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maruyaaya · 3 months ago

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hihi ime (if u dont mind me calling u that) but once again i need ur help, so as you can i am making a fanfic in modern au (kinda filipino highschool love vibes) andndndnd i need your opinions on the characters from greek myth i will using (writing)

the character includes

neoptolemus telemachus peisistratus orestes nuisicaa electra iphigenia hermione nicostratus

andand if yk ppl from greek myth that like in the afterwar of trojan war plsplspls tell me so i can add them :3333 should i add the gods also? (also can i add on how would you think writing them i mean the other characters esp the women?) btw, im making this fanfic fluff and cheesy (NO ANGST!! i have enough of them) thank you mwamwamwaps

HELLOO!!! i absolutely do not mind you calling me ime!! my name is very difficult to pronounce for english speakers so i basically go by every variation of it ever LOL anyways i digress

so surprisingly enough, i actually haven't reread the odyssey in a very long time (i'm an iliad girlie at heart i'd sleep with that thing under my pillow like alexander the great) but, to nobody's surprise, i have a lot to say so i'm going to do my best!!

THIS IS A BANGER CAST THO the dynamics between them will be so fun thats so exciting. i love that its kinda a "younger gen" bc so often you see a focus on the achilles/odysseus/agamemnon generation and a lot of the children get ignored so this is really fun!!

maybe im dumb and stupid but i think youre asking abt how i write those characters so ill yap about that and if thats not what youre asking then idk me and my iliterate ass will just go fuck myself i guess? LMFAO i have written so many essays in the past week april is the worst month of the year i'm so dumb right now

neoptolemus is so... ugh i did not care for him at all until i started writing senses and then suddenly he became one of my favourites. neo is typically written as very abrasive with a short-fuse. he's very arrogant in his abilities, but like achilles, that arrogance is earned as he's written as a very good fighter. i think he should be written as very emotionally stunted—he doesn't understand other people's emotions but he also doesn't understand his own. this could be hilarious to me in a modern au because that man just does not understand anything that anyone says to him. he should have a resting bitch face. he always looks angry and he probably is angry. his self-esteem should be crazy wacky like he should be constantly telling people "i am the best and you are nothing compared to me" but at the same time, he should be constantly afraid of disappointing people. neo's characterization is really interesting bc most of the myths portray him as being needlessly brutal, but then you have ones by sophocles or euripides who portray him as actually having a lot of remorse for what he does and only does them because he thinks he has to. i think you could have a lot of fun deciding which of these characterizations you want to lean into.

telemachus is, to put it in the simplest words possible, a brat. he's very pessimistic and he's convinced everything sucks. basically in a modern au, he is your typical 16 year old going through an emo phase. i like to write him as very emotionally intelligent. he knows exactly what to say to piss someone off and he won't hesitate to do so. his favourite hobby is pushing at people's insecurities and seeing how they react. he also has a temper and he's very emotionally driven though i do think he's better at regulating his emotions than neo is. he's also very insecure. he is constantly afraid that he isn't good enough and i think that's very clear in his actions. he loves being annoying he's my fav brat and his words shoot to kill when he's mad (taylor swift reference even tho he would lowkey fucking hate taylor swift)

peisistratus is gay as hell (he and telemachus canonically share a bed in the odyssey btw). telemachus canonically refers to him as "joy of my heart" like i am so glad i'm a multishipper bc i could not come out of the odyssey and not ship telemachus and peisistratus. peisistratus has a fairly small role in the odyssey so you have a lot of free reign in how you want to characterize him (i'll be honest, i'm not 100% sure what fandom characterization of peisistratus is bc i've never been too into the telepeisi ship). in the odyssey, he's very well-spoken and eloquent. i like to think of him as kinda being impulse control for telemachus—he's better at controlling his emotions and not flying off the handle like telemachus does. he's also very horrendously down bad for telemachus. that cannot be ignored. he wants to hit so bad. he will laugh at so many bad jokes just to get a chance to hit.

orestes is so interesting to me! i think he's very logical and serious. i think he has a strong moral compass and gets very conflicted about whether he should stick to his moral compass or be loyal to the people around him. like after clytemnestra kills agamemnon, orestes doesn't want to kill his mother, but he does because he feels obligated to out of a sense of justice. he sees it as an act of loyalty to his father and the gods. and after killing his mother, orestes basically goes insane because he has so much guilt about it. i think he definitely does value justice. he wants to do what he thinks is right and he is willing to sacrifice himself for that . he's a very conflicted person. personality wise, i do like to think of him as relatively serious and not someone who flys off the handle or gets angry easily. i think he definitely thinks with his head, not his heart.

if you do want to include another character, there's pylades, who is orestes' cousin (and also rumoured lover (as is ancient greece) they could be written just as cousins tho or as romantic lol up to u. i’m pretty sure there’s some myths where they’re romantic where they aren’t even cousins at all and they’re just friends so u can do whatever u want really). when orestes can't decide whether or not he should kill clytemnestra, it's pylades who convinces him to go through with his plan. i kinda view pylades as being the impulsive side of orestes. they play off each other and where orestes is careful and logical, pylades is the guy who goes "fuck it we ball". orestes and pylades can have such a fun friendship. their relationship is very pylades: i'm gonna cut the sleeves off all of my shirts iphigenia: why? pylades: orestes isn't here and he's like 95% of my impulse control

(also btw orestes and pylades is where the “i’ll take care of you” “it’s rotten work” “not to me. not if it’s you” quote comes from so yeah. homosexual)

NAUSICAA MY BELOVED <3 some myths have her marrying telemachus after the events of the odyssey. she's extremely kind and compassionate. i like to think of her as being very trusting and like, she would give her life for anyone. she's definitely fairly emotionally mature, but i really like to think of her as kinda a hopeless romantic. she loves romance novels and daydreaming. however, this is not to say that she's naive bc i think the odyssey portrays her as pretty much the opposite of that. she's very aware of societal expectations and such and she knows how to carry herself in a way that ensures people will think of her positively. she's socially aware and intelligent. despite her hopeless romanticism, i think she's also pretty good at reading people and i like her and telemachus having that in common. they're both very good at reading each other. i think nausicaa's compassion and kindness should be some of her main traits when writing her. she should always be thinking about helping others out of the genuine goodness of her heart. i actually think in a modern au i would love to write telemachus and nausicaa having embarrassing puppy love crushes on each other like theyre so cute

ELECTRA IS SO INTRIGUING i'm honestly very attached to the electra, orestes, iphigenia sibling trio theyre so cute and tragic to me. as an interlude, i recommend the book clytemnestra by costanza casati! its a retelling of clytemnestra's myths and though the book has its flaws, i really love the way casati writes the dynamics between clytemnestra and her children. def worth reading it's very very good.

anyway electra is so <3 to me. she's one of my fav mythology figures. i think that she, orestes, and iphigenia should all be very close as siblings. that's what makes their myths all the more tragic. like not a day goes by that i don't think of the orestes: how could you recognize me after all these years? electra: what a stupid question. i was born knowing you exchange like oh my god it makes me sick. i think electra should be very emotional and that should be a point of conflict between her and orestes. orestes thinks things through logically, but electra follows her heart for better or for worse. electra feels things very intensely. she wants vengeance. she gets consumed by her grief and rage. i think of her as someone who very badly wants to understand the world. she wants to know everything. she wants to understand why she feels things so deeply. i'm very influenced by the way casati writes electra in her novel, but i love seeing electra portrayed as someone who is a little unsettling. like you look at her and you cant really tell what's going on in her head. there's a quote from casati's clytemnestra that says "sometimes electra says things that make [clytemnestra] suffer, and she wonders if her daughter does it on purpose. it seems unlikely, but a thought creeps through her mind, making her restless: what if electra can be as unkind as her father? what if she is not quiet because she is shy but because she is crafty?" and later in the novel, electra tells clytemnestra "broken people fascinate me". i love electra being portrayed as someone who is a little shy and quiet, but it's because she is feeling all these emotions so vividly and passionately and she doesn't know what to do with them all. and she wants to understand the world because she thinks it will help her understand herself. she can be purposefully cruel if she thinks it will aid her

on the contrary, i like writing iphigenia as someone who is very bubbly and outspoken. i like her as being very optimistic and likeable. she's charming and you can't help but fawn over her when you meet her. she and electra act as foils in this way in my head bc iphigenia is someone that you can't help but love while electra is someone who is very difficult to love (i say this in very simple words). i think iphigenia is very compassionate and also feels emotions deeply, but in a different way than electra does. iphigenia, i think, is very empathetic and likes to help people. i think she is objectively, the kindest and most likeable of her siblings which is what makes her sacrifice even more tragic. but i really do like writing iphigenia and electra as the extrovert/introvert duo. i think the orestes/iphigenia/electra trio is so fun to write because they all have such complex issues and i have so many thoughts on them. in a modern au, iphigenia is probably the popular girl of the school, but the popular girl who is actually really nice and everyone loves her. like she's head cheerleader, but she's also saying hello to everyone in the hallways and all the teachers love her and it leaves electra in her shadow a little bit. ugh i could talk abt electra, orestes, & iphigenia for so long theyre so <3 to me

hermione! i think you have to give hermione mommy issues. it would be really fun to explore how hermione is affected by having the most beautiful woman in the world as her mom and how it felt to have her mom leave her (or kidnapped depending on interpretation) when she was just 9 or so. i really like to write hermione and orestes' relationship as one based on love. i think they really do love each other and it's why orestes fights neo for hermione. i think hermione can def be entitled and a lot of it stems from her parents (her mother is literally helen of sparta like cmon now i don't blame her). hermione can be jealous and i love to write that as coming from insecurity—hermione grew up with the most beautiful woman ever as her mom. her self-esteem has to be insane like no wonder she's jealous; she probably thinks she can never live up to her mother. i think hermione probably lashes out emotionally because of that jealousy. a lot of her characterization has to stem from her circumstances—she's used as a political pawn for most of her life and that def affects the way she views herself. she needs so much therapy. if anyone has seen saiki k, i actually think of teruhashi a little bit when i think of hermione. hermione is definitely her mother's daughter and i see has as very similar to helen. i think hermione is definitely someone who acts as if she is much more confident than she really is—it's kind of a mask. you guys know the song oh no! by marina? the line that says "cause i feel like i'm the worst so i always act like i'm the best" that's so hermione to me.

now, i won't lie to you, i don't know much about nicostratus. i don't think there's many famous myths on him at all iirc? or at least, i can't think of any off the top of my head. i think he's probably a character you can have fun with it and shape how you like. you can def give him the same kind of parental angst from helen and menelaus that hermione has and giving hermione a sibling dynamic is so funny. but yeah, i don't know much about him so i'm not going to just lie to you and make stuff up LMFAO

as for other characters, clytemnestra has a few other kids you could include though they're not as interesting as the main 3 to me. there's also pylades that i mentioned earlier. there's polyxena too! she might be a bit older as she's a daughter of priam, but she is the youngest one. off the top of my head, i think she's described as being 18 in the final year of the war? this would make her a couple years older than neo who is typically between the ages of 12-15 in the final year of the war. so she could be included albeit she is slightly older (she was promised to achilles tho so again, she might be too old for the story you want to write). on a similar vein, there's cassandra and helenus who are in a weird age range of likely being younger than the achilles generation, but quite a bit older than the neo/telemachus generation. i love cassandra sm tho (i named my dnd oc after her LMAO) she's one of my favs ever. those two could be included if you want, but are older than polyxena who is already older than neo so idk if that's too much of an age range for what you want.

okay so as for the gods, one thing i really like doing is that in modern aus where they go to school, i love writing the gods as their teachers LMFAO. idk if that's what you wanna do, but i think it's so funny. like can you imagine poseidon being your gym teacher. or athena teaching you math or something??? it's hilarious. so that is definitely an idea

ALSO LOVE THAT THIS WILL BE FLUFFY AND CHEESY too much angst in this fandom LMFAO (i say, as i write my mcd neomachus fic)

I HOPE THIS HELPS i think this answer might be even longer than the last ask you sent which is genuinely a feat. oh my god i fear i have mental problems. VERY EXCITED TO SEE WHATEVER YOU WRITE <3

#ALSO SO SORRY FOR ANSWERING THIS SO LATE #ive been so busy this week has been awful #MY LAST DAY OF CLASSES TODAY #after next week i'll have finished all my final essays #and i'll finally be free #i think it's really funny that you can clearly tell which characters i care about more in this answer #i wrote so much introspection on electra and then for peisistratus i just said “idk he's gay?”#LMFAOO #sorry i love women so much more than men :/#also i did not read any of this over this is all just the direct thoughts from me head #so forgive me if there are any monumental grammar or spelling mistakes #or even things that just don't make sense bc my mind works in fascinating ways #imeda answers asks!!

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itsmistyeyedbi · 5 months ago

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I've seen a handful of posts about the different ways an a/n/detective romance could go down, and would like to throw my hat in the ring (with Zuri of course).

It seems like I'm sharing some braincells with people lol, because this post by @fauville and especially this post by @sewellsheart (I hope you guys don't mind me tagging you, if you do just let me know and I'll remove it) are both pretty close (or exactly spot on) to the thoughts I had earlier this week. It's also sorta kinda includes @wayhavenots headcanon of N being demiromantic.

(Also tagging @serenpedac because you mentioned that you'd like me to when I got around to posting this)

When I answered this ask with questions from the lovey dovey oc development prompts list, I mentioned that although Zuri finds aspects of each member of Unit Bravo attractive when she first meets them, Nate is who catches her eye the most. He's the closest to her type - Zuri flirts with him in book 1 regardless of the route she's in lol.

Considering the vampire senses, and the fact that sometimes Zuri wasn't being all that subtle lol, he knows this. And he flirts back too; there's some aesthetic attraction there (maybe I'm biased, but methinks Zuri is very nice to look at lol), but before much/any sexual attraction can come in Zuri’s attention pivots to Adam. I've mentioned before that she is drawn to emotionally unavailable people - but especially when they let a feeling or two slip, when she gets to see the asshole be more than an asshole lol. And Adam doesn't seem to be as indifferent to her as he was before. Quite the opposite actually.

It's no skin off Nate's back. As nice as it was, there wasn't any romantic feelings there, and it would probably be wise to not pursue something with her. Zuri is his handler's daughter, and having any potential relationship they have end the way his previous relationships did could have complicated his relationship with both of them. Besides, they aren't staying in Wayhaven for long anyway (ha!).

So it's no skin off his back. Really. Truly. Except watching Adam's growing interest in her makes envy rear it's ugly head. It's a familiar sight, one that has been directed at him throughout the 300 years of him knowing Adam. As he became his friend and his confidant, as trust and loyalty grew between them - little, stolen moments dotted the fabric of their friendship. For the first time in more years than he could reasonably keep count of, the desire for the romance he read in books and poetry blossomed into a love for Adam. To have him, body and heart and soul - and to give his own to him. From the moment he realised those feelings, he wanted to throw himself headfirst into love, into a relationship, with the man who knew and accepted every part of him.

But Adam couldn't bring himself to do the same. It was too risky, too dangerous. It would create a weakness in him that would lead to Nate's destruction. And Nate - kind, gentle, beautiful, Nate - doesn't deserve that. And Adam doesn't deserve him. So their feelings are restricted to those stolen moments, to the brief meeting of their eyes, to lingering touches. And if they trip and stumble and fall into each other's arms in the dead of night, they will return to the status-quo by morning. With there being a little more distance, a little more hurt in Nate's eyes and guilt in Adam's heart until the pain subsides. Until they fall again. They've been falling for centuries.

As much as it hurts, Nate won't push him. He understands his reservations and his concerns, how much the life he left behind still haunts him. His own haunts him as well, of course he understands. Even though he longs for the ghosts of their past to no longer hold them back.

And that interest in Zuri...it means something. But Nate finds a little bit of selfish comfort in the fact that they will continue on with their lives when the mission is complete. They will go on, with Zuri having breathed new life into his team, his family, with her acceptance and excitement, her brightness and her resilience - with her humanity.

Except... they are staying in Wayhaven. They have a home there, and Zuri will be working with them as a human liaison. He's delighted! Wayhaven is a small, charming town full of good people who should be protected. Meeting and getting to know Zuri has been wonderful and friendly, and he's looking forward to learning more about her. But that means she and Adam can continue to develop a relationship, and he has to watch as she slowly slips past his defences.

As painful as it is to watch him fall in love with another, he ultimately wants to see Adam happy, and perhaps Zuri is the person who he will find that with. She is lovely, after all. She was determined to help the people of her home when the maalused arrived and made people ill, human and supernatural alike. She was quick to protect Adam from being infected as well. She was curious, always eager to learn more about the world she'd been thrust into. She was charming and cheeky and kind, subtly coming to his defence with a smile and a wink when she met Unit Alpha while remaining friendly and gaining their favour (this is from the dialogue option where the detective can go: "just so you know, I like museums too." the smiling and winking there is Zuri specific, so not in the actual text).

They slowly grew closer, toeing the line of crossing into the deep, dark waters of their past. And the closer they become, the more it stings to see watch the tentative hope build up inside her. To then see the flash of pain in Zuri’s eyes when Adam pulls away, the guilt in his eyes when she stitches on a smile, the resignation in both of them that Nate knows all too well. She eventually starts turning to him for comfort, whether it's in the form of a distraction or advice. When she does, she's nervous and can barely meet his eye, hugging herself tight as though to keep herself from falling apart. Being vulnerable like this with someone is the last thing Zuri wants to do, but everything is eating away at her, and she just needs... something. Someone. Some way to come up for air.

The reasons are more complicated than Nate initially thought. It turns out that Zuri is just as conflicted about their connection as Adam is, with her keeping him at arms length as well as his interest evolved into longing. Into something she she can just barely recognise, something that scares her. Something she doesn't think she deserves. It gets easier to talk to Nate, just a little. Just enough for him to feel like a soft place to land, safe and warm as he allows her to curl into his side - although she catches the gleam of envy or jealousy or both.

Nate is doing his best to conceal it, but he can't help how he feels. The thing is... he isn't quite sure where it's coming from anymore, and a rare but familiar feeling stirs in his chest. And Zuri looks so comfortable buried against his side, hiding away from the world while allowing him to see the parts of her that are sharp as shards of glass, beautiful when they catch the light. And when he manages to make her smile, to make her laugh, his heart skips a beat and all he wants to do is drink in the sight of her in all her beauty...

Then he thinks of Adam, and all the times he melted at his dimpled smile and soft gaze, the times he got drunk on the sight of him standing by his side, laying underneath him...

Oh. Oh no.

Eventually, Nate does speak to Adam. I'm not entirely confident in my thoughts on how this would go down, but I don't think he would pretend that his feelings weren't there or hurt. I think Nate would tell him that his feelings for him haven't changed, but he ultimately wants him to be happy and that he might find that happiness with Zuri (there might be a little bit of awkwardness here considering his developing feelings for her). But he'd also let him know that what he's doing is only hurting her; she may not be completely innocent here, Nate knows that Adam is hurting as well and Zuri can be just as wishy washy, but all of this should let him know that pushing away the people who care about him achieves nothing. It only cause pain all around, and Adam needs to decide on whether that is or isn't something he's willing to keep doing.

This is where the the poly can come in (finally, I know). There's two possible routes for this.

1. Nate and Zuri develop feelings for each other, but remain friends while her relationship with Adam progresses and they eventually get together. Adam ends up having a general idea of their feelings for each other, based on their physical reactions more than anything. So, after a long, long, long while, Zuri and Adam talk about Nate and their not so previous feelings for him (I can see Adam talking about Nate also having feelings for Zuri like it's the most obvious thing in the world, while she's in complete disbelief lmao). They'd have a long talk about what that could mean for them, and once they determine that they still want to stay together, Zuri proposes that they talk to Nate about him possibly joining them.

I can't imagine what that would be like for Nate. Maybe it would be a little confusing. Maybe it would feel unreal that two of the people he cares for the most, the people he is in love with, love him as well. And after what could be years of him watching them together, on the outside looking in, wondering if he'd ever be able to share in their love, or if the bittersweet feelings in his chest would be his burden to carry for eternity - something he was willing to do if it meant they both got to be happy.

It would probably take a while for Nate to get comfortable, he's already not so secure in relationships. And Adam, despite him knowing Nate and their history together, would probably have to adjust to accepting his feelings for him after repressing them for so long. That he doesn't have to hide them anymore. Zuri would definitely have to take the lead here, even though she'd be just as nervous. Two amazing people being in love with her? The thought of driving them away would be in the forefront of her mind sometimes.

2. Nate and Zuri develop feelings for each other, and he tells her about his feelings for Adam. She'd be a little surprised at first before having an "Oh, so that's why xyz etc" moment lol. She'd be really curious about his feelings and if they were ever returned, considering their centuries long friendship. Nate would be surprised by how well Zuri takes it, and they highkey end up bonding over the mess that is their feelings for Adam and their love lives in general (this may be when Zuri picks up on him possibly being demiromantic). They keep getting closer and closer, with Nate being more vulnerable with her as well. Both of them would kinda enjoy how freeing it is to speak with someone about all of it (they might even be able to awkwardly admit how envious they were of the other lol). But their feelings do continue to grow in the process, and the tension builds - and when their longing for Adam is particularly difficult to bear, they seek each other out and end up finding comfort in a completely different way.

It wouldn't be completely out of place considering N's past of seeking out connection and occasionally doing it through sex. Zuri would for sure do something like this, which I think is a little obvious from this post I made a while back - but she has done the whole 'hook up to forget' thing before.

Except this time, it's different. It's not just them seeking out connection or trying to forget their reality, it's also them wanting to lose themselves in each other - the person who understands them, that they've been able to be vulnerable with in a way they couldn't be with anyone else. Someone who they're (mostly) on the same page with, someone they care for deeply, someone they can share this desperate, heartwrenching, deep-seated longing with in the most passionate and carnal and unrestrained way possible. Until they can't think. Until they can't speak. Until the feel of each other's skin is all that exists.

This second one would obviously be a lot more complicated than the first, especially if/when Adam finds out. My head is empty when it comes to how they'd progress from here, unless we really went with the 'stuck in the safe house' option lol.

I delve into how Zuri would get involved in a polyamorous relationship in this ask that I think contextualises her perspective a little more.

But, yeah! Those are most of my thoughts!

#my brain has become mush writing this all out it's so long #and it isnt even with all the thoughts i had💀#one of them being how much harder this hits knowing how similar zuri and nate are #and how if all the events of the books are being considered...#zuri would be able to recognise that kiss with adam at the end of book 3 - a stolen moment with someone he doesn't think he deserves #the same shit he did with nate💀#idk if i could ever write a full on fic if this - idk if i could pull it off #maybe just little moments here and there #also zuri and nate's pillow talk will sometimes be them talking about adam lmao #will zuri get a little envious of their centuries long history - even if it was on a purely platonic way? yes #will nate know this? at some point yes - and that's if she hides it well enough for him to not just sense it #anyway here it is at last!#please forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes - i've been writing this for hours lmaoo #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc detective #a du mortain #adam du mortain #n sewell #nate sewell #oc: zuri jackson #adam x nate x detective #adam x nate x zuri

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estatica-mente · 2 months ago

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Chapters: 134/134 Fandom: World of Warcraft Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Mathias Shaw/Edwin VanCleef, Baros Alexston & Edwin VanCleef Characters: Mathias Shaw, Edwin VanCleef, Pathonia Shaw, Baros Alexston, The whole Stonemasons' Guild, Stormwind's Assassins Guild, Original Characters, Characters are going to be updated, Khadgar (Warcraft), Bazil Thredd, Onyxia (Warcraft) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Class Issues, Class Differences, Communism, Friends to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, Childhood Friends to Lovers, VanShaw - Freeform, Pre-Third War (Warcraft), Abusive Parents, Grooming, longfic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Labour, Not Beta Read, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Implied Sexual Content, soft nsfw, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Light BDSM, NSFW is in chapter 91, There is also some in chapter 80, the longer I write the hornier I become, The Author Regrets Nothing, Miscommunication, NSFW in chapter 109, Powerbottom Mathias is a thing I enjoy sometimes, NSFW in chapter 117, Rope Bondage Summary:

Mathias Shaw is young. He's not even fifteen, but he already had enough time to get to know and understand death better than many adults. He's also an Assassin, even when he is still considered too young to take on his first contract: his fate was set years ago and he believed himself to be ready for it no matter what it took.

Edwin VanCleef is also young and his hands are cold, but he had to learn as fast as he could. After all, all he wanted was to be a Stonemason.

Neither of them had been ready for the war, nor leaving their home behind, nor the uncertainty that took their lives and fates.

They also weren't ready to find the other among their own hopelessness.

I JUST REALIZED I NEVER POSTED THAT I FINISHED TRANSLATING ALL OF THAT YEARS AGO????

