#sorry if its kind of bad i rushed it a bit and i used this tiny ass phone and my finger whilst sitting in a pitch black room 🙏
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sunnysideoflondon ¡ 1 year ago
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bojan :)
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fandxmslxt69 ¡ 11 months ago
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Terrible Liar
Avenger!Loki x Avenger!f!reader
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Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury (reader has a nasty ass wound), mentions of blood and medical supplies, Loki and reader are both assholes to each other but its FUNNY. Rushed plot bc this came to me in a fever dream. Maybe some bad grammar, run on sentences etc. Ignore those ahaha. this is NOT edited or reviewed AT ALL. she's as raw as they come.
A/N: This came to be in a fever dream. Btw. Like God sent it to me. I'm sorry if it feels rushed I was so desperate to get it all down I blacked out. IT'S 5K OKAY MY BAD AHAHAH i'm kind of a slut for this kind of trope so MY BAD. anyway this is for THE @sarahscribbles 's Christmas Celebration!! Sorry I'm a little late, these two wouldn't shut the fuck up so I got carried away. ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY SARAH I LOVE YOU <3
Synopsis: What could possibly go wrong with spending a night sharing a room with Loki? (aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope)
Word count: 5K
Oh man. You watched Loki bang the hood of the car in anger. That can’t be good. 
You rested your head against the window of the stolen car, taking deep breaths. You could feel your whole body shaking from the adrenaline. You hadn’t calmed down a single bit since the ride out here. How long has it been? Probably less than an hour. You had no idea how far out you were from the nearest town and it absolutely was not the right time for this car to stop. Your entire body hurt from getting kicked in the ass repeatedly during the fight, and your head spun. Your left side throbbed and your shoulder screamed in agony. Not to mention, you are completely separated from the rest of the group, and you have no means of communication. Somewhere along the way, you had lost your comm, and your spare was of no use. Loki said the lines were down anyway, so it wasn’t much help to begin with. 
Speaking of the devil, he threw the door of the car open, letting in the chill winter air, and huffed as he got back in, slamming the door behind him. “Stupid, useless vehicle. What is the point of transportation if it fails so easily?” He grumbled.
“It’s out of gas, genius,” “Well it’s not making for a very efficient getaway car,” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well?” You looked at him expectantly, but he only looked back with an expression of confusion. You sat up straighter to face him, but your vision blurred and your head swam. It took you a minute to collect yourself. “We can;t just sit here, we’ll freeze to death,” Loki scoffed. “No I won’t,” You clenched your jaw. “Okay, I’ll freeze to death,” “Tragedy,” His tone was dead as he pulled out his phone to mess with. “I’ll let them know it was a heroic death,” “You’re such an asshole,” “How original,” You nearly growled. “Laufeyson,” “Agent,” He replied smoothly, looking up at you with one of those disarming grins. You were not falling for it. You may be delirious and crashing soon, but you were not falling for Loki’s charms. 
“We need to figure something out,” “You mean I need to figure it out,” “Oh my fucking god. I’m not gonna sit here like some passenger princess-” “Agent, you are trembling so hard you couldn’t even walk a foot much less help out in this little dilemma,” Loki interrupted. “I have no desire to starve out here, and horrifyingly, I can’t find it in my heart to let you die out here either. I’ll figure it out,” 
You grumbled under your breath, and you were certain he heard you because he grinned wider and went back to messing with his phone. 
He was right though, you were shaking really hard- both from the adrenaline and now, the cold. Whenever you exhaled, a puff of white air formed in front of you, and the tip of your nose was starting to go numb. The idea of leaving your fate at the moment in the hands of Loki was an absolutely horrifying idea, since you knew how reckless this guy tended to be. But you didn’t have much of a choice, and as much as it physically pained you to sit quietly and wait, you did just that. It was made another fifteen minutes before Loki peeled his eyes away from the phone pad. He opened the door to the car, and stepped out. 
“Hey!” You yelled. “Where the hell are you going? Close the goddamn door!” But of course, he didn’t bother answering or listening. He looked around, staring at his phone occasionally before surveying the area again. And just when you thought he couldn’;t get more insane, he started walking away from the car. Your heart squeezed in your chest. Was he going to leave you here? Like hell he was. You kicked open your door, shakingly getting out of the car. You were vaguely aware of the stab of pain at your side that nearly had you doubled over as black spots danced in your vision, but you willed yourself to push it aside. You slammed the door shut as you walked out after Loki. 
“Hey!” You yelled out to him. You had no idea if he could even hear you with the way the wind howled and snow whipped at your face. It was freezing cold, snow biting your cheeks and your teeth chattering after being out here for less than a few minutes. “Laufeyson!” You yelled louder, arm clutching your side and limping in the direction he walked in. No answer. You were positive a storm was kicking up. 
“Loki!” You screamed this time, as loud as your voice let you. Your chest heaved, your throat hurt, and the air you gulped stung so bad you were so close to never breathing it again. 
“Loki! God help me, Loki, when I find you!” You looked around slowly, yet all you saw was the outline of your stolen car in the winds, and white. So much white. “I’ll haunt you, you know!” You shouted into the wind. “If I die here, I’ll haunt you forever!” You had to shield your eyes from the harsh snow as you yelled. You knew he couldn’t hear you, but you also knew that he couldn’t have gotten too far. How long could he even last out here? Damn it, he could probably last a while. 
Stupid, horrible, arrogant Loki. You contemplated going back to the car, but decided that if you were going to imagine a million and one ways to kill and haunt Loki for eternity, you might as well do it while freezing out here. You were only at number fifteen of your haunting possibilities when you heard his stupidly smooth voice. “What in the Nine Realms do you think you’re doing out here?”
You whirled around to find him standing there, absolutely unaffected by the weather or your situation. His cheeks were rosy and his pretty hair was up in a bun (that was more falling apart than anything) and pretty snowflakes hung in the curls. 
He looked….well. He looked heavenly, to say the least. 
“I was out here looking for you,” You shot back as harshly as you could, but with the way your teeth chattered and the small smirk that tugged at his lips, it didn’t seem to be working. “You should have stayed in the car,” He sounded almost…angry. Why the hell would he be angry when he left you behind? Although, the frown and furrowed brows were a little cute. “You shouldn’t have wandered off and left me behind,” “I was coming to get you,” “Like hell you were,” “I was,” He stepped closer to you, and you had to hold back everything to not huddle up closer to him like a goddamn penguin. He snapped his fingers and you felt something warm and heavy fall on your shoulders. “Put that on. We’re leaving,” 
“Leaving?! Where the hell are we leaving?! Do I need to remind you that we are stranded in the middle of a storm?!” 
Loki grumbled as he forcefully got you into the jacket he conjured. You didn’t bother saying thank you, which was fine because he only kept glaring at you before marching ahead. 
“Where are you going?!” He didn’t bother answering. “Loki!” Assshit. You grumbled and huffed the entire time as you hurried after him, trying to block off the tingling ache at your side. You knew you didn’t get stabbed. Maybe it’s a big cut. You were certain you’d know if a knife had lodged itself into your side. 
You had no idea where Loki was taking you but you kept your mouth shut in hopes that it was someplace warm and safe. 
“Your hair looks like shit,” You blurted out. Okay, maybe not always keeping your mouth shut.
He looked at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t look much better,” “Yeah but I said it first,” “Maybe I should have left you in the car,” “I would’ve still found you,” “Yes, haunting me forever,” “You heard that?!” He shrugged. “I was heading back to the car. You weren’t exactly quiet,” You stared at him with wide eyes. “And you didn’t even say anything,” “I found it too amusing to interrupt,” You frowned, shoving him with your shoulder. Wrong move apparently, because your vision started spinning and your knees nearly buckled. Loki wrapped an arm around you ever so gently, as if scared you’d shatter otherwise. “Stop talking,” He snapped. “And stop being so damn aggressive. I would like to make this journey without you collapsing on me,” “I’m not going to collapse,” You mumbled. “You always were a terrible liar,” He muttered under his breath, and more or less carried you to your destination. At first, you didn’t let him, but he won eventually, like he always did, and you leaned the rest of your weight onto him. 
You had no idea where you were until you reached the smack middle of a small town. A picture perfect fantasy, almost. Little houses and small shops lined with lights and trees and covered in snow. It was like stepping into a Hallmark movie. Each house was so full of light, and even through the howling wind, you could hear the sounds of laughter and shrieking children. 
How the hell did Loki find this place? “There’s a motel here. We’ll book rooms, spend the night. I’m sure there’s Wi-Fi too,” Loki sounded like he was talking more to himself than you. 
“Freaking out?” You asked. 
“Yes. I’m thinking of which way Stark will kill me if you die,” “Pfft. Tony wouldn’t kill you,” Loki raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet as he walked you both through the town. The storm was clearly picking up, and you were thankful that he had all those genes to keep him alive in this weather, and that he was able to find this place. 
When you reached the motel- which appeared to be the only one in town- you couldn’t help smiling (even if you couldn’t feel your face at all anymore). It was a cute little building, rustic and heartwarming. Little snowmen lined the front, and a bed jingled as you and Loki entered. The inside was even better, with burgundy and gold designs and wallpaper that looked like it came straight out of a Victorian novel. It was cozy, and more importantly, warm. 
You almost sobbed in relief as you practically collapsed onto an armchair by the counter. Your body sank into it, your nerves singing in joy as you slowly felt your fingertips again. 
“Are you alright?” Loki asked. 
You nodded. “Yup,” He made a sound of disapproval. “You need to lie better,” “Go shove your head through the wall,” You muttered back. He only grinned. Loki didn’t even appear fazed or relieved at the warmth, and simply marched up to the counter. There was no one there, and he rang the bell at least five times. 
“Would you stop that?” You snapped after the sixth time.
“It’s a bell. It’s meant to be used,” “Not like that,” “It’s how you call for attention,” “Well I’m sure whoever runs this place will be here shortly,” He lasted a whole two minutes before he hit the bell again. 
“Loki,” You hissed. 
“Just a minute!” You heard a cheery voice call from the back, and a short old lady appeared, seemingly out of breath. “Sorry about that, all those damn stairs,” She chuckled to herself.
Loki flashed her a smile. “It’s not a problem at all,” “Oh my,” The old woman smiled back but this time you swore up and down she blushed a little. 
Loki and his stupid, disarming smile. 
“My…friend and I are a little caught in this storm,” He started, gesturing to you. You waved weakly at the lady and mustered up a smile. She probably thought you were crazy. You had no idea how you looked, but you knew it wasn’t how a normal person should. 
“We were wondering if you had any available rooms for the night. Just two is fine,” He turned back to the lady with an even bigger smile. 
“Well,” She smiled wider at Loki. “I’ll see what I can do,” He nodded, “Thank you…” he squinted at her name tag. “Lucy. Thank you very much, Lucy,” And there Lucy went, blushing and grinning at him again. 
Horrible, absolutely tragic. The poor woman had no idea how insufferable Loki was. 
Lucy rummaged through her desk, seemingly looking for keys to the rooms. She pulled out one, placing it on the counter, before going back to look for the other. You waited, tagging your foot on the wood floor, staring at the cute fireplace. Your whole body hummed in gratitude, and your feet tingle, feeling back in them. 
“Oh dear,” Lucy muttered to herself. 
“Everything alright Lucy?” Loki asked. 
“It seems that I only have a single room available. This storm has the place booked fully,” She explained. 
Hell no. 
Loki sighed. “Very well-” “Are you sure?” You interrupted him. “Can you check again?” You probably sounded desperate, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 
You can’t share a room with Loki. You’d go crazy. You’d do something disastrous- like give in to the urge to cuddle into his chest! Or God forbid, tangle your hand in his hair. 
“I did, hon. I’m afraid this is all I’ve got,” She said apologetically. 
Fuuuuck. 
“It’s quite alright, Lucy. There’s two beds in the room, correct? I’m sure we can manage to share a room for a night,” Loki said hastily before you could interrupt again. 
Lucy opened her mouth, as if to say something else, before she stopped. “Alright,” “How much is it for the night, darling?” Oh okay, he was really laying it on thick then. 
“Oh- oh um…” Lucy chuckled nervously. “This room….it’s 150$ for the night. You can pay in the morning, if you prefer,” “Nonsense,” Loki smiled, pulling out cash from the pocket in his top armour, counting the bills. “Here you go, Lucy,” He handed her the money. “Thank you so very much for your help,” She nodded wordlessly as she handed him the key. Loki took it and turned back to you, arms on his hips. “Are you coming, or must I carry you?” “I wouldn’t mind being carried…” You started jokingly. Apparently, Loki couldn’t read the room, because he frowned, shrugged and then walked over, picking you up effortlessly. 
“Hey-!” You started to protest, but a sudden wave of pain shot through you, shutting you up. “I was joking,” You muttered.
“Mhm,” He said, shooting Lucy another smile before heading upstairs to your room. The stairs were cute too, you noticed, lined with a soft matt and cute lamps lined the walls. And Loki’s chest was really warm, and- that had nothing to do with the motel. 
Before your thoughts could get any more dangerous, Loki stopped in front of a room, hand rummaging through his back pocket to get the key. “You can put me down now,” “I’ll put you down when I feel like it,” Shithead. 
He unlocked the door and stepped in, closing it behind him with his foot. All businesslike, he walked over to the big bed and placed you down on it. It was comfy, and you had to control yourself from not falling back and getting it dirty in all your blood and gore. Loki looked you over. “Fine?” You nodded. “Fine,” He smiled and you were certain he was going to call you a liar but you stopped him. “Laufeyson?” “What?” “Where’s the other bed?” Loki froze, looking around the room slowly. “Oh,” “Oh?” He looked back at you. “It seems, darling, that there is no other bed,” “No fucking shit! You’re sleeping on the floor,” He looked at you in disbelief. “Absolutely not. We can share the bed like civilised people,” “Everyone always says that! And then it never works out!” You threw your hands up. You winced, immediately dropping your hands to hold your side. “Everyone? Who the hell is everyone?” “The movies, duh,” He stared at you. “You’re serious,” “Dead,” He ran a hand down his face. “Alright. We’ll split the bed or something. I truly don’t care enough. I simply want to sleep,” You shrugged. “Fine. Go shower first, then I’ll go in,” “I don’t have clothes to change out of, genius,” “You’re a god genius,” You replied mockingly. “I’m pretty sure you can snap your fingers and get us some clothes,” He stared at you, like he hadn’t had that thought at all. “Right.” And indeed, with a snap of his fingers, a pile of clothes appeared on the bed, and one in his hands. “Try not to get yourself killed,” “I hope you drown in the shower,” He smiled at you before heading into the washroom. You were finally alone, even for a few minutes. You breathed a sigh of relief. Being around Loki always ended with one of you flustered. Tragically, it tended to be you. You looked through the pile of clothes Loki summoned- a plain shirt that appeared way too large, and some plaid pants. They weren’t outrageous. You just had to make sure you hadn’t lost any limbs. 
You slowly peeled off the layers of your top- the jacket, weapons, cash, your useless comms and phone- and then unzipped your equally-useless-in-the-cold vest. You laid all your things on the floor, not wanting to get the bed dirty. Then, slowly, you lifted your top just under your chest, sucking in a deep breath.
Fuck. 
There was a nasty looking cut, starting from right under your ribs and nearly crossing the other side. You didn’t think it looked terrible, but you are almost certain it needed stitches. It wasn’t bleeding too much, but that might have to do with being out in the cold for too long than anything else- even your top was more or less soaked in blood. 
You didn’t even have a first aid kit. You traced around the cut slowly, wincing when it hurt. You prayed it wasn’t infected. 
“Alright, hm?” Your head snapped up to see Loki freshly showered and changed, his now useless mission suit nowhere in sight. “Um, yeah, I’m fine,” His jaw ticked. “You’re hurt,” “Yeah but I’m fine,” “You are bleeding,” He sounded ...angry. Was he mad at you? “It’s not like I did it on purpose,” You snapped. 
He clenched and unclenched his fists. He opened his mouth to say something, before he shook his head and stormed out of the room. 
“What the fuck? You called out after him. He didn’t answer as the door slammed behind him. 
You had no clue why he had to be so mad. It’s not like you chose to get hurt, and you certainly weren’t going to ask him for anything, so why’d he get so pissy? You grumbled to yourself as you grabbed the clothes, heading into the bathroom to scrub off the day. 
It took you a solid twenty minutes to wash everything out. You were very careful to not open your cut further, taking warm water to wash off the dried blood around it. 
You tugged on the plain shirt as you stepped out of the bathroom. You winced when you reached up to tie your hair, deciding to just leave it down to dry. You had thrown your old clothes on the pile of Loki’s in the bathroom, and used a spare towel to press against your wound. 
“Welcome back,” You said sarcastically when you found Loki sitting on the bed. 
“Come here,” He said curtly. 
“You can’t just order me around after you walk out you know? And you can’t get bitchy with me for no fucking reason-” “Will you please come sit down so you can look at your wound,” Loki snapped, but it didn’t sound harsh. It was almost…pleading. You froze in your spot, blinking slowly at him. His voice sounded devastated and in your daze, you nodded, slowly walking over to sit on the bed beside him. 
“May I?” He gestured to your shirt and you nodded again. He lifted it over your head, and suddenly you were thankful for putting on the sports bra Loki brought with your clothes.. “You didn’t say anything,” He whispered. 
You swallowed. This was too freaky. You never got this close with Loki. “We-...we had other things to worry about,” You swore his hands trembled as he reached into the first aid kit beside him. Where did he get that? Did he run out to buy one? Damn it. You and Loki didn’t do fluffy shit. The one day you needed him to be an asshole….
He took his time cleaning the wound, and you tried your best to keep your yelps of pain down. 
“Do you want stitches?” Loki asked in a soft tone. He looked ...frightened. And why too pale. Did he get squirm-ish at this stuff?
“Are you a medical professional?” You asked. 
“Farthest thing from it,” You hummed. “Just wrap it up,”
He nodded, grabbing some cotton pads and the gauze. He carefully placed the pads onto the wound, and began wrapping the gauze around your waist. His fingers brushed against your skin, and you shivered at the touch. 
“There,” He exhaled, pulling his hands away. “You can put your shirt back on,” “Yeah,” You nodded. You should definitely grab it now. You should probably put it on. But you didn’t move a muscle, not with the way Loki stared at you, and the way his eyes dipped lower occasionally. He looked away, appearing flustered, his fists clenched on his thighs. “Loki?” “What?” He snapped. 
“Why are you so angry?” “You could have died,” His voice died down to nothing but a desperate whisper. “You could have died,” You opened your mouth to protest, to say that you had it under control and that everything was fine, but he shook his head. 
“Don’t you dare say everything was ‘fine’. You’re still such a terrible liar,” You weren’t. He just had that freaky ability to tell when you lied every damn time. 
“You could have died. Human life is so horribly fragile, you could have died at any second. What was I to do then, hm? Stare at your lifeless body?” “I thought you’d rejoice at my death,” You joked, trying to break the tension. His eyes snapped to look at yours, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide with fear. You thought he’d say something, but instead he just leaned in, crushing his lips harshly against yours. Before you could even react, he pulled away, breathing heavily. 
“I would have died too. In the simplest terms, my heart would have stopped working the minute yours did too,” You froze in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. What just happened? Your lips tingled from the kiss. You wanted him to do it again. “What the hell are you saying, Loki?” “I’m saying that you are incredibly stupid and idiotic and completely selfish. And that I would rather die than live a life without you in it,” He started, his tone angry and desperate. Your head was spinning. Maybe there was drugs in the linen of this bed. Or maybe Loki hit his head. 
