In the list of tagged usernames, I find yours and…

Bingo.

I’m at your instagram profile and I’m shocked to find it on public mode. You’re not very cautious online and I’m not sure if your parents ever taught you about staying safe on the internet but even if they did, you clearly didn’t take them very seriously. I understand why you left it on public though. You want to be seen and to be heard. Well, here I am.

Barely a minute into looking through your instagram, I already have to control myself. The pictures you take are extremely flattering and you look exceptional in every single of one of them even though some of your post captions say otherwise.

I see a picture of a room’s interior from the corner of my eye and I click on it.

It’s a picture of you and another girl which I presume must be your roommate in a small room that looked more like a broom closet than an actual room. The captions say ‘Move-in day! Super excited and unfortunate to be in the same dorm as Haseul ugh ( jk love you )’

I smile despite myself. How cute.

You have a goofy smile on your face, your friend has her arms around your waist and the two of you look so happy. Yet, I find myself looking at something else instead.

Your window.

(part 2)

thank you to @ihearttbz for helping me to proofread this! ily ><

tagging: @hae-sicheng @soothingjae

do send me an ask or pm if you want to be included in the taglist for the next part!

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lunarnirvana · 4 years

Text

Beach Baby

꧁☮︎︎☽𓁹☾☮︎︎꧂

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Please not read if these subjects upset or trigger you in any way. Heavy themes are often present in my writing.

𓁹 Anxiety symptoms, fighting, cursing, angry/rude Reid 𓁹

Prompt: None

Summery: This is based off of Beach Baby by Bon Iver because I love that song more than myself. Reader and Reid get into a fight so Reader goes to the beach to calm down.

Category: Angst with fluff/comfort at the end??

Word Count: 1k

Paring: Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N: I love this song and all I can think of when I listen to it is when I’m upset and I walk down to the beach while it’s foggy right before it rains so I’m excited about this one ahh hope you enjoy. also sorry for angry Reid/so much angst I promise to write fluff soon

“All the clouds in me are raining,” - R.h. Sin

Never mind the alluring frigidity of the landscape wrought before me in the luster of morning dew. The sky was pale and blanketed with a hazy shroud of cloud cover, concealing the sun’s brilliance. Fog hung low against the ashy dunes and as I walked toward the ocean I felt the sand become firmer under my step. Each footprint sank deep into the dampening earth and I could hear the sloshing of the ocean.

The sound beckoned me toward the sharp daggers of the mavericks. Each wave break, each peaking tide that stabbed the horizon and made the once linear display jagged and discouraging. The sky was grey. Everything was a grey, pale sloom.

How did I get here?

I stood there against the stillness of the beach like a chip in the paint of a white wall. I was a black speck of pepper in a pile of stark salt. My mind felt completely detached from my body and I was suddenly floating on the sea. The wind carried small particles of sand that stung the exposed skin on my body. I was cold.

I wanted desperately to cry, to scream, and so I did. I released all the air in my chest and pushed the waves back with the force of my cry.

With everything in my body expelled by my sobbing wail I collapsed in on myself. A dying star crumbling into nothingness. My hands latched onto my arms and I sat on my heels, just holding myself together by my weak grip.

I couldn’t help but recount what he had said to me. It was destructive and torturous to remember but I still replayed it in my mind until I was numbed by the memory.

𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹

Spencer threw his satchel on the recliner as he walked into our apartment, slamming the door behind him. It startled me off of the couch, my legs pathetically kicking the blanket from entangling my limbs in the knitted fabric. I looked at Spencer, tugging my face into a frown at the sight of him.

Frustration would have been a relief. He was fuming, His hair fell in his countenance and disrupting any aspect remaining of him. He blew out an exasperated breath as he pushed his hair back but his attempt was only met with more strands obstructing his view. I waited for him to apologize for the ruckus, to envelope me in a hug and kiss me and tell me what was bothering him.

It never came. He began to walk into our room wordlessly but my voice stopped him in his tracks. “Spence?” I asked, almost too timidly for being the one expecting an apology. He turned around begrudgingly, leaning against the wall as if to say ‘I guess this is going to take a while’. As if greeting me was a burden.

“Yes?” He spat the response.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I asked, standing to meet him. If he wasn’t going to hug me I assumed I’d have to go to him. He stepped back slightly as I approached and I felt something in my gut twist.

“Yeah, a lot is wrong. You called me, what, six times while I was on the case? When I’m at work I need to be focused on saving lives. Not what kind of food you plan on making for dinner,” It was a completely unprovoked defense but I knew it wasn’t what was actually bothering him.

“You were gone for two weeks, Spencer, I’d say six calls is justifiable considering we’re in a relationship,” I didn’t want it to sound as antagonistic as it did. I tried to soften the blow, “What’s really bothering you?”

“What’s really—“ he cut himself off, looking almost baffled at the question, “What, do you think you’re a profiler now? I’m mad because you’re being clingy, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” I didn’t bother trying to sugarcoat my wordspeak. He was just being irrational at this point.

“Did I fucking stutter?” He retorted.

I let my mouth hang open at his curt dictum before resorting to blatant reprimand. “You need to leave,” I said finally. I felt something hot prick at my eyes and only realized I was crying when I felt the rolling water flowing down my cheeks. The tears pooled in the creases of my mouth and all I could taste was salt and disappointment.

“I need to what?” He asked, dumbfounded that I would even suggest kicking him out. His face softened when he noticed I was crying but not enough to stop the endless flow.

“Did I fucking stutter?” I mimicked his reply.

He wasted no time towering over me, losing any remorse when I changed my tone to a much more aggressive one. It wasn’t a conversation anymore, it was a challenge. Spencer never backed down from the opportunity to debate someone into the dirt. What he didn’t seem to realize was, I didn’t see it as a debate.

It was a fight. And likely the worst one we’d had. His behavior stunned me into matching his seemingly blind rage.

“You’re seriously kicking me out after the week I just had? Do you realize how important my work is?” His voice raised a decibel each word he uttered.

“And mine isn’t?”

“I didn’t say that—“

“You implied it.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Y/N. Stop being manipulative,” he didn’t hold back anymore. I seemed to only fuel his anger.

“How am I being manipulative when you’re the one attacking me?”

“Attacking and manipulating are two completely different words with completely different meanings. Do I need to get you a fucking dictionary?”

“Stop treating me like I’m an idiot, Spencer!” I was screaming now. Composure wasn’t my strongest suit but the more we argued the worse my breathing rhythm got. My chest felt constricted as I began violently sobbing. I was choking on snot and mucus and trying hard to muffle my cries against the palm of my hand but they still broke through between my fingers.

“Listen, I’ve had a really shitty case and I need to get some sleep,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So that’s what this is all about? A bad case?” I finally managed to say.

“Yes! Of course it is! How are you that clueless that you couldn’t see that?” He was yelling just as loudly now, his voice booming over mine. His words shrunk my demeanor into a shaking insect. I felt my breath hitch finally, having expected this reaction from such an aggressive interaction.

“I—I can’t be here right now. I have to go,” I suddenly breathed out and grabbed my coat from the hook beside the front door. Feeling the wool fabric in my hands was the only thing that brought me comfort. Something that was supposed to be Spencer’s job.

I didn’t hear any protest but I was sure there would be. No matter how mad Spencer got at me he’d never let me drive in such a condition but regardless, I did.

After running two red lights on my way there, I was finally standing barefoot in the cold sand. It was teetering on springtime but the crisp residual chill of winter still stained the temperature.

I buried my face in my palms and continued to weep, softer now that I expelled any volatile emotion from my fragile being.

I felt something warm snake around my waist and shrieked in surprise, thrashing back at the assailant. I was suddenly pulled tightly into someone’s chest, suddenly on my feet. Spencer swayed back and forth as he enveloped me in his bliss. I felt his lips connect to my temple as he graciously kissed the surface.

“I’m sorry. Oh god, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled the words against my face, refusing to disconnect his face from mine.

“Why the fuck would you say any of that to me? You—you can’t treat me like this every time you have a bad case,” I managed to blubber the words out. As the expression flowed endlessly from my mouth I felt him tighten his grip on my frame.

“I know, I know. I’m an idiot and I screwed up. I’m so sorry,” his voice was cracking and he swallowed to try and clear his throat to no avail. Then I felt his chest heaving against my back and realized he was crying himself.

I tried to pull away but he latched onto me. “Spence let me go.”

“Not until you’re breathing slows down,” he said and I realized I’d been hyperventilating since he arrived. As he held me and made me realize I was, I began to try and correct the rhythm.

Finally, I managed to calm down in his embrace. Once I did he spun me around to face me but didn’t let go of my waist. He never lifted his hands from me, only slid them across my body to new locations. He was afraid I’d run away again.

“I know I can’t take back what I said. I know I made a mistake and it’s going to scar us for life but I will do anything to make it up to you. I love you, Y/N. I can’t live with myself knowing I hurt you like this,” He was pleading while he leaned down to meet his forehead to mine, “Please forgive me. I don’t deserve it but I can’t imagine being without you. I know this isn’t going to be easy to bounce back from but I want to try if you’re willing to do the same.”

I blinked in the pasty light and watched his eyebrows furrow, his tear stained skin now speckled with sand that had blown against it. I reached my hand up hesitantly but the feeling of my palm against his veneer was overwhelmingly consoling. He leaned into my touch before cupping my own hand with his.

“I forgive you,” I said softly.

“We’re gonna work on this. I’m gonna work on this, I promise you, love.”

I attached my other hand to the opposite side of his face and pulled him down to my lips. He kissed me like I had left him for good and he finally found me at the end of his journey. He ravished my waist and back and body with his hands as he did before he pulled away. He began freckling my face with pecks before making his way across my jawline and down my neck.