#Edwin VanCleef #Mathias Shaw #VanShaw #My Fic #Pre Defias Era #My writting #This is archivelocked in AO3 for a reason and you all know why #Anyway yeah the were young and unaware #The VanShaw no one asked for #I was also young and unaware so forgive any of my numerous translation mistakes and bad grammar I guess

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fowlblue · 2 years ago

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I haven’t shared much about Valentine here, and since I wanna post about my wicked man more, have a little bit of lore:

So, to first give a (simplified) rundown of Jon and Valentine’s history, Valentine met Jon in (approximately) the late 80s/early 90s when he first began becoming interested in tech- how he came to acquire Phonetix is a story for another day, but they got along well to begin with and hung out a lot. Valentine had very limited knowledge about the general matters of being a CEO, and Jon usually had advice, or was at least someone Valentine could shit-talk to. Over time, things went in a certain direction and while it was never said to be a ‘relationship’ in the partnership sense, whether it was or not depends on who you ask. It was by no means a healthy one, though- things soured quickly when Jon caught on that Valentine saw the two of them together mostly as a means to merge Phonetix and FC together. After this, things became a lot more hostile and at times violent, the two started hating each other, and that’s where things spiralled to where they are now (occasionally meeting up but mostly trying to kill each other).

Now, a part of their dynamic I haven’t really touched on much is that a large part of their relationship centered around drugs. A very large part of it. I HC Spiro has a long history of drug use given that he was a rich businessman at that time, for a lot of reasons, though by the time he appears in TEC he’s been clean for a bit. Valentine is very much a drugs guy, he takes a lot of them and a lot of his illegal undertakings involve transporting/possession of/distribution of all sorts of illicit substances to other celebrities/high-ranking criminals.

During the ‘better’ days of their dynamic, a lot of their meetings involved him securing drugs for Jon (including prescription meds that he was now off of but had become hooked on) and often taking drugs together. He encouraged him to do so despite knowing that Jon wanted to go clean- this happened a lot during business meetings between them, even, and during a lot of their worse arguments. Jon as a result has very patchy memory of that time period and those meetings, and in the present day often wonders if what he took is exactly what he ordered, because sometimes decisions were made at the time that he wouldn’t have made otherwise, and Val seemed a lot more persuasive. Trying to find loopholes in legal matters/illegal dealings is a lot more difficult when you don’t remember signing them in the first place.

(Valentine did, in fact, take advantage of being his supplier + Jon’s bad memory to manipulate his perception of certain events, both business-wise and personal. “Did I say that? Oh, certainly not, you’re just crazy” kinda stuff.)

And, see, what Jon does remember is ‘being told he was crazy’ part. That’s part of why (in hc) he went so ballistic in TEC- because being gaslit like that (even though Artemis had good reason to, mind) reminds him of that situation and it drives him mad. A lot of his time post-TEC is spent grappling with whether or not his mind is something he can still trust at all, and it’s infuriating.

#this was originally a discord post so forgive any grammar mistakes but. Val lore.#oc: Valentine #yeah Val was originally just gonna be a tech guy but working with illegal drugs is just… very fitting for his character.#tw drugs #tw drug use

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ssaseaprince · 2 years ago

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Do you ever write something and just stare at it like 🤨 because you can tell something is off with the grammar, but you can't for the life of you tell what it is

#ive been told by friends that my grammar is horrific #which i didnt think it was that bad but then i started actually paying attention and now i agrre #anyways so forgive any grammar mistakes please #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfiction writers #writers

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gomzdrawfr · 7 months ago

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The night was quiet as the Captain stepped out into the open air, fresh out from a mission, the sharp chill of the morning bit at his skin but he hardly noticed due to the exhaustion. The sky was dark, save for the faint halo of the light from the idling helicopter in the distance, painting the floor and wall in hues of turquoise.

There he was, Nikolai.

He leaned casually against the aircraft, a cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers, one foot propped, his broad shoulders relaxed. His jacket was unzipped just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of his chest and all the hairy goodness beneath.

Even from a distance, Price could see the way Nik’s eyes were fixed on him.

Always waiting. Always there. Always steadfast. Just like he always had been.

The first few snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, mixing with the faint fog of Nikolai’s breath curling in the air and the smoke from his cigarette. Nik looked hot—there was no other word for it.

Okay, maybe there were few more words to describe the love of his life, but John couldn’t give a single bollock digging through the dictionary now. Not when Nik was standing there with his arms crossed, black hair slicked back yet slightly tousled. He looked like he belonged on the cover of one of those old male model magazines he’d been caught sneaking glances at in secret.

Something giddy and nearly childish bubbled in John’s chest, like spotting a bright candy from afar, something precious you’ve waited for your entire life. Before he knew it, he began walking. Boots crunched against the concrete beneath each step as his hands moved almost automatically, shrugging his helmet off, letting it fall to the ground with no care as his walk turned into a small jog, then a run.

His goal was clear: to kiss his hot pilot husband.

By the time he reached Nik, his breath was shallow and his chest was heaving with something that wasn’t exertion, excitement maybe, but he stopped just short, his gaze lifting to meet Nik’s.

Price paused, just for a second. He always did, right? Even after all this time, after a hundred kisses and then some, Price always had that fleeting moment of hesitation. A combination of gratitude, love and guilt stirred inside his chest. Nik had always waited, even now, through all the years it took John to come around, to gently removing and breaking down his defenses brick by brick, until he’d finally admitted what they both knew was inevitable.

But tonight, John thought it wasn’t the nerves holding him back.

It was the way Nik was looking at him, staring at him like he was the centre of the universe, with those dark eyes softened and the corner of his eyes crinkled with adoration. The kind of look that had John’s knees buckled, the kind of look that screamed worship, that he was enough, that he was loved for exactly who he was.

For Nik, he was roaming his eyes around John, observing the way the snowflakes gathered around John’s hair, blending with the white strands already there, the way they aligned and caught in the faint light made it shimmer like constellations, presenting John- his husband, in an otherworldly look. It was as if every star and planet had aligned to bring the John Price here, shaped from stardust gathered from the debris of the abyss and sent John crashing into his heart like a meteor.

If Nikolai too, could see himself as one of the stars in a galaxy of thousands, colliding with John to create the brightest supernova, perhaps then, he could erase the darker thoughts that lingered behind his love.

Nikolai had always thought himself akin to the black hole, pulling everything he loved into himself, consuming it with a selfish, unrelenting hunger. It was, and still is, a daily struggle to fight the unforgiving part of himself that believed he wasn’t worthy of Price.

Nik leaned down slightly, nudging his nose against John’s, hearing the faint hitch in John’s breath, the reaction that always pulled a smile to his lips. The way Nik moved his nose to John’s cheek was slow and intimate, pressing lightly into the softness of the skin. Even as Nikolai can feel the way John breathed him in, the faint tang of ash and smoke with a mix of engine oil, the smell that reminded John something of warmth, of home, Nikolai still couldn’t quite shake off the pang of guilt.

Nikolai wanted John wholly, completely, all of him, and that weight of need and want felt almost cruel. To love someone so much that it physically hurt, to want someone to the point of selfishness–it was hauntingly beautiful and unbearable at the same time.

“Kissing under the first snow of the year,” Nik murmured, the cigarette between his fingers sizzled and forgotten, his voice rough with affection and a hint of the usual tease, batting off the uneasiness of his heart with humor, “like boys in a love story…звезда моя”. John huffed, rolling his eyes as his cheeks burned, a cute shade of red dusting his skin like apples. Nik almost cooed when the snowflake landed on his cheek melted away instantly, the heat of his embarrassment clear as day.

John didn’t bother responding, wanted to kiss Nik stupid as he leaned forward. Yet, as their lips were barely brushing and their eyes closed, the moment dissolved into something softer. Their breaths mingled, warm against their cold skin, and when they finally closed the distance–the kiss was slow and tender, like they were learning how to kiss all over again, and their worries faded away like the snow melting on the ground.

Nik kissed the same way he loved, completely, boundlessly, consuming, and John allowed himself to be swallowed whole, to be taken completely by the gravity of Nik’s affection.

Because if there was any man that John would start a war for–even a cosmic one at that, it would always be him, and only him, his Nikolai.

When they finally pulled back, with more snowflakes gathered around their head and their foreheads pressed together. Nik breathed out a quiet chuckle, “you’re blushing, John.”

John groaned, shaking his head, voice low yet filled with fondness. “Cheeky as ever, Nik.”

Merry Christmas Nekros!! I hope you like this lil present I wrote based on the breathtaking art :D special thanks to my friends and @karlachismylife for the help and inspiration :) ho ho ho to the nikprice community too!!

Returning from an op and immediately running to kiss your hot pilot husband under the first snow of the year 🌨️��

#shaking as I schedule this #HAHA #im so sorry for the small bits of angst in there i couldn't help myself with these two....pain is wovened into their very beings #i decided to take a twist to focus the yearning and the pain that comes with loving someone whole on Nikolai this time #was this bcuz of Father's hypothermia fic yes maybe KAJSHDK and also how I saw you relate to Nik most time #forgive me for any grammar or mistakes there #can you tell I love stars? and space? I do - i love them a lot esp seeing the way your art reminds me of them #despite its about snow #my fav part of writing this was looking at your art on my other tab to solidify the vibes #you know what was my fav? the way you drew Nik's nose squishing gently into Price's cheek #which was something Ive missed on my first reblog #and I knew I had to put that in the writing somewhere and make it meaningful #bcuz every stroke every line and every painting/art you do are meaningful in their own ways - even if you struggle to like them #there was a line for the nose thing that I couldn't wedge it in so here's the sentence #Nik pressed into his skin with a heavy feeling in his chest that felt like worship - like he was allowing himself to grace upon smtg sacred #The softness of John was a privilege granted to no one else but him - and he wondered again how he could dare to claim something-#so achingly tender - precious - soft all to himself and how John became so vulnerable and unyielding under his hands despite everything #*slams fist on the table repeatedly* Nik ya dumb fUCK HE'S YOUR HUSBAND STOP DOUBTING YA PRETTY LIL HEAD #anyways #!!! love u bud !!! cant wait for this post to go live and read your reaction hehe #also isn't it crazy this whole thing could've just been a few mins thing but it felt like it was more of that?#love makes time freeze on its spot #merry christmas #nikprice #prikolai #captain john price #nikolai cod #captain price #john price #gummmythoughts

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backinmyphase · 7 months ago

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Are we still friends? - G. S.

Synopsis: There were many times your friendship with Satoru was hanging on a tight string. You had always worked through it. But this time was different. Even if you loved Satoru... - It would be hard to forgive.

wc. 11.2k (I'm sorry :'))

Content warnings: Satoru is a bit of an ass, leaving someone alone in an unsafe environment, SFW, mention of alcohol, Angst, Angst MUCH Angst, comfort to the end, year long pining, Satoru is an idiot and I mean an IDIOT

A/n: Happy birthday Satoru Gojo, my dumb idiot <333 (I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar errors. I also want to thank everyone who said they wanted a whole part of this drabble, I'm happy for every comment)

Fall 2005

"Why are you avoiding me?"

You finally got him alone, without all his new friends surrounding him and making you feel small. Right here behind the sport gym of this old place you had to call your school. Finally you had a moment alone, to talk to him, after days of silence between you. Finally you could get this weird tension out of the way that had infested itself since the beginning of the school year.

After all it was just Satoru, right?

Just Satoru, who rolled his eyes, while turning his head away. "I'm not."

"Stop lying, you are." You followed his gaze, trying to read his expression. But there was no need for that, since he snapped his head back to you after you spoke, looking at you with that terrible expression which hid nothing.

"Oh my god, just because I am not running after you every day, does it mean I'm avoiding you!" He groaned, a hand in his hair making it messy.

"Jeez, you are so clingy."

You stared at him. Blinked to see if you just imagined that. Blinked again. Nothing changed. "Excuse me?"

He didn't say anything now, which only made your anger grow. "I'm trying to make sense out of your childish actions, Satoru! You are the one who just stopped talking to me, leaving me alone in English, even though we have a project together. And now don't tell me that's not avoidance!"

You were breathing heavily, while glaring at him but he only scoffed with a smile on his face, a smile you didn't know.

"Oh please, if you need help and attention that bad run after your little boyfriend!"

"What?" your voice rose a whole octave. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, Rayo or Ruya, whatever." he waved with his hand, pronouncing every letter of the name with almost disgust.

"Ryu? He is my partner for a physics project, for God's sake!" While shaking your head out of shock, you couldn't help but huff. Of all people, Satoru should know.

"Please." He chuckled with such a cold tone. You have never heard such a tone fron him. "Everyone knows you two are hooking up."

"What?" everything seemed to stop. Slowly you searched his gaze, but Satoru looked away.

"Who says that?"

You have never seen him acting that way. So detached. Why didn't he even look at you? Where was the Satoru who watched sad romance movies with you? Where was the honest Satoru?

Where was your best friend? Where was the Satoru you... Knew?

"Satoru, who is talking about me?"

He kept his head low, but you could still see a small glint of guilt in his eyes.

"Is it your friends?"

Something inside you was panicking at his lack of answer. At the lack of denial. What was also said about you? What did he gossip with them about?

"About what are they talking?"

You could see him gulp. But he still didn't say anything. Why wasn't he saying anything? If he let them talk about you, he at least had to tell you what it was about. Especially since he knew.

You had talked with him about your fear of high school and the way people gossiped and the rumors which ruined the reputation one had to uphold.

You had talked with him about trying to keep your head low.

"Satoru, what are they saying about me?" You couldn't help it, your voice rose.

And then he just started moving. Just walking slowly away. Didn't even look at you before. He could talk with these people about you but couldn't look into your face?

"Satoru if you just walk away now, I swear I will never talk to you again."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Satoru -"

"God, can you shut up?"

It was an ugly scream. But not as ugly as the expression he gave you as he finally looked at you. That was a look of disgust. And with an awfully calm voice he added;

"You are so noisy."

You blinked at him. One time. Two times.

That was not your best friend. That was a boy who was hiding whatever distain he had towards you for years. Years you thought he was the only person who understood you.

People change. People fall out.

"Forget it, Gojo."

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Fall 2009

"You are avoiding Satoru."

It's like being pushed into cold water in warm clothes.

The stirring of the kettle is the only sound in the kitchen, helping to keep the awkwardness away. Shoko sat at the kitchen table with a glass of juice, her look remaining on your back, as you made yourself tea.

"I'm not."

Only after the kettle rang you allowed yourself to move again. Carefully, you took the kettle, pouring yourself the hot water into your cup with the teabag.

"You are." She took a sip.

You watched as the water changed its color to light brown.

"He is worried, you know?" you heard the shaking of her head. "Can't stop pestering me."

You couldn't help but scoff as you turned around to her, hot teacup in your hands. You placed it down gently and took a seat opposite of her. "Of course he is."

She was staring at you with that stare you knew. The stare which was contemplating what to do and what to say. You stirred your tea with a small spoon and placed the used teabag on a small tissue. The tea was still way too hot. But you still took a sip.

It burned.

"What did he do?"

You looked at her face. Her eyes were gentle and for the first time since a while she wasn't just Satoru's good friend, she was your roommate. Your friend.

You couldn't help but smile. Even if it didn't reach your eyes.

"What did he tell you?"

And that's when you saw it. Her eyes twitching, glancing at her phone on the side of the table. Just that small glance was enough. You knew. Knew, he had made her start talking to you. Knew, he wanted her to push you to answer. Knew, of course, he sent his friends to ask you, instead of just leaving you alone.

"Just that you are mad at him for no reason again. His words not mine."

Satoru Gojo was such an asshole.

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

"Sooooo... she didn't tell you anything?"

Satoru would be lying if he said he didn't wait the whole day to meet up with his friends. He had waited in the cafe for roughly an hour now, even though it wasn't the discussed time. But he just couldn't keep waiting. Waiting to get any possible news, any updates of what you could have said. Especially from Shoko.

But she just rolled her eyes at him.

"No Satoru, you should probably know what you did. If she is that mad at you, it's probably something big."

He shook his head, trying to think of anything he did that could've pissed you of. He glanced down at his hot chocolate - his third since he got here - and wondered why you just wouldn't tell him what he did.

After all, communication is key in a friendship, right?

Suguru shook his head at him. "Since when is she avoiding you?"

"Since 9 days." There was no need for math, Satoru had counted down the days since you wouldn't even glance at him, when he tried to talk to you. How you just walked past him in your own apartment, when he met up with Shoko and Geto. How you locked yourself in your room.

"I don't get why she is acting so childish now." he mumbled to himself.

No nod, no wave, no glance. It was crazy. It was dumb. It was just like five years ago when he was the one who shut you out of his life.

The loud sound of Suguru sipping his tea snapped him out of his thoughts. Suguru placed his teacup down on the table and tilted his head.

"Didn't you go out together nine days ago? That Friday?"

There was a beat of silence in the room. Only the sound of the coffee machine in the background and the new customers ordering. Satoru blinked at his friends. One time. Two times.

"We did?"

Geto and Shoko shared a look. "Oh Satoru..."

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

You couldn't help but groan when you woke up. Your body seemed so heavy as you stood up, like every morning. Well every one since that one.

You glanced around your room, feeling horrible as you saw the dirty dishes you used yesterday. But you just didn't want to eat anywhere else anymore. You didn't continue talking with Shoko yesterday, for all means you started to avoid her too.

You knew, to all your friends you seemed unreasonable. You didn't go out, didn't leave your room and of course ignored Satoru. You worked on your psychology major online, the professors also accepting your work. Overall you tried to avoid any contact with your friends.

Because you just had realized; all of them were also Satoru's friends.

And who of them would put you before him? Before the golden boy Satoru Gojo? The boy who you had held so dearly to your heart.

Too dearly.

Your phone went off, making you sit up. It was already 8 am. You had to go to work or else your boss would be mad.

With one push you got out of bed, making yourself ready. Your phone lit up again. The last days you had started to ignore it. But still you took it everywhere you went.

You tiptoed your way into the kitchen, hoping to avoid running into Shoko. And you sighed relieved, - lucky you - she seemed to still be asleep. No used glasses or dishes. Just you and your kettle.

A coffee machine was too expensive so tea had to hold up.

While the kettle was working, you made yourself a slice of bread, with butter and cheese. Tea and bread, the breakfast of the winners. You took your first sip out of your teacup, sighing at the hot feeling, which warmed you. It was starting to get really cold, you needed the warmth.

It was mornings like these, which made you like fall.

The walk to your workplace was beautiful, the trees all in different colors, painting a picture worth of drawing. But unfortunately you were no artist. You were just a college student working as a part time barista. So you had to hurry up, to please your manager.

The woman wasn't happy with you, since you took the last couple days off. You knew it was hard in this environment, since it sorely relied on the broke students nearby, which were as employees really unreliable. Or at least that was what she was always complaining about.

But you needed the break, or you would have come to work with tear streaks on your cheeks.

You opened the door to the small coffee shop, met by the annoyed look of your manager. She stood at the counter with her arms crossed, her face only lighting up by a small bit as she saw you.

"There you are! Hurry up, we open in 10 minutes. So change into uniform!" she went into the backrooms, her voice echoing in the room. "Hurry, I said!"

You couldn't help but sigh, as you retreated into the small changing room.

There was something so heavy, when you started dressing in the apron. An uncomfortable feeling, a feeling telling you you are sick and should head home. But you had to pay to have a home.

You made your way back to the counter, leaning on it, while hoping there wouldn't be as many customers as usual.

You turned around to look at the menu and you were surprised, there were a couple of new additions on it. Macchiato and Flat white, which you have never made before. You hoped it could just be made by the expensive coffee machine next to the menu.

There were also new teas added to the menu. Lemon and Mint were new kinds, but personally you wouldn't drink them.

A ring behind you startled you. Great. You glanced at the clock next to the big menu. 9:05. Insane people.

You kept your look on the coffee machine, searching for the buttons you will have to use, trying to calm yourself that it was only one person. Even if their steps to the counter were very determined, surely they were just a normal person, wanting a normal coffee? Not a big order, you had to triple take to get right, surely?

You turned around. "Good morning, how can I -"

You stopped as you saw the white hair.

There he stood, leaning forward on the counter, white hair standing a bit up and those ocean eyes staring up at you.

" - help you."

That's why you needed a break. Because he knew where you worked. And you knew he would show up, distracting you, making you furious with just his smug face.

"You haven't answered my texts."

While squinting your eyes, you said again with a firmer voice; "How can I help you?"

He frowned, taking his arms off the counter while standing up straight again. But as he studied your expression, he seemed to get what you wanted to get across. He sighed.

"A hot chocolate please."

You nodded, while pretending to type things into the Cash register to keep your eyes down. Avoiding his piercing look.

"Here or take out?"

"Here. I will sit over there." he pointed at the small table, which was probably the nearest to the counter, making your inner self groan, which was hoping he would just get his drink and leave. But no, this was Satoru and of course he had to pester you even here.

"Alright, take a seat, your drink will be there in a second."

You waited for him to go to his table, but he didn't. No, he just stood there before you, like he was waiting for something.

You went over to the machine and started working it, but he still just stared at you. Making no effort to sit down. Even the sound of the machine pouring milk into the cup didn't fill the awkward silence.

"Is there something else you need?"

You could hear him clearing his throat. "You weren't here the last days."

And you were? Well good, you took the last days off. You took the finished cup of hot sweet delicious browness and placed it on the counter in front of him, while still not looking at him. "No, I wasn't. Is that all?"

He continued to stare at you. You were watching his hands, which were slowly engulfing the hot cup, while he still looked at you. You waited for him to finally go to his seat. He didn't. "Why won't you tell me what I did?"

"Is that all?" you raised your voice, leaning a bit back and turning your head a bit so you could glance at the back rooms. "If so, please let me work in peace."

"It was that Friday night, right?" he was whispering. "What did I do? What did we do?"

You froze. There was something so surreal of him asking what he did wrong. Like that was a reasonable question. Like you were mad for a small forgettable reason, something one could just forget about.

Like someone one could just forget about.

"Is there an issue here?" the head of your manager popped out of the backrooms, staring at the two of you. Well, at least someone listened to what you were saying.

"Not at all." you looked up and smiled at Satoru. "The young man here was just about to sit down at his table."

"Right?"

His face hardened at your words. But with a lot of self control, he also formed a smile, while starting to move. "Yeah, was just having a lovely chat with the barista about the new menu."

Your boss nodded and went back into the back rooms while Satoru finally sat down at the table. Your rapid heart beat, which you hadn't even noticed slowed down by the larger distance between you and him than just the small counter.

But there was still the tension between you, since no one else was in the shop, just you, him and your annoyed boss.

And his gaze was locked onto you while he drank his hot chocolate. Why was it so hard to avoid his piercing eyes? They were like magnets you really wouldn't want to be hung up on because just one look and a panic inside you rose, making you want to lock yourself up in the bathroom. And even though he had his laptop set up before him, he didn't spare it a glance.

Why did Gojo Satoru have such a presence?

You glanced at the clock. 9:36.

Would he stay here for the next 6 hours of your work? No, that would only one insane person do. Right? You dropped your gaze on the cashier register. Why couldn't you just be left alone?

God you needed a break.

A ring of the door made you look up again and you saw a soaked Utahime coming through the door, cursing at her broken Umbrella. Huh, you didn't even notice it had started to rain outside. Even though now, the sound of the water falling against the windows seemed so loud.

"Of course it starts, when I try to get to work..." Utahime muttered while placing her umbrella near the entrance. But her face lit up when she saw you.

"Oh, thank god you are back, it was hell without you! I had to deal with -" But as she looked at you her gaze dropped to Satoru, who was now really interested in his laptop.

"Oh. You are also here Gojo." Her face changed into a frown, while she walked close to the counter. She looked at you with a grimace. "What a surprise."

Satoru just huffed, but kept his gaze on his laptop. "Always a pleasant one, Utahime."

"Utahime?" The voice of your boss was coming from the back rooms, now louder than before, in the tone which meant trouble. "Get here immediately!"

Utahime looked at you and rolled her eyes, making a couple of gestures to illude to throwing up. But her voice was still kept professional. "Coming!"

"Someone is in trouble..." Satoru was grinning to himself while he typed something into his program. Utahime just scoffed while she went to the back rooms door.

"Well, I am not the only one, am I Gojo?"

Oh god, he didn't like that, you could see it in his falling grin. And while Utahime disappeared into the back rooms, you hoped he wouldn't open his mouth. But of course your hopes were for nothing.

He stood up and went to the counter with his now empty cup. Placing it with a bit of force on the counter. "Okay, I get it you know. I fucked up."

"But you could at least give me a chance to talk it out."

Just one look at his oh so deep eyes, made you avert your eyes to his cup. His words making you feel alone, exposed and so so uncomfortable. "Do you want to order more?"