“Say something,” Loki pleaded now, the fight gone from him. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. I can’t help myself. I go crazy every time you’re around. I can’t think straight and I….I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never done this before. I thought perhaps if I annoyed you enough, I’d get you out of my head. But Norns, every time you shot some clever remark back, it only egged me on more,” He was rambling at this point. 
You felt confused, but at the same time a sense of relief washed over you. It wasn’t like you were in love with Loki- but you definitely didi entertain the idea of occasionally making out with him or spending the day shopping together. 
So maybe it was a little crush. 
And fuck, it was a relief to hear him blurt out how helpless he was with you. 
“Did you black out?” Loki asked. He cursed under his breath, getting up to give you some space. “I apologise, I shouldn’t have said anything. I came off too strong,” He fumbled as he stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I just…I panicked. I apologise-” “Loki,” You stopped him from spiralling further, even if it was cute to see his usually composed self dissolve. You shuffled over to him on your knees. Even while on the bed, he was still fucking giant. You cupped his face and pulled him down, pressing a kiss to his lips. 
You pulled away after a second, dizzy from the feel of his lips on yours. It was better than you could have ever imagined. He stared at you in shock, lifting his fingers up to press them to his lips. You nearly died right there. 
“What was that for?” he asked, shocked. 
You laughed, kissing him again. He leaned into it this time, wrapping his arms carefully around your waist, his lips pressing against yours. 
You kissed him again and again and again, until you were both breathless and his lips were swollen and you were sure yours were too. 
“You’re really fucking insufferable, by the way,” You muttered against his lips. He hummed, chasing after yours as you pulled away. “You drive me insane. You’re in my head all the damn time, I can’t get rid of you,” “Don’t get rid of me, then,” He captured your lips in another bruising kiss. “I don’t plan to,” You sighed happily as you shuffled back onto the bed, pushing aside bandages and gauze wrap and wipes. Loki was a lot neater, taking his time to put them away onto the night table. He crawled into bed with you, his body hovering over yours, hands on either side of your head, caging you in. He leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips. One kiss turned into two, into three, and then you were making out lazily, your lips crushed together, heavy pants and heated breaths for god knows how long. Tragically, Loki rolled off of you, laying down beside you. You took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. 
Loki shifted, laying now on his side to look at you. You did the same, smiling softly. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 
“If you couldn’t tell, I’m not quite a people person,” You chuckled. “No, I guess not,” He could be your person though.
Maybe that’s too early to say. You kept your mouth shut. 
“Did I come off too strong?” “Nah,” You shook your head, reaching out to wrap your finger around a lock of his hair. “It was a Hallmark-worthy confession,” “What in the Norns is this Hallmark?” You laughed. “It’s a company. It makes lots of cheesy rom coms, all of which have some sort of frustratingly handsome male lead and big confessions,” “So you’re saying I’m handsome,” He grinned devilishly.  
“Can’t deny it,” 
He leaned in and kissed you again. You kissed him back but then pushed him off. “Stop it. I’ll become addicted,” He leaned back in. “Not a problem. I have no plans to go anywhere,” You ducked away from him, laughing. “If you keep making out with me Loki Laufeyson, we will be having sex,” His brows furrowed. “Absolutely not. Not while you’re injured,” Damn. 
“Fine, then stop kissing me,” “Well that’s unfair. I just got started!” You shrugged. “It’s not my call,” He huffed, pulling you closer, your back flat against his chest. His arm wrapped carefully around your waist, the hand coming to rest just under your wound. “Go to bed then. Before I do something crazy,” “I like crazy. I’m quite fond of crazy,” “Yes, crazy seems to follow you everywhere. It might be your whole identity, really,” “Is that an insult?” A pause. “I don’t think so,” 
You fell silent for a minute. “I think Lucy has a crush on you,” Loki laughed. “What makes you say that?” “Um, the way she blushed when you smiled at her? You laid it on so thick,” You could hear the shiteating grin as he spoke. “I have no idea what you mean, darling. I spoke to her like a normal person,” “Hm,” You wiggled closer to him. “Nah, you definitely were charming her,” His hand squeezed your hip. 
“Stop that,” “What?” You feigned innocence. 
“Stop moving,” You wiggled your ass again, just for a bit of emphasis. “What? This?” 
You swore the sound he made then was some growl. “You find new ways to annoy me every day,” “It’s my talent,” “And you excel at it,” You truly did. No one ever got under his skin like you did. And now with this new layer of your relationship, you have an infinite number of possibilities. 
You knew you guys should probably talk. Figure out where you stand. A plan for tomorrow morning. Try to communicate with the team. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now though. Loki was warm, and as he peppered kisses across your shoulder, you felt like maybe tomorrow would be a good day too. 
“I still think you’re an ass,” You mumbled, your eyes half closed. 
He laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Truly a terrible liar,” He pressed a kiss under your ear. “I still think you are the bane of my existence,” “The only one?” “The only one,” You hummed, content with the answer. You could figure things out tomorrow. Tonight, you just wanted to lay in this haze of sunshine. To sleep and wake up to get drunk on Loki again.
Tags: I'm gonna tag a few people because I think I'm silly and this is my second little christmas-y fic so what the hell i dont care LMAO. DONT FEEL OBLIGED TO READ <3 @sarahscribbles @divine-knight-hand @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @saturn-rings-writes
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sitepathos ¡ 2 months ago
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hey, I wanted to ask a couple of obvious or non-obvious things about the so-called "mold" because the very idea of it the first time I read it seemed very strange to me and I read it constantly interrupting myself to think whether it was really good or bad, BUT, the further it went, the more I started to like it terribly and as a result I had questions about this... thing.
Abilities and knowledge are good, but what about the other side of all this? Are there any side effects, so to speak? And what about weaknesses, both obvious and perhaps not obvious? Can this somehow greatly affect ordinary life? And if there are weaknesses and they can be used well in general, then could the BatFamily use them to their advantage?
(Sorry if it’s not coherent, I’m writing in a rush of questions and feelings...)
I’ve thought about doing a detailed report on how the Megamycete affects you, so thank you for asking this!
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Powers
Mycokinesis: with the Megamycete in your body, you can call upon its mold from within and create weapons like tendrils and armor composed of hardened mold. You can also control the roots that are all around Gotham and use them however you see fit.
Quorum Sensing: the roots of the Megamycete have spread all throughout Gotham for over four-hundred years, serving as its eyes and ears. You can tap into the roots and see anywhere you wish just by thinking of it, even if you’re far from the city. This is also seen when you turned into a murder of crows; while you were composed of multiple birds, they shared a single consciousness and you were able to see from all their perspectives all at once.
Record Access: the Megamycete has absorbed countless corpses over the centuries, both man and beast, and assimilating their memories, knowledge, and even DNA into its archives. Thanks to this, you can call upon this living repository and use it as if it were your own. Because of this, you technically have the knowledge and qualifications for many kinds of occupations and diplomas that would take years to obtain.
Shapeshifting: thanks to the Megamycete bonding with you at the genetic level and its vase records, you can call change into any form you desire, be it a bird, a beast, or a long-dead human (and you have even assume their voice if you desire). You can also make modifications to your real body, such as making a pair of functioning wings without assuming a bird form.
Regeneration: thanks to the Megamycete’s mold, you can heal from even the most serious wounds, such as gunshot wounds. You can lose a limb and you can just stick it back on your body and you’ll be as good as new (or just grow another one if the old limb can’t be recovered).
Superhuman Stamina: as stated in Chapter 6, the Megamycete gives you incredible stamina, reducing your need for food or rest (though you can still feel mentally fatigued as stated in Chapter 4). You still consume food and sleep because you actually enjoy these, but they don’t sustain you like they did before. The Megamycete’s all you need.
Superhuman Strength: the Megamycete makes you far stronger than you ever were before and gives you more strength than any normal human could ever have. Don’t misunderstand, you’re not Superman, but you could throw Bane around like a rag doll.
Benefits
In conclusion, the Megamycete makes you far faster, stronger, and smarter than any normal human.
Weaknesses
Unsurprisingly, the Megamycete’s mold has a vulnerability to fire. If we go by video game logic, it makes sense that a “plant-type” monster like the Megamycete could easily be hurt by.
Following the same video game logic, the Megamycete’s also vulnerable to the cold. Mold (normal, non-sentient mold) can still be found in cold environments, but it becomes dormant in freezing temperatures. While the Megamycete is more powerful than regular mold, it went into a kind of hibernation when it still resided in Gotham as it gets very cold in winter.
And while this is a bit of a spoiler, the Megamycete can be vulnerable to forms of toxins/poisons. While it can metabolize any hazardous substances and survive, if a specially designed toxin is designed to target its strain of mold, it could pose a very serious risk to the Megamycete. But, it would require special equipment, extensive knowledge in mycology and toxicology, and lots of money. Know anyone that fits that description?
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rxmqnova ¡ 1 year ago
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I have an idea for a nat x daughter reader fic so basically reader is like a lab made baby by hydra with nat is the gene for her mother and the other one is a random hydra dude and they put reader in a house with him and his wife somewhere In America but reader knows about nat but hydra dose not know she knows I kind of want it to be the vibe of stick season but anyway she runs away and finds Yelena by accident and yelena is like what is happening and takes her to the avengers which then leads nat to meeting reader if you can can you make it like super angsty but with a happy ending
Daughter?
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Y/N: 13 years old ——————————————————
NO ONE'S POV Ever since Y/N was a little girl, she has always sneaked out of her room everytime her father and step-mother had a visit. She knew it's not a good idea, especially when her father always scolds her for it, but she's way too curious.
Her curiousness led her to one very important information. A few years ago she overheard her father's boss talk about her mother… the real one. And since then Y/N's been trying to get out of this place and find her mother… the Black Widow herself.
She hates this place, she really does. The main reason is that her father is forcing her to train every day, so she could become a hydra agent one day.
Yes, Y/N's father is a hydra agent. He's actually one of the most trusted one for his boss, so that's why he was chosen to become the father of the future world's best assassin.
"Weak!" Y/N's father yells, pushing the poor exhausted girl and causing her to fall on the ground. "This is worthless! Go to your room, we'll continue tomorrow. I want to see you in way better condition, understand?!" He asks sternly.
"Yes" Y/N nods, trying to catch her breath. Her father leaves to room, leaving the exhausted young girl laying on the ground.
Once Y/N catches breath, she makes her way to her room and then straight to the bathroom to take a shower, thinking that she needs to get out of here as soon as possible.
As nearly every Friday night, Y/N's father and his wife are going out for dinner, leaving the girl home completely alone. Y/N doesn't mind though, at least she can finally get out of here and never ever come back again.
As soon as the front door shut and the car drives away, Y/N takes her bag and starts packing everything she needs.
With her bag in her hand, she rushes downstairs, trying to open every single window to try and find some her father hasn't locked. The door is locked, so there's no point in trying.
A smile makes its way on the girl's face when one of the window can be opened. She puts on her coat, takes her bag and gets out of the house, running as fast as she can to get as far as possible.
She runs and runs, finally arriving to a small village which makes her smile and let out a sigh of relief. She's too overwhelmed with everything that she doesn't pay attention to where she's going.
"Careful, little one" A blonde lady says, making Y/N cheeks turn a bit red.
"S-sorry" Y/N sutters, not used to talking to other people than her father or her step-mother.
"What are you doing here alone? It's dangerous. This place's…" Yelena stops, looking at the last few standing houses.
This little village is near one hydra base, so of course when some of the Avengers came to take that place down, the village didn't survive without a damage.
"Well, let's just say a very bad people lived near this little village" The blonde finishes her sentence.
"I. Hm… I-I'm looking for my mom. She. Hm. She's supposed to be some kind of superhero. Her name's Natasha Romanoff. Have you heard of her?" Y/N asks, a bit of hope in her voice as she looks up at the shocked woman.
"Natasha? What? She can't have children on her own. I… what?" Yelena stares at the child completely confused, but now noticing how similar the girl looks to her sister.
"Wait. So you know her? Could you please take me to her? I can't go back there, I really can't. Please" Y/N begs and Yelena can't help but nod as she's also curious how this happened.
Y/N follows Yelena to the quinjet, meeting Kate, Clint, Steve and Bucky there. Of course they look at the two with questioning looks, so Yelena tells them something before she sits aside with the young girl.
Yelena admits she's Natasha's sister, so Y/N tells her the story too, feeling like she can trust this woman. She does feel more and more nervous every minute they get closer to the compound though. She's wanted to meet her mom for a few years and she's worried about what will Natasha think about the whole situation.
As soon as the jet lands in front of the compound and everyone walks out, Y/N is quick to follow behind Yelena, spotting a redhead sitting on the couch.
"Natasha?" Yelena calls on which Natasha turns her head, smiling when she sees her sister.
"You're back" The redhead stands up, walking over to her sister and giving her a hug while Y/N stands behind and watching them, her heart nearly skipping a beat when she sees how much she looks like her mother.
"I brought someone who'd like to meet you" Yelena informs, placing her hand on Y/N's shoulder and giving the girl a soft smile.
"H-Hi, I. Hm. I-I'm Y/N" Y/N sutters, giving Natasha an akward nervous smile.
"Hey?" Natasha looks at the girl completely confused. "What can I do for you?"
"I. Hm… I-I know this will sound weird, but I-I'm your daughter" Y/N blurts out, looking at Natasha and hoping she'll believe her.
"Nonsense. I don't have a child" Natasha says immediately, the topic of children being a touchy subject for her. She turns around, walking away, but Y/N follows her.
"I can explain. Please"
"Y/N, you seem to be a nice girl, but this is a really bad joke. I can't have children on my own. It's just impossible" Natasha says with a sigh, not even turning around and continuing to walk towards her room.
Of course she's noticed the girl's features, but Dreykov made sure she won't ever have children on her own, so Y/N surely cannot be her daughter as she claims.
"It's not a joke. I really am your daughter. If you just let me explain, I-"
"No. I can't have children, Y/N" The redhead says once again, shutting the door of her room right in front of Y/N's face.
Y/N lets out a sigh, pushing back the tears that are forming in her eyes. After all, she left her home, her father… Her life wasn't the best, but what now? She has no place to stay, no home, no family.
Maybe the girl gave her hopes too high, thinking her mother would actually be happy to have a daughter. Y/N was really hoping she'd finally have a family she wanted for so long, but deep down she knew Natasha's reaction could be bad… and well, the redhead doesn't even know the part about hydra.
"What's wrong?" Yelena asks as soon as she spots her potentional niece stepping into the kitchen with her head low.
"She won't let me explain" Y/N mumbles with a sigh. "It was stupid, I should have stayed there" She mumbles to herself.
"Let me talk to her, yeah? Wanda here will give you something to eat meanwhile" Yelena smiles warmly, placing her hand on Y/N's shoulder and giving it a rub.
Y/N nods, so Yelena walks away and straight to her sister's room. After hearing Y/N's story she just wants nothing but to help the young girl. She knows Natasha would be a great mother and Yelena's already excited about being an aunt.
Yelena knocks at the door of Natasha's room, not getting any response, but she just walks in anyway, finding her sister sitting on the bed, deep in thought as her cheeks are stained by tears.
"Natasha, I know it's hard to believe, but Y/N explained everything to me. You're her mother. Isn't that what you've always wanted?" Yelena asks, sitting down on the bed next to her sister.
"Yelena, I can't have children and neither can you. It's just impossible. What if she's just a spy or something, huh? Have you thought about that?" Natasha blurts out, standing up and leaving the room. She really doesn't want to talk about it right now.
"Natasha, just talk to her" Yelena sighs, following her sister to where she's going.
"Why, Yelena? If I'm her mother, she needs to have a second parent. Why doesn't she go to him? Where does she live anyway? She has to live somewhere. I don't even want a daughter" Natasha's irritated by now, not meaning the words she's saying, but that's something Y/N doesn't know though… and she's heard every single word.
The sisters stop walking and talking when they notice they're suddenly in the kitchen, Y/N looking at both with watery eyes, thinking how stupid it was to look for her mother.
The girl immediately stands up from the table she's been sitting at and eating her food, taking her bag and rushing out of the compound, ignoring Yelena's calling after her.
The blonde runs after her niece immediately, catching her sooner than she leaves the compound.
"Hey, hey, you can't just leave. It's getting late and cold" Yelena says, bringing Y/N in for a hug on which the girl can't hold her tears anymore.
"I just wanted a mom" Y/N cries out into Yelena's shoulder, holding the blonde tightly.
"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm sure Natasha didn't mean it, honey" Yelena tries to calm the girl down, rubbing her back and pressing a kiss to her head.
———
Yelena managed to get Y/N to stay. Both are ready to go to bed now, but a knock at Yelena's door interrupts them.
Natasha hasn't stopped thinking about it… if it's really possible that she could have her own daughter. She feels so incredibly bad for making Y/N cry and she's always wanted a child, but what if it's just a trap?
She did decide to talk to the younger redhead though. Natasha always recognizes when someone's lying, so she'll see if the girl's telling the truth or not.
"Hey, can I have a word with Y/N?" Natasha asks after opening the door.
Yelena nods, telling them she's going to the kitchen for a glass of water, so the two stay alone. Natasha takes a seat on the bed, looking at the girl who's avoiding an eye-contact.
"Y/N, I… I know I said something that hurt you and I'm sorry for that. I just… I've lived my whole life, thinking I would never have a child on my own. So when you told me you're my daughter… It just felt… impossible" Natasha admits.
"I was made in a lab. They used your eggs to create me. I heard my father talking about it with his boss a few years ago. I just thought that maybe if I found you… that maybe I could have someone who'd actually love me" Y/N confesses, trying to push back her tears and not cry in front of the woman in front of her.
"So you have a father… doesn't he love you?" Natasha asks, receiving a shake of a head from the girl.
"He's just completing his boss's orders and trains me to become a hydra agent, but I don't want to" Y/N sighs, Natasha squeezing her eyes shut, knowing damn well what's it like to have a childhood like that.
"I'm sorry you had to live like that" The redhead says softly, placing her hand on Y/N's and finally making the girl look up and lock eyes with her.
"Had to? You won't send me back to him?" She asks confused.
"No, of course not. I would never send you back to someone who's doing this. I should have let you explain earlier, I'm sorry" Natasha apologizes, rubbing her thumb over Y/N's knuckles.
That's all it takes for Y/N to just jump into Natasha's arms, taking the redhead by surprise. Natasha chuckles, wrapping her arms around Y/N. She will definitely want Bruce to run some DNA tests, but her spy skills say Y/N's telling the truth. Looks like a brand new chapter of her life is starting right now… she's a mom.
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Natasha Romanoff masterlist
Masterlist
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willsimpforanyone ¡ 5 months ago
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what about a percabeth x reader kind of smut kind of hurt/comfort where the three are having a spicy moment (where annie and percy are doms, r is a sub) and r is gagged, but perce and annie start getting a lil too harsh and r is protesting through the gag and then just a bunch of comfort and fluff coming from beth and percy?? 🫶🏼
i can definitely do this and i will remember this time that its percABETH c'mon brain don't bluescreen this
WARNING! the reader is in distress in a sexual situation for the first couple paragraphs but percy and annabeth immediately stop once they realise, and there is no actual smut
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It's getting to a point where I'm not having as much fun as I think I should be.
I'd wanted this, I wanted to be restrained and gagged and all that, I'd asked for it, quite literally. But it was feeling... not as good as I'd hoped.
My wrists hurt in a bad way and my jaw aches from the gag in my mouth. I can't concentrate on what Percy or Annabeth are doing I'm so distracted by the now-unwanted sensory feelings.
Annabeth slaps my thigh and I make a noise of genuine pain that stops both of them in their tracks. I blink up at them, glassy-eyed and spitting muffled words through the gag. I don't want to do this anymore, I'm not having fun, this isn't what I want anymore.