“Spence?” I asked softly. I didn’t want to interrupt the moment but curiosity overtook the pleasure.

“Yes, darling?” He asked as he pulled away and searched my expression for vacillation.

“How’d you know where I would be?”

“You always come here when you’re upset. Come on, it’s freezing out. Let’s get you home,” his hand fell behind me on the small of my back as he guided me to his car. I relished in the heat of his body, leaning my head against his shoulder as we walked.

#cm fan fiction #cm fan fic #cms #reid fan fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fanfiction #reid fan fiction #spencer fan fic #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid fluff #reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #cm imagine #cms imagine

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 5 years

Text

I Got You

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Blood, mild violence, fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: So I decided to make this three parts to sorta make up for the short last one. I am working on all of my requests and I plan on going back and forth between them and my originals. My requests are still open!

Hurt // Beginnings

“Just be careful, alright?”

Y/N nodded, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. “It’s gonna be alright, Din. I can handle it.”

Din nodded, but he was still tense. This was the first job since she started where it was her taking the reins and going solo. He was too noticeable for the job; they’d be able to pick him as soon as he walked in. They had to keep a low profile, and so Y/N devised a plan to lure their man out, who would no doubt be at the local cantina drinking himself to death.

“He’s probably going to be too drunk to comprehend what’s going on anyway. Besides, you’ll be outside waiting for me,” she assured him. “If you hear or see anything, you’ll be right there with me.”

He knew it was supposed to be soothing, but he wasn’t finding any solace in her words. Y/N felt this and sighed.

“Listen, you need to calm down. It’s not good for either of us,” she gently reminded him. “Gotta keep a clear head here.”

Din sighed, grabbing her hand to place against his chest plate; right over his heart. She leaned up on the tip of her toes to press her forehead against his, closing her eyes and taking in the coolness of the beskar.

“I’ll be okay,” she promised.

…

Y/N wished she could’ve kept that promise.

It was all going so well until a there was a gun fight. Turns out, the man had made a lot of enemies on the way, and there were plenty eager to set whatever debt or deal they had with him with violence.

“Hello sweet thing,” the man stuttered. He wasn’t near blackout drunk yet, but he certainly was on his way.

Y/N didn’t need their tether to practically feel Din grit his teeth through the coms. She shuffled, making sure the red dress she wore was still just as alluring as Din confirmed it would be much to his chagrin.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Din defended. “Because I do with all my heart and soul. It’s just I get… protective I guess I should say. I’m not afraid of you leaving me or not being able to fight. I know you’re capable on your own, but even I can’t win all the fights.”

The frustration was prominent from him, coursing through her body on full edge, even making her body just as tense as the mans before her.

“I understand,” she said. “I do. I worry about you too, you know.”

She held him in her arms that night – he was practically asleep on top of her, but his weight in that moment was reassuring, warm – and kissed him awake with small little kisses around his face in the dark until he chuckled at her ministrations.

And Din would be clenching his fists until they burrowed through those gloves and drew blood if he saw the way the man laid his hand on her bare knee with a sloppy coy smile.

“H- how about w-we get out of here?” The man stumbled.

Play it cool.

She willed herself (Din) to calm down before putting on the best seductive smile she could produce. “Sure, handsome.”

“Not with my bounty you won’t.”

The hunter sat in the far, dark corner of the bar, glaring at them.

“And don’t even think of reaching for that gun little girl,” the man scorned once he saw her hand twitch.

Knowing Din, he was probably circling around to get him from behind. All’s she had to do was buy them some time.

“Look,” she started. “How about we make a deal?”

The hunter smiled. “Sorry miss, gotta trust you first. And so far, you’re not very convincing.”

She heard the shot just before she saw him, but the hunter appeared to not go down without a fight, his trigger finger automatically pushing on reflex.

Din felt it before he heard her cry out. The sharp pain coursed through his upper thigh, the burning sensation enough to almost bring him to his knees. The shot to the man was swift, as quick as the moment happened.

“Kriff,” she groaned, clutching her thigh. “That’s gonna leave a scar.”

He rushed over to her, ripping a part of his cape to tie over the wound. He grabbed the bounty before he could make a run for it, aiming his blaster at him with a vengeance.

“Don’t move,” he snarled at him. He turned to Y/N.

“We gotta go now,” he growled. “Are you okay to walk?”

She grunted, nodding her head. He swung her arm over her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist, the other grasping his blaster so tightly she was sure he would break it.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened to you,” the man tried reasoning with them. “I’ll make it to you. To the both of you, I promise!”

They didn’t say anything as they found a speeder, Din helping her delicately swing over. The trip back to the Razor Crest wasn’t long, and the man knew better than to fight his way out; he’d be dead the moment he tried.

The first thing Din did once Y/N was stabilized was put their bounty in carbonite, giving him a particularly hard shove before he froze. He then helped her to the edge of their cot where the Child was sleeping and set off to look for the kit; she had to guide him to it with her finger he was so frantic.

“You already lost a lot of blood,” his voice trembled. “But this spray and shot should do.”

Y/N yelped at the sting of the needle in her leg; it made his leg twitch as well at the sensation. He gave her a quiet apology, wrapping her wound up with such gentle precision for a man as rough and ruthless as he could be. Sometimes it made her feel special, that she was one of the only people who got to experience that side of him.

His hands hung limply on either side of her hips, head low. The Child, who was thankfully still asleep behind them, sighed in his sleep.

“I’m - .”

“I know.”

His voice was gruff, tense. She sighed, grabbing his hand in hers and intertwining their fingers. He looked at this and visibly relaxed, only a little, but it was a start.

“That could’ve gone better,” she finally joked.

There was a chocked huff, which she took as a stifled chuckle. It made her smile.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to take my helmet off.”

She frowned but nodded her head and tried to back up so he could close the hatch, but he stopped her, mindful of her leg.

“That’s not,” he was struggling, gnawing at his lip. “I… I want… I want you to take it off.”

She gasped, mouth agape as she took in what he just said. She could feel his growing nervousness, but also the relief at the thought of him being open to her like this. It was stronger than any fear or doubts they’ve ever experienced, and it made her hurt nearly burst.

“A-are you sure?” She stammered. “I mean… your creed. I couldn’t ask you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

This time he didn’t try to hold in his laughter, patting her uninjured leg. “I wouldn’t ask if I was. I want this. I want you to see me.”

He gulped, shifting on his knees between her legs. She didn’t think she ever saw him this skittish before.

“I could’ve lost you today. And it made me realize that this life… any life really, is short. It can end at any moment and I would never forgive myself for denying this from us.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly interjected. “And I’m absolutely positive this is what I want. You’re my soulmate, Y/N. The love of my life. And I’m ready to take the next step with you. If you are, of course.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, but in a good way. She grinned widely, and that grin prompted him to lead her wrists to the cheeks of his helmet, his own hands falling after he was sure she wasn’t going to move.

“Go ahead,” Din whispered.

Her hands felt cool and clammy as she held her breathe, slowly lifting the helmet over his head. His eyes closed instinctively, too afraid to see her reaction. It had been so long since another living thing had seen his face, and the fear that she wouldn’t like what she would see tried to cloud his mind; Y/N wouldn’t let it.

“Wow,” she exhaled. He was everything she ever dreamed of, but better. Her fingers traced his face delicately, outlining his plump lips, the stubble on his cheeks, crooked nose and closed eyes. His breath ghosted over her palms, making her shiver in a delicious way. “Din, baby. Please open your eyes.”

He couldn’t deny that soft adoration in her gentle demand and opened them slowly. It was everything he ever imagined, seeing her without the helmet’s filters. Her eyes twinkled as they met his dark brown ones, and if it were possible her grin would’ve stretched even more.

“You’re beautiful.”

Din kissed her, swallowing her surprised gasp and cupping her face gently. Her hands ran over his wavy hair, twirling a few strands of it in between her fingers. It felt divine, the bare touch of her skin against his, and he found his body shaking from the sensory overload of it.

They only pulled away for air, both panting with their foreheads pressed together. They sat like that for a few blissful moments with her playing with the strands of hair at the back of his neck – she didn’t miss the way it made him quiver – before kissing the tip of his nose.

“We need to cut your hair soon.”

Tags: @scarlett-berserker, @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @outlawers, @hejahockey, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @bluejeancntrygrl, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @angel-hunter-winchester, @tedpicklez, @pascalisthepunkest, @coffeeandtodd, @blunt-cake-yes

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin x reader #soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars #the child

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ccatskies · 4 years

Text

sciflash | chemistry class

rasa’s request

★━━━━━━━━

"Chemistry is the study of matter and energy and the interactions between them. This is also the definition for physics, by the way. Chemistry and physics are specializations of physical science."

There goes that voice. Flash resisted the urge to let a groan slip out and annoy the teacher who had just commenced the said class. He knew Chemistry, but today was awfully boring. No matter how much he despised a few subjects, it just wasn't his thing to barge in like a despicable roach and get on a teacher's nerves.

That would be his complimentary rascal of friend's field of expertise.

His eyes darted towards one of the tables in the third row, snorting as he suppressed a laugh. There's the adorable rascal.

Dash was, as usual, being a brat about things and getting her hand slapped from time to time by Shimmer, who had mentally declared that life was quite meaningless at this point, especially if you had to deal with Rainbow touching random potions for entertainment to bust everyone's asses six feet into the sky and out of the Chemistry Lab.

"Chemistry tends to focus on the properties of substances and the interactions between different types of matter, particularly reactions that involve electrons - ah, wait a second." Mr. Cranky interpolated, holding up a finger prior to walking off to the teacher who had been waiting for him at the door to deliver a message on the urgent change of routines.