He groaned and his hands found their way into his hair. "Please, drop it and just talk to me! You are making such a big deal -"

"Are you even listening to yourself?" your voice was much quieter now, barely a whisper. "You are already belittling me even though you don't know what my problem is. You already assume it's something small and stupid."

You looked up at his dumbfounded face. He blinked at you. You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. "This whole time you are talking about making things right and that you need to talk to me, but not once have you thought about giving me space this last week!"

You pointed at the small room around the two of you. "I mean you are even now here, at my workplace!"

His voice was filled with uncertainty now. "Yeah, because you wouldn't talk to me or Shoko -"

"Which should be sign enough to leave me alone, Satoru. How would you say it?" A small scoff left your lips. "I think 'Stop, being so clingy?'"

A silence filled the room. The quiet talking of Utahime and your manager could be heard, but the words to unclear to understand. Satoru held his head low now, almost averting your gaze.

"But-" your voice was shaking and you wanted to hit yourself for it. "If you want so desperately to know what I am mad about, I guess I can freshen up your memory."

Still silent. You guessed you should keep going. "Last Friday, we went to that club, you wanted to show me, you remember?"

"The one where you ditched me for all these other people?"

You looked down at the cashier register and hoped hoped you could hide the vulnerability in your voice. The room was completely silent. The only sound the falling raindrops against the window.

Until he laughed.

The sound of the little chuckles made something inside of you turn, you felt like throwing up. You looked up at him to see a relieved face. A. relieved. One.

"What are you laughing about." it was hard to speak while your teeth were pressed together with more force you had ever used.

Satoru stopped but the little smile remained. Your hand was itching at that smile.

"Sorry, sorry." he cleared his throat. "But I mean we can spend more time together, if you want that? I mean you still mean much more to me than thes-"

"Satoru." you raised your hand signaling him to stop speaking. "Why do you think I was avoiding you?"

"I - I don't really get...?" he was stopping mid his sentence, now looking confused. "You know it's okay if you were jealous, I never meant to make you -"

"JEALOUS?" You gripped the counter so hard, your fingers were turning white. "You think my problem is jealousy?"

He shut his mouth, blinking so clueless like again. It was exhausting.

"No, Satoru, my problem is not that I was jealous you spend time with other people." you gritted out, while typing in his hot chocolate, to distract your hand before you were hitting him. "My problem is that you abandoned me. Alone in a club, I didn't know."

"You left me drunk and clueless alone at a club with no one I knew. Miles away from my apartment. Left me to ask strangers where my ride was, while they pitied me, because the great Gojo Satoru had already left."

You dared to look up into his eyes, hoping he could finally see your mental state. Finally getting why you were so petty. Making such a big deal.

"That's why I am mad."

His look turned wide and blank. You couldn't keep looking at it and broke the eye contact. He didn't move, just stood there before you. But you could see his hands gripping the cup, he was holding.

Just as you saw him open his mouth again, Utahime came back, now with her uniform on. She had a blank smile on her face and a sharp glare on Satoru. "Do you want to order? I can take yours."

He gaped a bit at that but his face quickly turned stoic. "No, thank you. I was just about to pay and leave."

You nodded took the cup he was just holding on. It was warm. "That will be $4.30."

With a bit of force he pressed a $5 dollar bill on the counter and turned to his seat. While grabbing his things, you could see his eyes focusing on the floor. And you knew there was no reason, but you felt bad. Something about this felt like it was your fault. Like you were overreacting. Even though it was just how you felt.

The door shut softly behind him. He disappeared just as fast as he had appeared.

"Thank you." You whispered to Utahime, and she smiled at you gently.

Truth be told, you wouldn't call her a close friend. You just knew her through Shoko, since she was your roommate and Utahime was a couple of times over. Thus you knew her still over Satoru.

But she did help you get this job and was always a pleasant coworker.

"No problem. You want to share it over a cup of coffee?" she winked at you while leaning on the counter.

"Are you working over there?" the voice of your boss echoed through the room. "Get to work!"

Utahime rolled her eyes. She spoke now in a careful whisper. "I guess after work?"

Well, it wouldn't hurt to have a person who wasn't so close with Satoru, would it?

"I would like that."

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Spring 1995

"Come on sweetie, say hello to Satoru."

You held onto the leg of your mother as you stared at this strange boy. There was something ominous about his eyes and his white hair. You had never seen someone like him before. And he had that intimidating look...

"Hi."

Your mother placed a hand on top of your head, laughing a bit as you tightened your grip on her. "Good job. Now go play with him, while we make the cake ready, okay?"

You looked up to her and nodded. She smiled back and gave you a small nod, signaling you to let her leg go. With a heavy heart you let her go into the kitchen with the other woman, who she called Mrs. Gojo.

You looked back at the boy, who was still staring at you with those intimidating eyes. Why did your mother bring you with her again? She said something along the lines, it would be important to fit into the new neighborhood and greet them properly. But right now?

You just stood there awkwardly, trying to understand this strange boy.

He would probably never speak to you, you just hoped the time would pass as quickly as possible. You wanted to eat the cake Mrs. Gojo made as a welcoming gift...

He opened his mouth and closed it again. His eyes now focused onto the ground before he started to speak;

"Do you like Digimon??"

He looked at you with big eyes, which suddenly didn't seem intimidating at all. He fidgeted with his hands, while tilting his head.

"I guess... But I don't know much about it."

His eyes lit up and he smiled so excitedly. "That's not a problem! I can show you!"

And just like that he took your hands, pulling you with him into his room. The room was big, much bigger than your own. There were a couple of posters, of what you guessed were some mons, you didn't know.

He let go off your hand to pull out a big box. And when he opened it, there were a couple of cards inside, which you had never seen before.

"What are these?"

"I will tell you, just sit down." he let himself fall down next to the box, now going through the cards. He took a couple of them out and looked at them each individually.

You carefully sat down, while watching him. His big blue eyes had an excited glint in them and his white hair was shining under the light.

Satoru Gojo was a strange neighbor...

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Fall 2009

"And he just left you alone at this club?" Utahime frowned, while placing her cup of coffee down. "And he forgot about it?"

You shrugged, glancing outside the window. It had stopped to rain in the afternoon. You were free now, since your and Utahime's shift had ended and you were glad Satoru didn't come back.

"I guess he did."

She shook her head and scoffed. "And now he comes to your doorstep-"

"Well actually, it is not mine but the coffee shops-"

"-asking why you are ignoring him? The nerve!"

A loud sip later she continued; "Gojo has to be humbled, my god!"

You couldn't help but smile at her antics. It was kinda sweet how she got so worked up over your business. You were glad she wasn't just on his side. You watched her sip again and sighed. "If it wasn't for that guy who drove me home, who would guess what could've happened?"

She huffed.

"If I'm being honest I would reflect upon the whole friendship. It just shows how self absorbed he is."

You sipped on your bitter coffee.

"Yeah, well he is still Satoru."

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Summer 2003

"Wait for me outside later, okay?"

You smiled as you read the note Satoru had left on your windowsill. There was just such a feeling of excitement every time you read one of his notes, it made your heart race and your face hot.

That was normal right?

"Mum!" you ran into the living room, hoping to catch her before she went to get groceries. "Did you get me the kimono for the festival??"

She way already ready to leave as she sighed at your question. "Yes, sweetie I did. And I also told you that yesterday."

"Can you help me lat-"

"Yes, I will help you get it on, now shoo." she laughed and pointed towards the kitchen. "Young madam, you can worry about the firework after you did the dishes!"

You gasped as you remembered the mountain of dirty dishes you had to clean before the evening and started rushing towards the kitchen. "Already on it Mum!"

You heard her laugh as the door shut behind her leaving you alone. You let the water run into the sink, while organizing the dishes. You took a sponge and started cleaning the plates, which never seemed to end.

Oh, how excited you were for later! It was your first real festival here and Satoru had promised to show you around. And there would be fireworks, now; in summer! Your first own kimono, and your first time visiting a festival you would spend with a friend.

You placed the finished plates next to the sink, taking a towel to dry them. After you finished them, you sat down before the TV and watched what was on.

You didn't even notice how fast the time passed, til you heard the door click from the keys from your mother. You looked at the clock to see it was already 18:30 and shrieked.

"Mum, mum, can you help me now!! Pleaseee?" You jumped out of your seat on the couch and sprinted towards her, looking at her with the eyes you put on when you begged for something.

"Yeah, you can go into my room while I organize the groceries, okay? The kimono is in the closet." she took of her jacket while smiling at you exhausted.

"Okay!" and just like that you turned around and ran into the small room of your mother.

Her closet was always something magical, if it were the high heel or the jewelry you tried to put on while she was away. Your heart was beating fast as you opened it slowly. As you saw it you gasped.

The kimono dress was so pretty. Almost to pretty. You gently took it between your fingers, gasping at the soft fabric. You liked it. You really did. But...

Was it maybe to pretty for you? To fancy?

"Alright, sweetheart." your mother clapped one time as she stepped in, a soft smile on her face. "Let's make you ready, okay?"

"Yeah.." you took a look in the mirror on the cupboard of your mother and tried to imagine, just imagine, what Satoru would say if you were completely overdressed. You tried to shake it off, trying to get as excited as before, but you just couldn't. The excitement gave a bit of space away for the growing doubt and fear.

Maybe you should play sick...

"Alright, firstly try to put the under dress on and i will help you with putting the kimono dress over and so on." she chuckled and took the kimono out of your hands, eyeing it. She placed it onto her bed gently and went up to the door again. "I will go outside while you change. Just call me when you need help."

"Okay."

You sighed as she closed door, eying the under dress you had picked out. But even though you didn't feel comfortable anymore and the ball of doubt in your stomach was eating you up, you still took of the other clothes and slipped into the under dress.

You didn't like how it fit you anymore. Your stomach hurt. Why did it suddenly hurt?

"Everything alright, sweetie?" the voice of your mother was filled with a slight tone of concern.

"Yeah, you can come in." you glanced at the pretty kimono dress on the bed and feared how it would look on you.

"Okaaay-" she stepped back in and smiled as she saw you. "Perfect! Then let me put the kimono dress on."

She helped you into the kimono dress, watched as the ends of the dress fell onto the ground. Focused, she took the ends and checked something before she tightened it.

"What are you doing, mum?"

"Hace to check if it is above your ankles. It shouldn't touch the ground while tightened." she stood up and patted your dress a bit down. "It's supposed to be a bit big up here."

Her concentrated face was a sight to see, while she adjusted how the dress was sitting. She took a step back and gently placed the obi on the rope which was tightening the kimono. After it was sitting she took a step back again and whistled. "Such a pretty lady!"

The dress was comfortable, even if you felt a bit out of place in it.

"Soooo-" your mother turned you to the mirror, making you sit down on the bed. "Now your hair."

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Fall 2009

You threw your bag onto the wardrobe as soon as you stepped into your apartment, groaning from exhaustion.

"Someone's grumpy." a playful laugh rang softly. Shoko poked her head out of the kitchen watching you take your jacket and shoes off.

"You could've warned me that he will visit my workplace, you know?" you grumbled while pushing softly past her to get into kitchen. She huffed with a small smile on her face.

"I would've, if you talked to me."

"God, I need a hot tea..." you shook your head while turning on the kettle. "It's raining cats and dogs outside. And of course it only started again, after I left the shop."

Shoko chuckled a bit, now making her way over to the fridge. "I wanted to make noodles today, do you want to eat with me?"

The kettle rang again, making a smile steal its way onto your face. "If you have enough for two?" You poured yourself a cup of tea, the water changing its color to light red.

Today you chose fruit tea.

"Yeah, don't worry." she opened the fridge and took her orange juice out of it. "Just missed eating and talking with you."

You took a sip out of your tea and sighed at the heavenly warmth flooding you shortly after.

"You're not going to talk about Satoru, are you?" you turned around to her, to see her sigh as she closed the fridge.

"Only if you want to." She took a glass and poured herself orange juice into it. "But I don't need to. I mean, if I'm being honest, it wasn't the nicest thing of me to pressure you to into talking about it."

She sipped a bit, smiling a reminiscing smile. "Was just worried about you and him, since he was constantly texting and venting to me about his worries."

"Oh."

You sat down at the table, cup of tea in your hand and just warmed yourself. Shoko sat down at the opposite side, tilting her head a bit. "Utahime texted me a couple minutes ago. Asked if you made it home safely."

You couldn't help but smile at that. "Greet her from me and you can reassure her that I made it."

Shoko nodded and started typing on her phone. A couple of seconds later she began to smile at her phone and looked up at you. "Hey, Utahime and I wanted to meet up here tomorrow to watch some movies. You wanna join?"

"Yeah, sure." you watched as she typed a new message and hit send.

"Great!" Shoko rested her head on her left hand, while she held her phone in the other. "Oh, and I can give you her number if you want to? She told me that you had a lovely conversation."

You laughed a bit before pulling your phone out. "I would love to have her number." And just after a couple of minutes you had Utahime's contact and a meet up tomorrow.

"Alright." Shoko put her phone away and stood up, making her way over to the stove. "Enough with that, the noodles don't make themselves!"

You watched as she cooked, a comfortable silence making it's way into the room. Something inside you had changed after you had spoken with Utahime. Something inside you was happy. Happy you weren't alone in your frustration and anger towards Satoru. That your feelings were valid.

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Summer 2003

You waited a long time.

You stood alone before the entrance of the festival, waiting for Satoru just like he had asked you to. People were going by, most of them older than you. Some of them stopped to ask you if you were okay, only leaving if you reassured them you were alright.

You felt anxious like never before. Satoru was late.

"Hey, are you okay?" a boy probably in your age stopped by, just like the people before him.

"Yeah, I'm just waiting." you smiled at him, trying to convince him, but he frowned.

"For what?"

"My friend." you muttered, trying to keep your calm. You didn't want to think about what your long wait could mean.

"But I have seen you standing here an hour ago, are you sure your friend is still coming? If they aren't and you keep waiting, you will miss the fun." the boy pouted.

You watched the next people going by, a couple walking by while holding hands. You heard some whispers about the fireworks and you couldn't help it, tears were starting to build up.

You knew it was dumb. But today you had wanted to say it. You had wanted to say it to him during the fireworks. You had wanted that, but he seemed to have forgotten you were waiting for him...

"I've to go, my parents are calling for me." the boy looked behind him, before he turned to you again. "Try to enjoy your stay here, okay?"

Then he just ran away.

Just like that you were standing there alone again. You felt so stupid for getting dressed up, to care so much about this. Why did you care so much?

And even though you didn't feel like it, you followed the boys advice and walked into the festival.

The stands looked fun and they had cool prices. You saw an older guy win a plushy for his friend, shoetly after placing a small kiss on his cheek. You looked away shortly, feeling like a creep for watching them.

And even though it all looked fun, it didn't feel like it when you were walking here alone.

"Hey, do you want a candy apple?" A woman called out behind a stand, smiling at you.

"Oh, no thank you, I don't have that much money." you apologized but she shook her head, waving fo you to get closer. So you did slip through the people in your way to the stand.

"Don't worry, it's on the house." she winked as she gave you one candy apple.

With a bit of hesitation you took it from her. But you weren't hungry, so you just kept it in your hand while continuing to walk.

And after a long walk you finally reached the watch place of the fireworks. It was under a hill, there were already many people, sitting and talking with each other. And after you saw that you couldn't keep the tears in.

You cried hot tears, because you felt so stupid.

While sitting down on a bench on top of the hill, you gripped your candy apple. The ugly sobbing just didn't stop, didn't matter how much you tried to stiffle it. Oh god, why couldn't you stop-

"Hey." His voice startled you. But even though it was loud because of the people you knew it was Satoru who spoke from behind you.

"Please don't cry." he walked up next to you, sitting down next to you onto the bench. But you couldn't look at him. Not when you still had tears in your eyes.

"You are late." your voice was hoarse, god it was so embarrassing.

He was silent for a couple of seconds. Then he spoke;

"I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to get you flowers but-" he stopped and turned to another direction. "The flower shop was closed and I didn't know. So I - Well, I -"

You blinked at him, the last tears flowing down. And then he turned to you and you saw them. Daisies. He hold onto just a few of them. They weren't fresh, most of them already hanging their heads.

But that somehow made them even prettier.

"I wanted to bring you Daisies." he muttered and looked down at them.

You couldn't help but softly laugh, the sobbing dying out. Your cheeks were drying, and your candy apple didn't seem like your last holding point anymore.

"Thank you, Satoru." you whispered with still a hoarse voice. "But why Daisies?"

That's when a loud bang made you look up into the sky. The first firework was raining upon the sky, the red lights illuminated the sky, painting a beautiful picture.

"They make me think of you."

You turned to Satoru and for the first time tonight looked him in the eyes. His beautiful eyes. The fireworks somehow made them even more gorgeous.

"I'm sorry I came late, I really am." he glanced at the candy apple in your hands. "You probably enjoyed the evening more without me."

Another bang made you look up again. The new firework was a yellow one, looking like it was raining gold from the sky.

"Do you want it?" you held the sweet apple in front of him. "I don't really want it."

He blinked at you, his face going from guilt to embarrassment. "You can't do that!" He muttered. "You can't just give me your candy apple."

A purple firework lit up the sky again. You tilted your head as you looked at him. "Why is that? You like sweets."

He wanted to say something, but only seconds after, he did take your candy apple. He handed you the Daisies, which were changing color through the lights. Just like his hair.

He hesitated, but bit into the candy apple, while holding it with one hand. It looked a bit clumsy but also endearing.

You felt tired but something inside you was so happy. Yeah, he was late. So what? He still cared about you. And that was what counted in the end.

You could feel him glance at you as you looked into the sky watching the different colors exploding and painting the dark night. And then you felt it.

His hand engulfing yours.

"You look pretty in that kimono."

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

Fall 2009

"Satoru, stop drowning yourself in the shower, I have to shower too!"

Satoru groaned at the voice of his roommate and friend. The cold water was so relaxing, like it was washing a bit of his uneasiness away.

Of the girl he made out with that Friday.

"Chill, I'm almost finished." he called out while going through his wet hair again, while the water rained down.

God, the weekend was awful. You just hadn't left his head, he couldn't believe that he did what you accused him of doing. He didn't remember that Friday precisely. He had probably drank too much. There was only one thing he surely remembered.

There was this guy who had flirted with you while you were working in the coffee shop that Friday. God, the way he looked at you made him want to-

The rest of that day was vague. He remembered that girl that was clinging to him. She wasn't really his type but he was drunk so he had let her kiss him. But he didn't know what else he did. But to just forget you? That didn't sound like himself.

"Satoru!" Suguru called out again.

"I'm coming!" Satoru turned of the shower with a huff. He took his things and dressed himself in sweatpants and a hoodie.

"Someone has to make sure you don't do something stupid." Suguru muttered as Satoru stepped out of the bathroom.

"Well, it's not you, you do equally stupid things." he grinned at his best friend and stepped to the side, to make space for him. "The shower is yours."

"Yeah, yeah, Satoru."

Suguru disappeared into the bathroom, lifting a heavy weight of Satoru's shoulders. He didn't want to keep worry his friend. Yeah, he felt shitty but he didn't have to make it everyone's problem. Oh well, he tried not to.

His room was dirty. He hadn't left it the last three days, only to shower and to get food and water. He had watched every comforting movie, but even those weren't helping, since he just remembered they were always comforting because he had watched them with you. Whose reactions can he watch when he is sitting alone in his room?

Normally Satoru would call himself as a rather put well together person. But when it came to you, he acted irrational, dumb, stupid, overall he was just not thinking. With you the emotions were always stronger, didn't matter if good or bad. And he knew that wasn't healthy.

But he didn't know how to change it.

He didn't want to have bad things between the two of you. He wanted to make it right, to make you look at him again. But he also didn't want to push your boundaries anymore. Even though it was itching in his fingers to get up and go to your work to apologize.

But that wouldn't work, he knew that. So he had to apologize differently.

Ring!

His phone buzzed and for a slight second he hoped it was you. But it wasn't. It was that privat unknown number that kept calling him, even though he ignored it.

And he knew he shouldn't, but his energy was low, so he just answered. "Hello? Who is there?"

There was a bit of rustling on the other side and a gasp could be heard. "Satoru, I gave you my number, didn't I?" It was a female voice he couldn't quite decipher. "Didn't you safe it?"

"I'm sorry, -" he felt a bit uneasy at the tone of the voice. "But who are you?"

There was a second gasp. "You wound me Satoru! After we had such a lovely evening..." Her voice went a bit lower. "Oh, wait... Did you forget me?"

Her giggling after that made him confused. "Anyway, I'm Haoka, silly!"

"Well, I don't know you, so please stop calling me." He was already on the button to end the call as she called out; "Wait! You really don't remember? We were together that Friday, in the 'Crying Angel', that club."

Oh god, he wanted to face-palm himself. Why did he give anyone there his number?

"We shared some glasses of wine and some of the fun stuff the bartender brought..."

Slowly some memories came back. Pictures of him sitting in that uncomfortable couch, but feeling so at peace...

"And then you pulled me onto your lap and kissed me-"

He remembered vaguely how he felt something big and warm against his chest as he had zoned out. He knew he had made out with some girl beforehand, but that he gave her his number...

"Haoka, was it? I'm sorry but I was literally drunk out of my mind, would you stop harassing me?" He heard her be quiet for once. "Thank you."

"Wai-" he stopped the call and sighed.

Well, he had to apologize to you somehow.

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

A week later

"L/n!" you flinched as you heard your manager call out to you from the door of the coffee shop. You sighed to yourself while walking to your workplace. It was 8.30am foe God's sake. Couldn't you just walk to work in peace without being told to hurry?

"I'm coming!" you called out, and walked a bit faster. A couple of seconds later you were on the doorstep of the little shop.

"New flowers came for you." your manager shook her head while pointing to the counter. "That's nice and all, but if you can, tell the one who is sending them, that they should send them to your address and not to ours, okay? I'm not always here to get them for you."

There on the counter they were. Fresh, healthy daisies, waiting for you.

"Yeah, sorry." you muttered and disappeared into the changing room. Behind the closed door you wanted to sink into the floor. And you wanted to die from embarrassment, because there was also a bit of giddiness in side your stomach.

Dumb.

After you changed you walked behind the counter, the white flowers were shining up to you. And of course there was a small note attached, just like with the rest. The last days, there was written:

I'm sorry. I know I was an ass.

Is there something I can do? I don't want us to fall apart.

Can we talk?

They were always small notes and you wished you didn't, but you did keep them with you. The last nights you always read them again and wondered if you should call him. Taking your phone and staring at it for half an hour. But in the end you always chickened out.

The coffee shop door opened and Utahime came in, yawning. "Good morning."

"Good morning." you smiled at her as she came up to you. "Slept well?"

She scoffed while taking of her bag from her shoulder and placing it behind the counter next to you. "Don't even start."

She was already turning to go to the changing room, when she stopped in her tracks. Her look hanging on the new flowers in the small vase. She rolled her eyes and scoffed again. "He's still sending them?"

"Yeah." you kept your gaze on the white flowers.

"You know, I don't want to influence you too much. You know I was never a fan of Satoru." Utahime was whispering now, her voice gentle. "But don't let him pressure you with these gifts, okay? If you want to talk to him, do it, but don't forget what he did just because of some pretty flowers."

There was something big in your throat. You tried to swallow it, you really did, but it just didn't succeed. So you spoke with a hoarse voice; "Okay, I won't."

She smiled softly before she turned and went into the changing room.

You knew there was a new note. But you were so scared to look at it. Because even though he wasn't here, it was still a confrontation with Satoru. And you were scared of talking to him right now, because you knew how sentimental you can get when it came to Satoru.

You didn't want to keep thinking about him. Especially at work when you were alone with your thoughts and the coffee. But with these flowers beside you it was impossibile to think of anything or anyone else.

You wanted to know. Wanted to know how he responded to your lack of response.

Carefully, you separated the note from the flower it was attached to. The flower was the only one whose head was slightly hanging. The paper felt like fire in your hands. You heard Utahime's steps towards the counter and you knew she had seen what was in your hands. But she didn't act like she saw, she just turned to the door waiting for a costumer to come in. So you opened it.

You couldn't help it. You've got to know.

Are we still friends? - G. S.

Your eyes were starting to burn, your vision blurring before your eyes. You couldn't, you shouldn't but you did. You started to tear up.

"Hey, you okay?" You heard Utahime's soft whisper next to you. You wanted to answer, you really did, but your mouth didn't let you.

Utahime started to move again as she heard you sob one more time and went into the back rooms. You didn't hear it loud and clearly but you could decipher the words she spoke to your manager.

"L/n isn't feeling well. She-" The door shut completely behind her and you didn't hear more.

You tried to catch your breath, however it seemed impossible. Slowly you took a breath in, a breath out. In. Out.

It was 9 am. You were at work. Everything was okay.