They glance at each other, clearly trying to understand what happened, until Annabeth snaps into action. She snaps her fingers at Percy and points to the door. "Go, water and snacks, now."
Percy does as he's told, rushing out the room. With gentle fingers, Annabeth undoes the gag from behind my head and eases it out of my mouth with a worried, tender look.
"Hey, baby, are you okay?" She asks softly, grey eyes wide and careful.
I'm panting slightly and tears well up in my eyes, shaking my head.
It visibly looks like her heart breaks, but she focuses on untying my wrists and ankles. I curl up my slightly aching limbs, sitting up from the bed and wrapping my arms around myself.
"Can I touch you?" Annabeth asks, voice soft and slightly wobbly as if she's on the verge of tears.
I nod my head vigorously, reaching out for her and she falls onto the bed with me, gathering me up in her arms as best she can. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, pressing her lips against my head.
Percy returned with about 6 bottles of water and the entire snack basket from the kitchen. Despite myself, I laugh hoarsely. "How many people do you think are in this room?"
"I panicked!" He dumped the water and snacks onto the bed, clambering over to me and Annabeth. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Taking a deep breath, I rub a hand over my face. "I'm... I'm okay, just... it got a bit much, y'know?"
Percy takes one of my hands, kissing my knuckles affectionately and smoothing his fingers over the skin of my wrists. "Was it something we did?"
Annabeth's arms tighten protectively around me, and I feel her lips pout against my cheek. I rest my other hand on her leg, trying to be reassuring. "You didn't do anything I didn't initially want you to do, I just no longer wanted to do it," I explain quietly, looking between the two. "I'm sorry, it just felt wrong, it wasn't what I wanted anymore."
The response is a pair of shaking heads and Percy opening one of the bottles of water. "No, don't apologise," Annabeth whispers, somehow trying to get even closer to me. "Don't you dare, you did so well, telling us you wanted to stop."
Percy hands me the water, laughing slightly as he eases Annabeth's hands away from me for a moment so I can actually drink the water. "Maybe next time we either do the restraints or the gag, so it'll be easier for you to communicate?"
I pout- when I asked for both, I'd meant it, and I don't like the idea of never doing it again. Percy raises his eyebrow, looking serious for a moment. "Don't give me that look, we're going to have a conversation and come up with a solution that is good for everyone."
Annabeth reaches for a bag of crisps, opening them for me and setting them in my lap. "Drink the water, eat the snacks, all of it, I'm going to start a bath." She gestures to Percy, and they high five. "Tag in for me."
They change positions, Annabeth heading to the bathroom and Percy snuggling up to me, kissing my cheeks. "Hey, you," he hums, stroking up and down my arms. "You feeling better?"
I nod, leaning into him and popping crisps into my mouth. "Mhm, I appreciate having my limbs back."
He laughs, squeezing my middle slightly. "Limbs are good, glad you're feeling okay."
"Thank you for stopping," I say quietly, kissing his cheek warmly.
"Always," he replies, tilting my head to kiss me sweetly. "Always, baby."
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thank you for requesting, hope you liked it!
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politemenacephd ¡ 11 months ago
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Arachnophilia: (Part Ten)
Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)
Chapter Masterlist 🕷️
Content: Fluff and bonding, Monster/human relationship, Miguel is rutting, Reader goes into heat, Rough PinV sex, Spontaneous outdoor sex, Slight voyuerism/exhibitionism, Mouth covering, Rough biting, Creampie & web sealing, Little bit of angst at the end? CW: Mentions of & brief depiction of deer hunting.
Word count: 6060
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One Week Later
‘Are you ready, arañita?’
Miguel’s voice drifted up and into the nest, turning your head towards the entrance. You were halfway through getting dressed and the distraction nearly toppled you to the floor.
‘AH- Yeah! Yeah, I’m- almost ready! Just a minute!’
You struggled into your new outfit; a suit made entirely of silk which Miguel had painstakingly crafted for you. It was super soft and strangely warm, but it clung to the contours of your body a little more than you’d have liked. You kept wondering if Miguel had consciously or perhaps unconsciously made it so form-fitting. After all, this was your third suit of its kind, as he’d ripped the other two to shreds during extremely passionate and wet sex.
You felt your face grow warm at the memory and physically shook it away. No, no time for that. If you slipped back into the heat again you’d never get to go on the trip, and you were excited to go.
As you rose to your feet you took a moment to admire how the nest was coming along. The first thing you’d done was make it homely by adding a window and doors, with the entrance now covered by a crude cut oaken circle that swung outward on a hinge and the walls now adorned with little wooden shuttered holes.
You admired the half-made fireplace in the centre of the room, next to the DIY wooden table and the slowly burgeoning food prep area, before turning to the bed.
The mattress was completely drowning in silken blankets and silken pillows, and the floor beside it was now adorned with the pelt of a stag he’d killed. You knew autumn was approaching and it would only get colder, hence the focus on conserving heat, and while you didn’t want to jinx the relationship you enjoyed planning for the future.
You did feel a little bad since almost all these changes were only for your benefit. You had to preserve heat in this empty forest, but Miguel with his soft fluffy abdomen could remain shirtless all year round.
Your eyes softened affectionately at just the thought. Such a beautiful creature. He was a sight to behold when he stepped out into the cold dawn, where the heat of his muscles created a misty sheen of steam and his white breath curling around his fangs.
‘Arañita!’
You jumped in place as Miguel’s voice echoed from below for a second time. Shit, you’d been daydreaming about him so much you’d forgotten to go down. With fumbling hands you grabbed your bag and rushed out the open door.
‘COMING!’
Where once there was only a short sticky rope to descend from his home there was now a generous ladder, allowing you to easily clamber down to the floor.
Miguel was waiting, patient as ever, his legs gently tapping on the dirt as you approached.
‘Alright! I’m here, sorry. Had some- difficulty with the suit’ you called.
‘Ah, arañita. There you are.’ The joy that lit up his face every time he saw you never failed to make your legs weak.
‘Yep! Here I am.’
‘You look wonderful in that suit, by the way’ he noted as you rushed to his side. You took the time to scoff as you grabbed handfuls of his fur, using it as leverage to drag your body onto his back. His fluff was soft where it brushed your skin, and he smelled like grass dew and wet hair.
‘Oh my god- I knew it, you designed the suit to be too tight on me, didn’t you?’
‘I- well, yes. Is that an issue? Is it uncomfortable?’
You landed on his abdomen with an ‘oomph’ and shuffled forward, settling on his back like a great horse. Your hands wrapped themselves tight around his broad waist.
‘No, but- come on. Little bit pervy.’
‘I thought that was the nature of our relationship’ he argued. He tried desperately to catch your eye but in doing so began spinning in little circles, chasing his back as you continuously ducked out of the way. You took great pleasure in making him spin. ‘I like to look at you, yes. I get great physical joy from admiring your form. You are my mate. I thought this was normal. Is that not normal?’
‘Oh my god Mig—alright, come on! No more wasting daylight hours! Go! Go! Git!’
You gently and playfully kicked his side, urging him onward like a horse, but a firm glare from his bloody red eyes quickly brought you down into an apologetic cower.
‘Sorry! Sorry, uh- shall we, shall we go, darling? At your own discretion?’
He gave a curt nod and began strolling upward into the forest.
Today, he was finally taking you hunting.
The woods, once terrifying and unknowable to you, were slowly becoming a comforting norm. You gazed up at the dizzyingly high pines as Miguel walked upward to where the trees grew sparse and wide.
The early morning daylight trickled down in thin rays, their glow highlighting the tiny specks of dust and flitting little bugs as they passed you by.
This place felt old, untouched. It was cool beneath the heavy canopy above. You could hear nothing but the distant chirps of birds and the occasional creaking of an old tree. As you passed beneath those silent giants you clutched Miguel a little tighter.
‘You were talking in your sleep last night’ you whispered. Mig jumped. You’d been walking for almost ten minutes now in abject silence, so your voice was a surprise.
‘Ah- what was that, mi tesoro?’ he whispered back once he’d regained his composure. You bit down the urge to giggle.
‘Oh, sorry, um- you were talking in your sleep last night. That’s all I said.’
‘I was?’
‘Mhm. It’s very cute. You kept kicking your legs, kicking them and grunting, then you said something like don’t run so fast little one or wait for me and um- I think then you just kinda settled and went back to sleep. Like I said, very cute.’
Miguel rolled his shoulders as he continued strolling onward. You couldn’t tell from here what he was thinking.
‘Mm. I don’t- remember my dreams anymore, but, I know that they’re vivid. I remember the feelings but not the events. So- huh. I wonder what I dreamed about?’
‘I should stay up and keep an eye on you, try and sus it out’ you teased. He managed a breathy little snort of a laugh in response.
‘Ah, I’m not sure about that. What if I say something in my dreams that I shouldn’t?’
‘Oh, pft- like what? You gonna say someone else’s name? you don’t know anyone else, well except Miguel maybe, and if you said his name my first thought wouldn’t be that.’
‘I could still- imply something embarrassing’ he said with a shrug. You’d broached the top of the hills by this point and behind you the view was extraordinary, with small windows in the canopy giving you a perfect view of the city in the distance. Mig paused to turn and look at it with you mid conversation.
‘I could- I don’t know, admit some, sexual fetish I hadn’t even realized yet, some- deep interest in the back of my mind.’
You sighed as you rested on his bicep. With your arms still tight around his waist you gave him an affirming little squeeze. ‘You idiot’ you teasingly chided, ‘you admit everything to me anyway. This morning you immediately confessed that you designed my clothes for your own delight, and- wait, yeah, literally the FIRST day you started rutting you sat me down and told me in great detail your sexual fantasy. You are too honest to be worried about this.’
Another guttural choke escaped his throat, his strange little laugh that now filled you with joy to hear. ‘You are right, as always, my tesoro. I suppose it’s just my anxiety. I- suppose I’m just not used to anyone else being around when I sleep. It’s strangely vulnerable, no?’
‘Yeah, yeah. It’s weird, but, It’s nice though, right?’
You felt his fur bristle beneath you, the strands brushing your leg. Oh, you thought, that meant he was upset about something, right? But, why?
‘Is it?’ he murmured.
You turned and leaned around his torso to try and see his face more clearly, but right as you did so he turned himself and began walking deeper.
‘Hey, is something up?’ you gently pushed.
‘Ah, it… Sometimes- you pull away, at night, when we’re… cuddling.’ The way his voice dipped on the word cuddling, like he was embarrassed to be saying it in front of you. God, he was so sweet. ‘You shuffle away and I wake up without you. I- was worried you were uncomfortable with me.’
‘Oh, I love cuddling Mig! But doesn’t it bother you when you’re trying to sleep? I keep waking myself up because when I roll in my sleep you’re there and I keep thinking I’ll wake you up too.’
He let out a soft ‘humpf’ sound in response, clearly surprised by your response. ‘Ah- I don’t believe so. I haven’t slept any worse since you arrived, except, occasionally waking to check you’re okay.’
‘Oh. Huh. Well, you are… Big? I suppose is the best word? Big ol’ guy, you probably don’t feel me as much. But, like I was saying, I’m just not used to feeling something beside me when I sleep. I’m adjusting my brain to it, that’s all. it doesn’t mean I dislike you or dislike cuddling. We’re just uh- finding boundaries, now we live together.’
He seemed to perk up at the reminder that you were, technically, living together. Living together as partners, a concept he thought he would only ever dream out. He did a little rustle before bounding through the trees.
‘Alright, well, we’re almost there. Let me get you something to eat, mi arañita’
True to his word Mig became utterly focused on the hunt from that point onward.
He bayed you to settle down in the roots of a tree while he got into position, somewhere far enough to dampen your scent but close enough that you could see. He seemed desperate to have you witness him being productive, and you were curious enough to go along with his whims.
In this part of the forest the trees were sparser, allowing more vegetation to cover the dry earth. Miguel had said this gave him more cover for ambush, but you were still stumped as to how this giant man was supposed to hide himself even in the thickest growth. Even when pressed to the floor he was huge, as wide as he was long, covered in bright red and black fur.
Surely a deer would see that, right? Curiosity got the better of you, and you settled down in the roots to watch.
Mig started by feeling the vibrations in the dirt. He tapped at the floor, shuffling back and forth as he listened for something far beyond the scope of your own senses. You saw his eyes widen a few times, indicating that he’d felt something in the distance, and once he seemed sure he began the next unusual stage of this dance.
He dug. He dug into the earth with his enormous legs, filling out a small burrow in which his body could just about fit. He used his legs to drag foliage over his head, masking his scent and his body, until even you could barely see him at all.
And there, he waited. He waited, and waited, as clouds came to cover the sun. He waited in the gloom while you picked at your nails, waiting with a patience that frankly scared you to your core, until you both heard it.
A snap. A twig breaking.
A stag had entered the woods. Immediately you shuffled downward, lying as still as possible in the roots. Mig didn’t move an inch.
The stag was sniffing at the ground as it approached. You were certain that it would smell the enormous spider lying in wait, but somehow it just kept drifting closer and closer. You could see its head dipping to push through the grass, its snout flexing and snorting. Its breath condensed hard in the cool air.
Every muscle in your body tensed. You watched, your heart racing, as the stag went to sniff right over Migs head.
CRACK.
You jumped in your skin as he pounced.
It was terrifying. It was pure, primal, a spectacle of undiluted power. He moved with a speed that seemed impossible for something of his size, so large and yet so nimble, as his legs propelled him out of the dirt and onto the beast. It tried to run but his claws caught its neck.
With the sheer weight of his body he brought the bleating giant down. You saw a flash of his eyes, blood red with a single white pupil, right before he clamped his jaws on its neck.
It was over in seconds. The moment the deer stopped moving you scrambled out of the roots to join him.
‘Holy- shit, you’re so fast!’
Mig unclamped the catch with a soft grunt. You could see the blood on his jaw and neck which he immediately smeared with the back of his hand before facing you. He had such a strangely shy smile on his face.
‘Oh- you saw! You saw it. What did you think?’
‘It was… terrifying! Wow! You are- so, strong!’ you said with an awkward laugh. You left out how weirdly enjoyable it was to see him at full strength, to have witnessed the power and carnage he was capable of.
His grin widened as he took your comment at face value. ‘Thank you, arañita. That- makes me happy. I like showing you that I can be of use.’
‘Oh, Mig you idiot.’
You leaned in and affectionately touched his hair, gently brushing back the thick curls. He almost purred at the touch. ‘Now- jesus, let’s get you cleaned up and get home.’
You used a strip of silk from your back to try and clear his face, though he kept nestling into your hand which made it difficult to finish. Something about hunting for you seemed to make him especially soft. He would tap his feet for attention and rustle against you, and you would tut at him while secretly enjoying his touch.
That peaceful downtime did not last long though. As you were brushing yourself down, preparing to head back down, you noticed that Mig had stopped pacing. When you turned to check on him his eyes were wide.
‘Mig?’ you said softly. He didn’t move. You watched with ever growing curiosity as he began to dart his gaze across the forest line, almost as if he was looking for something. You followed his line of sight but could see nothing yourself.
It was only then, on the cusp of your lips parting to question Mig on what he was doing, that your senses picked up the same thing he had.
Your eyes locked in a moment of shared terror.
Footsteps. Distant footsteps, growing closer with every step. Idle chit chat that echoed in the trees, something about being lost and forgetting the map. You sensed a flask on an overstuffed backpack slowly clinking against a metal keychain.
‘Hikers’ you hissed. Mig gave a silent nod.
No, no, no. This was bad, you thought. What were people doing this far out? Why today of all days?
You didn’t want to risk a run in with civilians. You knew Mig was safe, but you also remembered how you’d acted the first time you saw him, and more importantly you remembered his distress at being seen.
Without another word you jumped into action, hopping his back in one fell swoop while he grabbed the kill by the nape of its hide. He lifted it as easily as a cat carrying a kitten, a feat you barely had time to appreciate, as he broke into a canter the moment you were mounted.
In silence you hurried back down the way you’d come.
For about half the way down it seemed to be smooth sailing. Mig made easy progress through the woods, his eight legs silently tapping back and forth on the mulchy earth as you descended to home. Your senses could feel the hikers getting further and further away.
In no time at all you saw the glade appear at the bottom of the hill, a tiny little circle in a sea of evergreen pines slowly sinking downward. You let out a contented sigh.
But then you felt it.
You felt It.
That foreboding tug in your gut. The gentle throbbing that sank down through your insides, the pulsing of blood as your heart sped up. The yearning, the need, the subconscious addictive pleading for satisfaction.
No, no, no, NO. You couldn’t stop here, right? The hikers weren’t far enough away yet.
You shuffled, trying to secretly suppress it, when Miguel abrupted stumbled to a halt himself. You heard him drop the stag with a thump.
Shit. You could smell it. It was heavy in the air, a smell you couldn’t describe with words but which you felt in your loins. He was rutting too.
Your eyes rolled. Oh that smell, it gave you goosebumps. That smell alone dragged you to him like a magnetic force.
‘Arañita?’
His words were soft as he spoke. Those were dangerous words, hungry words.
‘Mig?’
You felt so small on his back as his shoulders arched. You had to tilt your head to see his face, to see the bright glow of his eyes as his head instinctively tilted sideways. You balked. Those eyes were fucking starving.
‘Mig’ you breathed.
His abdomen vibrated softly, rustling against your skin in a way that sent pleasurable shivers through your thighs and spine. You shuddered against him. ‘Mig, don’t—careful—’
He breathed out hard, his breath condensing in the air. ‘Ah… Arañita …’
It curled like smoke around his bloody maw. His full lips parted and he breathed in through the mouth, releasing a dark and foreboding growl. ‘Ah…’
‘Mig—we need to get back—’
He was breathing heavier now. You could see his enormous spider legs quivering as he fought the urge slowly infecting his mind. The urge to pin, to fill, to penetrate, to feel. The urge to claim. The urge to see your pretty form, naked and sweating and shaking as you struggled to take him, as you were fucked to the brim with his very being.
When he huffed smoke for a second time a breathy moan escaped his throat. It was a mating call, plain and simple, echoing through the trees.
‘Mig… Mig…’
It was pitiful; your pleading had gone from genuine concern to depraved praise as you whispered his name over and over again. While you pleaded Mig struggled to focus on his senses. His body was begging, screaming even, to take you now, but he could just feel the hikers still approaching their location.
‘We need- to get back- to the nest’ he panted. You didn’t even respond.
At this point you were broken, involuntarily grinding your hips into his fur for any semblance of relief. Your body was burning to the point that sweat was sticking your suit to the contours of your skin, highlighting every little dip and curve.
‘Miggy—’
‘Arañita!’
His bark of an order made you mewl.
‘We need- to get back—’
‘O-Okay’ you whined. Slowly, painfully, Miguel began to continue his walk down the hillside towards the glade.
It was agony. You’d gotten so used to instant gratification that pushing through the need was now hellish, especially combined with the need to run.
It was an itchy heat, a prickling heat, and as your blood began to pump you felt your insides begin to pulsate. Throb after throb, each harder than the last, as every muscle inside you twitched and tensed around a cock that wasn’t there.
You could feel his body beneath you. You could sense him, feel him in every part of your body. All you could think about was feeling more, tasting more, as that desperate curdling need to feel his cock inside you flooded all of your senses. It was physically unbearable.
‘Don’t’ your mind screamed as you pulled at his fur.
‘Don’t do it’ his mind pleaded as he forced himself forward.
But you were no match for each other’s potent smell. No risk, not even death, felt important compared to that burning ache.
You collapsed from his body and into the dirt with a low moan, unable to maintain yourself any longer. Miguel descended on you in seconds.