Sentry suppressed a yawn, shyly glancing at his partner from the corner of his eye. In an instant, blood rushed up to his cheeks, coating it with adorable pink tints scattered across them like a pretty bunch of full bloomed roses. He brought his hands closer to his chest and leaned back on the chair, while the latter stood straight, fiddling with the bottle of a potion and going through her notes once again.

Sparkle's hair was in a messy bun, tied up with a rubber band while a big gold star laid on top of it. Few strands of her indigo hair gave her side profile astounding visuals for him just stare at. Her rosy cheeks had a special warmth, radiating a glow over her honey bronze skin. Her white laboratory coat only added onto her daunting look, as she maneuvered her finger tip through the pages of the Chemistry book.

She looked to the side once again, her alluring side profile snatching his view once again.

Fuck, he mused, one hand flying up to his face, as he cupped his right cheek to feel the warmth that generated from the abrupt blood rush.

Sure, it wasn't his first time looking at her, and definitely not the last.

More importantly, he wasn't sure how she did that to him like it was simply nothing, whereas it took him ages to have her blush in front of him. Of course, he knew she might've been hiding those blushes which burst out like balloons only when he took special measures but when it came down to him, she didn't need to even life a finger.

"Hey."

She was honestly so breathtaking - did no one tell her that?

"Huh, Flash?"

Breathtaking was an understatement too, he figured. She was just drop dead gorgeous, as if she was a beauty hailing from the heavens above - and Flash definitely didn't exaggerate that. He's seen Shimmer casually flirt with her, while Sparkle would laugh and playfully slap her shoulder.

Sunset's teeny tiny crush on the adorable bookworm justified the class Twi fell under. She's dated Timber, prior to ending the relationship on a good note. And all they had to say about his best friend was that she was so worth it.

"Flash!"

He broke out of the trance, blinking twice as he found his stinging eyes water, before squeezing them shut, a small drop traveling down his lashes, "h-huh. . .?"

"Your eyes!" Sparkle gasped, drawing herself closer to the teen boy, resting one of her warm hands on the surface of the table and the other on his left shoulder. She subconsciously brought herself to examine those pretty cornflowers, bearings her face towards his. Her breath fanned over the tip of his red nose, as she tilted her head, worry evident in her tone, "do they sting?"

"Wha-" he opened his eyes at the sound of her honey voice, a little taken aback as he registered the proximity, "ohh, fuuck."

She only made it worse for him, furrowing her brows at his words, as she dragged her lower lip under the edge of her teeth, "what? Does it sting too bad? You're tearing up, so - "

"N-not that!" He sputtered, biting his lip as soon as he stared up at her violet globes, "umm, I. . ."

"You what?"

"Your eyes." He immediately blurted, his cheeks betraying him once again, as he gazed into the most beautiful pair of eyes ever, astounded by the way they carried themselves. He swore that he could see the entire galaxy and at least a thousand constellations imprinted on those small captivating sultry orbs, reflecting back on his like the sun's rays.

She suppressed a giggle, breaking into a small smile, before she brought up her index up to his visage, cutely booping his nose, "my eyes? Ooh, are you flirting with me?"

His cheeks flushed into the shade of red - almost as red as the color of a scarlet Dahlia. Damn it, Century! Not now!

"Uh, no?"

Twilight snickered, not taking his response seriously, "is this the time to make jokes? I thought that's our thing only when classes are off."

"Wow," he scoffed, warm air purging through his nose, as he tilted his head to the side opposite to hers, "I'm mad that you don't take hints."

She raised a brow in amusement, letting a lighthearted laugh break through her system, "hint? What hint?"

"That I'm genuinely trying to compliment you for a reason."

She leaned back and flopped down onto the sit next to him, propping an elbow on the armrest as she cupped her cheek, "oh really?"

"You're pretty, am I not allowed to say that?" Flash rolled his eyes, groaning in exasperation, "fuck that, you're beautiful."

That had her blush. No matter how experienced she was at hiding those, she could not get do so for long.

Twilight smiled and bit her lip, vanquishing her urge to press him further but rather have him blurt out things (so that she could put them to use the next time she felt like embarrassing him). He had immediately caught onto the look on her face, growing a little shy at the indication.

"Why are you giving me that look?" Sentry huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "am I not allowed to call my best friend pretty?"

"U-uh. . ." she laughed a little nervously, her thin silver glasses sliding down a little down the bridge of her nose, as she concealed her cheeks from his view with her hands over them, "noooo."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, curving into an attractive grin as he reached out his arm to pull down her hands from her face, leaning in closer to catch a sight of her turn to be red, "awww, did I finally get you?"

She caught both of his wrists as they neared her, looking down on her lap, as she felt the burning sensation course through her. The boy only smiled, his insanely attractive dimples glowing from the corners of his wide smile, as he trailed his bigger hands down, smoothly intertwining his fingers with that of the Teacher's Pet.

She looked up at him holding back a few giggles, as she snorted, her honey cheeks tinted pink like cotton candy, "are you playing with me, Flash Century?"

His smile instantly dropped as he scoffed in disbelief, "did you really just say that, Twinkle Sprinkle?"

"Twinkle Sprinkle?" Twi's jaw hung low, as she maintained her posture, still having her fingers locked with his tan ones. Her face was a mess right now, red with embarrassment as well as flattery, showcasing the cute freckles splattered across the area surrounding her nose. "Oof, you're gonna get it. That's the childish nickname you gave years back. I thought we settled that you won't use it anymore!"

"I - " he laughs silently, as she frees her hands from him, standing back up and maneuvering her hands through several potions, desperately wanting to free herself from the situation.

Flash stood right next to her, his seraphic smile as heartwarming as ever, as he whispered next to her ear, warm breath hitting her skin like a steam and making her freeze on the spot, "cute little Twinkle Sprinkle."

She turned to face him, but was rather met with his chest - curse her shortness. She blushed profusely once again, prior to staring up at him, as she scoffed, "you're certainly hitting on me."

He moistened his lower lip, the same warmth radiating from his presence, as one hand slipped down to her waist, "of course, you pretty little thing."

"You are pretty," she immediately snapped back nonchalantly, her face as straight forward and genuine as ever.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The boy bit his lip, the shyness slipping out again. It took him a while to get her flustered but how the hell did she do it within a second?

Was this the Sparkle effect?

That made him feel magical and helpless? That made his heart beat like the thunderous sound of drums?

"You're staring again, Flash," Twi coughed, masking her flustered front, and replacing it with a terrible poker face.

"I again do that for hours actually." He removed his hand from her waist, dragging his lower lip under his teeth, as he shyly looked down on the table.

"Wow," She playfully punched his chest, letting out a laugh which rang through his ears like a serene and paradisiacal euphony, "you're. . . unbelievable, Sentry."

She pursed her lips into a thin line, prior to gazing at his features with a goofy grin, "unbelievably gorgeous, that is."

"Stop," he bit his lip, letting out a sigh in disbelief, "how can you just do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fluster me easily."

"I do that?"

"Yes."

She scrunched up her nose, smiling adorably, "well, then. Guess I found my new hobby!"

"What? No."

"Definitely."

"You're not - "

"You're the cutest."

"I - "

"Softest - "

"A little marshmallow. That's what I think of when I look at you. A sweet and cute little marshmallow." She snickered, "I can poke and kiss your squishy cheeks all day - "

"H-huh?" He had the cutest face on - with utter disbelief was etched on his features, while the pink blush never seemed to go away. If Flash could recall all of his shit talk with the tiny bookworm, he would swore that she never played the flirty card. It was either getting flustered or masking it.

Did he hear that right? From Twilight?

Twilight stepped back, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. She held back a boisterous laugh from breaking out and destroying her system as soon as she spotted her so-called friend's lips quiver, with the biggest flustered look on his face, screaming what just happened?

"Guess I won this time, Habibi."

━━━━━━━━━★

#sciflash #sci twi #flash sentry #drabble #writing #nivia writes #rasa take my love

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themusicplayedherlife · 5 years

Text

Of Warmth and Growth

pairing: dick grayson x f!reader characters: reader, the team, dick grayson word count: 7.7k+ warnings: angst, self doubt, and boat load of fluff summary: dealing with a broken heart isn’t easy, but your friend megan is hoping to get you out of that fink by inviting you to her holiday party where you meet someone that might help you move on. a/n: there’s a whole story behind this--originally this was started as a requested oneshot, but i couldn’t bring myself to finish it, so i revamped it and wrote a different story that i posted some time ago. fast forward to november, i made it my goal to finish this before the new year, and i was so close, too, but family took priority. there might also be a disconnect, but I really tried smoothing it over, hopefully I did well. anyway, better late than never, though?

Happy Harbour

December 7, 2019

“Sometimes it’s very hard to move on, but once you move on, you’ll realize it was the best decision you’ve ever made. You’ll see.”

You want to laugh bitterly at Megan’s words, but her sympathetic smile and warm gaze are holding you back from doing so. She’s only trying to help, you’re reminded by your conscious as she continues to spew words of healing and bullshit. Utter bullshit.

Your bitterness wins and you say, “I know,” wanting nothing more than for her to shut up.

Her smile turns sheepish and she pats your hand affectionately before excusing herself to get more coffee, or to get away from you. You wouldn’t blame her if it was the latter, you haven’t exactly been good company to keep around since your break up.

Sighing, your eyes trail to the world on the other side of the small cafe’s window. It’s bustling and full of people with shopping bags, all of them preparing for the holidays. It really is a different world outside, you muse. Everything inside the coffee shop is warmer and cozier—quieter compared to the outside. It almost, almost makes you forget about your broken heart that was ripped and stomped on by the person you thought loved and cared for you, things that you still, unfortunately, feel for them.