"Hey." You didn't notice Utahime was next to you again, missing her steps towards you. "I spoke to her, you can go."

"What?" you looked up at her in surprise.

She sighed. "I hate to say it, but it won't get better if you don't talk it out with him. You don't have to do it today, but you are obviously not in the right state to sit here next to these flowers for hours, or are you?"

You slightly shook your head head. She smiled softly. "Then get going."

For a second you just blankly stared at her. But then it hit you. You could leave. Should leave. And today you would do it. You would talk to him and speak your whole mind. Yeah, you would tell him how you felt after the last confusing years, where he treated you like the sun one second and like shit the next. Not tomorrow. Today.

"Thank you." you hurried to the changing room, poking your head out before closing it. "Thank you!"

You heard her laugh, while you hastly changed. The apron was off in seconds, you had to stop and take a breath, before you opened the door again.

You hurried to take your bag and as you arrived back at the counter, your gaze fell onto the flowers on the counter. It was dumb. But you took them out of the vase and held them dearly to your heart.

"Get well soon." Utahime winked at you as you stood at the door. You gulped, but smiled back.

"I'll try.

-------> At home

The door was shut fastly behind you, you hurried to the kitchen to get the flowers a small cup as a vase. There was a small blue one, which was also not too small, so you took it. Filled it with water, as your eyes fell onto a note on the fridge.

Will be away for the whole day, medicine exam is eating me up - Shoko

Oh. Shoko was with her study group. Medicine was a hard major. But to be honest right now you didn't really think much about it. The only thing in your mind was the phone in your bag.

You placed the little cup-vase onto the kitchen table. The daisies were smiling at you, just like they were six years ago.

You wanted to smile back but it didn't feel like the time for that.

Your hand took your phone out of your bag. You watched as you fiddled with it. Wondering if maybe you should do it tomorrow, since you were pretty exhausted-

No. Today.

Your fingers were shaking as you typed his number. Hesitating before the dialing button. But in the end you did press it.

Your anxiety rose by thousands as you heard the dialing tone. And by the third time it rang you wanted to hang up, until -

"Hello?"

His voice was a bit hesitant and quiet. You were shaking, wondering why you called him, without thinking what words precisely to say, why did you just call him without any plan-

"Stop sending flowers to my workplace." your voice was slightly shaking, just like your hands. "My manager can't keep picking them up."

"Oh." it was very quiet on the other side. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you trouble with them."

A silence made it's way into the call. You heard him breath and you were sure he heard your anxious breathing too. God, this whole idea was a mess.

"Hey." he spoke again. "Do you want to talk about it? Are you ready to talk about it?"

...

"Yeah, I'm ready." your voice was a whisper.

The second silence followed, this one even a bit more tense.

"Can I come over, or is that to much?"

Your breath hitched, suddenly this seemed so real. You were stupid for it but you did miss him. You wanted to see him.

"It's okay." you muttered and heard a relieved sigh from him.

"Good, because I am almost there."

And just like that he hung up. Leaving you standing dumbfounded in your kitchen, the realization slowly settling. Wait, he meant immediately? You didn't think he would be already on his way, you still didn't know what to say!

God, you needed a tea.

Today was a green tea day. You worked your kettle, trying to keep your cool. But it was near impossible. How could you remain calm, when Satoru was coming over? Satoru, who was usual never wanting to have a serious talk?

Ring

You looked at your kettle, only to realize it had been the doorbell. Okay. It was time.

You opened the door of your apartment, to see a soaked Satoru standing before you, breathing heavy.

"Sorry for the rush, I didn't want to intimidate you." he muttered while his eyes were locked onto the ground. "I just had to see you in person."

"It's alright." Well, he still intimidated you, but in the end you wanted to see him in person too. At least you think you did, when you look at his wet, but still gorgeous hair. At his blue ocean like eyes. It was just Satoru.

You let him into your apartment, hurrying to your kettle, who was now ringing too. You heard him shut the door, as you poured yourself a cup of tea, watching as the water turned green.

His steps echoed through the apartment, until he stood there, in the doorframe of the kitchen. His eyes now locked onto you as you glanced at him. You took your tea cup and sat down at the table. Gesturing with your hand that he should sit down too. He did.

You saw him gulp, but he kept quiet. You took a long sip.

"So?"

His eyes widened a bit. Then he cleared his throat. "I wanted to apologize to you. Like, really apologize. I know I messed up."

You could see his hands fidgeting but he still kept his eyes on you.

"I don't remember what I was thinking. And I mean that literally, I drank so much that I didn't remember even going to this club." he shook his head. "Not that that excuses anything. My first mistake was drinking carelessly. And I'm so-"

"Why did you?" you stopped him. He tilted his head a bit as you looked at him. "You treated me horrible that evening. You left me alone at the entrance of that club, drank your brain away and then disappeared. Why did you leave me alone at the entrance, why did you drink so much?"

His body tensed up and you knew you struck a nerve.

"And you know that's not the first time." you muttered. "It's like three years ago, when you suddenly made that shift to treat me horrible and then dropped me as a friend."

Silence made itself into the room.

"And then you come back to apologize and want everything to go back as it were, but it doesn't." you whispered. "I can pretend that it does, but it doesn't. Because I just don't feel appreciated as a person. For you I'm always-" Your voice broke a bit.

"For you I'm always just the safe backup. Because I always forgive you and you know it."

"That's not true." Satoru tried to grab your hands on the table, but you pulled them away. Any form of contact right now would kill you.

"Then what is it, Satoru? It feels like you never told me."

His eyes faced the table, now looking like he was sick. His posture was stiff as he fidgeted more with his fingers.

"I'm an idiot, you know?" he was mumbling. "A coward and a selfish idiot."

"What are you talking about?" you gripped onto your warm teacup. He looked at your hands, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

"It's just -" he stopped. While looking at you he shook his head and abruptly stood up. Speaking with his hands on his face, his voice a bit muffled but still understandable. "I want you to know that everything I will say is not me trying to justify my behavior, okay? I just - I own you an honest explanation."

You looked at him, as he seemed to hide himself behind his hands. You were scared. Scared of what he will say. But you knew you also wanted and needed to know. "Alright, then tell me Satoru."

It's silent again, the only thing you heard was the sound of a neighbor's key falling outside of the Appartement. Satoru was messing with his hair, while he avoided to look at you. You could see the gear wheels in his head working, trying to make out what to say. He took a sharpy breath.

"Every time I notice that we are growing more together or become closer, it's just so, -" he shook his head. "It's so scary. Because I notice how I start to feel and act and I -, well I get cold feet and try to push you away. Because I know, that it's stupid for me to feel how I feel, and I don't want to lose our friendship and-"

"Wait, wait, wait." you raised your hand. "You're pushing me away because you don't want to lose our friendship?"

He groaned. "It's stupid I know and in the last years I have become better, but it's just-, god, every time I see someone flirting with you and you look so happy, my emotions become so big and I get angry with everything."

"Satoru what do you mean? Why would you - I don't understand." now it was your turn to hide your head behind your hands.

"That Friday, before we went to that club together. I have seen you with that guy, who bought you a drink at your workplace. And you laughed so much, I just felt so shitty because I realized-" his voice is shaking. "I realized that I still have feelings for you."

The world seemed to stop spinning. You raised your head in slow motion and looked at him. His blue eyes were locked on you, showing vulnerability. You couldn't help but just stare at him.

"And I got scared!" his voice got a bit louder as he started pacing down the kitchen. "Because I have been in the friend zone my entire life and I thought I could live with that. But everything was so much, I saw red and just wanted to hide. I wanted to snap out of that feeling so I left you standing at the entrance."

He stopped pacing, his back now turned to you. "It's the same every time. I want to keep our friendship, but push you so far away that we become strangers."

"You really are an idiot."

You didn't notice until you spoke, that you were crying. Ugly sobbing filled the room, you felt like suffocating. "Not once did you ask yourself how I felt. You just wanted to keep yourself safe, didn't you?"

You could see his back tensing. You shook your head. "You made me feel like I was the friend you only kept in touch with, because our parents know each other. You made me feel so dumb for wanting to spend time with you. That's not how you treat someone you have feelings for!

You could have just told me."

He scoffed, now turning around. "Would we be still be friends if I did? "

"No."

You looked at the green tea in your cup. "We would be more."

You could hear his breath hitch. And in seconds he was standing in front of the table again. You felt his gaze on you. "What do you mean?"

You laughed while tears were streaming down your cheeks. "Satoru it was so obvious for everyone else. Why do you think I have forgiven you every time, no matter what you did?

I have feelings for you."

The silence came back. And with a silent sigh he sat down before you again, hwad in his hands again. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Why did you never tell me? Because I was scared of ruining our friendship. And you always seemed to have zero feelings for me that we're not platonic." you sobbed again, making him flinch. You saw his hand twitch, but this time he didn't move it.

"Please, don't cry." he was whispering with such care in his voice you wanted to cry harder. "Not over my stupidity."

A small try of a laugh escaped you. "I'm always crying over your stupidity, Satoru." you shook your head. "But also mine. I could have confessed too, but I didn't because I was scared. I'm sorry."

He moved a bit closer, his chair now as near as possible. "Don't apologize -"

"But I am sorry. Because now I don't know how to feel and..." you stopped, trying to catch your breath. "I want to forgive you, but I'm just so scared and -"

That's when Satoru stood up again. You watched through your blurry vision how he made his way to you, going around the table. There he stood looking at you with something so big, something so mighty in his eyes.

Carefully his hands made it's way next to your face, drying your tears and caressing your face.

"I know that I will do everything to deserve your forgiveness. No pushing away, no riddles."

He wiped your hair out of the way and placed a soft kiss onto your forehead.

"But I don't think I want to be friends anymore."

Deleted scene:

"I thought I should stop sending them." Satoru had his signature grin on his face, while looking at the daisies on the table. "But you do like them!"

"I didn't say you should stop sending them, I said you should stop sending them to my workplace." you kept your gaze on the white flowers in front of you, even though you felt him staring at you. "And I didn't want you to think that you could buy my forgiveness."

"Oh, I never thought that! I just wanted to you to know that I thought of you." his close body raised a hand to take on of the daisies. "You remember that day at the festival?"

"Of course I do." you snorted. "I thought you were stupid for bringing daisies and claiming that they remind you of me, when they are white flowers."

He gasped dramatically. "Stupid? That was my heart laid out in front of you!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful 'hurt' face. "Then why do they remind you of me?"

"You were always new beginning."

Taglist:

@lady-of-blossoms @mistygrovesarchive @hauntedcatnerd3 @ginginha

@watermelonslut @genxnarumi @lun4rchive @dekusdante

@eclecticmentalitypersona @ackermendick @luciiferslover @hyunsuks-beanie

@ri-sa20 @mew4-ever18 @cgmajor @gojojjknanami

@haikyuusimpsblog @starlightglimmersworld @sadmonke

@sheep-infog @ssetsuka

#gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo angst #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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i9chicago · 3 months ago

Text

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Sweet loving you.

pairing — spencer reid x professor! fem! reader.

genre — smut (18+ so minors dni)

summary — you think you despise dr. spencer reid with all your bones, you think he's too good and too accomplished at what he does, and you think he despises you too. till you discover his particular liking for you that night when he saw you in a red dress.

word count — 9k (i'm so sorry)

warnings — oral (f receiving) fingering, soft dom! spencer cuz it's rotting my brain cells. masturbation. semi-public sex. lots of kissing. reader is a neuroscience professor.

a/n — this is my first fic here so be nice or i'll cry. english is not my first language so forgive me for any grammar mistakes. like for part 2 (please) ehh, i hate the ending. that's it. hope at least you enjoy it! <3

Red was never a color linked to joy. For some, it was the antithesis of calm—an unruly hue brimming with everything those fond of gentler tones tended to avoid: anger, desire, unbridled passion. A color that rose along a scale of relentless intensity, evoking not warmth, but power.

That’s why you chose to wear a crimson dress fitted neatly across your back, for the event. It didn’t need to be overly elegant or striking— just enough to keep you from feeling underdressed. Just enough to give you the confidence to stand tall and lift your chin in a room full of professors and potential future colleagues, the ones you'd meet again in hallways and over hurried lunches. You loved teaching. And truthfully, you didn’t mind being surrounded by university students who emailed you at four in the morning with long-winded excuses dressed up in flowery language to explain why they missed class or hadn’t done the work. You bit your tongue and kept going. People in the field admired your approach to teaching and your background in neuroscience had taken you far—far enough to park your car outside a sleek hotel and walk through its doors to stand among the best. To make your position as a tenured professor feel less like a myth spun into fantasy in your own head—and more like the fact it was becoming.

It was meant to be a calm affair, or so claimed the invitation embossed in gold thread and impeccable calligraphy, which promised a welcoming evening for the newly appointed tenured professors. You were one of them, even though you'd only been teaching for a year. Your heart thudded in erratic rhythms and you clutched your small handbag so tightly your knuckles turned white, the click of your heels echoing across the ceramic-gray tiles. Tilted your head, curious, catching sight of a golden chandelier overhead, mirroring the three-dimensional designs painted into the ceiling. It was such a pivotal moment, and yet, in all the hours spent getting ready, your mind had spiraled through a thousand reasons for things to go wrong. You couldn’t help it. Your head was always turning against you like it took some kind of pleasure in watching you unravel into a mess of nerves and dread, about the room’s reactions, about your own autonomy. Maybe you’d spill wine on your dress. Maybe you’d choke on a piece of ice from a champagne flute. Maybe you'd talk too much and accidentally let slip something painfully personal. The other professors didn’t need to know that. They didn’t need to know anything about you. Still, when alcohol starts to feel like a second skin, you’d promised yourself you’d manage it, one drink every two hours. Enough to keep disaster at bay.

You greeted a few adjunct professors as they passed by, and the moment you stepped into the grand hall, your jaw nearly dropped. The entire place was blue. Neon lights laced the walls, and a young DJ—probably no older than twenty—was spinning electronic remixes of ‘80s hits. It was almost a joke. There were far too many people for this to be just faculty. You doubted it. The entire teaching department must’ve been here, something you hadn’t quite expected. You’d imagined a more traditional venue: jazz music, old money burning through the most expensive drinks at a quiet bar in the corner. Instead, the tables were dressed in white linen with centerpieces of soft blue and white flowers. And suddenly, you felt overwhelmed. You accepted the glass of champagne a waiter offered you, now, it felt less like a choice and more like a necessity. You didn’t see a single familiar face and with the sheer number of bodies crowding the space, heat began to wrap around your bones. Usually, you were good at socializing, at least good enough not to make a fool of yourself. Winning over professors — especially the ones in physics— was a simple task, and the unspoken rule from the arts department was clear: never, under any circumstances, cross them. So yes, faking camaraderie came naturally to you. And with a few drinks, the task became almost idyllic.

You approached a table and picked up a small peach pastry, the sweetness of the powdered sugar melting on your tongue as your eyes scanned the room, now with a faint smudge of red lipstick on the bite. Then, something shifted. You felt it a gaze on the back of your neck. You turned slowly, your breath catching just as your pulse began to quicken.

Spencer Reid. And he was looking at you.

The same who was too ‘good’ to consider a tenured position at the college. The genius. The chosen one. The prodigy. An FBI profiler whose dignity vanished from the young girls in his classes as soon as they saw him or attended his seminars purely to watch him talk and talk and spill random data that none of them really cared about. They just went to see him. And he didn't even notice. Or, if he did, he was perfectly good at turning a blind eye to it.

It made your blood crawl. Cause you spent months hearing praise behind your back about how all his degrees and accomplishments put him in an optimal position to walk the halls as if he were a member of royalty himself. Sometimes you would see him in the gardens talking to some students being so generous and so kind that you would inevitably roll your eyes at his perfect kindness that you wanted to avoid seeing him as soon as possible. Everyone talked about him and you could understand why: He was an excellent prototype of the good man wrapped in good faith. Occasionally, you would meet his gaze at teacher's meetings, passing a cup of coffee in the mornings of pure silent politeness because neither of you had ever conversed in sentences that veered beyond a harmless thank you and good morning. You offered him your best smiles as his fingers brushed yours as you held out the cardboard cup full of black coffee and he would stare longer at your lips before sliding his periphery into your hands and leaving, as if touching you made him burn, as if he ached for the involuntary touch of your skins. Your friends were aware of how much you didn't like at all everything that endorsed his presence, and they didn't understand. You had a stable job. And of almost the same vitality as his. They told you that your reasons for loathing him were ridiculous, childish and, for a moment, they said you just didn't like him because he incarnated in flesh and blood everything you were attracted to in a man. And you were perfect at dismissing that.

Because it was. And that's what you really fucking hated.

You were unlucky. That was it. As if there was some bizarre entity pre-existing that dragged your decisions into an eternal abyss and turned you into a mixture of bad experiences that only increased as the years went by. And Spencer, in theory, seemed to be too surreal. Sure, his proportions as a whole were appropriate. And you had no trouble figuring out why young girls sighed with their hand on their chin every time he opened his mouth. There was no name for what you felt for him. It was just... It was weird. Weird for you, even, because you were used to being around people like him. But never like him. No one was like him.

Maybe your friends were right in saying that your occasional disdain for Spencer was born solely out of a need for adrenaline that you simply stopped paying attention to him. When your eyes met his in the distance, in a crowd, he smiled at you.

Bastard.

He had no right. He had no right to smile warmly at you as he raised his hand slightly in greeting, which he then lowered because of how awkward and absurd it looked. Much less did he have it to look this well melted by a suit that seemed to be itching his skin. With the red tie and the white shirt stuck to his body. All your attempts to pretend to be indifferent when it came to him were more than unsuccessful, in fact, irrational was a better word to describe it. You did nothing more than answer his greeting with a rehearsed smile as you turned to the food table swallowing a couple of those peach snacks, which you simulated with another swig of champagne feeling how the taste of alcohol numbed the few senses you had left one hundred percent. You sighed, much to your dismay, the dress was starting to feel tighter and tighter around your waist and you felt a flash of wind caressing the bare skin of your back. And to think that Spencer was probably watching you sent a searing heat through all your extremities. You stood up on your back and walked to the other end, however, the glass goblet you held in your right hand had a small crack that dug into your palm making you gasp from the sting of the glass against your flesh. Blood, thick and metallic, gushed out in small gushes from the wound. You felt dizzy for a second. And you wanted to go straight to the nearest bathroom.

Spencer followed your figure gliding through the crowd. The music was loud and what he heard from some of the professors, even if he didn't like to admit it (they were a bit older and kind of jerks) he stopped listening to them the moment your eyes connected with his and just lost himself in how he felt his heart rate become erratic. Superficial. He didn't need the world to be quiet to hear his heart racing. And it wasn't in the ingestion of alcohol, so in his glass rested a simple apple cider that he drank with enthusiasm. It was in how you received his perception, he was used to reading between the lines. And he had spent a lot of time reading specifically how you responded to being in his presence. Always evasive. You pleaded silently. He was not indifferent to your avoidance and sometimes caught you looking at him when you thought he didn't notice. In some other context it would seem creepy and worthy of concern. But it was you. All he saw was you. He wanted to see why his limits seemed to be nonexistent when it came to you and everything that warranted your mere objectivity. He listened to you in your classes, giving extensive perorations on the theory of neuroplasticity, and your students raved about you.

There was something irrefutable in how you learned to avoid him with a grace that overwhelmed him. He wished the words you never pronounced could be a clear language. But no. You chose evasion, silence. An elusiveness so subtle that it only left room for curiosity, for the need to understand why you were doing it. As if everything between you was an unwritten dialogue that he couldn't complete.

He could hear the softness of your words as he rummaged deep into his memories, when you talked about the evaluative changes in neuroscience in front of a packed classroom, your voice flowed like a calm river but inside him everything was churning and he didn't even bother to look for its root. It didn't bother him, actually, he was fascinated by how you were able to captivate everyone, and, at the same time, keep him out of your reach.

It killed him. It killed him slowly and torturously how he begged you with the simplicity of his gestures and looks and you purely eluded him. But what killed him the most was that, despite being so close, it always seemed like it wasn't enough. That he never reached that last layer that protected you.

He couldn't help but feel like a doomed voyeur watching as that invisible barricade between you held firm. Talk to me. Look at me. Why not? How long will I endure? Every vestige of desire of his was mounting to catatonic levels.

A cold current was seeping deep into his skin, icing his fingers as he waited, patiently, for some movement, a sign from you.

But nothing.

Only the pleasure of your indifference, so bitter and bewitching, like a trap he didn't know how to escape from. And, damn it, he loved it.

The white walls in the bathroom loomed over you as you walked in hoping for an aid kit somewhere, you looked in the mirror for a moment, realizing how lousy the night was going and you were just getting there. It was supposed to be a good time to continue making friends and finally find more people to have lunch with at noon. You should have seen it coming. You thought for hours about whether it was a good idea to attend and your apartment, not far from the hotel, a few blocks from the venue, was a mess. Dresses strewn across the floor and your cat found the jumble of sleeping fabric in every corner of the house fascinating. The pain in your hand was getting more intense, too strong, unbearable. A burst of burning that intensified every second. You made a point of washing away the bright blood with the water and grimaced at the new coolness and stinging sensation of the cut.

But even the pain didn't lessen the fact that you were thinking about him. And that infuriated you. The gazes that lasted longer than usual, the gestures you avoided and those imperceptible moments charged with something much more substantial. What did you want to do with all of that? Nothing. You couldn't do anything. Spencer was in a completely foreign league to you and you had to respect that.

You didn't even want to imagine what would happen if people at the college found out. People talk, and they don't measure the magnitude of their words and all that a simple hallway rumor could trigger. Like teens. No one should be interested in what two professors were doing outside the institution. And besides, he wasn't even working full time. He was an agent. Even more reason why this growing, heated thing between you two was a flat out no way it was going to happen. It was undermining all your senses. All your good judgment diminishing it to nothing. No, it couldn't happen. The tension was limiting your core beliefs. And as you tried to maintain a control you knew you didn't have, the restlessness in your chest only grew.

As you did everything in you to heal the cut quickly, you heard the faint creak of the door. You raised your head and, in the reflection of the mirror you saw Spencer's figure bursting into the glare of the bathroom lights. You failed to keep calm. Because you had nothing left. Spencer briefly held the handle, his eyes sliding a quick glance between the mess in your hand and the confusion evident on your face, your cheeks flushed, your breathing still uncontrolled. And, without a word, he locked the door.

The sound of the lock clicking echoed in the air, amplifying the tension already vibrating in the space. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his presence washed over you so tightly that the sting in your cut receded into the background. But for him it seemed otherwise. He stood in front of you so close you could feel his breath, a faint sigh that seemed to touch your skin, make the air thick, dense. He looked at you briefly, straight into your eyes and that's when you understood why you were avoiding him so much. It was him. His gaze. His warmth. Everything about him sucked you in, pulled you in and was all too evident. His intensity was like a force of gravity that drew you in hopelessly. No matter how much you dodged it, no matter how hard you tried to shield yourself from that connection, it was as if the very nature of the situation had determined that the distances between the two of you were simply not viable.

He looked at you as if asking for permission to heal your hand, and though he didn't say it out loud, he didn't need to. The question was in the solid silence between the two of you, in the way he watched you, so close that you could almost feel his thoughts without a single word needing to be uttered. That look, that little action.

You couldn't hide from him.

You, who had always maintained control, felt how he crumbled at the softness of his gesture, at the implicit trust he offered. At how his hands, veiny and warm, took yours with an unspoken hush. You were trapped in his closeness and in his palpable presence. And worst of all, you wanted to stay there, caught in the nervousness of his look, in the subtle touch of his fingers.

You decided to speak. Or else you couldn't stand it any longer. “I should put in a beef about the dangers of champagne glasses.” You said trying to sound normal, calm. But the tension in your voice was so intense that you ignored it, "It was broken, hmm, I guess it's no big deal. It's probably not even deep."

“You're bleeding out here,” he chuckles, and the sound of his laughter, light but kind of warm, sneaks through the cracks in your conscience. You feel his thumb caress the palm of your hand, and the derision in his tone makes you laugh too. He clears his throat, before scanning his gaze around the bathroom for an aid kit. "You need to clean that. Or it'll get infected.”

“No, no. You don't need to ” you whisper, but you let his hand continue to hold you. “I'm fine, really...”

Spencer stopped in front of you, bent down slightly to look at your hand in more detail. “It does need to,” he replied in a slight murmur. "Superficial wounds can be much more dangerous than they appear. In fact, small cuts are more susceptible to infection than larger ones, because they may go unnoticed, but they leave a perfect entrance for bacterias. In this case, if you don't clean and disinfect it, Staphylococcus aureus bacteria are quite common, and that could lead to a serious infection."

You felt a little stunned. The amount of information he dumped on you so quickly left you somewhat entranced. However, the concern on his face was genuine. And it touched you.