You squeaked and squirmed as he gripped you in his claws. He pounced like you were prey. He flipped and thrust your body down onto its back, his gruff hands immediately pinning your arms to the floor. The frail little bones in your wrists screamed out at the pressure.
‘Mig!’
He hissed and flexed his teeth on your neck, hot breath cascading over your skin as the smell of musky hormones and blood filled your nose.
‘I can’t- wait—’ he panted. You could already feel his abdomen rubbing and grinding on you, his slit unable to contain his erection any longer. You could feel the thick, warm shaft smearing your new suit with his thick, pearly pre-cum. ‘I need- you, please- I need it- it hurts—’
You knew it was dangerous, but your brain was a melted pot of red hot lust. You couldn’t fight it anymore. With a soft whine you lay back and turned your head to the side, frantically nodding for him to continue.
‘Okay, fuck—I can’t wait, fuck—just, be quick, please’ you panted.
He didn’t even bother to fully undress you. With a hiss he bent and ripped a hole in your suit with his mouth, a dangerous tactic as his teeth brushed your pussy lips as he tore the silk aside. He took one deep sniff of your pheremones before physically dragging your body into position.
He forced your legs into a mating press, his hefty torso straining the muscles in your thighs to bend to his will. He rustled slightly as he pushed into position, roughly edging his bulbous member against your slit, and as you felt the first inch spreading you open you knew it was over.
‘Okay, okay’ he panted, ‘shh- sh, stay still for me arañita, let me just—fill you—’
He thrust, hard, and with one excruciatingly tight stretch he was inside you again.
‘M-MM--!’ Your hips bucked and tensed, rocking from side to side as you struggled to adjust. Miguel gasped like he’d just avoided drowning.
‘Ah—ahh—that’s it, that’s it. I’ll be- quick, just- stay still, mi tesoro, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’
The moment he entered you he started to frantically rut to completion, his abdomen jerking back and forth as he fucked you into the dirt. Your fingers dug into his arms.
‘MM--!’ It was painful to hold back your screams. You had to bite your tongue until it bled, until the taste of iron filled your mouth and nose, all in a vain attempt to not be caught. He was so fucking rough.
‘Sweet little spider’ he whined. You felt him thrust a little deeper and squirmed with joy at the familiar mixture of ache and pleasure.
‘It’s… ‘S so good’ you whispered in a needy, whiney breath. ‘So—good…’
Desperate now to finish quickly, Miguel angled himself a little further back. He needed the one thing that he couldn’t resist, his most primal indulgence. He wanted to see it. Your small, soft, sweet human body, perfectly impaled on his enormous shaft. The sight sent full body shivers through his spine.
‘So… tight…’
He looked utterly pussy drunk, mesmerised almost. He watched your slick coat his cock as he drew back, those translucent sticky strings hanging between his abdominal fur and your pretty little slit. They made his black veins glisten as they pulsed against your swollen cunt.
‘Mi… aranita��’
He stared, unblinking, as he moved his hand and began touching the spot where he’d entered you. He brushed his thumb down and across your swollen clit, those wet and messy folds, until it came to rest where his shaft was splitting you open. He watched you swallow him whole.
‘Pretty, pretty little spider’ he whispered. ‘F-fuck…’  
He watched your hips jolt as he gave a few short pumps about halfway in, fixated on the way you stretched and wriggled with pleasure. His previous seed was now oozing out at the sides as he pumped in and out, just adding to the absolute mess you were making.
‘So, so… pretty…’
You felt his claws suddenly hit your neck, pressing you down until you were forced to be still. He continued to watch with wide and unblinking eyes as his thick rod squished back and forth, back and forth, filling you until you bulged before slowly slipping out with a wet pop.
‘Mm- mm—’
He was grunting hard as he moved.
‘So, fucking, pretty—’
‘Is it this way?’
Your whole body went rigid at the sound of unfamiliar voices, but you didn’t even have time to process your shock, because Miguel didn’t stop.
Even as the voices got louder he continued rutting you into the floor, his breathy grunts just barely audible in the rustling undergrowth.
You silently slapped at his arm but he couldn’t bring himself to pause. He impulsively clamped his hand over your mouth, his eyes deadly and starved as they stared down at your panicked expression.
‘Stay. Quiet’ he mouthed. Despite your fear, you were just as needy. You let him have you.
He bent your legs into your ribs just to slip deeper, his thick shaft eagerly kissing and smearing your cervix with pre-cum. Your breath was hot on his calloused hand as it muffled your desperate moans.
Despite his rational mind knowing that he needed to be quiet, Mig’s carnal desperation was driving him towards risky behaviour. You could hear the clap of his skin between your thighs echo with each wet pop as he pushed in and out, a symphony just as terrifying as it was erotic.
You watched him savor the feel of your body. You watched him as he experienced you.
‘Ah—ahh—ah—’
He flexed his jaw until it hurt trying to suppress his cries of pleasure, and in a second moment of impulse he bent down and sank his fangs into your shoulder. Your squeaks were silenced.
Now clamped by the terrifying power of his maw you were utterly surrendered. You could feel his teeth moving in tandem with his cock, filling and shifting inside you, flooding you with that same potent mixture of pain and pleasure.
You raked your fingers down his back, drawing red lines into his rough scarred skin. He dug his claws into the dirt.
The footsteps got closer, but there was no breaking free. You were trapped together. With a muffled grunt Miguel sped up to completion.
‘MMFF—’
He came inside you silently, with all his gutteral noises muffled by your skin. You felt it all the same. The heavy spurts, the hot seed flooding in and squirting against his soft underside when your cunt ran out of room. You were filled until you bulged.
In the high of that release you were nearly dizzy. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hormones overpowered any rational fear about being seen. All you could do was lull and whine, relishing the sweet gratification of being filled again.
‘Mig’ you whispered. ‘My Mig. You—’
Snap.
Your eyes shot open.
You tilted your head, slowly, just enough for your eyes to roll and spy the woods behind you. Two hikers were frozen in place, their bodies just barely obscured by the trunk of a pine.
They were staring at you. You, your body pinned beneath the torso of your half spider mate, still fully impaled on his monstrous cock, with your head in his neck and your flesh in his maw.
Your blood ran cold as your body tensed. To say you were mortified was an understandment, it felt like your heart might give out. You felt Miguel’s breath steaming against your shoulder as he panted into it. Did he know? Had he realized?
You opened your mouth but no sound spare a painful squeak escaped. Your brain was utterly fried.
The one to break the tension then was Mig, who decided to release your shoulder and stare directly at the two strangers. Mouth bloodied, eyes red, his naked body straining and panting for air.
Their reaction was swift.
‘FUCK!’
The two hikers almost fell over each other as they ran, both frantically fleeing for their lives into the overgrown brush.
‘JESUS- CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT?!’
‘WAS IT EATING THEM?!’
‘F-Fuck, FUCK! I DON’T KNOW JUST- GO!’
‘We have to call for help—’
‘JUST RUN JUST- FUCKING RUN!!’
As the screams grew distant, you felt Miguel slowly pull out. His hands were quick to plug you up and carefully stitch your suit back together at the crotch, but you were too exhausted to move.
‘Shhiittt.’
It was the only thing you could think to say as you lay back in the mud, your head still a little woozy from the whole experience. Mig just grunted.
‘Shit, shit, shit. Ah…. I’m- I’m sure it’s fine. It’s fine. I- fuck, are you okay Mig?’
He grunted again as he lifted you up into his arms. His spider legs hooked the stag’s carcass and carefully manoeuvred it onto his back, allowing him to begin the short final trek back to the clearing with you still in his arms. The longer he went without saying a word, the more you began to worry.
‘Mig?’
You patted his cheek as he walked, trying in vain to get his attention. His only response was to sigh.
‘It’s okay’ you said, your voice now rather timid. ‘It’s fine, they- we probably won’t ever see them again. And hey, we didn't have to fight them! That's good, right? They just- left.’
‘It’s not that.’
You were surprised when words finally left his mouth, especially when they were delivered so sadly. He was blunt, yes, but not usually this melancholy, especially after sex.
‘What is it then?’ you asked. It took him a few more seconds to reply.
‘They thought… I was eating you’ he murmured. ‘If I’d been anyone else, they wouldn’t have screamed. We would have been- yelled at, perhaps, or chastised for being perverts. Maybe they’d have just, awkwardly moved away. But they would never have assumed I was eating you.’
The sombre reality sank in slowly. Somehow, you’d both forgotten the reality of what this was. What he was. You tried to shrug it off. ‘Wait, that’s what you’re worried about? I mean… If you were just, purely human, they might have still assumed you were murdering me. People can do murder too yanno.’
He managed a small, throaty chuckle at your light teasing, but it was strained. He looked distant, distracted, alone in his own mind. You gently shook his arm to drag him back down to reality.
‘Hey. It’s fine. You’re fine’ you repeated.
‘Does it not, bother you? The way they reacted?’
‘Mig I would have been mortified to be caught like that whether you were fully human or not’ you scoffed. He seemed unconvinced.
‘If they’d- seen us, holding hands’ he said, slowly musing over the theoretical aloud, ‘if they’d seen us… kissing, or even just sitting together, they would have run. They would still be terrified.’
It was hard to maintain a smile in the face of his dour prediction. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want to simmer in that pool of despair, and you didn’t want him to wallow in it either.
‘People- when they see something they don’t understand, they, react like animals. Sometimes they run, sometimes they fight. They squash it so you don’t have to think about it. It’s easier.’
That morbid thought made him wince, but you refused to let go. You leaned in and tilted his head back towards you.  
‘And it’s horrible. It’s horrible, and it hurts, but then there’s other people. Other people, who- know what it’s like, to be the- scared little spider on the wall. And they know, Mig. They knew. I know. And I’m not scared of you.’
To your joy he managed to shoot you a ghost of a smile, just the barest tilting of his lips. It was enough for you, even if you’d only managed to distract him for a bit.
‘Besides, who do we have to disappoint?’ you said in an attempt to lighten to mood. ‘I don’t have friends to introduce you too, or family, or co-workers. You’re alone. We don’t need to worry about what people think.’
‘You say that now, arañita, but… I don’t know, I don’t feel like that will remain true forever. I also don’t appreciate you indulging my possessive nature.’
‘Awh, what? How, what did I do?’
‘Implying we’re all we’ve got’ he said softly. ‘It makes me- happy, but on some level, I know it shouldn’t.’
‘Well, hey! You know it shouldn’t, so- you know, that’s a start.’
Mig ducked his head beneath a row of branches as he re-entered the clearing. In the clear, bright light of the burgeoning sun he looked glorious.
‘Yes, but—I also know that I willingly ignore that fact and, pretend it is acceptable’ he confessed with a slight shrug. ‘Because- well, it comforts me, especially when I’m reminded that we are… different, to put it nicely.’
‘Well, as long as you’re not getting feisty, huh? I’ll just be sure to let you know if it ever gets annoying’ you offered. You pressed your face against his pec, right over his heart, and tapped it like you were making a promise. He gave you that sweet little ghost of a smile.
‘Very well, mi tesoro. I will hold you to that.’
You allowed Mig to drop the kill near the base of the nest before climbing back in with you still in his arms. You lulled a little in the sudden warmth, placated by the warm orange rays of sunlight warming the floor, and the moment he slid you onto the bed you collapsed into it.
‘Mmm… Yanno, that was the first time we were under such pressure from the heat that you didn’t make me orgasm’ you noted with a yawn. It was more a dry observation than a real problem you had, but it immediately caused Mig to bristle in horror.
‘I- oh, no you’re right. You poor little spider.’
‘It’s okay! I don’t blame you, it—HEY!’
You squealed with delight as he dove onto the mattress, his weight flinging your body a few feet into the air before landing back into his already outstretched arms.
‘Let me fix that’ he purred, his breath brushing your ear. ‘Please, mi aranita, let me taste you again.’
With an eager grunt his lips met yours, his abdomen rustling with excitement as his tongue went down your throat. You were smothered in seconds.
You gave in to his whining need to please and relished in the chance to scream again, your wet lips quivering his name with each breath as he tore your third new suit to pieces for just a lick of your cunt.
You were too focused on his mouth to notice anything as you tossed every item of clothing to the floor. Between his whiny moans and your own panting, you couldn’t have possibly heard anything else.
You certainly couldn’t have heard your society watch as it buzzed against the fur rug, the name ‘Jess’ highlighted in clear orange light. It was left to ring to voicemail instead, with neither of you aware it’d even gone off. Link to next part!
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to-thelakes ¡ 8 months ago
Note
Luke sleeps like a starfish when he's alone. Taking up all the space in the bed without Roxy next to him but on a case you have to share a room with him. It only has one bed
okay, i wasn't entirely sure what ask to reply to since what i am about to give you is a combination of 4 (not 3 as i told you last night (whoops)) asks that you have sent in! i just kind of got carried away and this one-shot is just SO CUTE. i'm gonna leave the prompts i combined for this below and then there will be the one-shot
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so please enjoy the chaos below
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star-fishing
pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader
summary; luke helps you clean up after a fight with an unsub.
warnings; fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, one-bed trope, description of injuries (and cleaning them up), reader is down-bad for luke, a little bit of teasing and kissing
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“Ow,” You hissed softly as Luke gently ran the cotton swab across your forehead. The Unsub had got you pretty bad but you had insisted that the medics didn’t need to clean you up. Which meant that Luke was doing it now. He was wedged between your thighs as you sat up on the hotel bathroom sink. The first-aid kit was laid out next to you but he was focusing on cleaning the blood from your skin for now.
The hand holding the cotton swab rested against your head as he swiped away the blood while the other had a hold of your face, keeping your head level. Luke was so close to your face. You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks as you tried to decide what to look at. The heat was creeping up your cheeks despite your best attempts to keep your bubbling feelings at bay.
“Sorry,” Luke muttered, “I’m nearly done,” He added, briefly meeting your gaze before he returned back to the wound. There wasn’t much blood left so now he was doing his best to disinfect the wound. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked at first which gave him a sense of relief.
“I could have done it myself,” You said after a beat of silence. You couldn’t tear your gaze off his face. His eyes were boring into you and his hand was so warm against your cheek. You were sure he could feel the heat that had rushed to them but you tried not to think about it. He didn’t even notice as you admired his face.
His stubble had grown in a little since he hadn’t had the chance to shave and it somehow made that rugged yet soft look more prominent. His lips were so full and kissable. Every part of you wanted to just grab his face and snog him, fulfil the urge that had been clawing its way to the forefront of your mind for weeks. The feeling of his stubble and his lips pressed against yours would make it so easy to forget everything, you were sure of it. But you had to fight the urge.
You and Luke were friends. That was all you had been and probably all you would be.
His cheeks were slightly red from the heat of the bathroom and his chest was resting so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His skin was so warm, you could have melted into him. Your hands always seemed to run cold and you desperately wanted to shove them underneath his hoodie to warm them up but you didn’t. It was unprofessional and he would complain about feeling cold himself.
You averted your gaze from his face, letting your eyes rove over his shoulders and down his arms. Even in the hoodie, you could see how built he was. But Luke wasn’t like the other muscular guys you had known. Usually, they were arrogant and the muscles were purely for vanity. Luke’s at least served a purpose outside of boosting his ego. 
But what confused you was how gentle he was despite the muscles. When you first met him, years ago, you had expected him to manhandle you. If you got hurt, you expected him to be frustrated but he was always so gentle. All the strength he held turned to softness and he held your face so gently as he took care of you. It was so disconcerting and it was far from what you were used to when it came to men but it made you feel safe.
Luke made you feel safe.
That was probably why you spent so much time around him. It was easy to be around him because he was such a teddy bear when he wasn’t trying to do his job. It made it easy to talk to him. He was so easy to talk to and you didn’t know how to deal with the feelings that he gave you. You had told yourself that you would never mix work life and your love life but Luke made that so hard.
You felt his gaze shift and his eyes traveled over your face. He could see how nervous you had suddenly become and he nudged your cheek with his thumb. Your eyes jumped up to meet his gaze and smiled at home.
Luke chuckled softly before he pulled back, a hand still rested against your face as he flipped the cotton bud. He dipped the clean end into the bottle of disinfectant before he returned to the wound on your forehead.
“Your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you punched him in the face,” Luke stated. It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about. The Unsub. You scoffed, balling your fists. He was right even if you didn’t want him to be. 
You dug your nails into your hand, hoping that maybe it would stop them, “I just-” He paused as he adjusted his hand so that he could tilt your face up to make sure everything was disinfected properly, “don’t want this to get infected.” You rolled your eyes before letting them close. It was sweet that he cared so much.
“I nearly had him,” You muttered after a moment. He chuckled, looking at you and tilting your head slightly. In the fluorescent lights of the hotel bathroom, it looked pretty clean and so he dropped the cotton bud into the bin. His hand left your face and his body moved from between your thighs as he searched for an appropriately sized plaster in the first-aid kit. You unclenched your fists but your hands were still shaky.
“We’ll get him,” Luke reaffirmed as he grabbed a couple of band-aid options. He then stepped back between your thighs.
“I know. We got lucky finding him the first day here,” You said after a moment. Luke nodded and he began to compare plasters for your forehead cut. He tilted your chin slightly to make sure it was the right size and once he was sure, he dropped the rest of the options before he ripped it open.
“Would have saved us sharing a bed,” Luke muttered, glancing at your face to gauge how you reacted. You pouted playfully, cocking an eyebrow.
“Don’t pretend you’re not gonna love it,” You stated, a teasing smile on your lips. Luke chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. 
“Uh-huh,” He muttered softly. He shifted the band-aid on your forehead before deciding on the position. He then pulled the backing off and stuck it down against your skin. He ran his thumb over it, smoothing it down before he stood back.
“It’s beginning to sound like you want to be in bed with me, The great Luke Alvez never ignores a teasing comment,” You continued to taunt him as he checked over the rest of your face. Aside from the bruises and busted lip, you seemed to be mostly okay. There were no immediate cuts and you didn’t have a concussion
“How’s your lip?” He asked, avoiding your comment. You shrugged, your finger coming up to gently press against the cut. It was busted, it wasn’t great but it wasn’t as painful as you had expected. The pain mostly just blended into the background.
“Could be worse,” You shrugged. Luke nodded, “Just for the record, we are having a pillow wall. I’m only teasing,” You said. Luke smiled up at you, he tilted his head slightly as he looked into your eyes. Your eyes kept shifting anxiously, you were picking at the nails on your hand without even realising it, “And before you get an ego boost, I am only doing this because I didn’t have another choice.” There was a teasing lilt to your tone, a smile on your lips which completely contrasted the anxious movements of your hands. 
He chuckled at your comment, it was a deep chuckle and it made a grin crawl onto your face. It was hard to resist despite the pain that it caused your busted lip. It was such an easy laugh from Luke, you wanted to hear it forever. His hands rested at his side, a green hoodie covering his usual button-up. He looked so soft and domestic, it was hard not to admire him.
“You could have shared a room with Rossi,” Luke suggested. You scoffed and shook your head vehemently.
“No. That man snores. I can hear him through the walls, if I was in the same room as him, I would commit a homicide.” Luke chuckled again and stepped back to help you down from the counter. You let out a soft sigh. You were so tired but you felt so dirty. Sweat, mud and the smell of the local PD was clinging to you and you wanted to shower it off so badly.
“I guess you’re stuck with me then,” He teased. You huffed out, pretending to be annoyed but you really didn’t mind. Part of you wondered if Emily had set it up so that you and Luke had to share a room. Her, JJ, Penelope and Spencer had already confronted you about your possible feelings for Luke at monthly pasta night. So, it wasn’t a hard leap to make but you didn’t want to assume - or make a fool of yourself.