Your red-haired friend comes back with two styrofoam cups instead of one, and she sets one down in front of you, taking her seat across from you once more. “I got you another earl grey.”

You pick up the warm styrofoam, enjoying the heat against your palm. “Thank you.”

Megan doesn’t say anything for once, instead she watches the world with you, letting only the soft jazz of the cafe to envelop you. You can tell she’s going over something in her mind, she’s never this quiet unless she’s thinking, and that’s—usually—never a good thing, at least not when it pertains to you.

It’s not until you’re halfway done with your drink that she finally speaks, having grown restless with her thinking. She’s looking at you, her eyes narrowed and a little shaky, never really making contact with your own, but still facing your direction. “Sooo, I was thinking,” she drawls, “Conner and I are inviting some of our old friends over for a little get together this weekend and I thought, hey, maybe I can convince my best friend in the whole universe to finally meet my other friends, you know, I want us all to be friends and—“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right; sorry. It’s not going to be a huge thing, just a few of us watching crappy movies and drinking spiked eggnog, maybe play some games or something.” She reaches for your hand holding your drink and finally meets your eyes. “And I really want you to be there. What do you say, huh?”

“Megan,” you start warningly.

She raises a hand as a peace sign. “I know, I know! You said you wanted to keep a low profile this holiday season, but I really want to introduce you. They’re really nice people, a little odd, but so am I and you’re still my friend!”

You purse your lips, mulling over the idea. “Are the girls going to be there?”

“Yes! Well, Karen will be, I’m not sure about Wendy, yet. Should probably ask her tonight.”

Again, you think it over. Not only will you be in a small, confined space with a lot of people (she might have said it wasn’t going to be huge, but you and her have different definitions for small and huge), you’re going to be stuck in a confined space with strangers. It doesn’t sound very pleasing, but then again, you haven’t been very pleasant and there’s no denying that you always dodged her past intents to get you and her friends to hang out, and yet, she’s still here, trying to cheer you up.

You owe it to her.

“Okay, I’ll go.” She immediately squeals. Loudly. Blushing, you look around the cafe, and just as you feared, everyone in the small cafe is looking at you. You sigh, lifting a hand to stop her from over exerting herself—and from embarrassing you any further. “Just don’t expect me to bring anything.”

“That’s fine! That’s fine! As long as you bring yourself, I’m content.”

You’re going to regret it, you just know it.

Happy Harbour

December 14, 2019

You tug at the hem of your outfit, uncomfortable. You could hear the loud laughter of the people inside accompanied by the soft hum of Megan’s holiday playlist. In your hand is a Tupperware full of brigadeiro, a Brazilian dessert your grandma used to make for the holidays before she completely quit eating sweet things (in front of your mom anyway).

Fingers tighten around the container. Maybe you should go... You could always deal with an angry Megan later.

“Are you going to go in or are you just going to stare at the wreath all night?” A deep, amused voice registers in your mind and your body jerks in response, almost making you drop the Tupperware if it weren’t for the steady hand holding you against their strong, chest. “Whoa, there!” he exclaims, warm air fanning over your neck. “You all right?”

He doesn’t allow you to pull away until he steadies you, making sure you’re upright before letting you go. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out. “Thank you.”

He chuckles and you whirl around to meet your assailant and savior—and holy fuck is he gorgeous. They were gorgeous, too, but in that average kind of way. Nothing about them stood out to people, but to you? They were the most beautiful person you had ever seen. But this man in front of you, you had to be stupid not to notice how gorgeous he is. Striking blue eyes peering into you, a mischievous glint in them and matched by the lopsided smirk adorning his face; unruly black locks in waves and falling to one side as he runs his fingers through his hair. There’s something distinctly boyish and alluring about him that it renders you speechless.

“Megan never told me she had such a gorgeous friend,” he suddenly says. Or maybe not so suddenly because you’re sure his mouth had been moving before you allowed yourself to fall under his spell.

Hold on.

Wait a second.

Gorgeous?

Did he really just call you gorgeous, too?

Your throat closes and your eyes widen, hopefully not comically or at all because holy shit. A really gorgeous man just called you gorgeous. The last person to ever compliment was your mom. But she’s your mom. She’s supposed to think you’re pretty good looking. And before that it was them. And realizing it now, they probably never even meant it. So this? This is new and weird and what the fuck are you supposed to say to something like that to someone like him. “I—“

A draft of air hits your back as the door is swung open behind you. The Christmas music that Megan has been preparing since June is louder than before without the door closed.

“You’re here,” she squeals, wrapping her arms from behind you, her chin settling on your shoulder. “I’m so happy you came!” She kisses your cheek messily and something sweet and alcoholic fills your nostrils. “And you brought something!”

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t make it a thing.” You laugh, pulling away as she makes a show of having to let you go. “How much eggnog have you had?”

“Not too much.” Her eyes turn to the other guest and her eyes brighten. “Dick!” Dick? What kind of name is Dick? Was his mom angry at his dad? Noticing your stare, he smiles down at you, amusement never leaving his face before he turns to Megan. “You’re here! Wally and the others are already here.” She moves away from the door to let you both in.

Dick gestures to the inside of her apartment. “After you.”

Blinking owlishly, you thank him and enter the loud apartment full of people you don’t recognize—well, mostly of people you don’t recognize. There’s Karen and Mal by the Christmas tree talking to a redhead and a blonde, who Dick makes his way over to after excusing himself. Wendy is with Marvin by the snack table, the two arguing—really it's Marvin arguing—about which dessert is the best for the holidays, and a few other really gorgeous and fit people. Why are all of her friends ridiculously good looking?

“You okay?” Megan asks, her hand settling on your shoulder and squeezing lightly.

Your head swivels in her direction. “What?”

“You were frowning,” she says softly. “Hey, if I forced you to be here—“

“No,” you interrupt her quickly. “No, I’m glad you invited me, I just—I’ll be okay. I promise. You were right about me having to move on. I can’t avoid society forever because of a broken heart. I just need to get used to… this,” you say, moving your eyes around the party of people that seemed to already be coupled off.

She smiles gently but doesn’t seem all that convinced. “I’m right here if you need me, okay?” She takes the Tupperware from your hands. “Come on, let's say hi to everyone.” When you bristle, as you take off your coat, she laughs. “In moderation.”

An hour into the party and you’ve already become acquainted with mostly everyone at the party. You meet Wally and Artemis, the couple who were with Karen and Mal when you first arrived; Raquel and her baby boy, Amistad. Cassie and Tim; Jaime and Bart; Gar and some really weird guy who keeps glaring at Conner; Kaldur, who looks strangely familiar—and only smiles when you mention it before being pulled away by Megan—and Barbara, who eyes you momentarily before flashing you a warm smile. She’s a little intimidating, if you’re being honest.

There are still a few more people you have yet to meet, but you seriously need a break, and you say as much to Megan.

“You said a little party,” you say accusingly, as if you hadn’t known this was her definition of small.

She laughs, her arm hooked around yours as she pulls you towards the spread of food and drinks. “It is little!” She lets go of you, opens the treats you made and places them between all the others. She then grabs a clean cup to fill it with eggnog before handing it to you. “Here! Conner and I made it, so it might not be… good.”

You take a tentative sip of the thick liquid made out of egg and spices and doused with alcohol and holy fuck do you regret it. “You and Conner made this?” you sputter, the taste of bourbon lingering strongly on your tongue.

She pouts. “The recipe called for a ton of bourbon to counteract the sweetness!”

You pull the cup away and eye the liquid with scrutiny. “Did you put a whole bottle of Bourbon from Costco in here?”

“Yes?” she answers, a little unsure. “Probably. I don’t actually remember.”

Conner comes up from behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. “Enjoying yourselves?”

She tilts her head to kiss him on his cheek continuously and smiles. “Always.”

You avert your gaze.

“It’s good to see you again,” Conner addresses you after they’ve had their fill of small pecks. Honestly, you don’t blame them for being so affectionate and in love. It wasn’t that long ago that the two finally decided to give each other another chance after a falling out that Megan still doesn’t want to talk about. And again, you don’t blame her. You don’t want to talk about the reason why you and your ex broke up either, let alone think about it.

You hum and reluctantly move your gaze back to their interlocked embrace. You manage a smile. “Same to you. Been a while hasn’t it?”

Before he can reply, Gar interrupts with a call of their names. He’s standing near the fireplace with Bart, leaning over something. “Come check this out!”

Megan wiggles out of Conner’s hold and instead grabs his hand to lead him towards the boys. “Don’t go anywhere!”

Conner flashes an exasperated glance at you over his shoulder, which you return, before he wraps his arms around Megan again—the two laughing and joking about who knows what as they close the distance between them and the boys.

Sighing, you take another sip of the eggnog and your face scrunches in response to the liquid coating your tongue. “Bleh.”

“Fell victim to the spiked eggnog, I see,” a voice cuts through your thoughts as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Eyes snap up to meet the familiar, amused gaze of Dick. “Uh, yeah.”

He offers you a different mug and you eye it suspiciously. He chuckles. “It’s just apple cider, I promise.”

You reluctantly relent, taking the mug he offers as he takes the one you had been drinking. You take a sip, and surprisingly enough, it really is apple cider, no alcohol at all. “Oh, god, thank you.”

He flashes you a pearly smile, and takes a sip of the eggnog without grimacing. “So, how did you meet Megan and Conner?”

“Oh, um, from school. We went to the same high school.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I was a year below them, but I became friends with Megan when she joined the cheerleading team. My friendship with Conner just followed naturally after that.”

His eyes brighten, as if what you’re saying is actually interesting. “Really?”