Why did he have to look like that?

“Uh, I can't say I knew that.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Just a bit.” You replied. It was true. But it hurt more that as he looked at you he kept stroking your hand with his thumb and each caress drove you crazy. “Any diagnostic, doctor?”

He laughed, and your heart skipped a beat. God. His smile was even more charming holding you that close. A pair of dimples growing in his cheeks and he effortlessly aroused sensations in you too primal to admit out loud.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he whispers, the hint of his smile still visible. “But I need to clean that up for you... It's... It's okay if I do?”

You nodded, not knowing what to answer. Her gaze slid across the bathroom coming across a small white box resting on the counter. He turned away from you for brief seconds and, though it was a flicker in time, you felt the emptiness he left. You missed his touch and felt pathetic. So simple. So insignificant. And yet he still managed to unsettle you

Why did his closeness make you feel exposed, vulnerable? You knew something between the two of you was changing, but was it something you really wanted? Or rather, something you could afford to want?

It didn't give you time to think as he stepped in front of you again and wiped a cotton ball with antiseptic. Taking your hand again, the cool sensation of the antiseptic with the warmth of his fingers pressing against you making a twisted contrast of what it was. It was soft. It was gentle. As if he feared to break you with the simplicity of his caress. He was exalted, you could tell by the way he was breathing through his nose and his chest was rising and falling in a continuous back and forth. You couldn't help but think how, for a second, it seemed like the rest of the world disappeared, and all that was left was him. Just him.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, breaking the silence. “I don't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

It was strange to hear him say that. Because how could he not know that discomfort was, in fact, what made you feel so alive? The vulnerability, the not knowing what was going on between you and the uncertainty you felt in his every gesture. It was all there, hovering between the two of you, and you weren't saying anything about it. You just held each other in this delicate balance that you longed to break.

“You don't.” you said quickly, "It's dumb. I probably wouldn't have done it. I'm not good at this stuff, the last time my cat scratched my whole arm and I'm pretty sure I made the scratches even worse."

Spencer looked up, and for a moment, his expression softened. “I just don't want you to think I'm invading your space,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice was like a soft punch to the chest.

Spencer curved his lips, barely a smile. He continued his slow, meticulous movements cleaning your wound with a precision that was hard to ignore. Every time his finger brushed your skin it was like lighting a thousand matches inside you.

“This isn't so bad,” he murmured, as he carefully cleaned the area around the cut. “It could have been so much worse.”

“Well, hopefully I'm not bleeding to death,” you replied with a small touch of humor. The slight stinging in the wound when the antiseptic touched your skin was somewhat tolerable now, and his presence somehow made you feel calmer.

And, of course, you decided not to pay attention to the closeness of his face and that incipient beard that adorned it perfectly. All over his jaw, you had the urge to touch it and put the fingers of your free hand on the fabric of your dress as if it contained all those growing desires.

“Hopefully not” Spencer laughed, not looking away from your hand. "It's not that dramatic, but you know, some people faint over something as simple as this. The body's reaction to minimal pain can be interesting."

“Really? How?”

You knew the answer. But hearing him speak for you was a necessity now and you decided to take advantage of every second.

"The fear of pain and the physiological reaction is more prevalent than it seems, that's all kind of like a mind game. That it thinks you have something, when the damage is likely to be minimal.”

“And I assume that if there was anyone here passed out, it would be me.” you said, shaking your head and looking at the wound with mock concern. "Yeah, I should have guessed. I cannot tolerate pain.”

Spencer let out a genuine laugh, a laugh that made the air around the two of you feel less tense.

“Definitely,” he said with a laugh. “But don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you.”

“Good to know.”

He continued cleaning and gently placed a children's band-aid (from some cartoon you couldn't recognize) over your cut, now clean and out of harm's way. Were his eyes always this bright or was it the glare of the white lights? And his lips, his lips. Slightly splendorous from whatever he was drinking before he came in. You swallowed saliva, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks as he seemed to have scanned across your face and the bathroom was flooded by a couple of giggles that pretended to say a lot, but was nothing. It wasn't awkward, but that kind of silence that hovered over you and enveloped you in a still atmosphere that you countered with the rowdiness outside. You sat on the countertop, the coldness of the ceramic hitting your thighs hoping he wouldn't leave. You lay your head back in the mirror, and Spencer's head shorted out.

He didn't know how much more he was capable of taking, if he was fit to drown everything that came into his head when he saw through the mirror's reflection that curve of your back, smooth, perfect. The red dress tight to every curve fitting in the right places and that lipstick, lightly smeared across your lower lip. He put his hands in his pockets and swallowed thickly. Your eyes traveled down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with nervousness and notoriety.

“You didn't seem to be enjoying yourself over there" you say amused, your voice tired. "I don't blame you. Teachers' humors are crap."

Spencer nods, standing in front of you. Your knee brushing against the fabric of his dress pants. "I usually enjoy theoretical physics jokes but there's a point where it gets repetitive and boring. If I'm honest, I was looking forward to getting out of there.”

The laugh you let out was soft, almost intimate, as if only he was meant to hear it. Spencer drank it in as if it were something sacred. His fingers, still warm from touching you, flexed in his pants pockets, trying to contain the absurd need to brush against you again.

“Spencer Reid?” you repeated with an arched eyebrow, watching him with a vague smile as you leaned your head back against the mirror a little more. "You must have the highest tolerance for repetitive. You analyze it, dissect it. You find patterns in it, revel in it. I thought you were used to it.”

Spencer tilted his head slightly, tickled by your remark. His eyes roamed over your face with a scrutiny that made you hold your breath. He didn't seem to be looking at you out of mere habit anymore, it seemed he couldn't even help himself. You cleared your throat, but his closeness was brutal. He smelled like aftershave, so strong that the scent drugged you completely.

"Maybe you're right, but there are exceptions. There are always exceptions to the rule, no matter how much I'd rather abide by them." he said, this time turning to you and you swore your heart was going to jump out of your rib cage.

His hands slowly came out of his pockets, and he leaned lightly on the countertop to the side of you. His arm almost brushed your thigh and for an instant you thought he would do it on purpose, that he would trace the fabric of your dress with his fingertips. That he would dare. And you thought how good it would feel to be on his hands, long fingers and protruding veins, holding you like a longing.

“And is tonight one of those exceptions?” you asked, tilting your face toward him, watching him closely.

His throat worked in a strained swallow. "I'm sure it is.”

A shiver ran down your spine. Your breathing got slower, deeper. Your inhibitions out of you. His knuckles, distracted, barely grazed your knee in a touch so light it might have gone unnoticed if it weren't for all your skin igniting in response. Spencer froze at his own boldness, but didn't immediately pull his hand away. Instead, he exhaled slowly through his nose, and his eyelashes lowered slightly as he looked back up at you. All content, his eyes dancing all over your face.

He didn't move.

He didn't leave.

The air in the bathroom seemed to thicken as Spencer leaned forward gently, closing the distance with torturous slowness as if to give your body time to react, to reject him. But you didn't. And you had no plans to either. Your back brushed against the mirror, the coolness of the glass seeping through the thin dress as Spencer's warmth enveloped you from the front. His hands continuing to rest on the countertop on either side of your legs, locking you in with devastating ease.

He was tense. You could see it in his jaw. The line of his throat working as he swallowed saliva with visible effort. Almost instinctively, you tilted your head, and mentally beat yourself up as you thought you could ignore or simply disregard everything that revolved around him because it was impossible. You hesitated on whether to do that thing that was killing you so much, to touch his face, to caress his cheek. Let him do something. His gaze made you breathless. Dark, intense. Fixed on you and only you. His dark, chocolate irises, a hazel hue that you could finally detail up close.

He had the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen.

“Why do you keep avoiding me so much?” his voice was a whisper, but you felt it throughout your body. His breath was warm with a minty undertone, it brushed your mouth. "Did I...did I do something to bother you? I didn't say anything bad about you, if you were wondering. I have eidetic memory, I would remember if I was rude to you at any time.”

You found yourself caught between need and uncertainty. Your hands rested on your thighs, and you wanted him to push them away. Spencer saw it. He saw it in the way your eyelashes quivered in a flutter that sent shocks through his body, in how your gaze dropped fleetingly to his mouth before returning to his eyes, in the way your chest rose and fell too fast, too erratically.

His knuckles brushed the fabric of your dress with calculated carelessness, a light touch on your right thigh that made everything in you tense with an internal jolt. There was no urgency in his movement. Only a torturous patience, an unspoken question in the way his skin tested yours. As if testing the ground.

A restrained sigh escaped your throat, almost inaudible, but he heard it.

“You didn't do or say anything bad about me, Spencer.” you murmur, your voice sharp. "It was my thing. I make movies all the time in my head. I think I was just jealous.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. His knuckles still moving in a steady rhythm over the fabric of your dress, “Jealous? Why would you be jealous?”

Your tongue fleetingly moistened your upper lip. His gaze followed the movement with unsettling thoroughness, his fingers twitching subtly on the countertop. You were unconsciously tasting him. And it delighted you to watch his jaw clench.

“I guess you're too good to be real.” you let out an irony-laden laugh, "It's lame. Don't mind me. I actually thought you didn't like me."

“Why would you think that?” he sounded almost offended, incredulous at what you just said as he let his fingers trail southward away from the red fabric. It was silk, fine silk that hugged your thighs beautifully. His fingers were just as warm on your skin and you shivered as his caresses went up and down. Paulatine, subtle, but it made your hair stand on end. And the way he whispered your name... Almost like a longing held on his tongue, like a heavenly prayer. "I've done nothing but silently wanted you. If you only knew... How long I've been saving this. Keeping you. As if just looking at you was enough.”

Your lips parted, but the words stuck in your throat. As if every particle had stopped in time, leaving them suspended in that instant where nothing else existed except the way he touched you. His hand slid, slow, barely perceptible, but enough to set your skin on fire. His fingers traced invisible lines over your thigh with a devotion that left you gasping for breath, memorizing the texture of your skin, the way you reacted under his touch.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured, it was the only thing that could come out of your mouth. Your voice cracked, feeling the pressure building in your chest, in your belly, in every nerve ending in your body.

A sound escaped from his throat. Low. Grave. As if the confession had managed to shake something inside him.

His hands moved, with deliberate leisure, barely moving up the curve of your thigh before clinginging to the flesh. His torso was so close you could feel the heat radiating from him, the racing beat of his heart pounding in sync with yours.

"No, don't be sorry" his voice was a whisper, his lips against your temple. They were so close you could feel them, a temptation suspended in the air. The edge of his nose brushed yours, a touch so thin, so intimate, that a shiver danced down your back. "I guess it's my fault for not talking to you in the first place. But if you'll let me... I promise not to ask for more than you're willing to give. Because having you anyway is already more than I ever thought I deserved."

God.

You couldn't think, not when he was there, so tangible, so immensely real, tearing down every barrier you'd ever built between the both of you.

His fingers came up again, this time with less hesitation, brushing the inside of your thigh in a barely perceptible movement, but one that sent an electric whiplash up and down your spine. If you moved a little, just a little, he would brush the fabric of your panties.

"Spencer..." his name was a breath caught in your mouth, a plea, a surrender.

He took it. He took your exhalation and made it his own. He kissed you with the kind of awe with where someone touches something sacred for the first time. His mouth rested on yours in a brush that contained months of longing compressed into a single instant. So violently that your body tensed. His lips moved gracefully over yours and his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs as if he was holding back from touching you further. At first it was slow, painfully slow, waiting for you to refuse. But you had no intention of it. You sensed how his tongue brushed your lower lip in an invitation to thrust inside you, and the sweet gasp that came from your mouth in delight entranced him. He sensed it in the way your fingers reached up to grasp at the lapels of his suit, clinging to him as if you were about to collapse.

Kissing Spencer was just how you imagined it would be. Addictive. Teeth and tongues in a rough dance, he was stunned by how you responded to his caresses. By how your hands stopped trembling and rested on the back of his neck, in his hair, pulling him closer to you till you melted into a lingering kiss. Spencer moaned against your mouth, a harsh, restrained sound that reverberated between the both of you, becoming a vibration that traveled down your backbone and spread in torrid heat throughout your body. His fingers, which until now had traced a contained path over superficial parts of your body, twitched over the skin of your thigh, sinking just barely into the soft flesh, as if he needed to hold on to something in particular to keep from twisting his grip. He was losing it completely.

The kiss became hungrier, more impatient. His tongue slid against yours in a fiery, deep caress as his other hand moved up the curve of your back, pressing you against him as if trying to memorize every inch of your body. You shivered from just feeling his touch on your back and how that slit in your dress gave him the opportunity to move down a little.

Every scrape of his lips against yours was a silent confession, every halting gasp a secret that slipped out without the need for words.

Spencer wasn't doing anything by halves, and kissing you was the ultimate proof of that. He was feeling you with every fiber of his being. He was drinking you in with the devotion of a thirsty man finally finding water in the middle of a forsaken desert.

With every particle of his autonomy, with every heaving breath that escaped his throat and the way his body pressed against yours, drawing closer and closer until the air between you ceased to exist. His hand, the one that had traveled up the curve of your back, slid with exasperating slowness to the base of your nape, tangling in your hair. Wrapping itself around the strands of your locks.

As if afraid you might fade away.

His other hand went up another inch, and when his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your panties, a fierce thrill ran through you, arching your back involuntarily at his touch. Wanting more. That he would turn his attentions upon you. He sensed it in the way your nails scratched his hairline, in how your thighs trembled under his caresses and the sudden gasp that escaped from your mouth, imprisoned in his.

He pulled away just a few millimeters, just enough to be able to look at you. To see the slight tremble of your lips swollen by his kisses, the febrile shine in your eyes. His breath collided against your skin, warm and ragged, and in the thick silence of the bathroom, his breath seemed an echo of yours.

The Adam's apple in his throat rose and fell in an effort to swallow saliva.

"I can't believe we missed this just because we had misconceptions about each other." he whispered, as if he found it hard to speak, as if the words scraped his throat as they came out, "You don't know all you do to me."

"I think I have an idea." you said, stunned. With a slow smile curving your mouth as your hands went back up to his cheeks, his beard stinging your fingers, "But I think I'm starting to like it when you show me."

A low growl escaped his chest before he took your mouth again, and no fantasy could match how good it felt to be in his arms. His kisses were intoxicating, tongue everywhere, low moans sending shocks straight to the recent growing bulge in his pants. He held your jaw and claimed you. And you loved it. You melted into him. Your hands took advantage of traveling to his neck, his cheeks, his shoulders. You could spend hours like that. There was a latent tension in his muscles, in the visible struggle between his control and his desire, in the way his dark gaze devoured every detail of you. His hands were so big, gripping your face as you moved closer until you wrapped your legs around him, your thighs at his sides.

Spencer pulled away, he was a mess. His brown hair tousled and his lips glossy and swollen from you. His thumb traced a sweet line over your lower lip. "You're beautiful," he exhales briefly. "So beautiful.”

You pull him by the neck and kiss him again. Hopeless. Hungry. You were sure the denim of your lingerie was wet and that he could feel it. You move your hips moaning against his mouth from the friction of your center against his pants. Spencer noticed your need, and his knee began to rub you. Slowly, feeling you contract from the pleasure. Your dress rode up over your thighs and he pulled them almost all the way up, to the level of your hips, allowing himself to revel in the matching lace of your wet panties. Soaked. For him. His right hand slid to your chest and groped your dress, seeking to pull it down. You nodded in agreement still with your lips on his, letting him know you needed him. That he would touch you. It was a slight effort, but with blind skill he lowered the top of your dress.

"I'm surprised at how skillfully you did that," you whispered between kisses. You hear his laugh, hoarse and throaty, as his knee continued to rub your center, and you cried out. A low cry that you silenced by biting your tongue.

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought as soon as I saw you come in." he said resting his forehead with yours. Widening his hands below your knees, and when he stretched a little, the breath caught in his throat.

You looked like a gorgeous wreck. Your lipstick was running, your barely visible red lace bra made your hardened nipples noticeable and the feel of the cold made them hard as rocks. Spencer kissed you. Quick, fleeting, placing his thumb and forefinger against your right nipple and pressing it, making you turn your eyes. His touch sent tingles all over your body, no matter how small or large, the mere fact that he was touching you was driving you crazy.

His kisses descend to your neck, leaving soft bites in an everlasting path. He nibbles that spot on your pulse and you tremble. Your hand touching his curls as you gasped uncontrollably.

"You're..." he began, but the word was lost in your neck. He kissed the curve of your collarbone, the racing pulse in your throat. " You're devastating.”

He scattered sporadic kisses across your neck and suddenly you felt like you were out of orbit when his fingers found your panties. Stroking you over the fabric. You wiggled your hips in search of more friction and melted into his arms. He teased both of your nipples. He kissed you with such vehemence and eagerness. It was simply too much. Your eyes traveled to the bulge in his sweatpants, and you had that urge to touch him again. It was big, you deduced immediately by how the fabric of the pants fit painfully around the outline of his cock. Your hand barely grazed it as he pushed you away and returned his kisses to your lips. Tugging at them. Biting, sucking with impetus.

"Is that good or bad?" you asked curving your back.

Spencer looked up from his spot, his eyes burning with an intensity so pure it took your breath away. "It's all I want.”

He bent down with only one knee digging into the floor, and your brain lit up. You were aware of what he was about to do and you pressed your thighs together, almost reluctantly. In response, he put his hands on your knees and looked at you over his long eyelashes and his eyes sparkling from all the excitement that was only growing more and more. No, he had no right to look at you like that. To have you at his mercy with just a kiss. To look so needy for you.

"Don't get shy now." he said, his fingers squeezing the hypersensitive flesh of your thighs to open them for him again. "I want to touch you, please, angel. Let me show you how much I've needed you. How much I've longed to touch you, please, can I?"

His plea turned you to plasticine. It was a desperation rooted from deep in your chest and the mere thought that he had imagined this precise scene in the past turned you on. That maybe he had it all planned out and now he was kneeling before you basically begging to touch you. Your hand reached out to his curls, stroking his brown, unruly hair and you nodded as your lips curved into a smile that Spencer was quick to retort.

"Of course, I wasn't going to let you leave me like that and then leave." you whisper in amusement, holding his face "You owe me.”

Spencer smiled at you, sweet, almost too sweet for the kind of look he gave you. Filled with desire, with something far, vastly stronger than you. His fingers groping the edges of your panties. Swiftly pulling them down to your ankles. You shuddered at the change in sensations, the gusts of wind setting your nipples on edge and his gaze fixed on your cunt enveloped you in a cloud too intense for your brain to function properly. He looked at you with dilated pupils, licked his lips slowly as if tasting you on it.

"I owe you, huh?" he said, pressing a kiss on your inner thigh. Then on the other. "I guess I should make it up to you, right? Is that what you want?"

You nodded frantically, but he bit down on a thin layer of skin and you gasped.

"Use your words, angel."

"I..." you doubted that your head could work correctly, his touch sent tingles through parts of your body unthinkable. "Fuck, Spencer. Just do it.”

"So desperate." he whispered, his tongue beginning to lick the wetness of your thigh. You swayed in response to the sensation, your back arching as your hands involuntarily moved up to your nipple, pinching and stimulating. You needed to feel him everywhere. It was disarming you. "Have you thought about this, do you think I don't notice when you look at me, when you sneak into my classes?”

He grabbed you by the knees and pulled you into his mouth with such speed that you didn't even have time to get used to the thrill. Fuck. His mouth was desperate, he licked your folds and his curls hide between your legs. You'd let him sleep right at dawn right there. You moaned his name so loud that you were thankful the music outside was so loud no one could hear, 'cause you needed that. You needed to scream how much you enjoyed it and when Spencer gasped in delight, your whole body jerked. A rough hand gripped your thigh, his thumbs pressing into your skin, holding you open just for him. To keep you from shivering. His tongue was relentless. He swirled with precision, sucked you with intensity and reserved kisses for your clit. You rolled your eyes and your hips followed in a back and forth motion over his mouth, surrendering yourself completely to the pleasure.

There was a heat swirling over your belly, over your bloated, hypersensitive center. You shuddered and Spencer hummed above you as you tightened his head making him bury himself in your pussy. You were drunk, it was vertiginous, too much to bear.

He pulled away slightly, his breathing ragged. You couldn't see him because he was still hiding between your legs but the image was projected in your head instantly. His lips glossy from your wetness, yearning for more. The fibers of his hair messy from your pulls "How did I not notice before that you are this beautiful?" he kissed one of your folds and your back flexed again. "That you taste so good…”

Your whole body jerked in pleasure as he sealed his lips on your clit. Sucking. Drinking. Opening his mouth wide and devouring every nerve of you like a starving man. As if you were his last entrée that he would hesitate to ravish for how exquisite it was. One hand came up and took away yours that was caressing your boobs, his now cold fingers closing on them. His hand was large. It went all the way around you and pressed your hard, overstimulated nipple between the middle of his fingers.

"Spencer," you moaned, your thighs trembling and his mouth devouring your cunt with vigor, "It's too much. Sensitive."

His mouth closed on you again, your hips still twitching at him. Pleasure engulfed you, your stomach contracted and you swore you saw nebulae and tiny stars the moment his tongue sucked slowly at your slit. It curved, it teased you, driving you to your limit.

"No, not yet" he groaned against your skin, but his fingers didn't falter for a single second. The bundle of stimulation cut your lungs out. "Just one, yes? Can you give it to me, angel?"

You barely nodded as he returned to devouring you. He wanted to take you to the last of your strength. Heat coiled in your stomach and your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Irregular beats that succumbed you in instant pleasure. His tongue licked in one last long line in your pussy that tore out a scream that you stifled by biting your lip. The release of your orgasm taking you elsewhere. You were trapped in ecstasy. Your limbs ached and you needed him more and more. His breath was warm as he pulled away and kissed your mons pubis, testing, seeing how much more you could take. It made your hair stood on edge.

"You had this well planned, hmm?" you whimpered in a murmur, feeling the sequels of your first orgasm shaking your body, "I bet you've thought about it too. About how good it would feel to have me in your hands, is that it? Did you want me so bad you couldn't do anything but imagine it?”

He growled in reply, and the sound made your blood rise. Time slowed down around you and for a moment you forgot there was a whole party going on outside. But all you could think about was that you had Spencer on his knees for you, his erection probably being too painful for him and yet he continued to kiss you and tasted all of your senses. The pressure of his lips was deep worship, in restrained cravings that would sooner or later explode into frenzy. Your head fell against the mirrored glass as now his fingers curved lightly to touch your cunt in search of more. He added a finger, then another, patiently opening you up. Your hips throbbed again from the overstimulation, your brow furrowing as he rose and began to spread kisses all over your face.

"You have no idea, I asked myself that every night I pretended I didn't care about you more than I should have." he murmured, his palm pressed against your clit and his bulge in his pants pressed against your thigh, in pursuit of a delicious friction you both needed. You were at his mercy completely. You lowered your head and rested your forehead on his shoulder, feeling his fingers move nimbly inside you. "And each time, the answer was yes. I wanted you so much that it hurts. Do you think you can give me one more, sweetheart?"

You nodded again and that sweet moan that came out of your mouth when he added a third finger made you see stars. Your eyes closed, you impaled yourself on his hand until you felt Spencer silencing as best he could his moans by stifling them with his own lips, still glistening from your arousal.

He continued touching you. Kissing you with ardor. And you questioned if you would have done this if you were both talking to each other instead of immediately deducing that you disliked each other. You were an idiot. Because from now on you didn't want to be in the hands of any man but Spencer. You didn't want to see another face. Neither did you want to go back to the normal course of your life when he had brought you to a point of no return that you never reached with anyone else.

"Just like that," he whispered, kissing that dangerous spot in the area of your racing pulse. Provocatively. "Fucking my hand. Gasping for me. You're so good. So beautiful. I can't get enough of you."

He bit back a slim layer of skin, and you moaned.

"Spencer..." you hissed, leaning your hips into him, "Fuck.”

You glimpsed his frown trying to concentrate on your own pleasure, but his hips bucked and he rubbed at your inner thighs, you could almost see some pre seminal liquid pouring out of his pants and the sight made you rush at his touch. His fingers curled, you grabbed him by the cheeks and kissed him as you bucked unconsciously and the surges of your second orgasm filled you up to your ears. Spencer gasped as you came in his hand, and he was precious. Beautiful, dark eyes, rosy cheeks and fully swollen, glowing lips. Your breaths hitched in unison as he pulled his hand away from you and you brushed back the strands of hair that clung to his sweaty forehead.

You give him a smile, tired, and his head does nothing but spin. At the need, at how good it felt to finally touch you and feel you collapse into him. At how masterful you perceived better than all the times he imagined what it would be like. A giggle escapes from his lips, pressing a kiss to your temple, his warm breath spreading over your skin, and his hand, almost by instinct, moved up your abdomen in a lazy rubbing tracing distracted circles. Now yours played with the hairs at the nape of his neck and you let yourself drift in the sweet silence surrounding you.