“Yeah but you’re not watching me shower so get out,” You said, shaking yourself out of your thoughts, “I know you’d love it but not tonight mister.” You felt a little awkward and clunky teasing Luke the more your feelings rose to the surface but you tried to keep it up. Your relationship was built on teasing each other and if you stopped, Luke would be suspicious. You were not gonna let that happen.
“Not tonight?” He asked, a mischievous smile on his face, “So another night?” He asked. You scoffed and smacked his chest playfully.
“Play your cards right and maybe,” You stated before you urged him out of the bathroom. He chuckled as he threw his hands up in mock defense.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” You sent him a teasing smile before you closed the door behind him. Once you were sure it was locked, you stripped out of your work clothes and walked over to the full-length mirror. You had fallen pretty badly during your fight with the Unsub and there was already a pretty nasty (and massive) bruise blooming across your hip.
You gently prodded at it before you checked over the rest of your body. Except for a few bruises on your knees and arms from hitting the ground, you were fine. So, you switched the shower on and waited for it to heat up before getting under the spray. The warmth soothed your skin and you did your best to keep your hair and face out of the spray. You didn’t want the band-aid to peel off and by some miracle, you managed to not get it wet.
After scrubbing the grime of the day off your body, you got out of the shower and slipped a towel around your waist. The shower made you look a little more sane and you dragged your to-go bag from beside the door onto the counter so that you could change into your pajamas. 
Thankfully, you had packed the more modest pajama option for this trip so you were in long pajama pants and a comfy vest. You took your time going through your night-routine just so you could calm your anxiety. The thought of sharing a bed with Luke was obviously fine but it made you feel nervous and giddy. Nothing was going to happen but you hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since your last partner so it just felt strange. 
After taking a few deep breaths, you stepped out into the bedroom to find Luke star-fished on the hotel bed. His head was buried in the middle of the pillows and he seemed to be asleep. He wasn’t even under the covers so it was hard to tell if he had actually conked out or not. You also couldn’t see his face. He might just have been resting for all you knew. 
Either way, he was in his own pajamas. Well pajama pants. He had neglected to wear a top which you didn’t really mind; it was a good view.
“Move over,” You stated as you walked over to the bed. Luke’s shoulders shifted at the sound of your voice and he lifted his head, eyes opening groggily. Had he been asleep? You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Clearly the day had taken it out of him, “I’m sleeping in this bed too,” You added. Luke let out something incoherent before he reluctantly shuffled over. His head buried in the pillows again and you couldn’t help but smile softly. He was so sleepy, it was adorable, “Lights on or off?” You asked after a beat.
“Off,” Luke grumbled. His voice was thick with sleep which just made you smile even wider. You had never seen him like this before and your earlier assertion that he was like a teddy bear only seemed to be more accurate. 
Before taking your place in bed, you switched the big light off and trudged back over. The room was plunged into almost complete darkness but you could still navigate your way around relatively easily. You dropped into your side of the bed and tugged at the duvet.
Luke was still half-asleep on top of the covers and his hulking form was making it very difficult to move the covers comfortably around you. You let out a groan of annoyance as you tugged a few times with no avail.
“Luke,” You whined as you tugged again. He grumbled something incoherent and rolled over. Well, that was helpful, “Luke,” You complained again, tugging harder but it did nothing. You let out a soft huff and got up onto your knees. You leant over Luke and poked his cheek. He grunted in annoyance before attempting to swat whatever was poking him. But you evaded and did it again. He mumbled something incoherent again and you poked once more. His eyes reluctantly opened and you chuckled.
“You’re hogging the duvet,” You stated. Luke looked up at you, leaning over him and his eyes blinked closed for a moment before he let out a grumble. He then grabbed your waist and tugged you on top of him. You let out a yelp as you landed against his chest, “I’m cold,” You muttered. Luke wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer.
“I’ll keep you warm,” He muttered as he snuggled up to you. Part of you just wanted to give in to this fate. It was comfortable and Luke was a human radiator but your toes were cold and Luke was half-asleep. It felt like you were taking advantage.
So, instead, you opted to poke at his chest and face a few times as you said his name softly, asking him to get off the covers. It took him a moment but eventually he opened his eyes again. It was a split second but when he realized what he was doing, his eyes popped open. All traces of sleep disappeared from his features and he let go of you immediately.
“I did not- I didn’t realize- I-” Luke began, stumbling over his words as he shuffled to sit up against the headboard. You giggled at his flustered reaction as you crawled over to your side of the bed again, “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-” He continued to try and excuse himself but when he realized that you were laughing. His eyebrows furrowed, “What?”
“You really know how to woo a girl,” You teased. His eyebrows furrowed and you tugged the covers back, “I think you’re half-asleep self is better at flirting with me.” You knew that you were stepping into dangerous territory with that comment but you couldn’t help yourself. It was endearing to see him so sleepy and touchy and you were also exhausted which made you a little more bold than you would like to admit. Luke was stunned by your reaction, “Come on, let me get under the covers. I’m freezing and I’ll set up a pillow wall. Avoid any more half-asleep kidnappings.” Luke watched you for a moment before he finally moved, “But if you are gonna cuddle me in my sleep, I’m not gonna object.” You were acting so confident but your heart was thudding in your chest as you moved to grab a pillow.
But when you turned back, Luke was just looking at you. He didn’t seem to know what to say as he looked into your eyes. You tilted your head to the side slightly but just as you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, he had tugged you towards him again.
“I want to kiss you,” He stated. You stared at him, your eyes widened as he looked at you, “Can I?” He asked. You nodded your head and he grabbed your face, pulling you to him. Your lips connected so softly. He was being so cautious of your busted lip and you melted into him. He only gave you a few soft short kisses before he pulled back a little. You reopened your eyes to look at him and he looked completely love-struck.
“Do it again,” You urged as you moved one hand to wrap around his neck. He grinned and tugged you into his lap before kissing you again. It was so soft and he let you take the lead as you adjusted your body to get a better angle, not disconnecting your lips for even a second. You were right. His lips were so soft and they made it impossible to think about anything but the two of you kissing in that moment.
Your head tilted to the side as you kissed him over and over again, his tongue ran across your bottom lip and you let him in without a second thought. His hands moved from your face to your hips and he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you as close as he could. His tongue explored your mouth as you held his face, whining softly as your fingers ran through his hair. 
A groan escaped his lips when you tugged at his roots and you let out a breathless giggle. He smirked and opened his eyes briefly before he let them fall closed again. You tugged him closer, hand cupping his jaw as you continued to connect your lips. Your fingers scritched at the stubble and you felt how he melted underneath your touch.
It was exactly what you needed.
The two of you kissed till you were breathless and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his. Your breaths mingled together as you panted, arms moving to wrap around his chest as you gently nudged your noses against each other.
“If I knew getting in the same bed with you would get me this, I would have done it ages ago,” You mumbled. Luke chuckled, his eyes closing as you moved your hand to rest against his chest, feeling the way that his chest rumbled with laughter, “Mhm, the wait was worth it though,” You said after a beat. Luke tugged you closer.
“More than worth it,” He muttered as he pressed a few kisses to your face and cheek and forehead. It was so sweet and you felt yourself melting into him.
“I think it’s time to sleep though,” You mumbled softly. Luke hummed in agreement and he shuffled back so that he could lie down. You were laying on top of him as he tugged the covers over the two of you, “My hands are cold,” You grumbled. Luke chuckled and he grabbed your wrists and tugged your hands underneath his back. The two of you shuffled to be comfortable before he wrapped his arms around your waist again.
“Better?” He asked. You hummed in agreement before cuddling up to his bare chest, eyes falling closed. You fell asleep, content against his chest with a sheepish smile on your face.
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thebestofoneshots ¡ 1 year ago
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.5 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: We need to talk. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.
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Chapter 24: Peace of Mind
10:00 November 24th, 1976
You waited for the girls to fall asleep and used a combination of spells to sneak out without being noticed. Lily had changed your bandages before bed and you had gladly let her, Sirius’ words reverberating in your head as she did “ Don’t be so stubborn and let us help!”
Perhaps you’d have to use those same words with Remus later on. Little after telling him you were sorry for hurting him so bad and asking him to please not hate you for the rest of his life. As you walked towards the infirmary with the disillusionment charm, the same charm you had used so often since you arrived at Hogwarts that you had pretty much mastered it. Your charm was almost as deceiving as James’ invisibility cloak, logically you knew it’d never match its greatness, but you could definitely get close.
At least enough to sneak past Peeves who was busy rearranging all the portraits on one of the halls so they were all upside down, you heard the paintings complain as he shook them about for good measure. You winced, I wouldn’t want to be any of those portraits, you thought, but continued on your way to the infirmary. As you walked you pulled the sleeves of your quidditch sweater over your hands, the temperature had dropped a little that night and you felt a stark contrast between the cold you felt then and how hot you had felt earlier in the passages with Sirius, you flushed a little when the images came back you your mind, the hunger you had felt had been so overwhelming it felt like a dream. 
You took another breath, still feeling cold. Was being sensible to temperature changes also because of the bit of lycanthropy running through your system at that point? Did poor Remus have to deal with them so often? Maybe that was why he always carried around some kind of sweater, in case it got chilly and he felt it a little more strongly than the rest. 
Once you arrived at the big infirmary doors you looked at them for a minute and waited, taking a deep breath as you stared. You had gotten word that Pomfrey usually retired to her chambers at 11:30 PM, after curfew and once she made sure all the children in the infirmary –if there were any– had fallen asleep. Her chambers were close enough so she could rush back in, in case of an emergency with the children, and she had some house elves check on the children often. 
You were thankful you had made friends with Myrtle since she had been the one to provide you with so much detailed information. Information that she had eavesdropped out a couple of years ago when Sirius, James and Peter were planning how to get into the infirmary since no one allowed them to visit Remus. 
You had also gone to talk to Numbletwist earlier that day, to try and figure out if there would be any elves in the infirmary that night. She shook her head, telling you that they were often called off when students got sick around the full moon. She said it was probably because Poppy liked to stay extra attentive of things. You had nodded and thanked her profusely for the information. Scurrying away with the excuse of needing to rest before she asked why you wanted to know. 
You heard a bit of rattling and then one of the doors opened up, she walked outside, using her wand to illuminate her path, and you sneaked in and hid behind one of the beds, even if you still had the disillusionment charm, you knew it was better safe than sorry. And Poppy definitely had better eyesight than most witches her age. She turned off the rest of the lights in the infirmary and closed the door behind her, but you stayed crouching behind the bed. 
You stood there, breathing steady as you slowly pushed yourself up to peer over the bed and check whether Remus was asleep or awake. He seemed to be waiting for Poppy to leave too, since a couple of minutes later he lifted himself up, accommodating a pillow and pulling his wand out. He used Lumus to see better as he looked through the drawer of his night table, grabbing onto a book and settling it over his lap. 
Great, Remus really had no plan to sleep soon then, you shrank into Vixen and walked over to Remus, sneaking in below his bed and onto the other side, where you could keep an eye on the door just in case. Once you manage to collect your thoughts you sprung back into human form. Remus jumped from his spot in the bed when you appeared out of nowhere. 
“Sorry to startle you,” you whispered with a bit of a frown, regret evident in your tone. 
“Little Witch?” he asked as he blinked a couple of times, trying to decipher if the way the low blue light from the stars and the waning moon shone behind your figure was all part of a dream or whether you really were there again. In truth, he had smelled you minutes earlier, but he assumed perhaps he was just picking up your scent from the chocolates you kept bringing over, or he was so drudged with potions that he was now smelling you like you really were there. And it wouldn’t be uncommon, he had dreamed of you so often lately that you standing there might really just be yet another one. But the way the light cast a halo behind you was too realistic to be part of his imagination “What are you doing here?” 
“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said simply. 
Remus stiffened and froze as if he had seen a basilisk, but then shook his head “I wasn’t… I didn’t–” 
“–It’s ok,” you cut him off “I get it, I understand why you wouldn’t want to see me, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was stubborn and I’m sorry I jinxed you and I’m sorry I had the Whomping Willow throw you to the side and I’m sorry Prongs had to gore you, several times because I couldn’t run fast enough and I’m sorry I–“ 
Remus reached for your hand, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt a small shock of electricity, “hey!” he said softly “I wasn’t avoiding you because I’m angry at you.” 
Remus’ hand was warm and soft, not as soft as Sirius’ but not as tough as you imagined it would be. “Then why?” 
“I– I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” he admitted, his hand on yours tightening “After the moon I was terrified the reason you’d come to see me was… to say goodbye. Because the friend that you thought you had was a monster, and because I couldn’t control myself as a wolf and because I’m bIoody dangerous to be around.” 
That was the second time Remus called himself a monster in front of you, you’d have none of it, “Remus,” you said, leaning in a little closer “You’re not a monster.” 
“I’m pretty sure werewolves fit in the category damn nicely,” he responded bitterly. 
“I give three fucks if they fit in the monster category, in the extra dangerous being category or in the beasts section of the library. You, Remus. My Remus, are not a monster.” 
Perhaps Remus would have realised the way you had used his name had it not been with how wrapped up in his own head he was “I could’ve killed you.” 
“You didn’t.” 
He averted your gaze “Could’ve bitten you. That’s what the wolf wanted, you know? To bite you. To turn you.” 
“But you didn’t,” you insisted. “And even if you had, we would’ve found a way to deal with it.” 
“Like how? After a bite there’s no way back, trust me, I would know.” 
“I didn’t say we’d find a way to revert it, I said we’d deal with it. Remus, I’d rather be a werewolf than lose you.” 
“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m awful.” I’m crushing on your boyfriend, and on you for fucks sake, he thought “You’d be better off–“
You wouldn’t let him finish that phrase “–don’t bullshit me like that,” you said sternly “There isn’t a bIoody universe in which I’d be better off without you, on which any of us would. Not one!” 
“But I hurt you. Even as you ran, I chased behind you and then I dug my claws on–“ 
“–It was a scratch.”
“Stop cutting me off, damn it!” he spat, a little annoyed. “And it wasn’t a scratch, Peter told me how you shivered all night.” 
“Well then stop saying stupid shit and I will stop cutting you off!” you responded exasperated.  Then you sighed, placing one of your hands on your temple. The hand that wasn’t glued to Remus’ “freaking little Wormtail ratted me out.” you mumbled.  
“I literally kept pushing until my claws broke your soft skin, Moony could have broken your arm.” 
“I would have survived.” 
“You don’t know that!” 
“Remus. You can’t make decisions for me,” you said slowly “I knew you were a werewolf for a couple of weeks before this happened, and I never even once considered to stop being your friend.” 
“That was before…” 
“And it’s the exact same thing now,” you responded with a thin smile. “I don’t care if you’re a werewolf, I don’t care if Moony scratched me and made me hungry, and sensitive to temperatures and thirsty. I don’t care if my arm hurts or if I have to change my bandages every couple of hours and add more of Lily’s magic mixture or take painkillers. And that’s because, no matter what, you’re still Remus, and I wouldn’t want you to be any different,” you gave his hand a squeeze “I’m not gonna let you push me away because you’re terrified I might be scared of Moony.”
“But you were terrified of me! The nightmares, the boggart, the…” 
“That was before I met Moony.” 
“What?” 
“He’s beautiful Remus, you’re beautiful.” 
“What?!” he repeated, a little louder now. 
You took a deep breath “Yes, the nightmares, the beast. I was scared because a huge thing chased after me, squashing me and throwing me around countless times. But Remus, I had never gotten to see it, not really, I was too busy running away from it to pay attention. Did you know he has your eyes?” Your kind eyes, you thought. “The golden specks that are more present near the moon? I could see them, and I wasn’t scared anymore.” 
“And that was dumb, leaving my wand on the ground–“ 
“–I said I would stop interrupting if you stopped with the stupid comments.” 
“It’s the truth.” 
You wanted to argue, but it really had been a stupid thing to do, you had been so mesmerised by the wolf, that perhaps you really weren’t thinking straight. Not that it would be expected, especially after everything you had gone through previous to that. “Fine then, one part brave, three parts fool, I’m a Gryffindor after all. Regardless, I’m not scared of Moony, not anymore, not now I know It’s you.” 
“That’s stupid too,” he added, you could feel a slight change in his tone, he was a lot more relaxed now, he’s joking, you realised.
“Well you have a very stupid friend, get over it,” you joked with a smile, “Are you going to stop avoiding me now?” 
Remus sighed “How could I abandon my potions partner?” he asked, a small smirk drawing itself on his lips. 
You chuckled, your hands, the ones that were still intertwined with each other, dangled as your shoulders shook, “That’s the spirit,” you said, your sight flickering towards his hand, and the way it held yours. You brushed your thumb gently over a particularly thick scar on the back of his hand. Remus shivered, but you were so cold you assumed it was for the same reason that you would, werewolves were clearly more sensible to temperature.
“Your hand is very cold,” he said as he tightened his grip. 
“It’s freezing here,” you responded, “you feel it too, don’t you? You shivered.”
He cleared his throat “Yeah,” he lied “kinda cold.” 
“Your hand’s nice and warm tho,” you acknowledged. 
“I had it under the covers,” he lied again. He wondered why you hadn’t separated your hands, not because he wanted you to do it, but rather because he was dreading the moment you did, “how’s the arm?” He asked, nodding towards it. 
You shrugged, “It’s healing… your ribs? I broke them didn’t I?”
“It was the Whomping Willow.”
“Yeah, the tree, and my carefully executed plan.”
That had him shaking his head in amusement “How did you know it would work?” 
You swallowed, you could lie and say you used maths or highly advanced magic to calculate things to the tea, but enough secrets had been held between you and Remus already “I didn’t,” you admitted “The idea just came to me and I used my instinct to know when to jump.” 
“You’re insane,” he said with a shake of his head, he was half pissed, half amused you had managed to pull it off “and brilliant.”
You frowned, a small smile playing on your lips “I’ll take that as a compliment,” there was a silence and you leaned in to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt the boy as you sat, your head still turned to him “Tom said you’d be out tomorrow.” 
“Is that how you found out I was avoiding you?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. 
You nodded “Yeah, that and Poppy looking at me so pitifully, even Sirius seemed like he was suspicious after a while.” 
He winced “Sorry ‘bout that… But yeah, she said I could leave tomorrow, she kept me here tonight just in case.” 
“Well, thank Godric she did, this would’ve been an awkward conversation to have in front of the boys,” you teased “especially when I didn’t even let you speak.” 
“I was being twat.” 
“Yeah, you were,” you agreed, a small teasing smile on your face. He scooted slightly to the side to give you more space to sit, then pulled your hand so you moved in a little bit more. 
There was silence, a rather comfortable one, but Remus broke it, he was now rubbing circles on your hand “You were here when Pomfrey gave me the Skellegro,” he said, and then turned his gaze to you “Weren’t you?” 
You nodded “Sirius and Lily brought me over for dittany and silver dust, the scratch wasn’t healing until Lily made some a paste.” 
“So you were bleeding all night…” he said, guilt filling his expression. 
You sighed “It’s fine, I heal fast.” 
Remus looked to the side, barely spotting the bruise on your neck “Is that from when they…?” he asked, pointing towards it. 
You opened your eyes wider and pulled the collar of the sweater you were wearing up, blushing at the memory of Sirius kissing your neck as he had you flushed against the stone wall of one of the passageways “Um… I… no it’s…” 
Remus understood a sour expression playing on his face that he masked with disgust “Ugh you and Pads are gross.” 
You hit him on the arm playfully “As if you’d never done it,” you chastised “Oh.. by the way, what’s with you and Alice?” you asked with an arched eyebrow and a suggestive smile. 