You curl a piece of loose hair behind your ear. “Uh, yeah. What about you? How did you meet them?”

“Oh, through our families,” he supplies, a little detached, as if it weren’t really important. “Most of us met like that.”

You frown, but try to hide it behind the rim of the mug. “Wow. Then you must’ve known Megan for quite some time, then?”

His eyes flicker to your lips and his turn upwards. “Actually, I’ve probably known her for about the same amount of time as you.”

Wait. If that's true…“Does that mean you went to the Halloween disaster of 2016?” You remember Megan telling you she would be inviting her friends to the dance, and you heard that she did. Maybe he was among them?

He snorts. “Is that what they’re calling it?” You nod eagerly, hoping to hear his side of what happened that night.

“No.” You deflate, and he huffs a laugh. “I wasn’t able to go, had plans that night. Did you?”

You pout, the disappointment you felt at missing that night coming to mind. “Unfortunately, no. I was sick, but I heard from Marvin and the others that it was a night to remember.”

You don’t get to ask him more questions because as soon as you open your mouth, the front door opens to reveal a beautiful girl with dark, raven hair in delicate waves and bright blue eyes entering the room. Immediately, everyone (excluding you, Marvin and Wendy—wtf Karen?) recognizes her and greet her with a loud exclaim of her name, “Zatanna!”

Dick turns to you and you already know that he’s about to excuse himself. “Do you mind if—“

You shake your head interrupting him with, “No, no, go ahead.”

Surprisingly, he reaches for your arm and squeezes gently. “I’ll be right back.”

You blink after him and mutter, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Be right back” doesn’t happen. He stays by the pretty girl’s side, the two of them being overly familiar with one another—tight hugs, continuous small touches, long eye contact, leaning against one another. You wouldn’t be surprised if they dated at some point, to be honest; or maybe they are dating—ugh. Why does the thought of it bother you?

“You all right?” Wendy softly asks, her kind eyes full of worry and briefly moving to Karen by the entrance.

What’s that about?

You try to keep from frowning. “I think I just need some fresh air,” you assure her.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be out for a moment, besides—“ you flick your eyes to Marvin by the dessert table stuffing his face with walnut bread—“I think you’d better stay to make sure Marvin doesn’t eat all the walnut bread.”

“Oh—damn it, Marvin!” She sighs ready to chastise her boyfriend, but she pauses to look at you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You hum in agreement and watch as she saunters over to Marvin before turning on your heels and stepping out through the sliding doors leading to the balcony.

The cold winter air bites your skin, your long sleeved turtleneck not enough to combat the cold, but just thinking about going back inside makes you try to suck it up. You cover your mouth with your sleeve as you lean against the railing—Happy Harbor lights glinting brightly in the dark.

Maybe you should leave. You’ve been here a good amount of time to deem acceptable, right? You’ve met some of Megan’s friends and even talked to a few of them for a while, and you didn’t show an ounce of disgruntlement—as far as you know—so you should be good right?

An ache fills your chest, pulsing slowly as you let out a long sigh. God, what happened to you? You weren’t always like this. So closed off and unwilling to spend time with your friends. You’ve practically been unconsciously ignoring Karen and Mal, attaching yourself to Megan when she is alone, or staying with Marvin and Wendy because they act least like a couple compared to your old classmates. And the moment the one person you’ve talked to for an extended period of time at the party joins his pretty friend, you become bitter about it!

You need help.

Something heavy lands on your shoulders and back, strong cologne filling your nostrils and making you jump.

“Woah, easy, it’s just me.”

Startling blue eyes twinkle with mischief and your shoulders drop, heat combatting the cold air. “Anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?”

He just grins and settles in the space beside you, eyes sweeping over the town you grew up in. “My job kind of requires that I do.”

You slip your arms through the sleeves of his coat, ignoring the fact that it’s not exactly your size. It’s warm anyway. “Thank you.” You lean forward, tightening the coat to fit you snuggly. “What kind of job requires you to have ninja like stealth?”

He chuckles, meeting your gaze. “I’m an officer at Bludhaven PD, trying to become detective.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Bludhaven? Really?”

He hums, elbow resting on the railing and cupping his cheek.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Gotham has its norierty, but so does Bludhaven. It was basically untapped, scandals and crimes hidden behind a veil created by corrupt officials, until a couple of years ago when it all came to light with Nightwing’s arrival.

“Yeah,” he drawls, mulling it over, “but what isn’t? Anything can be dangerous if you think about it.” He leans closer to you. “Where do you work?”

“Happy Harbour Times, Opinions.”

“Then you must have to deal with a lot of angry readers when you write about something they don’t agree with, right? Threats and angry phone calls and letters. Those can be dangerous, too, right?” he asks cheekily.

You laugh, ducking your head. “I guess you’re right.” There’s still no comparing writing articles to police work, no matter how light of a situation Dick is trying to make it. “Why police work, though? It’s not many people’s first choice. Especially in Bludhaven.”

He shrugs. “Always been interested, I guess.” He leans back, hands holding onto the railing and causing his blue cable knit sweater to wrap tightly around his arm muscles. “My guardian…” Now, that’s an interesting choice of words. “He was—is a fan of mysteries.” His voice is far off, stuck in his jar of memories. “When he took me in, we’d used to solve cases together, most of them taking place in Gotham, where I was raised.” He chuckles. “And I guess from there I just… I just decided I wanted to be a cop.”

“I see... And you decided not to become a cop in Gotham?”

“Gotham has good people looking out for her already.”

“She could always use more.” He cracks a smile, blue eyes twinkling with the city lights as they find yours, and you return it shyly. “But I get it. Bludhaven has become yours, in a way. Separate from your… guardian.”

“In a way,” he repeats, and you have to look away from or else your heart will stop. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He nudged your shoulder with his. “Happy Harbour Times?”

“Ah.” Your breath comes out in a puff, the night air still growing colder by the hour, but you don’t mind it. Dick doesn’t seem to mind either. “Well, when I was a kid, my third grade teacher told my parents I was a really good writer. So, they got me into workshops and short story competitions,” you recall, remembering the constant competitions your parents would sign you up for without your knowledge sometimes. They did it with good intentions, hoping to help hone your skill, but it was too much sometimes. “Truth is, I hated it. Never really liked… fiction, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, give me a good fiction novel and I will read it for days, but… it… it just wasn’t me,” you confess locking your fingers in place.

“I was about ready to give up on writing when my tenth grade English teacher assigned us a topic to write about and I guess I fell in love with the research and being able to go out and interview people.”

“Yeah? And what was it that you wrote about?”

You bite your lip and find Dick staring at you, a curious glimmer in his eyes. “Don’t laugh?” He promises he won’t. “Robin.”

He chokes on his saliva, eyes growing in disbelief. “As in Batman’s Robin?”

You tuck strands of hair behind your ear, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yeah, um, the prompt was about vigilantes and I chose to write about him instead of the Flash, Batman, Wonder Woman and whoever else everyone wrote about.”

“Why?”

You shrug, trying your best to mask your embarrassment with a blase attitude. “Fighting crime with Batman? That was pretty cool, you know? He was living every kid’s dream.”

“Was he?” he asks, voice soft.

“He was!�� you confess, smile blooming on your face as a memory of you and your friends playing as the superhero sidekicks comes to mind. It’s some of your best memories from elementary school. “But I didn’t want to just write about the good. He was a kid seeing some fucked up shit, after all.” You pause to look at him, only to find he’s not looking at you, but at the city lights. There’s something… wistful and forlorn in those blue eyes of his, and you wonder if he’s thinking back on his time in Gotham, seeing Boy Wonder up close and personal. “Being Robin must’ve taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically.

“And I wanted to write about that. Even had my parents drive up to Gotham for the weekend so I could do some snooping, maybe even find Boy Wonder myself.”

Finally he reacts, lips twitching as he turns to look at you. “And how’d that go?”

“I learned that the citizens of Gotham really hate being asked questions.” He chuckles and you smile. “But those who did answer... you can tell they were grateful for him and worried about him. The kid really touched people’s hearts, whether they agreed with his nightly activities with Batman or not.” You tilt your head, watching his eyes light up with your words. “It’s just a shame I didn’t get to interview Robin himself.” You grab hold of the railing and lean forward. “But I’d doubt he’d have given me the time of day if I had gotten the chance to ask him. Probably too busy saving babies and punching villains with Batman.”

“I’m sure he would have made time for you.” Your fingers slip from the metal to turn to look at him, unsure of his sincerity. “How could he not?” His cheeks have become flushed with the cold, nose bright and blue eyes stark against his skin.

You smile, but you’re sure it looks more like an awkward grimace. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” He frowns, sincere eyes knocking your breath away. “I know if he knew someone as sincere as you wanted to ask him some questions for their article, he would have dropped whatever he was doing to help you.”

You don’t know why you stand there, waiting for him to laugh in your face and say his punchline. You don’t know why he just stands there and stares back at you, quiet and shining with sincerity that he’s trying to penetrate into your being. It’s weird and totally unnecessary, but maybe a part of you is desperate to know if he’s really being sincere and a part of him is desperate for you to know he is.

“Hey!” Megan’s voice break through the trance you’re both in. Her head barely poking out into the cold and green eyes narrowing. “Get in here before you both catch something!”

Dick chuckles, attention moving from her to you. “Should we head in?”

You nod mutely, smiling tight lipped.

As you follow Megan inside, the only thing on your mind is that you might have already caught something.

Bludhaven

December 15, 2020

“You’re really not coming home for the Holidays this year?”

Megan is pouting on your computer screen, but you hardly pay her any attention. You have an article on Bludhaven’s growing homelessness due in the morning and you still have some revisions to do. Your little mishap earlier today took time that you were reserving for this article and now you’re running behind.