"Hmm," he whispered. "It took us longer to heal your wound."

You opened your mouth in an offended gesture, hitting him gently but you didn't have the strength for much. His body vibrated from his laughter, and you loved it. "I want to see you say that later. We'll see who gets the last laugh and it will definitely be me.”

Spencer looked at you with those deer-eyed eyes full of tenderness that your knees felt weaker. He left another soft kiss on your cheek and you hummed in delight at the gesture. Slipping your arms around his shoulders, hugging him. Melting into him.

"Whatever you say, angel." he said with his eyes closed. "We still have time."

It was as if the entire universe had shrunk to that instant. The feel of your skin against his effortlessly banishing everything you felt for him before. Of knowing he craved you as much as you craved him. His breath attached to yours, coupled in a quiet, slightly agitated rhythm, just enough to fill the bathroom with him.

You leaned your forehead against his shoulder, feeling the slow waves of his breathing, and for a moment you felt light. As if in that minuscule piece where nothing bad could reach you. As if he was the refuge you had always wanted to return to without knowing it.

"Do we have it?" you repeated softly, shyly, almost as a question to yourself.

Spencer nodded, his nose brushing against your temple."We have all the time in the world if you're with me.”

Your lips pursued his just because the words got stuck in your mouth, this time in a more chaste kiss. One that tasted of rest, of complicity. And your heart was beating so fast you could hear its beat rewinding in your ears.

"I like you so much," you murmured against his mouth, barely a whisper. "I reiterate that I'm concerned about all the effects you have on me.”

His hands traced slow figures on your back, the whisper of his voice lulling you low:

"Then let's be scared together. It's much safer for both of us, isn't it?"

And you did. You closed your eyes, sank into him... And, for the first time in a while, you didn't care what came next.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #divider by cafekitsune #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you

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free-slutt · 10 months ago

Text

𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙍 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

a/n: I'm currently awake at 4 am and unable to sleep ive been having some thoughts that I needed to release, and writing this is helping me feel better. this is my first time writing something explicit, so I apologize if it's not the best. please forgive any grammar mistakes. i hope you enjoy reading it. <3

summary: you are searching for a personal trainer and come across an online ad. after calling the trainer, he arranges a session at his home gym. things start to take a spicy turn between the two of you.

warning: smut! 18+ oral (m receiving), spanking, getting manhandled, fingering, pet names like “doll, babygirl” squirting, praising, degrading, rough!!

˖⋆࿐໋

when you move to california to pursue your dream of becoming a model or influencer, you leave behind your family, job, and friends. unfortunately, the move also means leaving behind your favorite place: the gym.

many label me a gym rat, but I simply embrace my love for the discipline it brings and the amazing confidence it gives me in everything I wear.

in the evening, while browsing through tiktok , i suddenly felt a wave of boredom. i let out a sigh, turned off my phone, and began searching for an engaging activity. normally, in situations like this, i would change into my favorite workout attire and head to the gym. however, as i am not at home, i need to find a gym or a personal trainer of my own in this new location.

i opened my macbook and started searching for personal trainers in my new area. I came across a profile of a man who seems to have a lot of experience in the gym and is conveniently located nearby. i must admit, he looks delicious. i decided to message him to arrange a meeting and inquire about his session rates. he responded promptly with his pricing and availability, and it turns out he's available tomorrow morning. as we exchanged goodbyes over text, my mind couldn't help but focus on meeting him in person. if I'm already feeling this way based on some online pictures, i can only imagine how I'll feel when we meet face to face.

i wake up suddenly to the sound of my alarm. as i pick up my phone, i see that it's 5:30. the familiar feeling of nervousness churns in my stomach as i realize that I'm in a new city, about to meet someone new. i made sure to wake up extra early just to ensure that i look my best.

after my shower, i breeze through my skincare routine and add a touch of mascara and some lip balm. I'm just heading to the gym, so nothing too over-the-top, i tell myself. i apply a light moisturizing lotion and a spritz of my favorite perfume. i slip into my matching black bra and thong, then into my sleek all-black workout set with cute black leggings and a fitted black tee. i slide on my nike socks and lace up my new balance 574’s. i brush my hair and secure it with a stylish claw clip, still debating whether to leave it down or tie it up. I'll make up my mind in the uber.

i send him a text to inform him that I'm on my way to the location he had sent me. he reads the message but doesn't reply. oh well, I'm on my way already.

as we pull into his driveway, i can't help but notice how stunning his house is. i wonder what he does for work; being in california, he must be wealthy or famous. i tip my uber driver in cash, thanking him for the ride, and he wishes me luck. I'm definitely going to need it.

i grab my phone out but before i can send him a text i hear a whistle which caught my attention i looked up seeing him standing next to his front door i can’t help but check him out and oh my goodness he’s more attractive in person i can just rip his clothes off right here and there but i have to remain calm im not here for that.

he is wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. his hair is lightly stuck to his forehead, indicating that he had a workout before I arrived.

“hey there” he smiles and waves signaling me to come in with his hand

i smile back and step into his house him standing behind me the whole time closing the door and walking towards me

"I'm nicholas, I'm your trainer. It's nice to meet you." oh my, his smile. his smile. his smile. I'm going to fold, i know I am, but I have to keep my calm. i don't even know him. i don't know if he's single or even married.

“hi, i’m y/n” i take his hand shaking it lightly

"come on, don't be shy," he takes us to his gym and confidently sits down on a bench, gesturing for me to sit next to him with a wave of his hand.

so demanding already.

“so tell me a little bit about yourself, i know you told me you just moved here but what’s the reason for the move and why are you looking for a trainer?” he asked curiously.

“well, i moved here to cali so it’ll be easier for me to achieve some of my goals, i have some experience in the gym but i really feel like ill learn a lot more with a trainer if that makes any sense” you smile shyly causing nicholas to chuckle a little.

“no need to be shy sweetie im here to help you you already look great im sure you’ll do a great job” i cross my legs just at the sound of his voice saying those loving praises, oh i need him so bad.

he notices but tries not to make it so obvious he grabs his water bottle taking a sip and putting down standing up tapping the side of my thigh gently “come on let’s get started”.

we begin with some easy stretches to warm up before the actual run. i couldn't help but notice that he mostly stood there, watching, instead of actively instructing and guiding me, which did bother me a bit.

“do an extended puppy pose for me” i look up at him and he just winks OH. he knows what he’s doing so i decide to play along as well.

as i get on all fours getting ready to get in the pose arching my back a little i can see nicholas from the side of my eye starting so hard i can’t help but silently giggle to myself.

“am i doing this good enough nicholas?? how’s my arch looking” he chuckles at my words a little.

“oh you’re doing so good y/n, you look amazing but i think you need a little help here” he comes down next to me getting on his knees right behind my ass and pushing my arch down so my stomach is hitting the floor beneath me.

“just like that?” I question.

“just like that, good girl” those words sent shivers down my spine i let out a soft sigh.

“what’s the matter sweetie?” he questioned.

i shake my head not responding to him “can we just do the next exercise?” i get on my knees so i can stand up but he comes in front of me putting one hand on my shoulder keeping me on my knees.

“let’s do some leg spreads i’ll help and guide you”.

i lay on the mat on my back and nicholas gets down on his knees again grabbing one of my legs bending it back a little.

“let’s start of slow sweetie i don’t want to hurt you”.

after doing a couple of reps nicholas stops and can’t help but notice something.

he chuckled “someone’s excited?”.

“what?” i ask not getting exactly what he’s talking about.

he spreads my leg a little further back.

“you’re so wet you’ve leaked through your panties it’s all on those leggings of yours”.

“i-im so sorry i-“ he cut me off.

“don’t worry about it doll, im having way more fun than you could possibly imagine” he bends down to kiss me and i went full in, tongue and everything.

after a few minutes of us making out he rips open my leggings with his bare hands which caused me to throw my head back and lightly groan, his eyes burning into my skull the whole time. never once taking those beautiful brown eyes off of me.

he pulls my panties to the side.

grabbing my mouth harshly “open and spit”.

i did as told, he sticks them in my mouth reaching the back of my throat causing to me gag.

he laughed and smiled “think you take all of my dick in there huh babygirl?”.

he pulled my panties to the side and started playing with me lightly flicking the clit and switching between fingering me and playing with my clit.

the groans escaping his mouth seemed a little animalistic like he hasn’t touched a woman in a very long time he’s eager and i can tell he wants to fuck me into the ground literally.

“mmm you’re so fucking wet, you’ve been excited since you got here hm? or was it those photos i sent you last night that has you like this for me? horny and ready to get fucked by her trainer? it’s only day one babygirl and here you are legs spread open pussy juice dripping all over my fucking fingers, what am i going to do with you”.

i moan loudly his words. his actions. the sounds. everything just feels and sounds so fucking good i didn’t want him to stop.

“oh im gonna come” i felt the urge to release the feeling you get in your stomach when you know your going to cum and go crazy “please dont stop nicholas”.

“such a fucking good girl” he kept pumping his big thick fingers in and out of me which caused me to release all over his gym floor.

“oh shit baby, look at you fuck” he says rubbing my clit on a fast pace, i grabbed his hand trying to get him to stop since it feels way to good to handle.

“please” he grabs my face and kisses me harshly shoving his tongue all down my throat saliva dripping down in between the both of us.

“come on take this off” he removes my shirt and bra taking off what’s rest of the leggings throwing it somewhere in the gym.

he takes his shirt and sweats off leaving him completely exposed no boxers or anything on, he knew what he wanted to do.

“come on baby get on your knees let’s see if you can fit this dick all in that pretty mouth of yours, gagging on two fingers. that’s pathetic sweetheart you got to do better than that”.

i get on my knees and take his member into my hand lightly kissing and licking his desperate throbbing dick leaking pre cum everywhere, i quickly take my tongue and clean up the mess he made.

“now this is a great mouth exercise for you pretty you’ll love it” he laughs and i roll my eyes member still in my mouth looking up at him not breaking eye contact.

“oh come on” he pushes my head down taking his whole dick into my mouth repeatedly touching the back of my throat i tap and grab on his thighs signaling i needed to breath and catch my breath, he threw his head back in pleasure looking back down grabbing my hair and pulling me off of his dick.

“told you you couldn’t take it”

“mmm stop let me do it” i pout he reaches his hand and cups my cheek and caressing my hair rubbing circles on the top of my head.

i grab his dick taking him all in and taking him out grabbing it and lightly jerking him off, as i continue to jerk him off i suck off what’s left that i couldn’t fit in my mouth.

“mm fuck”

“just like that baby”

“such a good fucking girl for me”

i take him in once again feeling him twitch making sure he’s hitting the back of my throat so i can swallow all of his sweet juices.

he grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail fucking my face at the perfect pace for him, he looks so good he can just take control and do what he wants at this point.

i feel him twitch again which means he’s super close this time he didn’t let me go he made sure he stayed in the back of my throat resting his cock in my mouth while he released all inside of my mouth.

“swallow that shit baby be a good fucking girl for me”

oh boy, this is just the first session i wonder what’s going to happen next time.

˖⋆࿐໋

#nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader

3K notes · View notes

cbeargyu · 3 months ago

Text

fOoL fOr YoU

beomgyu’s been in love with you since you were kids — even when you had your heart set on someone else. but he's just a fool for you.

pairing: childhood friend(?)!beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, one-sided love (but no really), high school au-uni au, unspoken feelings, first love energy, beomgyu simp, slow burn (slooow fr), second chances in soft light, beomgyu soft guy, fool for you by zayn = emotional backbone.

warnings: emotional angst, mention of unrequited love, a stolen kiss (consensual vibes unclear, followed by regret and confrontation), light jealousy, childhood heartbreak, healing arc included, soft cry-potential.

w/c: 7,2k

notes: hi!! thank you for reading this story, it means the world ♡ english isn’t my first language, so i hope you can forgive any grammar mistakes or weird phrasing — i’m still learning! i just wanted to share a soft, emotional story about loving someone for a long time… and being brave enough to tell them.

you met choi beomgyu when you were six.

he had braces and messy hair, and the loudest voice in the classroom. you were the quietest one in the back row, always too shy to speak, too nervous to raise your hand. but he found his way to you on the second day of school, sat beside you, and never left after that.

“you don’t have to talk,” he once whispered, sliding his lunch tray next to yours. “i’ll talk for both of us.”

and he did. for years.

you were always beside him—his little shadow. he dragged you into games, made excuses for your silences, defended you when someone called you weird. he was everything you weren’t: vibrant, chaotic, fearless. and in his whirlwind, you found a kind of safety. it was easier not to speak when someone was already speaking for you.

sometimes he even called you “my mini manager” because you always carried tissues, band-aids, or whatever he forgot to bring. and sometimes you called him “too much” when he danced in the rain or shouted your name across the hallway just to see you roll your eyes.

you didn't know when he fell in love with you.

maybe it was the day you held his hand after he scraped his knee, or the time you cried during a school play and he wiped your tears with his sleeve. maybe it was the time you laughed—really laughed—until your shoulders shook and your eyes disappeared into your cheeks, and he thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

he loved you in silence. he loved you in your quietest days, in your loudest ones. and he loved you when you started to pull away.

because that’s what happened, right?

somewhere between growing up and growing apart, you changed. you stopped waiting for him after class. you stopped answering his messages as quickly. you stopped sitting next to him during lunch.

you started focusing on your grades, on your future, on building a world where you didn’t need anyone to speak for you. not even him.

and beomgyu... he didn’t know how to follow you there.

you never told him why. you just slipped away—slowly, gently, but completely. and he didn’t stop you. he couldn’t.

he tried forgetting you. dated girls who laughed too loud, girls who wore your perfume, girls who were nothing like you and everything like you. he smiled in their selfies, whispered things in their ears, but none of it mattered.

because none of them were you.

"this love is tainted... but i need you..." he’d play that line on repeat in his room at night. headphones on. lights off. a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow.

"i’d move the earth, but only if you’d promise me you’re mine..."

he would’ve given you everything. but you were already gone.

and you? maybe you felt it. that quiet ache between you. that tension in the hallway when your eyes met. maybe there was a flicker of something, once. or maybe you just never looked back.

but for beomgyu, you were still the same girl who once held his hand and promised to sit beside him forever.

and no matter how many girls kissed him, no matter how wide he smiled— you were the only one he saw.

you were sixteen now.

last year of high school.

supposedly the year to collect memories, make decisions, fall in love... but you had done none of those things.

not that you cared.

you sighed when you saw kang taehyun—he looked handsome even when he was lost staring out the window. his foot tapped nervously on the floor, and just then, your eyes met. blood rushed to your cheeks and you quickly bowed, but almost tripped forward in the process. taehyun blinked in surprise at the sudden movement but didn’t say a word. he didn’t even flinch.

behind you, you heard choi beomgyu’s distinct laugh. of course, he was laughing at you. you clenched your fists in irritation.

beomgyu smirked arrogantly and walked into the classroom where taehyun was. you muttered a few curses under your breath, just loud enough for beomgyu to catch them. he laughed even louder, clearly amused. nothing in the world seemed to bother him—sometimes you wondered how you’d managed to put up with him all these years. after all, you’d known him since elementary school.

you had always been close. then, halfway through your second year, kang taehyun transferred into your lives—a shy boy with a soft voice and eyes that avoided yours. beomgyu was the first to speak to him, naturally. but the first time you saw taehyun, something clicked. your heart stuttered. since that moment, he became your silent crush.

unfortunately, your quiet nature, paired with taehyun’s shy behavior around girls, meant you never had the chance to get close to him the way beomgyu did. you often wondered how beomgyu made friends so easily, how he seemed to shine in every room, while you barely had anyone in your own class.

“lee y/n, someone’s looking for you!” called na jaemin from the doorway, one of your classmates. you turned your head instinctively—and there stood your older brother, lee juyeon.

“you forgot your breakfast. again,” he scolded softly, handing you a paper bag. you scratched the back of your head and looked up at him.

“mom worries about you, you know that, right? don’t make her sad, okay?” you nodded, feeling a little embarrassed.

“yo, juyeon!” beomgyu’s voice—forever annoying to your ears—rang out. he slapped your shoulder and bumped fists with your brother. “did y/nnie forget her breakfast again?” he asked, pouting in mock concern. juyeon chuckled, but you rolled your eyes.

“hey, beomgyu. yeah, she did,” juyeon laughed, then waved goodbye to both of you and walked off. you harshly brushed beomgyu’s hand off your shoulder and walked down the hallway without a word.

“free period’s almost over,” he reminded you, still standing where you’d left him.

“fine,” you replied flatly, not even glancing at him.

“fine,” he repeated in a teasing tone, falling into step beside you.

“don’t follow me, choi. i’m going to the bathroom.” you shot him a cold look, but he only shrugged and kept walking beside you anyway.

once you reached the restroom, you didn’t ask him to wait or say anything—you just walked in and disappeared behind the door.

you sighed deeply, overwhelmed. how long were you going to keep lying to yourself? maybe... maybe it was time to ask beomgyu to help you get closer to taehyun. but you just didn’t have the courage. you were sure he knew about your feelings. and yet... he’d never said anything.

at least you were good at hiding them. nobody ever teased you about it.

“beomgyu! say hi to taehyun from jinri!” a girl’s voice rang out from outside the restroom, and you froze in place in front of the mirror.

“oh, i will!” beomgyu laughed.

“hyejong, don’t yell!” another girl’s high-pitched voice joined in.

“why not? aren’t you happy you’re finally dating him?” your heart sank. you barely whispered an ‘oh’ and felt a sudden hollowness in your stomach. a lump formed in your throat.

so this is what heartbreak felt like. but why hadn’t you noticed it before? since when had taehyun been seeing someone? and who was that girl?

“you two are so shy, it’s adorable,” one of them giggled as beomgyu pinched her cheeks. “i hope you guys last long, you look so cute together.” you heard their footsteps fade. and suddenly... you felt betrayed. was she really better for him than you?

you stepped out of the restroom at last, your expression unreadable. beomgyu had just put his phone away and looked like he was about to say something, but you cut him off with a low, shaky voice.

“since when has taehyun been dating that girl?”

beomgyu paused, caught off guard by your question. he stayed silent for a moment. he knew. he knew how you felt. but taehyun... he didn’t feel the same.

a week had passed since you found out about taehyun’s relationship with jinri. the confirmation hit harder than the whispers ever did. unlike you, jinri was everything soft and easy to love—pretty in that gentle, unthreatening way, always smiling, always speaking just enough. she was younger, too. of course she was.

you hadn’t said a word about it to anyone. not to your classmates, not to your brother, and definitely not to beomgyu. you just... let it settle. like a bitter taste at the back of your throat you couldn’t spit out.

across the schoolyard, beomgyu watched you from his classroom window.

you looked so small, sitting alone on that bench, arms crossed tightly, face blank. but he knew you. he knew that blank look meant you were swallowing too much. the same way you always had—quiet and distant, like your silence would protect you from the ache in your chest.

he clenched his jaw. maybe taehyun never noticed you. maybe jinri had the smile and the laugh and the shine. but beomgyu had been there since your scraped knees and clumsy braids. he had loved you through all your seasons. and it still wasn’t enough.

"i'd move across the world for you," he thought bitterly. "but you wouldn’t even look sideways for me."

he tried—he tried so hard to play it cool, to let you come to him, to make you laugh again. but he was growing tired of being invisible in your world. a fool for you. always had been.

and yet, the part of him that still hoped—that still remembered the way you clung to him when you were little, how you used to hide behind his back when you were scared—wanted to scream. wanted to shake you out of that self-imposed exile and say, i’m here. it’s me. it’s always been me.

he exhaled sharply, the sound sharp in the silence of the classroom. you hadn’t moved from that bench, hadn’t even looked at the time. he narrowed his eyes. if he didn’t say something, you were definitely going to miss class.

he opened the window, not caring that the hallway was full of students now.

“yah, lee y/n! class is starting! don’t even think about skipping, i’m not waiting outside detention with you again!”

heads turned. yours included. your eyes widened in horror, and your face lit up red with embarrassment. you stood up immediately, shooting him a murderous glare that only made him smirk wider.

“mind your own business, choi!” you hissed, storming off toward the building. of course. he always pushed the wrong buttons. always said the wrong thing. always, somehow, made it worse.

he winced when you disappeared from view.

smooth, idiot.

you, meanwhile, were fuming. he always did this. always found a way to tear into your fragile calm and leave you feeling raw and exposed. you were already trying so hard not to spiral after hearing about taehyun and jinri. and now, choi—no, beomgyu—had to go and humiliate you like that?

your steps were fast and sharp on the tile. you could still feel the sting of people’s stares, the heat of shame crawling up your neck.

he knew. he knew you had feelings for taehyun. and he never said a damn word. never warned you. never tried to protect you from the fall.

the ache settled back into your ribs, heavier now. you didn’t cry—but you wanted to.

by the time you stepped into the classroom, mr. lim was walking in too. and of course, beomgyu was already seated, watching you with that stupid half-smile like he hadn’t just ruined your morning.

you avoided his eyes. didn’t even look his way. but beomgyu’s smile faltered.

because even if you ignored him—he’d still only ever have eyes for you.

you glanced sideways at your companion and let out an irritated huff.

"i told you i was going to walk you home, whether you like it or not," he said, half-laughing, half-serious. his sarcasm only stirred your frustration.

"i never asked for your company, choi," you snapped, clenching your fists. but something in his eyes made you falter—dark, intense, unreadable. you looked away and mumbled, "you can turn around and go home."

you pulled the red scarf tighter around your neck, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your face.

beomgyu didn’t answer. he simply stepped closer, close enough that you had to look up.

“y/n,” he called.

“hmph,” you answered, dryly.

"do you still feel something for taehyun?"

your breath caught in your throat. what the hell was he saying? why now?

“w-why do you care?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice trembling.

your cheeks burned, and you tried to cover them with your sleeve, avoiding his gaze, but his eyes were too much—sharp, searching, like he could see straight through you.

“no…” you whispered. It was a lie, and a poor one. the truth was still tangled up inside of you. that flicker of hope hadn’t quite died out, and it made you feel pathetic.

beomgyu chuckled softly and lowered his head. you caught a glimpse of his smile, and for some reason, it made you uneasy.

“what’s so funny, idiot—?”

“that you still haven’t realized how i feel about you.”

the world went silent.

your heart felt like it stopped mid-beat. you blinked, trying to process what he had just said. no, it had to be your imagination.

he didn’t just—

“i’ve waited so long to say this. it hurts watching you break for someone else, when i’d give you everything,” he said, voice rising, hands trembling slightly as he placed them on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t hurt you, y/n. i’d hold all your broken pieces if you let me. i just don’t get it—why can’t you see me?”

your mouth opened, but nothing came out. he looked at you like he was falling apart in front of you. and you? you were frozen. paralyzed by fear, by shock, by the weight of what he just confessed.

and then—he kissed you.

his hands wrapped around your back, pulling you into him. his lips were warm, desperate, trembling like his heart had been waiting for this moment for years. you didn’t know what was happening until it was already happening. your stomach flipped violently. your skin crawled.

the contact was strange, as if the kiss wasn’t coming from the person you thought you knew. beomgyu, your friend, your companion for life, who had always been there… now he was kissing you without warning, without any preamble, as if everything you shared until that moment meant nothing more to him. without thinking, you tried to pull away. at first, it wasn’t just the physical struggle—there was confusion, disorientation. you wanted to reject it, but his hold on you felt too firm.

you shook your head, trying to push away, but he was stronger—too strong—and the kiss kept going, too long, too sudden. too much.

you slapped him.

hard.

it was the only way to get him off, to create a boundary that was never supposed to be crossed.

it echoed in the stillness.

he stumbled back slightly, one hand on his cheek, eyes wide—not from the pain, but from the heartbreak.

your own hands trembled. you looked at him with wet eyes, unsure when exactly the tears had started falling.