Remus felt a pang in his chest, the cause was in the way you’d asked, so casually and playfully. You were clearly teasing him, and also clearly not into him. And then he cursed himself for feeling jealous, of course, she’s not into me, she’s into Sirius, her boyfriend. “We… I mean…” how the fuck do I tell her we’re only having fun without sounding like an ass? It's not like I can tell her I’m using Alice as a distraction, that’d be way worse. 
“You’re not in love with her, are you?” you asked, with a rather apprehensive tone. 
“Does that make me an asshole?” 
You shook your head “I’m sure she’s not in love either,” you said with a sigh “Todd told me she likes to have fun and then… Well, I don’t think that makes her a bad person per se, as long as she’s honest about it.” 
“She is,” he reassured, “she’s fun too.” Remus wasn’t sure fun was a very accurate description, not even close to distracting, but it seemed like the right thing to say. 
“That’s good. You deserve to have fun,” you said with a smile “Though I’m sure you’d easily find someone for a deeper connection if you were looking for it.” 
Remus scoffed, shaking his head “Yeah sure, until they find out I’m a monst–“ 
“–We’re not going to keep calling you that, Remus,” you interrupted. “And I think they would. Just think about it, all of the people who know are still there for you, no matter what. We’re here, and if someone really loved you, they would be there for you too. And if they weren’t then they don’t deserve you.” He gave you a look of disbelief “Honest, if I were dating you, and then I found out. Even if I had gone through the same thing I went through that night, I’d still date you.”
Remus wasn’t sure whether to be happy or cry at your statement “But you’re dating Sirius.” It was almost bitter the way he said it, but it slipped past you.
“Well duh, but hypothetically, I’d love you either way. And I mean, how many people can say they’re dating a sexy werewolf, that’s gotta give you some points…”
Remus grabbed one of the pillows from his side and threw it at your face, he didn’t wanna talk about depressing shit anymore. 
“Oi! What was that for?!” 
“You were getting too sappy with me,” he said with a diverted smile.
You narrowed your eyes at him, a mirroring smile on your lips “Oh you’re a twat,” you said as you hit him on the side lightly, he groaned and you winced, brows instantly furrowing in concern “Sorry…” He nodded, but a small smile showed on his soft lips, like he was holding back a laugh. You quickly realised he had faked it and hit him again in return “That’s a nasty trick, you shouldn’t take advantage of your hurt state.” 
“The one that you induced?” he said as his grin widened, teasing you again. You gasped in shock, and laughed afterwards, hitting him again a couple more times. 
“Oi, oi, that’s enough…” he said as he grabbed onto your hand, laughing along with you. 
He had been soft when he grabbed you, but he was so strong even if you had wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to move your arm, but instead of dwelling on the boy’s strength, you just laughed merrily, leaning in so far down that your hair brushed over his chest. He could smell it, and it was as delightful as ever, perhaps a bit more now that he knew you wouldn’t avoid him just because of his condition. He took a deep breath as you laughed, almost feeling guilty for enjoying the moment so much. 
You cannot love her, it is sin, said a voice in his head as he listened to your giggles, but why does it feel like heaven then? 
“Can you turn back into the fox?” he asked, despite himself. Perhaps he was already so drunk on you, and your laughs that he wasn’t thinking straight. You turned your gaze to him, as you let your laughs die out. An arched eyebrow looking at him questioning “You got to see Moony, but I only got to see the fox through his eyes. I wanna see her with my eyes,” he reasoned, although he wasn’t sure if he was actually reasoning. 
“Seems fair enough,” you said with a shrug “It’s Vixen, by the way.” 
“Who’s Vixen?” 
“Me,” you said as if it was obvious “I mean… the fox, she is. Wormmy and Prongs chose it, Sirius said it fit.” 
Remus hummed in response “It certainly does,” he said as he looked at you, the blue moonlight was still illuminating your features, and you certainly looked as charming as ever, tantalising, beguiling even. And the small cut on your lip? The one that he had noticed since the day at the Shrieking Shack and hadn’t disappeared from your face yet, along with the hickey Sirius had left on your neck, made you look as fierce as ever. 
Remus wondered for a second what it would feel like to leave a matching one on the other side of your neck, what would it feel like for Sirius to leave one on his? He knew he was yearning for something he couldn’t have, alas, he had yearned for a normal life so often, he was already used to the feeling. But his fantasies about being normal were never as sweet as his fantasies of you, of Sirius. Of either of your lips attached to his neck or his lips attached to yours, to Sirius’s silky pale skin or to your soft velvety neck. To your collarbone, to the indents that made it almost impossible for him to look back at your face. He remembered you in your Halloween costume again, he remembered Sirius’s devilish smile and matching outfit, and he had to adjust the bedsheets underneath, clearing his throat as he tried to get back on earth. 
It’s Moony’s fault, It’s Moony’s fault! Did she notice? Will she buy it if I tell her that? 
“Is it really a good idea for me to turn into Vixen here? Isn’t it like… dangerous for your wounds and stuff?” 
Remus frowned, buffing diverted “You’ve got rabies or something?”
You gasped again “Of course I don’t! How would you feel if I asked you the same thing?!” He shrugged in response and you considered hitting him again. “Fine then,” you said “but I will bite if you try anything weird.” 
“Define anything weird…” he teased. 
“I’d rather bite instead,” you retorted “It’ll be my payback for the scratch,” you said with a diverted smile before shrinking into Vixen. You were still on the bed as Remus looked at you. You were small, smaller than normal, and certainly smaller than Padfoot, a good deal less than half as tall as him.
“So you are a little witch in the end,” he teased as he looked at you, you bared your teeth at him for a second, and turned your head, “Aww… don’t be like that!” You shook your head and walked a little closer to him, feeling the soft bed give way under your paws.
You stared at him curiously, and you understood why he wanted to see you as a fox so much, it was completely different, the way in which you perceived someone being animal or human. Remus, for example, seemed a lot bigger when you looked at him from the eyes of Vixen. You could also feel the heat radiating from him, which is why you had almost instinctively walked closer. And just like you had been lured by Moony when you left the wand on the floor, Vixen seemed to somehow be lured by Remus. 
You wondered if you were to lose your mind, and be more fox than human, would you still feel just as beguiled by the boy?
Remus was still looking at you when he extended his hand as if he wanted to pet you, but he pulled it back seconds later when he remembered Peter had once straight up bit him when he tried to do it for the first time, and you had threatened to bite. But what you did instead was surprising, since you walked closer and placed your head underneath his extended palm, nuzzling into it like a cat would. 
When Remus started brushing his fingers over your head you leaned in closer, allowing him to scratch just behind your ears, which had you relax so much you almost allowed yourself to lay on the bed. When he pulled away his hand you nuzzled his arm with your nose, so he would come back “Needy, aren’t we?” he teased. You didn’t even care to respond. His hands were so big they almost covered your entire head, and so warm too, it was like having a heated blanket that also gave massages. 
Maybe it was the canine side of you, but he started scratching a particular spot that had you wagging your tail like a small puppy. Remus laughed when he noticed “You still cold?” he asked when he felt your cold paw brush against his forearm. You nuzzled closer to his hand in response. “Wanna come here?” he asked, patting his chest. You tilted your head, looking at his chest rise and fall, still feeling the heat coming from it.  
Maybe it’s weird, shouldn’t have aske– Remus didn’t get to finish his thoughts, you had already climbed all the way up to his chest, fast and careful, trying to avoid the side where you knew the Whomping Willow had hit him. He smiled as you nuzzled your entire body against him, allowing your tail to almost wrap itself around you, bringing a little more warmth into the equation. You then bumped your head against his chest softly. 
“What’s that little witch? You want me to pet you some more?” he asked, but he wasn’t teasing this time, the cocky undertone you’d heard earlier completely gone this time around. You allowed your head to rest and closed your eyes as you moved up and down along his every breath. 
Eventually, he brought his hand over you again, this time resting it over your back, and moving it softly along your fur, with soft strokes from your head to your mid back, your only reaction was to close your eyes and enjoy the way his fingers intertwined with your fur. You wondered if cuddling with Sirius as a fox would feel just as nice and decided you’d have to ask him to try, even if you had no idea how you’d put that into words. 
Either way, Remus was awfully good at cuddling: big, warm, heavy hands, and a total people pleaser. You realised when he figured out the spot that made your tail waggle and focus his scratches there from then on. You had been so comfortable with the boy, that you didn’t even notice the moment you fell asleep. He did see you; and was extra quiet for a while, the only sound being the one of his breaths and your light snoring, or what sounded like snoring at least, Remus wasn’t sure if foxes actually had the ability to snore. 
He had been admiring the way you slept, so peaceful, and so beautiful too, he was sure all the foxes would fall for you in the forest if they met you, not that he would allow any of them to lay a paw on you. Which he then realised might have been one of the stupidest things to ever cross his mind. But at least he wasn’t thinking of you and Sirius. Except when he was and he forced himself to look back at Vixen, letting his anxiety melt away as he continued to brush his hands over your soft red fur. 
And as his anxiety left, so did most of his negative thoughts, and he was engulfed in this ever so peaceful stance that he was sure to cuddle Vixen for the rest of his life had he the chance. After some time, he too started feeling sleepy, his eyelids heavy and his stroking slower, lazier, he too fell asleep. And you must have stayed like that, sleeping on top of him, your slight weight comforting him the same way a weighted blanket would, for at least a couple of hours. Since next thing you knew, there was a high-pitched scream and you felt yourself being pushed off Remus with the force of a spell. 
You fell on your leg and let out a cry of pain, you were rather confused when you noticed the woman that had used a spell against you had been no other than Madam Pomfrey. 
“Wait no! Poppy, stop!” you heard Remus say, panicked and sitting up on the bed to get the woman’s attention. You shook your head and attempted to stand, only for your leg to give in again. You huffed, and while wincing, forced yourself up. You saw Pomfrey approaching you, her wand still in her hands as she pointed it at you. 
You took a couple of steps back, feeling a sharp pain whenever you moved your front leg. “She’s my pet!” Remus said, “Don’t hurt her.”
Pomfrey seemed distracted by the boy’s words and you took that as a chance to scurry under one of the beds and then all the way to the door. 
Every step was agonising, but the adrenaline kept you going all the way to the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere. You looked to the sides of the hall to make sure there was no one around before springing back into your human form and pushing the door open, getting in and closing it behind you. You could feel the stickiness of your arm. 
Evans is going to kill me, you thought as you leaned in on the door, allowing yourself to rest for a second before turning to look at the place you had ended up in. And when you did you were surprised, since it looked just like the infirmary, you frowned, and opened the door to see if you had run to the same place that you’d left, but it was positively a different hallway. Different paintings, different statues, different doors, it’s definitely not the same place, you thought.
You went back in after a second and looked around again, now clutching your wounded arm, and tilted your head as you stared. Upon closer inspection, it was most definitely not the same infirmary either. In fact, near the back, there was a rather large mirror and a supply closet near it, the infirmary had large windows instead. You walked near the middle of the room and looked around you, there weren’t many beds either, and the place seemed to be filled with things that could be useful. From warm blankets to a sink and clean rags close to it. 
You blinked a couple of times, taking it all in, the usefulness, the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere, you let out a short breath, realisation hitting you  “The Room of Requirements,” you whispered. 
Then started nodding, hyping yourself up for what you’d have to do next. You turned around to see if there was a clock somewhere, which there indeed was, a huge grandfather clock near the door, it was 4 am, and you had just enough time to clean things up and go back to your room, change and get back to class.  
You took your shirt off and winced when you realised the bIoody bandage, if you kept acting so recklessly, you weren’t sure it was ever actually going to heal. You walked towards the sink, and wet one of the rags before passing it over the broken flesh. You winced as the warm piece of cloth passed over the open part of the wound. You stared at it for a second once it was clean, even after all the misadventures, it certainly looked better than it had done the previous night. But it hurt just as much as it had, the painkillers might have been wearing thin by then. 
You walked towards the supply closet, your vision a little blurry due to the sharp pain. Luckily the first thing you spotted was some painkillers,  you instantly drank a bit of it and placed the rest in your pocket. You kept rummaging through it and found dried dittany leaves and some silver dust. So you grabbed a mortar, and some beeswax and mugwort, which were the few things you remembered Lily had used to make her green paste, and recreated it to the best of your abilities. With your dominant arm incapacitated -and drowning in pain since the painkillers hadn’t done their thing- you clenched the mortar handle in your other hand and started to mix.
Once the paste was ready, you washed your hand and with trembling fingers, you gingerly spread the paste across the open wound. A couple of tears started streaming down your cheeks as you did. You must have missed something when you made the paste since instead of making you feel instant relief, it stung like hell for what felt like an eternity before gradually numbing the pain.
Once you had gone through most of the scratch you used the back of your hand to wipe your tears and sniffed as you took some more in your finger, hesitating for a second before biting your lip and finally placing the paste on the parts that you hadn’t covered yet.
When you finished with it, you felt utterly drained. The pain was still there, your arm had even started to throb. You let your head fall back and considered just throwing yourself on the floor, the temptation to just rest almost agonising, but you knew you still had to wrap a bandage around your wounded arm. You were fumbling with the ends of the bandage roll when you remembered Sirius’ words “Don’t be stubborn and let us help!” 
You swallowed, he probably would have run off to help you had you asked, but Sirius must have been just as tired as you were, and even if he hadn’t been hurt physically, you were sure the events of the night had taken a toll on his mind, heck they clearly had done it on yours, so, despite his command, you decided to deal with it in your own. You continued trying for a couple of minutes, and after what felt like an eternity –and in a fit of desperation– you hurled it against the mirror. It bumped down and rolled off, one of the ends staying behind as the rest of the roll continued unravelling. 
You sighed and went to grab another one from the supply closet and started trying once again. This time around you actually managed to open it after a couple of minutes and brought your arm up. You held the end against your arm with your chin and you started wrapping. Eventually, you switched your manual labour for your wand and used a simple spell to levitate the roll of bandages around your arm, making sure that it was just tight enough to seal the wound but not so tight as to cause additional pain, mirroring the way both Sirius and Lily had done it earlier. 
When you were done, you turned to the watch again, you’d hoped you had enough time to lay in one of the beds of the infirmary but when you realised you had spent over an hour there you cast a quick disillusionment charm and sneaked back to the common room. You did consider staying in the Room of Requirements and not going back, but your friends would probably worry if they didn’t see you at all in the morning, Lily would be panicked and the boys, especially Sirius, would cause a mini-scandal. You could almost hear Sirius ask something like “How the hell did you lose my girlfriend Evans?” Which is why, in the end, you decided against it. 
You picked up the mess with a wave of your wand and put your shirt and sweater back on, giving a once over to the room before leaving and walking through the halls and passageways trying to make as little sound as possible. Once you arrive at your common room you let yourself fall into one of the single couches by the fire. Not bothering to counter your disillusionment charm, as you used your wand to kindle the fire. You sank deeper on the couch and sighed, closing your eyes for a snooze when you heard footsteps. 
You turned to the side and spotted Sirius and James walking down, you waved at them, and when they didn’t respond, you remembered you were still kind of invisible. You were about to cancel the spell off when you saw Sirius was already leaning to sit down, on the exact same spot you were. You moved your wounded arm to the side and allowed the boy to sit “Hey babe,” you whispered as you wrapped your arm around his waist, Sirius pretty much jumped off and turned around looking mortified.
You just laughed at his reaction, “Vixen?!” you heard James ask as he squinted his eyes in your direction, you just kept laughing as you finally waved your wand over yourself again, allowing the spell to vanish, the painkiller potion was finally doing its thing and you already felt a lot better.
“Hey Prongs!” you said with a smile. 
“What the hell was that Stashine, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” 
“Don’t you get one of those whenever you look into my eyes?” you asked with a playful pout, James laughed again, and your boyfriend just looked at you surprised. 
“How did you know it would be Sirius the one to sit there?” James asked. 
“I was already here, I just took the chance,” you said, scooting to the side to allow Sirius to sit by your side, even in the small space. He didn’t think about it twice and sat beside you, pulling you by the waist half over one of his legs so you’d be more comfortable.
“Absolutely brilliant!” James complimented, Sirius threw him a look “And you disillusionment charm too, I’d never seen one so good.”
“Thanks!” you said with a smile “I’ve been using it a lot recently.” 
“You do know you can just take the Invisibility Cloak, right?” 
You nodded, not if I have to tell you what I need it for, you thought. “That’s very nice of you Jammie,” you said with a smile.
“How’s the arm?” Sirius asked. 
You looked at him for a second, a tight smile on your lips before you nodded “Great.”
Sirius frowned, not quite buying it, but didn’t press further. “Why were you out here, luv?” James asked “I’d assume Lily would rather be checking on you instead of having you here by yourself.” 
“Couldn’t sleep,” you said pointing to your eyebags “And the fire seemed tempting… and also I went to check on Remus who was avoiding me.” 
“You noticed?” Sirius asked about at the same time James said something like “You went to see Remus by yourself?!”
“Of course I noticed! I went to check on him like 5 times and he was asleep all of them. Tom comes up and says he had a chat with him seconds after we went to visit. It was suspicious enough. And then there was Pomfrey’s pitiful look whenever I showed up…” 
“He sometimes does that… I assumed he was doing it when we went before lunch. Did you get him to talk to you?” Sirius asked.
You nodded “Yeah, we’ve sorted things out, had to call him out on how dumb he was being though.” 
Sirius laughed at the casual way you said it, and pulled you a bit closer to him “That’s my girl!”
You were distracted for a good second, remembering the way Remus had pulled Vixen closer and how similar it had been to the way Sirius had done it, you wondered if it was a Brit thing, to be so touchy –which you already knew Sirius was- or if instead it was something very particular of the boys. 
“It’s kinda late for flying, isn’t it?” James asked as he looked at the clock, clearly the messy sleepless nights had also taken a toll on him. 
“Who are you and what have you done to James Potter?” You teased. 
“Don’t mess with him, Kit, he might change his mind.”
“Kit?” You asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. 
He shrugged “If you can call me Puppy I can call you Kit,” he said simply, to which you laughed, it wasn’t that you didn’t like it, rather you were a little surprised. And really, the more you thought about it, it was rather endearing. 
“Does that mean we’re not flying then?” you asked, turning back to James, “even if the next game is on Sunday?” 
James groaned, placing a pillow over his head to muffle the sounds. “Now that’s straight-up torture,” Sirius said with a teasing smile as he pointed at James. 
“Either way, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to play, we might have to move the–“ 
“–Don’t even joke about it Potter!” you said in a serious tone. 
James winced, you didn’t call him James, not even Prongs, you were not happy about his suggestion, but he was the captain, and he had to look out for his team, he had to look out for you, “You’re hurt.” 
“It was barely a scratch!” 
“You keep saying that, but I see the way you clutch onto your arm when the painkillers wear off–“ 
“I’ll be like new by Sunday!” you argued again “I heal fast.” 
“Sunday is in three days!” 
“Back me up on this?” you asked, turning to Sirius, who had a small frown on his face. 
He couldn’t find a way to say what he wanted to say without upsetting you “Darling, maybe Prongs is right…” 
You turned to him exasperated “Don’t block me like this James! We’re playing Slytherin, I want to show those assholed that they didn’t–” You cut yourself off, not being able to finish the sentence either. 
James’ face seemed to soften at your words, Sirius and Remus had somewhat told them what happened that night, or at least what they knew, and what they assumed. You hadn’t talked to them much about it, let alone go into detail, but either way, he understood. He got why you were so desperate to prove that you could still fight -or fly in this case–, you needed to show them that no matter what they did, they wouldn’t bring you down, “We’ll think about it,” he conceded. You were still looking at him with a frown, “Listen if your arm really is better off by then, then you’ll play.” 