“‘Fraid not,” you tell her, your voice accompanied by the clicking of your keyboard. “I’ve been overloaded with a ridiculous amount of work this month and I need to get it done before the end of the year.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see her scavenging through boxes of decorations. “Won’t your mom be disappointed you won’t be coming home?”

“Nope,” you pop the “p” as you rewrite a fragment. “She’s coming down to see me instead.”

She stops, head lifting like a prairie dog on alert. “So it’s just going to be you two this year?”

“Maybe. Dick said he might stop by, but he’s not sure.”

“Ooh,” her teasing rings through your quiet bedroom and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like that, Megan.” You wished it were like that, but it’s not, and maybe it’s for the best. Dick became one of your good friends since the party last year and one of your best friends after you volunteered for a transfer to Bludhaven’s Times earlier this year. You don’t want to mess with what you have, not right now when your life feels perfectly balanced.

“Don't let the person who didn't love you keep you from the person who will,” she says, sounding serious as hell and making you snort and pause in your typing. “Hey! Don’t laugh at my words of wisdom!”

“This has nothing to do with them, Megan. When I said I was finally over them, I meant it.” The moment you were able to look at an old tagged picture of you and them on their friends’ Instagram and you felt nothing, no numbness, no anger nor sadness, just a strange vagueness as if they were a stranger, you knew you were over them. “Dick and I… we like where we are.”

“Boo.”

Conner appear on screen and shakes his head as he wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t listen to her. I respect your decision.”

She rolls her eyes, playfully pushing his head out of the screen. “I respect your decision too, doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“Heckling does not equate respect, babe.”

You laugh at their antics, their displays of affections no longer bothering you. Now, when you see them you just feel happy, happy for them and for you. Bitterness long gone from your bones, and there’s one person you can thank for that.

Your phone on your desk dings.

Dick 🥳🤩: Chinese food 2nite?

You: only if you promise to get extra egg rolls

Dick 🥳🤩: Got’chu, omw.

“You’re smiling! Why are you smiling? It’s Dick, isn’t it? It’s totally Dick.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your face neutral but knowing you’re doing horribly at it. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait, is he coming over?” She gushes, and Conner is back on screen, trying to wrestle the phone out of her grip.

You laugh when you hear a curse from Conner. “I have an article to finish, Megan.”

“You can’t just leave me hanging like this—“

All right, you’ve had enough. “Bye, Megan!”

Megan🧡: 😨 You hung up on me?

Megan🧡: 😡😡

Megan🧡: Expecting deets tomorrow ❤️

You: goodnight, megan!

It doesn’t take long for Dick to arrive and for you to shove your article aside—you’re almost done with it anyway, nothing wrong with a little break.

The door jingles and as you begin to clear your coffee table—where you and Dick usually eat dinner—of your paperwork, it opens to reveal Dick still wearing his uniform. You smile up at him briefly, gathering everything and taking it over to your round, small dining table that could probably fit four people if you really tried to squeeze them in. “Hey! Let me just grab some plates and we can—“

Before you can finish your sentence, or head into the kitchen, a hand wraps around your wrist, worried crystallized blue eyes staring into you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were almost mugged?”

Ah, hell.

The crack in his voice makes your heart drop to your stomach and your eyes fall down to his ugly black shoes that you make fun of every chance you get just to hear his laugh. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Which isn’t a lie. Since you moved to Bludhaven, Dick has been checking up on you more often and even picking you up from work if he has the chance—“Bludhaven isn’t like Happy Harbor. It’s… tougher and harder,” he had said after offering to teach you some self defense moves. You had laughed and said you could handle yourself, but accepted it anyway if it meant spending more time with him.

Today was just bad luck, he was on the other side of the city and you had chosen to take the bus to work that day and hadn’t been paying attention. Next thing you know, you’re being threatened to give your purse up.

His warm fingers leave your wrist and instead they find your chin. Gingerly, he lifts your head to force you to meet his gaze. “When Rohrbach called me on my way here to check up on you because she was worried, I swear my heart almost stopped.” His eyes shine with worry and there’s a twisting in your gut. “What if Louie hadn’t been nearby, huh?”

“I’m okay, Dick,” you reassure him, wanting nothing more than to lean against him, maybe have his lips press a kiss on your forehead. “I handled him pretty well. Used those self defense moves you taught me.” It was why you were able to shake him off and run to the nearest officer for help. Dick inadvertently saved you.

He finally smiles. “Yeah, Rohrbach said you left him pretty bruised up.” His hand under your chin moves to smooth out your hair before cupping the back of your head and pressing you against him. “I need you to be more careful, sweetheart. Need you to be safe.”

Your heart bursts in your chest at the pet-name and you wrap your arms around his waist, fisting the jacket of his uniform tightly. His cologne makes you dizzy—ginger and spices for the holiday. “Only if you promise to stay safe, too.”

“I’ll do my best.” His soft lips land on your forehead briefly before he’s pulling away and you restrain yourself from chasing after him. “Let’s eat? You must be starving.”

“A little,” you admit, and let him pull you toward the couch. “Eating out of the cartons today?”

He flashes you a grin. “Why not?”

As you both settle next to each other on the floor, back being supported by your old couch and you turn on your television as he pulls out the food he bought, you can’t help but think that even if your relationship stay like this with Dick, you wouldn’t mind it.

Bludhaven

December 31, 2020

You check your watch for the umptenth time.

He’s late.

Everyone around you is celebrating, filling the bar with laughter and talk, most of it incoherent over the loud music and the inebriated state most of them are in. You’re only a few hours away from the New Year and people are already drunk out of their minds—this doesn’t spell trouble for the night whatsoever.

Dick 🥳🤩 (7)

7 outgoing calls, all unanswered and completely unlike him. Sure, sometimes he doesn’t answer your calls when he’s busy, that’s a given, but he always sends you a message if he’s going to be late or apologizes for not being able to answer your call. This just not like Dick.

You try calling one more time, covering one ear with your palm to hear the ringing, but just like before, you get sent to voicemail. Worry begins to over take your annoyance. You grab your bag and quickly make your way out of the crowded bar, not caring about the warm bodies complaining.

Driving to his place takes you about thirty minutes with traffic, and you occasionally find yourself cursing at other drivers and yourself. It’s a miracle you don’t get into an accident or pulled over. With his garage key that he gave you, you open the gate and make your way to the space that has become yours over the last couple of months with how much you visit him.

Locking your car with a simple click of the key fob, you power walk to the elevator. One last time, you try calling him, hoping he’ll answer and apologize for being late, but once again it sends you to voicemail just as the elevator doors open on his floor.

“Please be okay,” you whisper to yourself.

Taking out your copy of the key, you slowly insert it and tentatively call out to him as you open the door.

No answer.

You strain your hearing as you swear you hear some shuffling and thumping, but that noise could just be coming from down the hall. He does have some noisy neighbors.

You enter the apartment and close the door behind you. “Dick?”

There’s a crash and you jump, your heart in your throat, but the familiar string of curses eases your fear. You follow the noise and come face to face with a wide eyed Dick shirtless covered in nasty forming bruises in the middle of his bathroom.

A whimper escapes your lips and you rush forward, cupping his face in your hand. “What the hell happened to you? I thought you managed to get the night off?” You turn his head this way and that, and then push him back by grabbing his shoulder to look at his torso and back. Only letting go when he winces at a particularly hard tug. “Oh shit! I’m sorry!”

He grabs your wrists not allowing you to give him space. “You’re not blushing,” he says cheekily, his eyes twinkling even with the slowly forming bruise.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why would I be—“ Your eyes drag down to his naked torso peppered with old wounds and spanking brand new bruises and you immediately feel a wave of heat spreading through your body. “Oh.”

He laughs softly, chuckling almost, low and a sweet timbre.

But when your eyes fall lower, you’re doused in cold water, black, almost skin tight material—unitard?—and a black holster wrapped around his right leg greeting you. This isn’t his police uniform! What is he wearing? And why does it look like kevlar? “Why are you—“

You’re not allowed a moment to ask because Dick pulls you towards him with a tug of your wrists and you fall against his chest, barely bracing yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, large hands flat against your back.

“Dick?”

“I’m okay,” he murmurs airily into your hair and you don’t know what to do, you’re pretty sure he can feel and hear your pacing heart.

You repeat his name, trying to pull away from him to look into his eyes. He doesn’t let you.

He inhales. “Just give me a moment and I’ll answer any questions you might have.”

You sigh, warm air brushing against his bare skin, and the hands that braced yourself on the kitchen sink wrap around his torso loosely. “What happened?”

Circles are traced on your shirt, one hand climbing higher to cradle the back of your head. “Remember the guy who tried to rob you?” You nod and hum, remembering that crooked nosed, pale skin idiot who thought you’d be an easy target. “He escaped during transfer today with the help of some of his friends, and I went after them. Off record.”

You pull away from him and look up at him with wide eyes and slack jaw to find his serious gaze on you, lips pulled down into a thin line. “What do you mean off record?” Your throat closes and the back of your nose stings—he went after them ‘cause that man tried hurting you? “Dick, what if something happened—”

His eyes bore into you and his thumb find purchase on your face, tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “It's just a couple of scratches and bruises. I’m okay. I promise.”

You blink back your tears and lean into his touch. “You still shouldn’t have gone by yourself!”

“I didn’t,” he says softly. “I went with a friend.”

Your nose scrunches, your eyes still watery. “Rohrbach?”

He shakes his head. “No. Better, Robin.”

“Robin?” You try to remember if he’s ever mentioned anyone named Robin at the precinct, but you’re pretty sure he hasn’t—“Wait. Robin? As in Batman’s Robin?” His gaze doesn’t change, it remains serious and your heart leaps in your chest. “You really know Robin?”