"why… why would you do that?" you whispered, your voice broken, fragile.

he stumbled back, his eyes wide, his breathing ragged as he stared at you. but the pain wasn’t just in his gaze; it was in your chest too. you were shaking, not sure what was worse: the fact that your body had reacted to him at all, or the betrayal that this moment felt like. he knew you were in love with taehyun, and yet, he kissed you anyway. you felt small. you felt exposed. it wasn’t just about the kiss—it was everything that came with it. the confusion. the vulnerability. the fear that your friendship had been nothing but a disguise for something much more painful and unspoken.

beomgyu didn’t respond right away. he just looked at you. his breathing was uneven, lips parted. then, in a voice that cracked in the middle:

"because i’m a fool for you. a damn fool for all the things you do.”

your chest tightened.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. you didn’t know what you felt, you couldn’t understand anything—not his words, not his kiss, not your own tears. the glass wall you’d built around your heart, the one you’d spent years reinforcing, was beginning to shatter—and that terrified you more than anything.

because maybe, just maybe… you weren’t as indifferent as you pretended to be.

but right now, all you could do was cry.

in the following days, you withdrew into yourself. it wasn’t just the kiss that haunted you—it was everything that came after it. the uncertainty, the disarray of emotions, and the feeling of being exposed in a way you never had before. you tried to bury yourself in your studies, bury yourself in any distraction that would keep your mind off what had happened. you couldn’t even look at beomgyu without feeling an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. it was as though the world had tilted in a direction you hadn’t been prepared for, and now you couldn’t figure out how to get back to where you were before.

beomgyu, on the other hand, seemed to be in a constant battle with himself. he tried to reach out to you, to apologize, but each time you saw him, the weight of what he had done was too much for you to bear. he wanted to explain himself, to tell you it wasn’t meant to hurt you, but the guilt was eating away at him. his usual confidence, the one that made him so easy to talk to, had been replaced with an anxious, almost desperate energy.

one afternoon, as you sat alone in the library, you felt the familiar presence of beomgyu standing behind you. you could tell he had been following you for a while, hoping to catch your attention. you didn’t look up immediately, not wanting to face the reality of his gaze on you.

“y/n…” his voice was quieter than usual, carrying a softness that you weren’t accustomed to. “i need to talk to you.”

you didn’t respond, pretending to focus on the book in front of you. the silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry,” he continued, his voice laced with regret. “i don’t even know what i was thinking… i never meant to make you feel that way. i just—”

“stop.” you finally looked up, locking eyes with him. the expression on his face made your heart ache, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel sorry for him. “why did you do it? why did you kiss me, knowing… knowing how I feel about taehyun?” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the vulnerability you had been trying so hard to suppress. “why did you make me feel like i don’t even know who you are anymore?”

beomgyu’s face contorted with pain. “i—” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m a fool. i knew how you felt about taehyun, but… i just couldn’t help it. i’ve been carrying these feelings for so long, and when i saw you with him… i felt like i couldn’t hold back anymore. i thought… maybe, if i kissed you, things would change. that you’d finally see me. but now, i realize… i’ve only made everything worse.”

his words hit you like a punch to the stomach. the ache in your chest deepened, but it wasn’t just the pain of the kiss. it was the weight of everything that had been left unsaid, all the years of unspoken feelings, and now it was spilling out in a mess of confusion and regret.

you stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you walked away from him. you couldn’t stay there any longer. his presence, so close, was making it harder to breathe.

“i don’t know what you want from me, beomgyu,” you said, your voice trembling. “but i don’t know if i can forgive you for this. not yet.”

beomgyu didn’t move. he watched you walk away, his face contorted in pain. but deep down, he knew that the kiss—no matter how much it had meant to him—had been a mistake. and now, the distance between you felt like an insurmountable wall. he had ruined it all, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

as you disappeared from his sight, beomgyu slumped against the table, his heart heavy with guilt. “i’m such a fool,” he whispered to himself, knowing there was no easy way out of this mess he had created. the worst part wasn’t the rejection—it was realizing that he had lost you, and he couldn’t undo the damage. the realization that the kiss, that stolen moment, was the start of something he wasn’t sure he could repair.

and you, as you walked away, couldn’t escape the memory of the kiss either. it was your first kiss, yes, but it was so wrong, so stolen, that the idea of it left you reeling. you had never expected something like that from him—your friend, the one who had always been there, the one you had trusted more than anyone else. and yet, here he was, breaking that trust with something impulsive and unthoughtful.

but still, despite your confusion, your heart raced every time you thought about it, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips. and that, more than anything, scared you.

you sat at your desk, half-focused on the homework spread out in front of you. the room was quiet except for the faint scratching of your pen and the occasional sound of cars passing outside your window. your mind kept drifting back to the kiss, to beomgyu’s face when you walked away, to the way his voice cracked when he said your name. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t push it all out.

you didn’t even hear the door open.

“yo,” juyeon said casually as he stepped inside, holding a small stack of old manga volumes in his hands. “found these in the garage. they’re yours, right?”

you blinked and looked up. “uh… yeah,” you said, recognizing the familiar covers. they were pastel-colored, all romance manga you’d devoured in middle school—full of blushing confessions, accidental kisses, and dramatic love triangles. you had forgotten they even existed.

he placed them on your desk, flipping one open as he sat on the edge of your bed. “beomgyu lent you these, didn’t he?”

you nodded slowly. “a long time ago…”

juyeon hummed, flipping through the pages with vague interest. something thin fluttered out from between the pages and drifted to the floor. both of you watched it land.

it was a folded piece of lined notebook paper, yellowed at the edges.

he picked it up before you could react. “what’s this?” he asked, already unfolding it.

“wait, juyeon—” you reached out, but he had already begun reading. his eyes scanned the page, then his eyebrows lifted. a low whistle left his mouth.

“wow. this punk really had it bad for you.”

you felt your heart stop. “what are you talking about?”

he grinned, holding up the letter dramatically. “this is the most cringe, over-the-top, middle-school love confession i’ve ever seen. do you want me to read it out loud or—”

“no!”

he chuckled and handed it to you. you hesitated before taking it, then looked down at the handwriting you immediately recognized.

dear y/n,

i know this is really lame but i wanted to write it down because i get nervous around you and my brain forgets words when you’re looking at me. i think i’ve liked you since the first grade. you never talked much, but i always noticed you. you’d sit alone during recess with your books, and i always wanted to sit next to you… i thought, “she’s the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

i like everything about you. the way you tie your shoes weird, the way you always read manga under your desk during math, even when you get mad at me for not finishing group projects. i don’t know if you’ll ever like me back, maybe you’ll think i’m weird, or annoying. but it’s okay. i just wanted to tell you. you make my chest feel warm.

please don’t hate me.

sincerely, beomgyu

you stared at the letter, your fingers tightening slightly as you held it. something in your chest shifted. it wasn’t just what the letter said—it was the fact that he’d written it. that he’d felt that way for so long. and you never knew. or maybe you did, and you just never let yourself see it.

“he’s been following you around since you were like six” juyeon said with a shake of his head. “remember when he showed up to your piano recital with a bouquet of dandelions? or when he joined your library club even though he hates reading?”

you did remember. and more kept coming to you. the way beomgyu would wait for you after class, even when his friends left. how he’d always give you the last snack in his lunchbox. how he’d look away quickly when you caught him staring.

you looked down at the letter again, your heart beating unevenly.

“he’s always been like a little puppy, wagging his tail just to get a smile from you, always looking at you with that goofy grin like you hung the moon. i’m pretty sure this kid’s been in love with you for ages.” juyeon added, standing up and stretching. “anyway, you’re too young to have a boyfriend. so don’t get any ideas.”

the words hit you like a truck. your mind reeled. you thought back to all those moments with beomgyu—the small gestures, the times he’d gone out of his way just to make you laugh or cheer you up, the way his eyes would soften whenever he looked at you. you had always thought it was because he was your friend, because he cared. but now, seeing it all in this letter... hearing juyeon’s words... it made you realize that it was more than that. It had always been more.

you closed your eyes, trying to process the weight of what you were feeling. was it possible that beomgyu had been in love with you all this time? and if he had been, how could you have been so blind?

he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

you sat there in silence, the letter still in your hands. it felt like something had cracked open inside you, a dam holding back years of memories you’d brushed aside.

you leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions that were suddenly flooding your mind. beomgyu had liked you for years. he had kept this hidden, carried it in silence all this time. but now, everything had changed. the kiss... his confession... it was all so sudden. so overwhelming.

you thought about beomgyu's voice. the way he said your name. how he looked at you like you were his whole world—even when you were ignoring him, even when you were in love with someone else.

you thought about the kiss again. how wrong it was. how confusing. but also… how fast your heart had been beating afterward. how your lips had tingled. how you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he held your face so gently, like you were something delicate he couldn’t believe he was touching.

you pressed your fingers to your lips, your breath catching in your throat.

your heart pounded in your chest. beomgyu had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, and now, the weight of his feelings was crashing down on you. you felt so... confused. part of you was angry that he hadn’t said anything sooner, that he had kept it all inside. another part of you, though, felt a strange pull toward him—one you didn’t know how to understand or accept.

you ran a hand through your hair, your mind spinning.

could you ever look at him the same way again? was there a chance, even a small one, that you could feel the same way about him? or would this change everything between you two?

your emotions were all over the place. you hadn’t even realized how much you had come to depend on beomgyu—his presence in your life, the way he made everything seem easier. the thought of him being in love with you, all these years... It made your stomach twist, your heart ache in a way that was difficult to explain.

for now, though, you needed time. time to process everything, time to figure out how you truly felt, and time to understand what this all meant. but for the first time, you couldn’t deny that there was something deeper between you and beomgyu, something that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface.

the spring air was soft that afternoon. petals floated lazily from the cherry trees scattered across the school courtyard, painting the sky in shades of pink and white. under one of them, you sat alone, your notebook resting forgotten on your lap, eyes lost in the distance.

the gentle crunch of footsteps over grass made you turn your head.

“hey,” beomgyu said quietly, his voice hesitant but kind. “mind if i sit?”

you gave a small nod, heart skipping a beat the moment he lowered himself beside you. neither of you spoke for a few seconds, letting the silence settle like dust on your skin. the breeze swept between you, carrying a whisper of unspoken things.

the silence stretched between you, filled only by birdsong and the rustling of leaves. your heart wouldn’t calm down. It hadn’t, not since that moment — your first kiss. stolen. wrong. but... your chest still fluttered every time you remembered it. no one had ever looked at you the way he did in that moment. no one had ever felt like that.

“i… i found the letter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. offering the old note with a small, unsure smile.

beomgyu froze slightly beside you.

“in the manga you lent me,” you clarified. “it fell out when my brother opened one.”

his cheeks flushed instantly, the tips of his ears turning red. he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “wow. that’s… old.”

you smiled softly, despite everything. “you were thirteen.”

he groaned into his hands. “oh god, i was so lame back then.”

“it was sweet,” you said honestly. “kind of cheesy. a lot dramatic. but sweet.”

his eyes met yours — full of that soft, scared, vulnerable look he always gave you when his guard was down.

“i'm sorry,” he said suddenly. “for the kiss. for not asking. i shouldn’t have done that.”

you looked away, biting your lip. “i was shocked. and confused. I still am. but i don’t… hate that it happened.”

he blinked. “you don’t?”

you shook your head. “it was wrong… but it made me realize how much i never saw. how long you’ve felt like this. how many times you tried to show me, and i just… i never noticed.”

beomgyu took a shaky breath. his voice was softer now, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard.

“i’ve been in love with you since I was six,” he said, eyes on his hands. “back when you beat me at every single math test and made fun of my hair. i thought, ‘she’s so annoying’... and then i just wanted to be around you all the time. so I became annoying too, just so you'd keep looking at me.”

you laughed — gently, quietly, your cheeks warming. he smiled too.

“i used to count how many times you laughed in a day,” he continued, his voice trembling. “i memorized your schedule just so i could pass you in the hallway. every group project, i fought to be with you. i learned your coffee order. i even started watching that boring drama you liked just to talk about it with you.”

he chuckled to himself, glancing at you with the fondest eyes you’d ever seen.

“do you remember that time in middle school when i stayed outside in the rain because you forgot your umbrella and I wanted to walk you home?”

you nodded slowly.

“you told me it was stupid.”

“it was,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “you caught a cold the next day.”

“still worth it.”

the wind picked up again, swirling a few petals around the two of you. one landed gently on your hair, and beomgyu reached over instinctively to brush it away. his hand lingered for a second longer than it needed to. your cheeks deepened in color.

“i know you don’t feel the same,” he whispered, his voice more serious now. “or maybe not yet. and that’s okay. i don’t need anything from you. just… having this moment, sitting here with you, getting to say all of this out loud—it’s enough. you make me feel like the dumbest person alive, y/n. but in the best way.”

you blinked, your throat suddenly tight.

“i’ve waited a long time to tell you,” he added. “and i'd wait again, even if it takes forever.”

you didn’t know what to say.

there were still so many thoughts swirling inside you—confusion, memories, flickers of warmth you hadn’t let yourself fully feel until now. but somehow, sitting there under the tree, next to beomgyu and the scent of spring in the air, it didn’t feel so scary. it felt... safe.

he smiled faintly. “being around you, even if i was annoying you or just carrying your bag or letting you copy my notes… that was the best part of my days. i think i’ve always kind of lived around you.”

you looked at him then, truly looked. his hair danced slightly with the breeze, and there was that same gentle, vulnerable expression you’d seen a few times before—once when he waited outside your house for hours in the rain just to walk you to school, once when he defended you during a class presentation when someone laughed at your pronunciation, once when he silently passed you his scarf because he noticed your hands were shaking from the cold.

“i didn’t mean to ignore how you felt,” you murmured. “and i’m sorry for not noticing. the letter… it was really beautiful. it made me feel something. i’m still figuring out what that is.”

he looked down, his voice quiet but full of everything. “i don’t expect you to feel the same. not now, maybe not ever. but… just being able to say it out loud—to tell you that you’ve always been the person i looked for in every room, every morning, every second—it makes me feel like i’m not hiding anymore. even if i still feel like a fool when you smile at me.”

you smiled then, small but real, and maybe a little breathless. your heart beat just a little louder in your chest, not in panic, but in something unfamiliar and warm.

“you’re not a fool,” you said softly. “not even close.”

he turned to you, hopeful, and for a second, time stilled. no confessions, no promises—just two hearts, slowly inching closer under a cherry tree, learning how to speak the same language.

later that night, you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the pale moonlight poured through your window, casting long shadows across your room. your chest felt heavy, like it was full of fluttering things—tiny, delicate, impossible to catch.

you hadn’t been able to focus on anything since you got home. not homework, not music, not even the manga you used to love reading before bed.

his words played on a loop in your mind.

“you’ve always been the person i looked for in every room.”

you hugged your pillow tightly.

why did it feel like your heart was trying to tell you something, and you just weren’t ready to listen?

you remembered his voice, the nervous laugh he let out when he brought up cherry, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you—like you were something he didn’t believe he deserved to hold.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, frozen in your thoughts, until a sudden knock on your door pulled you back to reality.

“y/n,” juyeon peeked in, a plate of fruit in one hand and that familiar annoying-smile-slash-big-brother look on his face. “you’ve been super quiet. thought maybe you got possessed.”

you rolled your eyes. “thanks for the concern.”

he walked in anyway, setting the plate down beside you and sitting at the edge of the bed. “so… you and lover boy talked, huh?”

you blinked. “what?”

“beomgyu. don’t act clueless.” he chuckled. “he looked like a kicked puppy when he came to class earlier, and now he looks like a puppy that got a pat on the head.”

“we talked,” you admitted, voice low.

juyeon just smirked knowingly. “did you kiss again?”

“juyeon!” you threw a pillow at him, cheeks flaming.

he dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “okay okay, sorry! i’m just saying—if i didn’t know better, i’d think you’re starting to fall for him.”

you didn’t reply.

because maybe, just maybe… he wasn’t wrong.

when juyeon finally left, muttering something about “teenage romance being a disease,” you sat up and pulled open your drawer. you reached for that letter—the one from years ago, folded unevenly, still smelling faintly of pencil and dust.

"dear y/n, i don’t really know how to say this, so i’m writing it instead. i think you’re the prettiest girl in the whole school, maybe in the whole world. even when you’re mad at me or call me annoying. i like you. i’ve liked you since the day you shared your umbrella with me in sixth grade. i didn’t know someone could make my heart beat that fast. even if you don’t like me back, i just wanted you to know."

your fingertips brushed over the words.

you were so young back then. so was he. but the way he felt—those words—felt so pure it almost hurt.

and now, all these years later, his feelings hadn’t changed.

your heart clenched.

you didn’t know what to call this thing blooming inside you, but it felt like spring.

slow and delicate.

a new beginning.

then, you were twenty-four.

the late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the campus café, casting soft golden hues over the small table where beomgyu sat, one leg crossed over the other, hands lazily wrapped around a warm cup of tea. soobin sat across from him, his brows lifted in curiosity, and yeonjun was leaning forward, utterly hooked.

“so you’re telling me,” yeonjun said, incredulous, “you were in love with her since middle school?”

“since i was six,” beomgyu said with a nostalgic grin, his gaze distant, lips curling faintly as if the memory still made his heart flutter. “i wrote her a letter once. stuck it inside one of my old romance mangas i’d lent her. never told her about it. i figured she’d never find it.”

“but she did,” soobin said, connecting the dots. “and then what happened?”

beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle, fingers tapping absentmindedly on his cup. “then everything changed. slowly. painfully. beautifully.” he paused for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. “i think that was the first time she really saw me.”

“damn,” yeonjun muttered, shaking his head. “and you stayed friends all that time? with all those feelings?”

“we weren’t just friends,” beomgyu said cryptically, his eyes twinkling. “but we weren’t anything else, either. not for a while.”

beomgyu gave a small laugh, fingers combing through his hair as he stared up at the sky, a smile creeping in despite himself. “there was a time,” he added, voice softening, “when she was in love with my best friend. taehyun. i hated it. not because taehyun was a bad guy — he wasn’t. he was kind, steady... everything i wasn’t. but watching her cry over him, watching her choose him over and over without even realizing it... it broke me. one day, when she was hurting the most, i kissed her. not because she asked, not because she was ready — but because some stupid part of me thought it would fix everything. that maybe, if she felt what i felt, she’d finally see me.” he paused, swallowing hard. “but all it did was push her further away.”

both soobin and yeonjun were quiet for a moment. the weight of the story settled between them like the end of a song. soobin looked over with a new kind of softness in his eyes. “but you’re still talking about her like she’s everything.” said soobin.

“she is,” beomgyu said, without missing a beat. “she always has been.”

“you’re killing me, man,” yeonjun laughed. “what happened next? did she ever feel the same?”

before beomgyu could answer, a soft voice called from behind.

“gyuya!”

the moment the nickname hit the air, his entire demeanor shifted. he straightened immediately, turning around with the most radiant expression either of his friends had ever seen. you stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair tousled from the wind, a small, tired smile curving your lips.

“baby,” he said, voice drenched in affection as he rose to his feet and wrapped you in a quick, tight hug before kissing your cheek without hesitation. “you made it.”

you chuckled, squeezing his hand as you looked at the two boys staring at you, mouths half-open.

“guys, this is y/n,” beomgyu said, still not letting go of your hand. “she’s the one i was telling you about.”

“oh,” soobin said, eyes wide, trying to process what just happened. “oh.”

“wait— you— you’re together?” yeonjun asked, pointing between you and beomgyu like he was witnessing the plot twist of a k-drama.

you laughed, taking the seat next to beomgyu as he dropped down beside you, still holding your hand like it was something sacred. “we’ve been together for a while,” you said, resting your chin on your hand. “since before college, actually.”

“how do you survive the long-distance?” soobin asked, still stunned.

“it’s not easy,” beomgyu said, turning his gaze to you, eyes soft. “she’s studying economics at hanyang, i’m in the music program here… our schedules almost never match. but we make it work.”

“worth it,” you added quietly, glancing at him, your expression full of something deeper than words.

the boys watched in awe as beomgyu leaned into you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing yours.

“so... all those years,” yeonjun said slowly. “all that pining... paid off.”

beomgyu smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “every second of waiting. every stupid joke. every heartbreak.”

outside, the sky was shifting into twilight. the world felt slower, softer, suspended in something warm and right.

later, as you leaned against beomgyu’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion, he whispered into your hair, “i was such a fool for you.”

you smiled sleepily. “you still are.”

and god, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

685 notes · View notes

nymphea0 · 10 months ago

Text

Kurkans Mate.

Beast and his mate.

Yan! Ishakan x Reader

Part 1.

Manhwa :약��혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Halloo is neva again, is beens longs i had no post any story TvT... well i had some busy stuff to do, so hope you all forgive me.

And this first my series Manhwa chara, soons will be much chara came out, so stay alwalys love🦋🦋.

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋��

Fire, blood and corpses'

is a view from a small village in the far west which has unspoiled natural beauty.

However, all of that was damaged when an invasion from a foreign continental kingdom came into conflict with another kingdom, resulting in several villages being affected by the conflict.

Day and night only the sound of screams, sadness, wrath, and much more, the beautiful village has become a sea of blood of innocent people.

Village of a thousand nights, a village for nature people which has a million cultures and also unbeatable beauty. village for the Antrabeth race.

Hair is blue as bright as the sky, the brighter and smoother the hair, the higher the inner bond with nature.

They are a closed people, living in a mountainous environment covered by forests and sunlight. However, their blood is their curse, the anthrabeth race is famous for their blood which can cure all diseases for those who drink the blood and also the blood of those who seek a long, eternal life.

The Antrabeth race is the enemy of the witch and the kurkans, the witch really like experimenting and some stuff unormalize thing and the kurkans believe that marrying an antrabeth race will produce invincible offspring.

However, the world thinks that the Antrabeth Tribe is just a myth, because their existence cannot be proven.

The stomping of feet and gasping for breath were silent witnesses in the night.

You, running with your aunt, managed to survive the post-war tragedy between the neighboring kingdom and the kingdom where you live.

The war between these two kingdoms caused damage to small villages, one of which was Antra village, a village for the Antrabeth tribe.

You and your aunt Reane are running from the pursuit of knights from an enemy kingdom who are ordered to kill women and kill men for blood.

Entering the border of the dense forest, your aunt stopped running, you who were running beside her also stopped, your breath was short, with the throbbing of blood flowing very quickly.

Your aunt could only stare at you sadly as you pressed your foreheads together.

"Run, nephew, don't let them catch you!" Your aunt's voice shook violently, ordering you to run as if this was a goodbye.

"What do you mean aunt?! We'll be safe, okay?" Enough lives have been lost tonight! I don't want to lose you too auntie!!." With a voice shaking with sadness you rejected your aunt's idea as if asking you to run.

"Don't be stupid!, they won't stop chasing us until one of us died. Listen nephew, the antrabeth tribe, our family is on the verge of extinction because of our blood, you have to run, save yourself."

"But auntie?! I can't!" you could only cry as your aunt pushed you hard.

"Run, don't let they catch you!" That was the last sound of your aunt running against the current, the voices of the enemy kingdom's knights shouting with a joyful hum as if they had caught a good catch.

You could only stare at the light of the torches and the sound of the horses' stampedes that were getting louder and louder. disappear. Your aunt, has been captured by the enemy knights.

Certainly, once they get your aunt's blood, your aunt will be killed just like that.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you can only run forward, entering the forest deeper, the dark forest with the sound of animal sounds and moonlight are the only things that accompany your sad night.

Running with all your might you can only feel deep sadness, your mother and father were killed cruelly when your father and mother tried to save you, the inhabitants of the antrabeth tribe, the men were killed very cruelly, the women women and children were also killed old and young.

They only seek 1 thing, blood, the blood of the antrabeth tribe against the laws of nature, blood that can give long life like eternity and can cure all kinds of diseases.

Your blue hair is tangled, many leaves and twigs that's caught in your hair, the sweat that sticks to your forehead, the roar of your heart beating so fast that it adds to your running adrenaline.

Until your body is at the very high threshold because of tiredness from running and pushing yourself too hard, you stumble and fall, you faint on the mossy ground lit by the moon and surrounded by trees.

A thin mist covers your figure lying pitifully, as if nature is afraid if there is who tries to hurt you again.

Just when your eyes are almost completely closed, you see the silhouette of an old woman looking at you sympathetically. Until total darkness envelopes you.

A young woman with her hands and feet covered in bandages to heal abrasions, lay weakly and helplessly on an old mattress that had not been used for a long time.

An old woman slowly wiped the dirt that covered the body of the young woman who was lying weakly.

In a soft voice the woman said

"What in seven hells did this poor girl actually experience?"

After cleaning the young woman, the old woman put on a long, soft nightgown.

Carrying a tray carrying a small bucket of murky water and a dirty towel.

Walking slowly, closing the bedroom door gently, leaving the young woman to rest.

The sound of birds chirping melodiously decorated the beautiful morning in the middle of the dense forest.

Rays of light entered the slightly open window and illuminated a woman resting peacefully on the bed.

Frowning slowly, you opened your eyes slowly but surely, blinking to adjust your vision.

You see a room with minimalist furniture and decoration, with a very pungent smell of dust entering your respiratory tract.

Slowly waking up you look around, wondering who saved your life.

Then you slowly pull aside the blanket that covers your body, staring in shock, your hands and feet are covered with bandages that have a strong herbal aroma.

When you are about to get out of bed and try to stand up you fall onto the wooden floor, making a fairly loud sound.

'Dug'

The sound of quite heavy footsteps can be heard outside this room.