“You promise you’ll let me?” 
Sirius was looking at James reproachfully, as if he wasn’t happy with his answer, but didn’t say a thing. He could try to convince you of dropping it later, although he was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind about it, not unless you were bedridden or something. 
“I promise we’ll think about it.” You nodded, that was probably as good as it would get. Now all you had to do was play the part of someone who was not affected at all by the hit and you’d be able to play on Sunday. 
“Aren’t you hungry luv?” Sirius asked. 
And strangely enough, you weren’t that hungry, in fact, you hadn’t been hungry since you went to visit Remus, which made you assume it was a Lycanthropy thing. Regardless, a warm cup of tea, along with some toast did sound incredibly good, so you nodded, motioning to stand up when you saw Remus walk in, he looked visibly relieved when he spotted you, even as you were almost sitting on Sirius’ lap. 
“Good to see you’re all right, after the fall I thought you might have–“ 
“–What fall?” Sirius asked, turning to you. 
“That?! It was nothing…” you said, “I had turned into Vixen and Pomfrey saw me, and was probably horrified since I was close to Rem, and then she pushed me off with a spell. I mean it hurt a little but it was nothing…” 
“You were thrown in the air and fell to the ground, and it was nothing?” Sirius asked as he toyed with the hem of your sweater’s sleeve, to see if he could lift it enough to check on your wound.
“Yes, Pomfrey wasn’t trying to hurt me, and Remus stopped her from following.” 
Remus was sure he’d seen you break the fall with the same arm that was hurt but decided not to press any further, since you clearly didn’t want to go too much into detail. He plopped down next to James on the sofa and turned to Sirius “How’s the plan going?” He asked the long-haired boy. 
“What plan?” you asked with furrowing your eyebrows just a little bit. 
“The revenge plan.” 
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A/N: Rem is finally back yay! How are we feeling? Personally, I love cuddles, wish I could actually transport into this universe to get some od Moony's warm cuddles. Thoughts?
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joelsmochi ¡ 1 year ago
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Us Against the World
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A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)
warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)
wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)
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The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.
You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.
You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.
He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.
“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.
You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?
He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.
“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”
You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.
You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.
The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.
“Wanna dance?”
The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.
You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.
Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.
The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.
Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.
Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.
He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.
He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.
Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.
“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.
You knew you were in for it.
Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.
“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”
He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.
He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.
But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.
He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.
“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“
Another smack.
“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”
You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.
Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”
You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”
He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.
“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.
“Of course not—“
He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.
He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.
“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”
“M’sorry,” you mumbled.
“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”
“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”
He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”
You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.
“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”
“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.
“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”
“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”
He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.
He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.
You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.
You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.
He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.
Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.
You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.
The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.
"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.
He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.
He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.
And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.
You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.
But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.
He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.
“Joooel, that hurts.”
He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.
You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.
But he wouldn’t let you.
He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.
After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.
“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.
You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”
It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.
He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.
Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.
“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.
“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”
You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.
“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”
You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.
He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.
Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.
“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”
“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.
His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”
“Joel—“
He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.
He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.
He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.
He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.
“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”
“Mmhmmm.”
He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.
His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.
Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.
“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.
“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”
“You’ll be good?”
“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”
He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.
“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”
Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.
“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.
He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.
Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.
“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.
You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?
“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.
“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.
“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.
You couldn’t think of what to say.
Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…
“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”
His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.
He liked that, you thought.
“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”
His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”
His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.
“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”
Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.
He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.
You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.
Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.
“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.
You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.
He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.
Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.
So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.
This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.
“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.
The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.
Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”
His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.
His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.
Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.
You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.
He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.
With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.
His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.
He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.
“You hungry?” He asked.
“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.
“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”
You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.
“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.
“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”
He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.
His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.
“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”
You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.
Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.
“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”
“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.
You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”
He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.
Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.
You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.
His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.
You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.
You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.
His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.
You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.
His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.
It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.
His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.
He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.
Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.
His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.
Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.
All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.
Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,
moaning Joel’s name a little longer,
feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,
feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,
laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,
getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…
…Like the garage door opening.
“Oh! Shit!”
You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.
“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?
Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.
“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.
“Like what?”
“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.
You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.
Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.
You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.
“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”
“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”
“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”
“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.
“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”
“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.
You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.
“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”
You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.
“Oh?”
“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.
He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.
He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.
You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.
This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.
“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.
“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.
Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.
Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.
They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.
They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”
“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.
Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…
“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”
“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”
You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”
“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.
Maybe to you, you thought.
Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).
“What happened?” You asked.
“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”
You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”
The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.
Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.
Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.
With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.
“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.
He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.
“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”
“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.
Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.
His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.
“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.
You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”
Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.
“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.
Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.
“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.
He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.
But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.
Joel could always see past your bullshit.
“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”
You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”
His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”
“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.
You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.
“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.
Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.
“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…
“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”
He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.
“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.
You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”
He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.
His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.
Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.
“Take your shorts off.”
You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.
“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”
You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”
Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.
You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.
“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.
Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.
He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.
“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.
“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.
His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.
His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.
You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.
“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.
“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“
He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.
“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”
You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”
Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”
“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”
Smack.
“Three,” you hissed.
Smack.
“Four…”
Smack!
The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.
You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.
One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.
Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?
By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.
Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.
“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”
Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.
“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.
You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”
Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.
“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.
“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.
His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.
“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.
Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.
He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.
“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”
Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.
A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.
As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.
Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.
God, you were a fucking mess.
His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.
You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.
Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.
“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”
“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.
The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.
“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.
You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.
His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.
You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.
“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.
“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”
He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.
“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”
It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.
And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.
Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?
Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?
Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.
“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.
“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.
“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”
“Whose shirt is this?”
A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.
“Dad—“
“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.
Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.
“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.
“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”
You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”
“Why is it here?”
You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.
“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.
“When.”
“A… A few times.”
“Why?!”
The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.
“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”
“Since you got back?”
You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.
“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“
“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”
Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.
“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”
“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”
“He’s too old for you,” he said.
You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”
“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”
“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”
You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.
What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.
Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.
“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.
She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”
“You sure?”
You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.
Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”
After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.
Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.
“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.
“What?”
“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.
“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”
“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”
“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”
“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.”
“Thanks, Sarah.”
The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.
“Everything alright?” He asked.
“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.
Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”
“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.
He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”
A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.
“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”
“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”
He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”
Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.
“Girlfriend?”
He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”
“You never asked,” you laughed.
His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”
“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.
You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.
You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”
“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”
You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.
He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.
Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.
Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.
His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.
You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.
“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.
With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.
He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.
He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.
But it didn’t.
Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.
A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.
Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.
“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“
A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.
Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.
“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.
He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.
You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.
“I love you too,” you finally said.
He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.
But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.
“I love you.”
“You love me?” You teased.
But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.
After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.
Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.
He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.
He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”
“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.
He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”
It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.
He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.
Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.
Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.
You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.
He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.
“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.
“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”
You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.
“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.
“Thank you, princess.”
-
taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42
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hana-no-seiiki ¡ 2 years ago
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REJECTION
YANDERE! IDOL! OC! (EVE) x IDOL! READER BLURB (ft. new ocs!)
Before we start, I’m excited to announce that I’m finally starting an HNSVerse webtoon/comic series w/ our starting story ( being the one Eve/Jisoo is featured in ) Love ♡ Multiplied ! Invasion of Your Heart this fall. Hope to see you guys during its release ehe.
If you’re new to my blog, go ahead and check the tag hns.eve for more works of him, or check out my master list.
Without further ado, here’s Eve’s first ‘solo’ fic! Enjoy!
warnings: yandere themes (obsessive love, violence, unreliable narrator). mentions of alcohol abuse/alcoholism. incel/nice guy jisoo. profanity.
status: unedited
©️ both the art and story belong to me, please do not redistribute, repost, translate or share without credit/permission.
this particular fic is safe for minors (16+) so no mdni on this folks. feel free to enjoy.
[previous fic / prequel to this fic]
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“I’m sorry, but I don’t like you that way.”
Jisoo never truly knew the power of words til he heard you after his confession.
He prepared months in advance, with a dedication that was unusual to him at the time.
He picked the perfect venue, the one convenience store you two always ate onigiri at. He picked the perfect time, sunset — to really set the mood — and a week after monthly examinations so that emotions were not running too high. He spent hours, days, maybe even weeks just agonizing over the words to choose when he finally poured his feelings out. He even prepared for times after the
Throughout his whole time as a trainee, nothing felt as bad as the dejection your words gave him.
“W-what do you mean?”
“You’re more of a dad to me . . .” He saw your eyes flick left and right, clearly uncomfortable with the arrangement despite the plan he meticulously concocted.
Still he could not control the poison from injecting itself within the crevices of his inflection, his delivery coming out as awfully sour — maybe even petty, “A dad? You’re older than me.”
“Yeah, a dad friend. You’re the more mature one between us and . . . I just — I just can’t see you romantically.” If the damage wasn’t enough, you ended your explanation with an emphasis. “Ever.”
You then grabbed your belongings and left. Though, being the polite and kind person you were, you made sure to at least give him a farewell.
Jisoo sighed, looking up towards the convenience store ceiling lights. The sting from the bright luminance distracted him only a little bit before his mind went back to you. Consumed by his thoughts, his heart suddenly began beating a million times a second. A sudden adrenaline rush overcame him.
If you didn’t like him because of his personality, he’ll just go ahead and change that up a bit.
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The day right after, Jisoo found himself doing something he would have never even thought of. It was amazing how much you made him realize and change. It was actually why completely fell in the first place.
Though, the changes before were natural and a bit too slow. Jisoo needed to have you as his as soon as he possibly could. And so, change had to happen now and under his jurisdiction.
You weren’t present that day, so it wasn’t too out of the ordinary to follow a couple of trainees out when lessons concluded. Usually he was completely stuck to your side and your side alone. Conversation didn’t come naturally to him, as such friends don’t either.
It took him a few minutes to man up and a long, deep breath to finally attempt getting one of the trainee’s attention.
Daehyun was his name, Jisoo thinks. When getting the former’s attention he opted to tug the guy’s sleeve just to be safe.
“What’s up? Oh, it’s you. ” Daehyun turned around. His silver eyes sparkled underneath the late afternoon’s sunlight. He was one of if not the best dancer in Celestial Entertainment. In addition to that, he was known for charming personality and magnetic stage presence.
Frankly, Jisoo only saw him as annoyingly bright and cheery. They were exact opposites. They fought on a daily basis.
But that was exactly why Jisoo needed him in particular.
“You’re childish.” Jisoo began.
Daehyun’s jaw goes slack at this cool, raven haired giant’s audacity. Most of the time he’d come back with a retort but he was utterly drained from practice. “Ah. . .Okay then. . . Well I gotta go — “
Daehyun jerked his arm away, but that only prompted Jisoo to fully grab him by the bicep, “Teach me.”
“Sorry, I think I’m misunderstandiny you. You want me to teach you how to be childish?“
Jisoo nodded vigorously, “I want to be a better idol. And . . . a better fellow trainee. Listen. I’ve been a terrible person to everyone here. I just want to be better.”
Daehyun doesn’t answer for a long time. Maybe even minutes pass before he did. At least, enough time for the trainee walking alongside him to realize his partner wasn’t near him anymore.
His jaw was still wide open.
“Wow, points for self-awareness yo. Finally.”
“Bold words for someone in punching range.” Jisoo lets go of the shorter man’s arm and crosses his. An eyebrow raised.
“Fine, fine. Guess your short temper hasn’t gone anywhere. Time for Being Chill 101, yeah?” Daehyun then shouted to his companion, an even shorter guy that Jisoo dreaded asking help from. But he was desperate. Beggars can never be choosers. “Hayate! C’mere! Jisoo needs a lil help!”
“Eeehhhhh—?! Jisoo? Asking for help? The gods have answered our prayers!”
Jisoo soon realized that he asked help from a bunch of hooligans.
If he faces rejection again after all this trouble, he might just murder a man.
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“Hey.” You walked towards Jisoo with your usual smile.
“Heyyy!” He greeted back. Earning a confused look from you as you sat beside him.
You chuckled at his strange demeanor. Well, maybe it wasn’t so strange. You knew Jisoo could be quite awkward at times. Considering you haven’t seen each-other for months by now, he must feel weird talking to you all of a sudden. Especially after what you did last time. “What has gotten into you?” You asked. It was either your earlier theory or the effect of him hanging out with other people. You heard he started spending some more time with other trainees. Even going on drinking sprees with large groups. You didn’t approve of such activities but were too busy to scold him on the topic lately.
But apparently both of your guesses were ‘wrong’ as he had answered, “Huh? Me? Pffft. Nothing. Justa — think I drank too much coffee.”
You could smell the stench of soju and beer in his breath now that you were closer. “Right. I just wanted to say that we can still hang out you know. Doesn’t mean that I rejected you that we can’t talk anymore.”
“Oh, sorry! Sorry. Did it feel like I was avoiding you? I was just busy with Idol Image training.”
“Idol Image training? I thought you hated those lessons.”
“Ya know me. Indecisive and impulsive as always.”
Jisoo grinned at you. But all you could do was cringe out of pity and guilt.
Apparently the guilt you felt wasn’t enough however as you decided that it was now or never to rub some salt into gaping hole of a wound.
“Almost forgot. I have to tell you something. I got a deal to be a solo artist.”
“Solo what now? I thought we were debuting together.”
“Looking at how you’re dealing with my rejection. I think it’s safe to say that us working and living together won’t go too well. I don’t want to lead you on. We’re friends. Nothing else. Sorry if I did so before.”
You didn’t even let him show you how much he’d improve. How much he worked on his way with words and conversation. Before he even had the chance to show his work you had not only rejected him once again but extinguished any hope from forming.
For once in these past few months when Jisoo had been the most talkative he had ever been in his life, he found himself speechless again.
“Soo?”
“I’m . . . proud of you. Really.”
The awkward air was too much for your to bare, so you left right after. Not a goodbye or even a wave.
Instead he watched as you swiftly made your exit. A frown laced your exquisite features.
He then spotted a man. He looked quite a bit older than you. Elegant and refined, he wore a classic black suit with a long coat draped on his back. Short leather gloves that no doubt hid hands as attractive as his own face. His hair was somehow darker than the one Jisoo was born with.
But what struck the young trainee the most was the man’s pine green eyes. It was like a forest one could easily get lost in. A cliche description he knew. But it was the best he could think of.
Jisoo doesn’t realize the trance he was in until the man suddenly turned straight at him —
— and smirked.
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People often saw Jisoo leave early during drinking parties. They chalked it up to his shy nature and he didn’t really have a good tolerance.
In reality it was mostly because he found a perfect victim to vent out his frustrations on that night.
It was usually a person too drunk to even understand or realize what was going on.
“Useless.” He muttered, kicking the random man’s stomach before the latter curled up in the floor in pain.
“Stop! Please stop!”
Jisoo scoffed at his protest. His red eye held no light as he continued his ministrations. This time stomping on the stranger’s cheek. “Utter piece of shit.”
The man stops protesting. All that could be heard in the cold chill of the night, was sounds of harsh impacts and Jisoo’s complaints and self deprecating words.
“Too mature? Bah. Bet that was all a fucking lie. They just couldn’t fuck a pathetic piece of shit like me.” Jisoo gave one last stomp, aiming specifically towards the man’s hazel eyes that reminded him of the person that took you.
Wait.
Eyes. Green Eyes.
That man was the CEO of Celestial Entertainment. A man known to be cut-throat and ruthless. A man who’s infamous for his apathetic nature regarding business. He probably saw your potential and thought that putting you in a group would dim it down.
Ace.
That’s it! You didn’t want to actually go solo. Jisoo understood now. Why was he so stupid?
You were just forced by that smug-faced bastard.
He leaned down, happily whispering in a sing-songy voice to his victim. “Thanks man. You really helped.”
“Woah.” A familiar cheerful voice resonated from behind him.
Jisooďżź froze.
He was done for. He was going to jail. This was it.
No, he had to calm down. Think rationally. He studied for this goddamn it.
Jisoo slowly spun his head. The happy expression on his face was instantly replaced with a horrified one. A look of confusion, fear and sadness. “Daehyun - 형 . . . he . . he came unto me— “
“Shit bro. No worries I got you covered.”
With rejection came realization. With charm came blind support. And with the right words and proper delivery, any person could be swayed.
“Wanna go drink after this?”
“You paying?”
Jisoo wished, for the good of everyone else and himself, that this green-eyed monster would not freely give rejection as you did.
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[ TRANSLATIONS ]
형 - hyeong - older brother (not literal). honorific used by men towards those who are older (also men).
©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
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straightontllmorning ¡ 22 days ago
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can i say (as a bi woman) that it genuinely bothers me that like... so many ppl are like 'its not biphobic for a bisexual to have casual sex' when i don't think anyone has ever said THAT is the issue? i don't care what bisexuals do in real life. if they wanna have safe and consensual casual sex, go right ahead, idc! it's not for me but as long as i'm also being respected in my decision, idc what other people do. it just baffles me because buck in season one was talking about how he was a sex addict and how he didn't want to ruin things with abby by rushing into sex too fast because he genuinely liked her and that was like... kind of a huge part of his character? is that he DIDN'T really like the casual sex so much but actually wanted a real relationship? so why is oliver begging to have buck sleep around again when his character like... wanted more than just sex??? i don't mind character regression but it just feels like bad writing to retread that plot again.
also idc what other people say about thinking OS wasn't biphobic in his remarks. the guy dropped the ball hardcore. he could have easily said "i think buck can continue to casually explore his sexuality with other men and women now, he's still bisexual even if he's single" and it wouldn't have felt so... idk. fetishize-y to me. i'm just tired of bisexuality in fiction always being linked to promiscuity. real bisexuals can do whatever they want. but bisexuals in fiction are held to a different standard for a reason. what else should i expect from a ryan murphy show tho considering brittany on glee never called herself bisexual (bi-lingual, bi-corn) and she was portrayed the 'stupid slutty cheerleader' stereotype. i was just hoping for something different ig :(
it just makes me mad because... they didn't have to break up buck and tommy Like That. tommy could have easily had to move away and he and buck could have broken things off mutually as a result. idk sorry for ranting a bit in ur asks im just so miffed over this and over people speaking over bisexuals expressing their thoughts and concerns toward the biphobia that's going on rn :(
Sorry it took me so long to answer you, but please rant away! Honestly I agree with everything you've said. And unfortunately this really does prove that yeah, this is a Ryan Murphy show and it's par for the fucking course. I was gleek and that always bothered me too that Britney would never say it (and most of her characterization in general was just awful)
I wish Oliver had said something different, I wish he hadn't worded it that way. And again, people can have their opinions but it just feels so gross given how the show decided to do this.
They could've had bucktommy break up in any other way for any other reason. They brought up the Abby plot, they could've used that as the hurdle. They could have had them talk about wanting different things in a relationship. Literally anything that wasn't Tommy basically telling Buck it's over because he's not enough of a stereotype. Because bisexuals don't know what they want. Clearly.
It's very infuriating and I'm so sorry that yet another piece of media treated bisexual people like fucking shit.
And it's really fucking infuriating that people who aren't bisexual are defending Oliver over his comment. Again, have your different opinions but don't speak over people that are bi and already have to deal with biphobia in our shitty society
This show went about it all in an awful way, and I'm really sad that we were all tricked into believing they'd handle it better
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creedslove ¡ 2 years ago
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DESERVE IT - PART FOUR
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Javier PeĂąa x f!reader
Summary: after the traumatic night you were doing your best to keep things to yourself, but when a co-worker begins to bother you, you make a decision that brings consequences no one imagine and now it's Javier's turn to take your side, despite the bad situation involving the two of you
Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of smut, kind of unrequited love, sexual harassment, violence, verbal abuse like a lot of verbal abuse, physical abuse, protective Javier, this one is heavy sorry
A/N: Idk I was so invested in this chapter because reader is me (us) and I love the drama
• PART ONE
• PART TWO
• PART THREE
3.6k words
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The reflection that stared back at Javier in the mirror disgusted him to no end. 