He finally cracks a smile and you’re half expecting him to say he’s joking (you don’t know which is worse, him joking about knowing Robin when he’s aware how much admiration teen you had for him or finding out that he really went after that thug and his friends on his own!), but instead he answers with a simple, “Yeah.”

“Dick, if you’re—“

He chuckles, his thumb that had been tracing your cheekbone dragging down to your bottom lip, slowly tracing the swell. You would have melted if there weren’t more pressing matters at hand. “I’m not playing with you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fall to his torso and down to his pants and the hanging arms of his unitard and they snap back up, alarmed. “Are you—does this mean you’re also a—“ you can’t even form a proper sentence, the rushing of your blood flowing through your head and ears drown out your thoughts and voice.

His hands drop from your frame and you take a step back as he adjusts the unitard, slipping into it only to have you gasping at the familiar symbol on his chest—Nightwing.

Without waiting for his permission, your fingers trace the symbol, the material under your fingers soft and somehow firm. A deep ache blooms in your chest, your nose wrinkling and Dick reacts quickly, cupping your face with his now covered hands, and you’d laugh any other time at the fact that his suit is falling forward and down his arms, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself from crying.

It all makes sense now! His double shifts and all the injuries—gods. How could you have been so blind?

He rubs the corner of your eyes and coos gently, worry swimming in his eyes and honestly, that’s not fair! You’re the only one allowed to be worried right now! “Hey, hey, why are you crying, huh? What’s wrong?”

Your head falls forward and Dick leans down to press his forehead against yours. “This isn’t going to make me worry less about you, Dick.” Your fingers wrap around his thick forearms. “You promised you were going to try staying safe and this,” you pause to sigh, refusing to meet his eyes, ”this isn’t going to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the space between you. “I’m sorry I’m going to make you worry. I’m sorry I’m making you cry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you say with a sniffle, because it doesn’t. You don’t care that he didn’t tell you he was Nightwing or that he allowed you to gush about Robin when he’s always known who that is. What matters is that now you know Dick is out every night as Nightwing risking his life and you’re not happy about that. That’s what matters.

“But I won’t break my promise.” You squeeze his arm. “I promised you I would try, and ever since that night, I’ve done my best to keep to that, and I always will.” His nose bumps against yours, trying to get you to look at you and you do, suddenly aware of the lack of space between you. “I have someone to come home to now.”

Your eyebrows furrow, and your heart pounds against your rib cage. You’re no longer okay being just friends with Dick, not when he says things like that and when he’s looking at you like this either—like you’re the only thing that matters and all he wants is to keep you trapped in his arms (you wouldn’t fight him if he tried).

Before you can voice anything, coherent or incoherent, your mouth is sealed shut by a paid of chapped lips. It’s a small peck, but it’s enough to send a tumble of acrobats into a frenzy. And all you want is to feel his lips against yours again, and so you meet him halfway after a shallow collection of breath.

Lips move in tandem, heads tilting this way and that and it’s all very much like the passionate romcom movie kisses you’ve seen over the years, the kind you’d dream about every time Dick would kiss different parts of your face and never your lips. It’s all fire and sweetness, like fireworks on a hot summers’ day and watermelon juice dripping down your chin.

A loud boom echoes in the quiet night and you jerk away from Dick, eyes snapping to his bedroom entrance, the windows covered with blinds allowing the bright flashes of light to filter in.

“Did we miss the countdown?” you find yourself asking dumbly, a little breathless and mind still reeling from his intense kiss.

He presses another one to your temple, chuckling. “Does it matter?”

“It’s the New Year!”

“Could really care less,” he grumbles, voice coming from deep in his chest as his lips dragging from the corner of your eyes to your lips, pulling you away from the firework show outside. “Too busy trying to make out with my gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” you tease in between kisses.

“Mhmm, have been trying to make her mine for a couple of months now, but she’s pretty clueless. ‘S supposed to be one of the best reporters in all of the tri state area, too.”

“Should’ve said something, Dick. I’m not a mind reader.”

He chuckles, pulling away from your lips for just a moment. “There’s something else you should know.”

“What?” you ask, a little hazily.

“I was Robin.”

And before you can ask him to elaborate on that or you’re allowed to be embarrassed, he closes the distance between you once more and kisses you senseless.

To think you thought you’d regret going to Megan’s a little over a year ago; if only the you from then could see you now, happy and moved on.

#dick grayson x reader #richard dick grayson x reader #robin x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #reader insert #young justice #titans #fanfic #young justice fic #titans fic

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exosmutfactory · 5 years

Text

How I Look On You 001

Chun-hei is stuck between feeling too busy to commit and too young to settle down. And with her bustling book publisher business, bachelors and alike are all swarming around her for a chance at publicity. She’s doing a good job at keeping the men at bay—until Byun Baekhyun, that is. Doesn’t mean he’ll have it easy though.

A/N: I’m tired of this bad boy staring me down in my drafts so! Here we are. Hope you enjoy 🌹

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

The Bar

---

"He might got money, but I bet she got her own

You know she independent, when she leave here all alone

You already know, you know, you know, you know, you know

But you could still get it though

You could still get it (Uh-huh), you could still get it

Only if you wit' it though"

---

An all-nighter every now and then never hurt anybody.

I tell myself this as I let my friends drag me to the newest bar in town; ordering a round of drinks for everyone once we secure a table. Thankfully none of us plan to leave for the next 2 hours, although, as the mom friend, I keep my consumption to a minimum.

“I’m glad this new place opened up,” One friend mumbles; already halfway gone, “The last one lacked good looking men.”

“You could always go to a club, Seoyeon.” Another states.

Seoyeon scrunches her nose, “Yeah, that’s where all the hookups and spread of diseases happens, Jihun. But bars,” She emphasizes, tilting her drink towards her at a dangerous angle, “Is more…”

“Subtle?” Another supplies; tucking her short black hair behind her ear.

“Classy.” Seoyeon concludes.

I can’t help but snort. “Y’all are a trip.”

“Says the southern nun,” Seoyeon slurs, head tilting to the side. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugging I idly stir my drink, resting my chin on my palm.

“It’s been a good 6 months,” Turning to glare at Jihun, she puts her hands up in defense. “I’m your secretary and you haven’t had a “sick” day in a long ass time.”

“Why haven’t I fired you yet?” I mutter; her being quick to reply with a “You need me.”

“But seriously, Chun-hei.” I turn to my soft-spoken friend, “Are you okay? Everything alright last time you saw the gynecologist?”

“Her pussy isn’t falling off, Minji.” Seoyeon rolls her eyes, “She’d be much more uptight, trust me.”

“Wow geez, thanks doc.” My tone is dry; a grin breaking out on my face as she scowls. “Guess that cosmetology degree taught you more than the rest of us.”

“You never know,” She replies tossing her freshly dyed red hair, “Maybe you’d learn something if you left your office for once.”

“Publishing books is a long process,” Mumbling with a shake of my head I take a sip of my drink, “And you know how my workers like to slack off when I’m not around.”

“That’s what you have Jihun for,” She points to the said blonde who calmly lowers her offending finger. “Hell, I was shocked you agreed to come out here tonight...”

Not meaning to tune her out, my eyes catch sight of someone across the bar. Their purposely messy black hair complimenting their all-black outfit. A black coat with the first two buttons undone, matching jeans and a striped black and white scarf tied leisurely around their neck. Feeling eyes on him, he meets my gaze; a smirk playing at his lips.

I casually lean back in my chair; tilting my head with a single brow raised.

“Oh shit.” Jihun gasps. “Girls she’s in the zone.”

“Who? Who?” Seoyeon craned her neck around; trying to catch sight of the man.

“Yah!” Minji whisper shouts, lightly smacking the back of her head. “Leave her be, she needs this.”

Chuckling internally, I gracefully bring my glass back to my lips; looking down as if analyzing its contents before flickering my eyes back over to him. His own gaze still locked on me. Gotcha.

“Girls,” Slowly dragging my eyes over to them, I swirl my drink; crossing my fishnet-clad legs. “I think I’ll be leaving early.” Smoothly shifting my eyes back over to the man running a hand through his hair and biting on his bottom lip, I feel a familiar heat in my stomach.

Jihun whistles, shaking her head. “Good luck, girl.” Her grin mirroring my internal one as Minji gives congratulations as well. Seoyeon is busy studying her nails as I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Locking gazes with the man once again, I bite down on my bottom lip as he approaches the table with confident strides.

“Good evening ladies,” He greets in a deep voice. Just the sound alone has more heat pooling between my legs, and when his dark brown eyes meet mine, I know that tonight will be a good one.

As they reply in unison he struts his way over to my side of the table; eyes locked on my own the entire time. “You mind if I accompany your friend for the night?” He asks with a charmingly raised brow. My red lips curl into a smile, an action he’s quick to notice as he flashes his own; biting down on that admittedly sinful lip of his.

“Oh no,” Jihun waves a hand, “Please. Take her off our hands. She could use the,” She smirks, “Company.”

He chuckles politely, holding a hand out to me, “May I?”

More than happy to comply, I place my hand into his open palm; flashing a flirtatious smile, “Gladly.”

With another handsome smile of his, he firmly kisses the back of my hand and starts leading me out the bar; an action that’s more arousing than I would expect. Taking one last glance back at the girls, I send them a wide-eyed excited look as they quietly cheer.

Once out into the cool night air, I take a peek at him; he’s a good 4 inches taller than me while I'm in my one-inch combat boots.

He steps closer; the streetlight above casting an alluring glow on his handsome face as he rests his hands on my hips. His brown eyes search my own as I place my palms on his chest. He pulls me closer; lips quickly slotting over mine in a kiss.