You who fell could only look towards the closed wooden door, until the door opened, indicating that someone had opened it.

There you see an elderly woman, her hair has white strands, skin that is no longer young, with a slightly hunched body.

"Why are you getting out of bed?!, you are not fully recovered!"

Walking slowly, the woman helps you to sit on the bed.

With a still weak voice, you asked the woman.

"Are ... you the one who saved me?"

The woman just nodded her head.

"My name is Esmera" the woman introduced herself as Esmera.

You also introduced yourself to her.

"You're from the Antrabeth tribe, right?" Emsera asked while gently stroking your bright blue hair.

You looked at her warily, thinking that Esmera might have saved you with another intention.

"Don't worry, I don't need your blood, this is just the first time for me to see the Antrabeth tribe directly."

Esmera, the old woman just chuckled softly seeing your confused face, while sitting slowly beside you she said.

"The Antrabeth tribe, everyone on the entire continent thinks that you are just a myth."

You could only stare in confusion, if the Antrabeth tribe is just a myth, why does the enemy kingdom know the existence of the Antra village?

You think, for the first time you finally realize one thing... the antrabeth tribe is a tribe that is close to nature, a village of a thousand nights, a village covered in thick fog and located in a dense forest, how could the enemy kingdom find the village where you live.

Many questions crossed your mind.

"I don't know what happened to you, , but from what I know, your presence can endanger you.".

You who were confused asked Esmera why that was.

The old woman just sighed while looking at you she said.

"Your tribe has not appeared on several common continents for more than 100 years, just your appearance is enough to shake the world."

You could only be silent hearing Esmera's words.

Then when you were about to speak, Esmera cut you off first.

"You are even more unsafe once you meet the Kurkans."

You who have been living in the depths of the forest just stared confusedly and chanted the name of the Kurkan tribe, asking Esmera what Kurkan is.

"Kurkans, are a tribe that has an extraordinary appearance and physical strength and is very strong, they are more often known as barbarians."

"In short, Kurkans will make you a partner if they find you, they are famous for kidnapping partners they choose through their animal blood instincts"

"The Kurkans consider partners important, and if they have acknowledged them as their partners, they will kidnap the person they consider to be their partner, forced or not, they will not let go of the partner they choose easily".

You just stared at Esmera who was busy checking the wounds on your hands and feet.

You then told me about what you experienced, the war, and the massacre.

Esmera looked at you sadly, the woman did not expect the tribe that was thought to be a myth to disappear overnight.

"Of course .... maybe you are the only one left"

Patting your shoulder, Esnera said.

"Let's change your hair and eyes first, because your hair and eyes are the most striking."

That afternoon you passed by trying to walk slowly.

Esmera is a witch, you as an antrabeth tribe know from the elders to stay away from witches, especially dark witches. At first you were quite afraid of Esmera, but Esmera assured you that she had retired, because Esmera is a natural witch, a witch who guards this forest, the same forest where you fell, the same forest where you will live with Esmera.

Witches have many types, but the most famous are dark witches, because they like to hang their victims from trees, create blood rain, during the blood moon and legal witches usually have the ability to hypnotize their victims and do what they want.

And Esmera is a natural witch, a witch who is usually tasked with guarding a forest or natural environment, and they are witches with a retirement age, when they are 40 years old, they are required to retire, in short like that.

But you remain vigilant, because you have only just met Esmera not long ago.

It's been 3 months since the incident you experienced before, now you live with Esmera, the woman is willing to take you in, because Esmera also said that sometimes she lives lonely, even though there are forest animals that accompany her.

Your hair and eyes have been changed by Esmera with a potion of drops, just 1 drop is enough.

Your bright blue hair and galaxy-colored eyes have changed to black and brown.

At first you were not used to it, but the effect of this potion only works for 5 hours, Esmera said to use this potion in certain conditions, such as going to the market or when you are being chased by something that could harm you.

In the afternoon, as usual, you explore the forest with 1 white ferret and a wild deer. Of course you are in disguise, even though this forest is protected by Esmera's magic, you still have to be careful.

Walking enjoying the forest with your two friends on the path you usually take, only to find a man covered in a robe holding his injured stomach.

You who can't see injured people unconsciously approach the man,

"Hello?" you were surprised almost tripping when the man's face appeared in front of you, a handsome face, very exotic brown skin, and... his eyes that had a sharp structure that was bright gold shining.

You have never seen someone with such bright and beautiful eye color, unfortunately you are not aware that your eyes are also very bright and beautiful.

This is the first time you have interacted with someone other than Esmera and the Antrabeth Tribe, and you also don't know who this man is? And from what tribe. That doesn't matter, what's important now is to heal this man and ask him to leave here immediately.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" A harsh and mocking tone.

You don't like this man, okay face, very bad character. But you have the instinct to help others, obviously you won't let this man go just like that.

"I'll help you, in return please get out of here quickly."

The man just looked at you with a suspicious look, but he wasn't as rude as before.

You realized that Esmera would be here soon, and this man might die, because Esmera has a rule that men are destroyers, and they are not allowed to enter this forest.

You think of a quick way, 1 drop of your blood is enough to heal this man's wounds.

"Can you open your mouth?" Asking in a soft and friendly tone. You were only answered with a rough and arrogant voice again, seriously you are now thinking why is this man so arrogant and rude?.

"Why should I open my mouth?! My wound is in my stomach, not in my mouth!".

You dislike this man more and more, you know he suspects you but being rude is also not right and you also realize the two animals that come with you are moving more restlessly.

With one needle prick, you forcefully direct your index finger into the man's mouth, making him inevitably taste 1 drop of your blood.

The man, of course, was surprised and wanted to push you, but he stopped moving when he tasted your blood, blood usually smells like iron and has an unpleasant taste, but your blood, as sweet as nectar, has no iron smell at all.

You wipe your fingers on the man's robe, because there is his saliva left behind.

Then you stand up and say.

"Go immediately, don't ever come back"

Ride the wild deer and ferret that have stayed on your shoulder, you leave the golden-eyed man.

The man just stares at you with a look that is difficult to interpret, then he lifts his shirt a little and sees, the stab wound in his stomach, slowly heals and leaves no scar at all, the man who feeling tired before, became fit and full of energy.

The man slowly stood up out of the forest, his mind still processing who are you?, how can blood heal a very deep and poisonous stab wound?. There were many questions in the man's mind.

The man walked and a few moments later, 2 other women and man came to the man's side bowing slightly.

"Your Highness, we have been looking for you, it is a relief to see you are okay" the women with a scar on her face spoke, with exotic skin too.

Then followed by a man who had blue eyes with exotic tan skin.

"The rebellion has succeeded your Highness, now all the Kurkans are waiting for you, Your Highness Ishakan".

The man... The King of the Kurkans, the new king of the Kurkans tribe, a tribe with animal blood, a tribe that has extraordinary physical abilities and looks, the King of the Kurkans tribe.

Combing his hair slowly, Ishakan only answered briefly to his two aides, Genin the women with a wound on her face, and Haban the man with blue eyes just stared at Ishakan in confusion.

Then Ishakan said.

"Have you two... ever heard of a case where blood can heal wounds in an instant?"

Haban and Genin just looked at each other. Genin as Ishakan's aide and right hand answered.

"I don't think there is any case like that and it sounds very unreal, your Highness".

Ishakan grinned and said.

"Too bad I just experienced it." Ishakan looked back into the dark forest covered in fog.

"I found something very interesting, a very interesting rabbit."

chuckling while grinning, Ishakan walked away followed by his two aides who just stared confusedly at the forest behind them and walked away, towards their kingdom, the large oasis at the western end of the continent.

Ishakan had found a figure that made his instincts scream ripples, the instinct to claim something that was rightfully his, his mate.

*source Images : Pinterest

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

Special Story for my Love; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut

Tag list; @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger

#obsessed #possesive #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #Predatory Marriage #Ishakan #Kurkan #nevaerah

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livinginshambles · 1 year ago

Text

You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)

Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!

Masterlist

______________________________

“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.

“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.

You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.

Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”

James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.

“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.

James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”

“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”

James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”

You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.

The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.

Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”

“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”

“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.

Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.

“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.

“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”

Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“

“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.

“Then why-“

“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.

“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”

You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.

“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.

Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.

Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.

You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.

But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.

And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.

“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.

“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.

“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.

Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”

Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”

Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”

James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”

James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”

Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.

He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.

“Find who?”

James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.

“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”

You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.

“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.

Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”

You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.

You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.

“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“

“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.

James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.

You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.

You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”

“So you heard me?”

James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.

“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Okay.”

When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.

“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”

Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.

James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.

James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.

Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.

“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.

“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.

Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.

“You will never compare to her.”

All you could manage was a bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.

“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,” he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.

You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”

Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”

His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.

You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.

James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.

Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.

You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.

Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.

As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.

Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.

You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.

"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.

But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.

Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.

You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.

"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.

James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.

But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.

James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.

“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.

As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.

On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.

Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog

@mellowarcadefun @marauderssimpthings @tortured-artists @kazimierasm @ssc7514 @ietss @chieffanfun @narcissuspetal @jamesweather @nyrasunderwrld

@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette

@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @k0la22 @quackitysdrugdealer @lovelyteenagebeard @padf00ts-l0ver @littlemisslovestoread @queerqueenlynn @dot-erdana-blog @siimplyalea @stilesks

@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders era #marauder x reader #young james potter x reader

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rollingeevee · 4 months ago

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The time has come! I present you all the sequel to my Truthless Recluse oneshot. Teehee! Enjoy!

Territorial Beast

CW for below the cut: possessive Truthless Recluse, slightly suggestive(?)

Forgive any grammar mistakes- I’ll try to fix ‘em as I notice ‘em-

Truthless Recluse gently ran his fingers through your hair. You currently lay in his bed, snuggled under the covers. Feeling the effects of his bite for the first time seemed to take quite a bit out of you, and your mind fell to slumber not long after. He slowly dragged his hand down your cheek and neck with a ticklish feathery touch, pulling the covers down just enough to eye the mark he’d left on you. It was fresh, very visible, and festered with dark swirls of magic only noticeable to the trained eye.

The eyes of a Beast.

With lidded eyes, he placed a kiss to the bite mark, taking note of how you subconsciously shivered in reaction to his touch. The magic from his bite responded to the newborn Beast, and he felt his heart beat in tandem with the pulses that resulted from his presence near his chosen darling.

“Awww, lookit you~” spoke an eccentric, teasing voice. “A Beast and his Prey, how endearing~”

Truthless Recluse felt a growl instinctively rise in his throat, rumbling from deep within his self. He adjusted his position on the bed to cage you in his arms in a futile effort to hide you from the view of the many eyed Beast of Deceit.

“My, how far you’ve fallen~” Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled. “The old Pure Vanilla Cookie didn’t have it in him to be so openly hostile to others~ But I suppose that comes with the territory of your new awakening to the lies of this world~ Hehe!”

The newly corrupted cookie dared not move an inch from his spot, teeth slowly baring in a snarl.

Shadow Milk Cookie couldn’t help but laugh at this. “Ah, such a fierce, territorial display~! Bravo~! What a performance~!” He applauded. His eyes then narrowed, slitted pupils further thinning. “You’ve marked them, haven’t you? I can tell.” He watched as the other cookie lowered himself closer to you, nudging your sleeping body towards his in a show of possessive protectiveness. “A fellow Beast can always tell…”

Though his eyes remained narrowed and trained on blue cookie, a spark of curiosity flashed in Truthless Recluse’s eyes. A result of possessing half the Soul Jam of Knowledge. “What do you mean?” He gave voice to his question in a cautious, guarded tone.

The former Fount of Knowledge cackled at the question. “You felt it, didn’t you? That desire to mark? To claim? To bite?” He giggled at the look of realization on the once Cookie of Truth’s face. “Cookies like us trade in our sweet kisses for a much more effective bite upon waking to the truth of the world~”

“Much more effective, hm?” Truthless Recluse repeated, his voice reflecting his lack of trust around the other corrupted cookie, especially in the presence of his newly reclaimed prize.

Shadow Milk Cookie snorted at the distrust permeating the room, simply shrugging his shoulders. He then floated a little closer, angling his head and hair in attempts to get a better look at his new favorite toy’s chosen darling, and possibly the bite mark he’d left. He quickly backed off though when he narrowly avoided an attack from the fallen cookie. He was standing now, shoulders squared and muscles tensed as he stood guard in front of your body. The new Pure Vanilla was much more… aggressive than he’d anticipated, though he supposed given the current situation, aggression was to be expected. He was a Beast defending his greatest prize, and Shadow Milk knew very well how Beasts got around their darlings when they felt their beloved cookie was in danger, especially around others who could threaten their claims. These feelings were all new to Pure Vanilla Cookie, so such a harsh reaction wasn’t at all unexpected in hindsight.

“Alright, alright!” He lifted his hands in the universal sign of backing off. “I was just curious of the cookie who could bring out your Beastly nature the most! Not like I don’t already have a darling of my own!” He was pouting, and tried one last time to get a clear look at the unconscious cookie, before disappearing with a snap of his fingers and a “Tch, no fun” when Truthless Recluse let out another warning growl.

The newly corrupted cookie glanced around for a few seconds, inspecting every inch of the room with sharp eyes to make sure the mischievous, deceitful cookie had actually left. Once positive the perceived threat had passed, he sat back down on the bed. He glanced down at you, once again unable to resist threading his fingers through your hair. You groaned in response, eyes fluttering open. Seems you had come to.

As your eyes opened and your blurry vision came into focus, the first thing you felt was the dull ache in your shoulder. Ah… that’s right… Pure Vanilla had bitten you… But why…? You could still feel his sweet kiss on your forehead from when you first became lovers, but its warmth felt as though it had began to fade ever since his fall. It was even more dull than before, but you desperately clung to it still, seeing it as a reminder that he still existed somewhere within the lies and falsehoods he had embraced.

You winced as the pain from the fresh wound sharpened for the briefest of seconds, compelling you to look to the side. Your eyes met with those of Truthless Recluse, and you quickly sat up and tried to back away, only to hiss in pain as your shoulders moved, irritating the bite. He seemed unfazed by your reaction, slowly reaching out to you. You remained still as his fingers made contact with the bite mark, gently gliding over it. The pain slowly began to vanish the longer he was in contact with it, causing you to lean into his touch. When the pain had fully disappeared, his hand moved to your cheek. Seeking that warmth you were used to and the relief his touch provided, you once again subconsciously embraced the feel of his dough against yours, nuzzling your cheek against his palm.

“I told you you weren’t going anywhere.”

#Beast Bites and Ancient Kisses #BBaAK AU #Beast Bites #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #truthless recluse x reader #truthless recluse #pure vanilla crk #pure vanilla x reader #pure vanilla cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie

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mymiraclealigner · 10 months ago

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Don’t be kind | RemusLupin x fem!reader

summary: Remus has come back to apologize.

tw: smut without much plot (+18), curse words

word count: 2,223

a/n: long time no see :) i have been thinking about remus so much lately... hope you like this and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.

The rain hit the window desperately. It banged the outside of the big house begging to come in. The weight of the mist creeped into the walls with ease, like a snake crawling through a dense field, almost invisible. The Black House was dark and moist, the majority of its habitants in deep, twitchy slumber.

A girl held herself up on her elbows, semi-asleep still. Some hair stuck to her temple, product of the sweat. The heat under her duvet contrasted uncomfortably with the cold atmosphere. She managed to sit on her bed to recognize the figure standing past her door. A small breeze sneaked through the gap between the creaky floors; a shiver walked across her.

“Remus?” A set of manicured fingers raised to rub her sleepy eyes.

The man remained still. Remus was counting in his head: one, two three, four… Hoping to go unnoticed around twenty. It wasn’t the first night he had entered her room to watch her sleep or something more. But it was the first time he felt embarrassed that he got caught. Twenty came around and she remained focused on the subject in her room.

The silhouette’s shoulders were moving up and down patiently and a few drops fell from his fingers to the floor: he was soaking wet, the rain caught him on the way back to the house. She knew it was Remus and not an illusion. In her dreams, he would have come to her already and he would have been dry, smelling like books and whisky, like he normally did. In her dreams, he loved her unafraid, he was certain of his feelings for her.

“So this is what you do, treat me horribly and come back to watch me sleep and wet my floors?”

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you,” he replied with a hoarse voice. “It’s the moon.”

The girl looked down, a silver, thick stripe on the floor marked the distance between the bodies. It was always the moon the one coming between them. Nature’s round princess was an animated object, playing with Remus’ head and emotions. The witch constantly asked herself how something so beautiful could do him so much harm –and to her, consequently.

She removed the comforter from her body, sitting at the edge of the bed. The moon’s pale light bathed her naked legs. She wiggled her toes against the cold wood, getting ready to stand up. Remus’ breathing quickened, her actions meant I forgive you, clearly. He tried to ignore the inevitable worry of when he would no longer be forgiven.

She moved like an angel towards him: messy curls framing her face, tired eyes shaping the world around her. Remus could have kneeled to her feet and kissed them as an act of gratitude. She was merciful like a virgin.

She first pushed the heavy leather jacket off his shoulders. The garment hit the floor with a hard thud, splashing cold water on her feet. His hands were immediately on her hips, his achy knuckles relaxed at the touch of her cotton shirt. She surrounded his neck and came so close to his face she could feel his warm breath on her forehead. He smelled like pines and smog.

“I’m truly sorry, you’re so important to me,” he whispered against her hairline. His hands trespassed the fabric and caressed her lower back, occasionally playing with the edge of her underwear.

Her hands massaged his nape, helping it get rid of the tension the incoming full moon had induced. She looked up into his tired eyes, the stripe of light reflected in his pupils. He truly couldn’t escape the moon.

“It’s okay, just take what you need,” she responded while pulling his lips closer to hers.

He wanted to correct her, he wasn’t there to take anything –even if it seemed like it–, but it was too late. She immediately kissed him and he forgot about anything that had ever happened in the world before that moment.

The rain suddenly stopped, the clouds took deep a breath.

Like a siren she pushed him slowly into her waters, discarding his clothes on the way. The first buttons of his shirt were undone slowly by her slippery hands; the lethargy of her movements heated Remus’ head. He interrupted the unhurried pace yanking the shirt open, fours buttons flew across the room. Her nails scratched the hair on his torso, fondling the scars with dedication; it made Remus moan.

At the halfway point, Y/n lost her shirt. A soft breeze hardened her nipples, right before the werewolf’s hand grazed them. Her lips, already red and bitten, opened to emit a small groan of satisfaction. She was desperate for him, but so mad at his ways. She brought her bare chest closer to his in a unbridled outburst; fuck you, she thought.

Y/n kept her backward walk until she was stopped by the feel of the mattress hitting her thighs. The girl palmed him over his wet jeans: he was rock hard under the rough material. She guessed he had been hard for a while now by the way his hips stuttered. Remus separated from her kiss to observe her moving hand; in a swift move he removed it holding her by the wrist and trapping her arm behind her back.

“My turn,” he announced lowly against her cheek. He let his words linger in the air; he wanted time to slow her breaths.

With the back of his scarred hand he caressed the curve of her face relaxing the frown that had settled between her brows. His stroke kept going down her neck, the pulse of her veins made his fingers slightly jump. Like on a mountain, his hand raised following the outline of her breast; he pinched the nipple maliciously, stealing a whimper from the girl. His hand slipped down until it sneaked below the only piece of fabric that covered her. Past the mound of hair he wet his digits on her pussy, going up and down, ignoring the crying bead on purpose.

“Pl- please,” she breathed out.

“Uh?”

“I- I said please,” their eyes met. His were determined and playful, hers were pleading.

With a devious smile Remus decided to put her out of her misery and roll measured circles on her clit. Remus knew Y/n was close when the hand held hostage behind her back started to twitch; she also tried to keep her thighs relaxed, but he knew that subtle trembling too well.

The werewolf kissed her neck while diverted his fingers inside of her. First one, then another. He pumped his long fingers into her enough times to open her up, ease his way between her legs. First shallow, then deep. She swore she could feel the protruding scars caress her inner walls.

Once again, in the verge of the orgasm, he let her go. Putting his wet hand on her hip and freeing her arm from his hold. Her hands flew to his belt to unbuckle it. He held her thin hands between his and grabbed his erect member, guiding her through the up-and-down movements. She looked down, embarrassed to be so enraptured in the action.

“Look at me.”

She held her head up, looking shy beyond his shoulder, disobeying his request deliberately. He knew, then: she still resented him. Before he could say anything to defend his case, Y/n turned around and pulled down her underwear. As the small fabric fell to the floor, she straightened up and grabbed the nearest bedpost with her ass perked up.

Remus put a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her head to side with his, trying to make space to kiss. She could feel his wet tip hitting against her butt cheeks. His hips were rutting against her while his mouth was devouring her soft neck.

“Are you sure?” He whispered in her ear. Goosebumps traveled through her sides; she nodded.

“No, use your words. Come on”

The smallest “yes” came out of her lips. Remus knew he wouldn’t get anything clearer nor louder than that. Anchoring on her hips, he pushed her close to him and grabbed his cock to position it on her entrance.

Neither could keep a sigh of pleasure in at the first stretch. Remus thanked the Gods for her existence and her acknowledgment of his; never in his craziest dreams he thought he could be with someone like her. A long list was the one to enumerate all the ways she was perfect, far more noble and good than Remus; her pussy was in the top five.

He bottomed out and stayed still for a minute, letting her accommodate to his size. He inhaled the scent of her loose curls: fig and honey, his favorite. With a tortuous kiss on her cheek he started rocking inside of her. He held her between his hands like the fourth leaf of a clover, raising a hand to fondle her tits.

The witch could feel his love being poured in the swing of his hips. He was truly sorry (–or very drunk–), she knew, because this is what she had always asked of him and rarely received: to be a little vulnerable, to show her something more than a need to release. The way his breathing fell on her jaw, his arms surrounded her torso, his inhibited grunts matched the thumps… it was perfect, just not what she wanted now.

He treated her horribly hours before, denying her help with the upcoming full moon and talking to her like she was an ignorant idiot. He was so confusing: then, he wanted her far from his life, now, he was holding onto her with all the love and need. He was so mindful and delicate, his cock hit her spot over and over again and it felt so nice that she got mad. She wanted him to unload his frustrations on her, not protect her from already inflicted pain.

“Remus,” she used a hand to halt his movements behind her, “don’t be kind.”

Remus, who was drunk in pleasure, let go of wariness and the fear of hurting her and took a firm hold of the woman in front of him. His hips pounded in and out of Y/n taking the air out of her; he looked down and delighted himself with the view of her arched back and plump ass. Quickly, the slapping sound between the flesh was accompanied by a squelching one; Remus rolled his eyes and kissed the back of her head as she got wetter. The girl moaned his name like a prayer and stammered out scoldings and praises in an hushed erotic whisper.

He paused for a second to turn and lay down his witch on the edge of the mattress. He folded over her, keeping a steady, hard pace. His eyes looked for her, he was missing the connection, a glance to say there’s so many things that I feel that I can’t put words to, but she closed her eyes in feigned focus.

“Look at me,” he framed her face with his big hand. She turned a deaf ear and kept panting, concentrating on the pleasurable new angle.

“Come on,” nothing still. “You know, I–,” she squeezed him hard interrupting his sentence; the corners of her lips raised lightly. “I won’t let you come if you don’t look at me.”

Remus decreased his tempo, rolling his hips heavily against hers. Her eyebrows met and he knew he put her in trouble. A senseless murmur spilled from her throat in the sweetest tone, the werewolf almost melted. He rolled his pelvis closer knowing it would graze her clit and she immediately dug her red nails into his biceps; he smiled triumphant. Her moans increased and he watched her struggle to keep the composure, she needed permission to come.

Just like minutes before, her eyes opened painfully slow. This time, she was greeted by Remus’ glowing face, looking at her with serious devotion and the ghost of a grin. Behind him, an almost round, luminous circle peaked behind the window: the moon.

“Hey there–”

“Harder, please, I- I wanna come,” she begged breathless, dazed by his ministrations and the beautiful light behind his strong frame.

“Shh, don’t worry. I’ll let you come, sweetheart”

Remus increased the rhythm without taking his gaze off off her. She held his face between her hands and drew him closer to conceal her moans between his lips. Surrounding her legs against his torso Y/n asked if she could come and Remus replied with a simple “Yes, love, I’ve got you”. Immediately after, he came inside her with a groan, hiding his face in the gap between her shoulder and neck, her sweetest spot.

The clouds started weeping again, never covering the silver balloon, the protagonist of the night.

The moon looked at the girl laying sweaty on the bed. On top of her, Remus relished in the sole advantage of his condition: heightened feelings. He caressed her sides, looking to say I’m sorry, once again. She looked back at the moon and brought the werewolf to her lips for another round; tomorrow the man would be the moon’s, but tonight he was all hers.

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