There’s something in the way he takes his time as if savoring the feeling of my lips with every thorough smooch and bite from his own. I can’t help curling my hands in his coat the longer we stand there; the sounds of our wet kiss loud in the vacant street adding more to the heat between my legs.

With one last suck on my bottom lip, he pulls back to look me over again, “My place?”

“Yes.” I breathe; more than affected. Quivering internally at his lick of lips and devious smirk.

As he hauls us a cab, I study his side profile. Appreciating his long neck, angular jawline, soft lips, and a button nose. What a catch he is; I think with a lick of my lips.

When our ride pulls up, he opens the door, waiting for me to get in first. Once inside he rests a warm hand high on my thigh as he tells the driver the address; gently kneading and stroking me with his thumb. I’m soaked by the time we pull up to his apartment complex.

He pays before getting out; holding the door open and a hand out to me. I take it as I climb out, looking up at him again as he sends the driver on his way.

His eyes move back to me as I drag a hand down his chest; his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I never caught your name,” He mumbled with a brow raised.

For a moment, I contemplate telling him; looking over his handsome features. “Chun-hei. Or-” Grabbing him by his scarf and pressing my body to his, I smile at the way his breath hitches; peeking at him from under my lashes, “Yours.” I can't help purring, “For tonight.” A smirk plays at my lips as his eyes darken in lust; my arousal growing farther.

“Baekhyun.” He utters with another lick of his lips; resting his hand comfortably on my waist before leading me inside. My eyes sweep over the state of the building. It’s interior surprisingly spotless for this side of town; known for housing the most rambunctious college students. The elevator is in tiptop shape as well.

My eyes drift back to Baekhyun when he chuckles. I have to gulp down the urge to take him right then and there as he leaned casually against the wall. His dark eyes settled on me from under the veil of his messy hair. A smirk on his lips that I surprisingly find confident rather than cocky as we keep up the intense eye contact.

Once the elevator dings, we both look towards the opening doors. Baekhyun's hand settling back on my waist as we exit out into the hallway. The walk to his apartment is short-literally four steps away from the elevator. I find myself catching sight of his hands and damn they look eternal in proper lighting. The flexing of said hands as he opens the door increases the throb between my legs.

The layout of his place is actually cute from what I can see; a closet right across from the door as we step in. To the right of it is the rest of the apartment; a relatively nice sized kitchen that takes up the whole front wall beside the front door and a small table able to seat four people. I briefly catch a glimpse of his fully furnished living room before I’m whisked away to a door beyond his comfortable looking couch. I have to hand it to him for being able to be a gentleman until we reach his bedroom.

He locks the door and something about the resounding click fills me with even more anticipation.

“Nice place.” I look around, admiring his king-sized bed covered in a simple yet elegant black blanket; the covers perfectly made. Two fluffy white pillows adorning the top.

Baekhyun chuckles, stepping closer. “Thank you.”

We have a little staring contest; eyes locked on each other’s gaze. It goes on for longer than a minute and Baekhyun’s eyes flutter a little; wanting to close as I stay firm in my position. Until an unsuspected hand wraps around my waist and pulls me against him; his erection prominent on my stomach. I gulp, blinking automatically. Baekhyun flashes a grin before his lips are once again meeting mine.

We walk to the bed, my knees soon hitting the back of it. Before Baekhyun can think to lay me down, I quickly spin us around; pushing the wide-eyed man onto the mattress. He looks up at me; gaping a bit as I pulled off my crop top, keeping my skin tight mesh shirt on. “Sorry.” I smile down at him, gracefully climbing into his lap, “I prefer to be on…” My eyes drag up his body from his obvious bulge to his alluring eyes, “Top.”

Baekhyun visibly gulps, nodding as he rests his hands on my hips.

My smile turns into a smirk as I settle my hips on his; near chuckling at the way his breath hitches. I can’t help sliding my hand down his chest, teasingly tugging open a button on his coat, “May I?”

Baekhyun nods, watching me undo each button at a slow pace. By the time I reach the last one, he is covered in a thin layer of sweat as my hungry eyes take in the sight of his hot body. “Wow,” I utter, lifting up a bit to pull off my mesh top as well. Internally giggling at how his eyes widen even more at the discovery of me not wearing a bra.

Slowly grinding on his lap, I trail a finger down his neck, “Mmm. You are quite handsome, Baekhyun.” I relish in the way his cheeks redden at the compliment; feeling his arousal twitch. Chuckling, I decide to put him out of his misery and smash my lips back to his; moving to unzip his pants.

Baekhyun groans, head falling back when I add a bit of pressure, “Chun-hei.”

My own breath hitches; lip between my teeth as I watch him. It takes both our efforts to get his tight jeans off. I quickly pull down his boxers, nearly gasping as I take in the sight of his cock. It's not the biggest I've seen, but its girth…. Fuck me.

I pump him a few times; he’s so hard and leaking so much my palm easily slides over his throbbing cock as I hum deeply at his little gasps and quiet moans. The more noises he makes the more my arousal grows.

Not able to take anymore, I lift my skirt and pull my g-string to the side; smirking at the dazed look on his face, “Condom?”

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, eyes falling shut when I rotate my wrist, “T-Top drawer.”

Humming in approval I walk over to his nightstand; purposely bending over as I retrieve a silver packet. Coming back to him, I carefully rip it open with my teeth; taking my time in putting it on him. With his cock safely wrapped, I start to slide down on him, then think otherwise, grinding on him instead.

“Chun-hei.” He sighs, biting back a whimper when I grind hard in response. “Chun-hei, fuck. Please.”

Chuckling although a bit breathless, I press his cock to my wet entrance; slowly sliding down onto him. I bite my cheek hard to contain my own whimper; lightly scratching at his shoulders from the stretch. “Damn you are thick Baek.” I hiss, moaning loud when he unexpectedly jerks his hips. He sends me a sheepish look when I glare at him.

“S-Sorry,” His eyes flutter shut as I lift up to the tip then slide back down onto him again; taking him deeper every time. By the third time, my hips are pressed firmly to his. I rock back and forth, swirling my hips at random intervals just to hear the noises he makes. His voice growing louder as I quicken my pace.

“Chun-hei.” He breathes, sliding a hand down to my clit.

I jump a bit at the contact with a gasp, “F-Fuck.” My eyes fall shut as he speeds up, his hard thrusts from below bringing me closer to cumming, “Baekhyun.”

He groans loud in reply, pounding me harder as I fall over the edge, “Fuck. Yes, Chun-hei.” He breathes, fingers not leaving my clit as I squirm above him, “Come for me.”

Moaning loud as all my muscles tense up, I continue slamming myself down on his cock; thighs shaking from all the pleasure as I feel him throbbing inside my clenching walls. “Come on, Baekhyun.” I purr, egging him on. “Give it to me.” Leaning close, I rub my hand down his chest, lightly sucking on his earlobe, “If you’re good, I might let you come in my mouth next time.”

“Christ.” He hisses, slamming up deep into my tightening walls and filling the condom with a loud groan.

Chuckling, I wait a few moments before sliding off his member with ease. “You’re so hot,” Trailing my eyes all over his naked form; chiseled, heaving chest and a long bared neck, I lick my lips; touching his heated skin. “I’d love to go another round.”

“What’s stopping you?” He mumbles sleepily, running a hand through his messy hair; eyes glazed over in post-orgasm bliss.

“Oh, nothing,” I bite back a smirk at the way his throat bobs when I caress his thigh, sliding my hand back up his body, “Just don’t want to wear you out. I don’t know if your stamina is par with mine.”

Baekhyun lifts his head and his hands are on my hips at once, grip tight as if preparing to flip me over until he stops, taking a good look at me. “I can go all night.” He declares.

“No, no,” I shake my head, gently patting his hip and moving to get off his lap, “It's alright, I should get going.” Pretending to search for my crop top around the room, I continue, “Don’t want to disturb your beauty rest.”

A low growl comes from the man under me before he grabs my wrist, pulling my clothed body flush to his naked one as he regards me with dark eyes blazing in lust. “Want to bet?”

Smirking, I press my chest to his, growing excited at the telltale sign of him hardening against my thigh. “Bring it on, Baek.” I purr before my lips are taken again.

Two rounds later and he’s sleeping like a babe; pouty pink lips slightly parted on every exhale and eyelashes brushing the top of his glowing cheeks. He’s sleeping without a care in the world and it takes everything in me not to giggle at the sight.

I’ve just reached out a hand to smooth down his unruly hair when a low buzz fills the room. I freeze, glancing over the bed to find my phone lighting up on the floor. Carefully lowering myself off the bed to pick it up, I swear under my breath. Jihun. Calling to probably make sure I’m okay. Quickly grabbing my disregarded crop top, I slip it on and pad out of the room on light feet, swiping to answer with a perfectly manicured finger, “Hello?”

“Chunhei!” Her voice has risen an octave higher than usual, “Are you okay? Why are you whispering?”

Taking one last glance at the sleeping man, I grab my forgotten heels by the door and gently close it behind me. “Sorry, I’m still at Baekhyun’s place.”

“Baekhyun?” I navigate my way to the front door, pulling my heels back on with a low hiss. “You haven’t left yet? It’s 3 am.”

Remembering the slight wobble to my legs, I blush. “I’m leaving now, don’t worry.” Slowly registering her words, I straighten up. “I’m not coming into work tomorrow.”

“I figured as much.” She pauses, the sound of juggling keys loudly ringing into the phone. “Want me to come get you?”

“Please,” I whisper, giving the address and waiting for her to arrive.

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#baekhyun smut #I dont know how to tag this tbh #should have thought of this sooner XD #baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fluff

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