He hated every single detail about it, its looks, its attitude, its job, its shitty choices. 
Javier PeĂąa hated himself.
He was a low life, he knew that and never actually hid it, but to know you now, not only knew for a fact he was one, but told him to his face made it everything worse. 
He wasn't a hypocrite, he knew you were right, he was never going to try to convince you otherwise, there was no mistake, no misinterpretation in the world that could somehow lessen what he'd done to you. 
He'd ghosted you, ignored you, been cold, rude, he'd complained about how well you treated him, even if that was the only good thing he had in his life. The kindness he received from you without expecting anything in return was something he should've refused but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 
And he knew he should've kept to himself the moment you refused his flirting. That was what he did to the very few women who refused him, but he just couldn't resist. 
The way you laughed softly and bit your lips, an adorable pink spreading on your beautiful face as you leaned closer and watched him up and down. 
"If it weren't for the heartbreak I still got, I'd be under you right now" you chuckled "and then I'd be on top of you and if you really played your cards right, I'd be on my hands and knees" you burst out laughing, sipping the drink he'd paid you and looking down in embarrassment. 
That was your first ever interaction outside the office and after you were bluntly honest with him, he wasn't able to let you go. 
You were too good, too pretty, too funny and too damn sexy. 
After that, he promised himself he wouldn't let you get hurt, but he couldn't stay away. Each time your face lit up when he said something about your nails, or how you smiled when he called you a pet name and the next thing Javier leaving small gifts on your desk. 
It was stupid, he felt so dumb when you arrived at work and saw the small chocolates, or the flowers, but the moment you smiled at him and rushed to his desk to thank him, it made it all worth it. 
Then you began hanging out on the weekends too, at first it was a shy restaurant recommendation, that quickly turned into a ride to the restaurant and that evolved into lunch or dinner together. 
During the week, the smell of food coming from your apartment was tempting, and though Javi salivated just to picture how good it would be to have some homemade food again, he was too embarrassed to knock on your door and ask for a plate. 
As if you'd read his mind you knocked on his door, offering some and that became a habit. 
You were right when you rubbed on his face he enjoyed being treated like your boyfriend, he really did. That way he could be near you and daydream about how things could be if he were a different man. 
He never meant to hurt you, but he began hurting you by letting you in, by not pushing you away when he had the opportunity to do so. He knew you, he knew you were past the relationship feelings a long time ago, maybe you didn't tell yourself that, but he could tell you liked him in a way it was fair to you, because he liked you just as much, though it took him some time to bring himself to admit it himself he was in love. 
But nothing good ever came from that. 
Even the times Javier was actually in love, it faded as quick as it started. He was a guy that had passions, but they never lasted. So he couldn't do that to you. He couldn't let you think you two could be together knowing some day he would probably wake up and see his feelings for you had changed, while you were stuck in love with someone who didn't deserve you. 
He couldn't be like your ex, he hated that motherfucker with passion. Since the first time you mentioned your heartbreak, under all the amusement he felt at your words, he also felt a hint of anger. He didn't understand how a man could hurt a woman like you. 
You'd never told him exactly what had happened, and he never asked. It was pretty simple to him: if you wanted Javier to know, you'd tell him eventually. 
Of course he couldn't help wondering what he'd done to you. Several times Javi lay on his bed thinking of your past relationship. He assumed the guy had cheated, that was a real good reason for someone to become brokenhearted but he had a feeling that it could be more than that. Maybe he'd got someone else pregnant? It was one of the theories Javi came up with. 
When Steve had one drink after the other after work the day he actually got his shit back together after crying over Connie for weeks, he got tipsy and talkative, and he blabbered everything you'd confided in him. 
You'd been left at the altar by your fiance. 
You'd been left in front of everybody, family, friends, co-workers, while wearing a beautiful wedding dress that you picked so carefully, in order to make that day perfect in every way.
Your fiance had publicly humiliated you just like Javier did with fiancee a decade prior. 
Javier hated your ex with passion for what he did to you, and he hated himself even more to know that in a way, he was also that guy. 
He had to try and stop you from getting even more hurt by being around him, but just like everything in life, he screwed things up. 
When you woke up the morning after that horrible night, you wanted to disappear. You groaned as a pounding headache reminded you constantly of your very poor choices the night before and you closed your eyes wishing as hard as you could that what had happened would be just an awful nightmare and nothing more. 
But you needed to face reality. 
But reality could wait a little, so you spent the weekend locked in your apartment, literally playing dead, not wanting to see anyone as you thought about everything you were doing in life, you were so tired of that situation, tired of Javier, tired of your feelings for him. You were also tired of what was about to come, you just wished your heart would stop aching like it did. 
When Monday came, you ignored everyone and did your job. You went out for lunch on your own and returned for another shift of not making visual contact with anyone and praying that lump in your throat that suffocated you would go away. 
Javier and Murphy kept their voices low, so you didn't distinguish what they talked about, eventually you felt their gaze on you, which you also ignored. 
Steve looked around nervously at Javier who just looked away, avoiding you as much as you did him, but continued walking towards your desk, stopping right in front of it and rubbing the back of his neck.
"Um… Y/N?" Murphy smiled nervously "Javi and I left some reports with you last week because you were helping us with it and Messina wants them… where are they?" 
You bit your lips at the urgent need of bursting out laughing at his face. 
After everything they'd done, Steve had blabbered about your personal life and Javier… well, you didn't even like to remember it, they still wanted you to do their job? 
You thought of many ways you could snap in front of them, make a scandal and have the entire office's attention on them, but you quickly gave up, instead, you raised your head with a sweet smile
"Oh sorry Steve, I forgot them at home, but they'll be here first thing in the morning" you assured them. 
When both Javier and Murphy got to work the next day they found a huge pile of unfinished documents to fill. They looked at each other in confusion but what you'd done quickly sank in. For one second, they were both naive to the point of actually believing you would help them do their job after what happened. 
                              •••
Three weeks had passed since the Javier incident and you'd never been more isolated from everyone. As Javi used to be your favorite person to hang out, you still talked to Steve and Connie, and some other people from the office, but you ended up distancing yourself and they didn't seem to be too eager to get your company, so it was not like they missed you.
Steve was still single, going to bars almost every night but also managing to be a functional drunk by day and work as a cop.
As for Javier you didn't know and you didn't care, sometimes you could smell coffee coming from his apartment, or cooking oil, which meant he was probably making himself some french fries. He loved them just like the man child he was. 
You also didn't hear any commotion from his place, which meant whoever he was fucking was being silent. 
You missed him on a daily basis, everything reminded you of Javi and sometimes it even took you some time to process you weren't friends anymore when you saw something nice or funny and wanted to show him. 
But at the same time, you also felt proud of yourself for working on your emotional detachment from him. The first few days you thought it was impossible to be away from him, but you were getting by. 
On the other hand, one consequence of Javi's distance from you was the fact that Carlos took it as an invitation to hit on you. 
He started small, discret, but consistent. At first he just left small chocolates around your desk because he was so pathetic he had to imitate Javier, not being able to come up with an idea on his own.
You always got rid of them by placing them on Steve's desk when he wasn't around which led him to think they were a gift from Colleen. You chuckled to yourself when you heard his theory. You knew the fire was about to spread in that department but you simply didn't care. You wanted them all to fuck off. 
Then Carlos left you post its with several messages. They started humble and innocent, calling you pet names and other stuff, but after a while they started to become spicy, until he left you full, explicit words of what he would like to do with you in that ugly, sloppy handwriting of his. 
You kept them all in your drawer, you knew when the time was right you'd be able to use them in your favor. 
The morning you decided to wear a pencil skirt to work was when everything began going to shit. First, Javier's jaw dropped; he couldn't even pretend he didn't acknowledge your existence anymore. Instead, he just followed you with his eyes all around the office, like an animal and he didn't even care.
His jeans got tighter and he would let Pablo Escobar produce all the cocaine in the world if he could only know if you were wearing panties along that skirt or not. 
The mere idea of you bare under that teasing outfit in your workplace was enough to send shivers down his spine. It was enough to take all his focus away and the only picture in Javier's mind was to have you sitting on his desk, legs spread wide while he had his face buried between your folds. At that moment, he wanted to be nothing but your fuck boy, to make it up to you by fucking you like no other. 
"We gotta go, perv" Murphy interrupted his wet daydreams and reminded him they'd have to go to the streets. 
Carlos took their departure as an invitation to come closer, and as you grabbed yourself a cup of water he slapped your ass. 
"Ay que culo sabroso princesa" he whispered into your ear, without warning and making you spill some of your water. He laughed softly "leaving a wet path for me already?" 
Your blood boiled, if you had access to a gun you knew you would probably shoot that pig in the face, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs until someone actually put you out of your misery. 
You were so fed up, so tired, so angry with men taking everything from you. Your fiance, Javier, Murphy, Carlos… you felt you couldn't even live your life without having one of them ruining some aspect of it somehow. It stirred something in you and an idea popped into your head. You took a deep breath and controlled yourself again, you were going to make him pay, because if one of them got punished, the others would learn from the lesson. 
You turned to him and smirked. 
"You're all talk and no action. You've been dropping little dirty notes on my desk like a horny teen and made no moves… are you even interested in me?" You batted your eyes at him.
Carlos frowned softly and chuckled.
"I thought you hated me, you went pretty feral when I talked about Peùa a while ago, didn't ya?" 
"I did, but Peña is no longer in the picture and I heard hate fucks can be even better than love ones… I haven't tried these yet, but maybe you could help me with that?" You smirked and took his hand writing down the address to a shady hostel known by the cops who investigated downtown. 
"Eight PM. Bring a bottle of wine and a bottle of lube, ya que te gusta mi culo" you whispered and saw the color drain from his ugly, pathetic face. "Nobody will suspect a cop and an assistant carrying out an investigation there, right?" You winked at him and walked away. 
Carlos believed you so easily for a second you though he was the one messing with you, but turns out he was just simply and straight up stupid. 
The next step was easy. 
You excused yourself to mail some documents and on your way back you also mailed the collection of obscene post-its to Carlos' house, where his wife received them. The last one had the time and the address she should go to. 
And the rest was history. 
When morning came, gossip spread through the office like wildfire, thanks to Colleen who heard it from a cop, who heard it from another and by 9AM everyone knew agent Carlos Galindo had been caught red-handed by his wife who immediately pulled out a huge scene dragging attention from the whole block.
There was crying, screaming, slapping, scratching and accusations, and according to Colleen, Mrs.Galindo had kicked him out of home and forbade him from seeing the kids. 
Apparently a mysterious woman had set the whole thing up, and no one knew her identity. 
Though Murphy had a pretty good idea, he shot you a smirk "don't you think it's a whole lotta coincidence Carlos got into this shit now that he'd been harrassing you?" 
ou shrugged and smiled big, it was the first time Javier had seen you smile for real in almost a month and he cursed himself to see his heart skipped a beat.
"Well, I know some men think they can get away with everything, but they gotta learn they can't just play with women as if we were nothing" you accidentally glanced at Javier and he caught your eyes. Shit.
You cleared your throat and hoped you weren't blushed "anyway, whoever did this knew he deserved it" you winked at Steve and went back to work.
You were finishing another report, going over the spelling again to make sure there were no mistakes when a commotion dragged your attention.
You could hear some muffled voices which became loud as someone approached the room. You looked at Javier and Murphy, the three of you confused at what the heck was going on. 
Colleen's voice wasn't much more than a nervous squeak, telling whoever the person that was coming wasn't a good idea. 
And then you saw him. 
Carlos was standing there, fuming, with red blood eyes, looking like he hadn't seen a shower in ages, still with his work uniform and staring at you with a death glare. 
Anyone could see he was clearly out of his mind, but everyone seemed to look at him in a mix of awe and curiosity. 
You thought it was so amusing to see him in that shitty state, but your smile immediately died when you saw him taking some steps towards you. He had a bottle of wine in hands and his lips twitched in an attempt of a smile which turned into a sinister face.
"Buenos días puta" he said "I waited for you last night, but you never showed up, whore. My wife did though and she wasn't happy about it, and I bet my heavy balls you were the cum dumpster slut who called her" he said getting near your desk at the same time Javier stood up, calling Carlos' name in order to draw attention to himself, but he was ignored. 
"I'm such a gentleman I even brought you your bottle of wine, I hope you enjoy it, puta" he said angrily before shattering the bottle against the edge of your desk and spilling wine all over the floor. Carlos' hand immediately yanked a handful of your hair and pulled you against his body, pointing the sharp glass towards your neck. 
Murphy and Javier began trying to talk to him, in order to distract the man and get you safely out of his hands. 
The grip on your hair was painful and though you didn't think Carlos would do it, you couldn't help but being scared. 
"You're nothing but a bitch, a cum dumpster for the guys in the office, you are worthless Y/N, you destroyed my marriage and now you'll pay, you'll s-" 
Carlos was interrupted mid sentence when Javier elbowed his ribs as hard as he could, ignoring completely his police training that was clear when it said the agents should keep calm in a dangerous situation, he just went to action. He didn't give a shit if Murphy wanted to follow the protocol, he wouldn't stand there and watch that motherfucker talk to you like that, let alone try to hurt you. 
Carlos dropped the sharp bottleneck and gasped for air, as you ran away from his grip and didn't know what to do. 
He immediately turned to Javier, all his anger focused on the man, as they began a real dog fight, Carlos threw a few punches at Javier, but he stepped over the spilled wine and fell onto the floor. Peùa didn't think twice before kicking him, not caring if he was already down. Carlos managed to stand up even though he struggled and laughed softly as found you pressed against the wall, watching the scene with horror in your eyes. 
"You're scared now? Don't be, malparida. Save your scared look for when I'm fucking all of your tight pretty holes until you are crying and bleeding and whimpering for your manwhore prince charming to save you" he said darkly "I'll do you worse than any Escobar men would" 
Everybody went silent when you heard the click of a gun's safety. Carlos went dead quiet when he felt the cold metal against his neck. 
You could barely believe the scene of Javier standing there, pointing a gun at a fellow cop just to defend you. Murphy also tried to calm the both of them down, but at that moment you felt as if you'd gone deaf. All you could hear was Javier's words. 
"Turn around, Carlos. Turn around nice and slowly" he commanded in a surprisingly calm voice and the disgusting man who had just been making horrible threats looked like a scared stray dog, obeying Javier, he meet his angry eyes.
"Now you listen to me… you will never get near Y/N again, got it? Never!!! You will never step into the same room she's in, you will never call her those things, got it? She's not a puta, she's not a whore, she's not a cum dumpster… You deserved what happened to you and if you make Y/N slightly uncomfortable I'll shoot you in the face" Javi lowered his aim a little, now his gun pointed right between Carlos' eyes. 
"I'll do you worse than Escobar men would"
The man went completely silent as he remained at Javier's gunpoint. 
No matter how many times Murphy and other people that arrived just in time to watch the grotesque scene asked Peùa to calm down. He would still hold his gun against Carlos, the waves of rage flowing through his body as he thought of every second of what that animal had done to you. 
His heart was racing with adrenaline and he felt an urge to pull the trigger. 
He just came back to his senses when he felt a soft, warm hand on his arm, looking at it and recognizing the pretty nails done just like he loved observing. 
"Javi… put the gun down please" 
Your voice calling his name after so long of being ignored. He wasn't Peùa, he wasn't Javier. He was Javi. He was your Javi again, at least that was what he hoped for. 
He looked at you and saw your scared eyes, finally putting his gun down just like you'd asked for and nodded at you. 
"It's okay, it's over now, cariùo, I'm here to protect you" 
_____
A/N: did you guys go soft for Javi now?
660 notes ¡ View notes
anyasathenaeum ¡ 2 years ago
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"There's Only One Bed" Trope
Pairings: Vash x reader, Wolfwood x reader (separately)
A/N: Please be nice, this is the first time I'm writing for Trigun. I have no idea what I'm doing but here, have this I guess?? Feedback is welcome, just be nice please .-.
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Vash The Stampede
"I'm gonna kill him."
You and Vash both arrived outside the door to the same room at the same time, each of you looking at the other, confused. Only to find out Wolfwood had told each of you separately that you had this room to yourselves. He had been planning this all along.
'That sneaky bastard,' You thought to yourself, feeling a tinge of irritation at being set up.
"H-Hey! Please don't, I'm sure it was an honest mistake!" Vash chimed in, a nervous laugh escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Relax, Stampede, I'm not gonna kill Wolfwood. I might hurt him, though. He set us up," You grumbled, fiddling with the key to your room and just about tearing the door off its hinges as you entered.
"I can take the floor as long as you give me a pillow," You muttered tiredly over your shoulder to Vash, fighting to keep the heat from rising to your face.
You hated to admit it, but sharing a bed with the Humanoid Typhoon actually didn't sound too bad. Vash had been nothing but kind to you in all your time travelling with him, and you couldn't help it - the guy was pretty damn loveable when you got to know him.
"Oh, no! It's okay, I can take the floor, honestly, I don't mind! You can have the bed, (Y/N), you look pretty tired and I'm sure you could use the rest."
Vash's tone was kind, and when you looked over at him, he was just smiling at you warmly. You quickly looked away, praying Vash wouldn't notice, before humming to yourself for a moment in contemplation.
"Well, that's no good either. I don't know about you, Vash, but I'm fine if we share a bed. If you're not comfortable, though, that's okay, too. We'll figure something out," You offer, not looking at him as you feel the warmth creeping up in your face again. The things this man did to you.
"You sure, (Y/N)? I don't mind the floor, honest!" Vash asked, clearly not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
"You're not sleeping on the floor, Vash. You need rest just as much as I do. Come on, we'll just share, okay?" You stated, making a decision for the both of you.
"O-Okay!"
The word that slipped from Vash's lips came out a bit strangled, causing you to look over at him, only to see that his face had become as bright red as his coat.
Stifling a laugh, you called out teasingly, "You okay there, Vash? You're blushing pretty hard. Cat got your tongue?"
Vash just gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head with his prosthetic hand, "I-I just haven't shared a bed with another person in a really, really long time."
You laughed softly under your breath, before walking over the the bed and turning down the covers, getting the bed ready for you two to sleep in.
"Don't worry, Vash. I promise I don't kick or bite in my sleep. Or, at least, I don't think I do."
"You're a cuddly sleeper."
You froze at those words, turning to look at him with wide eyes, "What?"
Vash let out another nervous laugh, "You become cuddly in your sleep. I only know that because one night you fell asleep next to me and you latched onto me and didn't let go until shortly before you woke up."
You felt heat rush to your face as you spluttered, "W-What?! You never told me I did that! Oh, my God, I'm sorry, Vash, I didn't know I did that, that's so embarrassing, I-"
"Don't apologize," Vash cut you off, a genuine, soft smile on his face and a dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, "You were really cute. It felt nice to have you holding onto me."
"B-But what if that happens again tonight?" You retorted, slightly mortified by this new revelation.
Vash simply smiles bigger, his blush darkening, "You won't hear a complaint from me."
You were going to buy Wolfwood some new cigarettes in the morning in thanks.
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Nicholas D. Wolfwood
"Well, well, well. Whatcha doing on my bed, sweetheart?"
You sat up so fast you almost threw your back out at the sound of Wolfwood's voice, your gaze coming to rest on the man who was now leaning against the wall, cigarette between his smirking lips.
"Your bed? No, no, you're mistaken, this is my bed, Wolfwood. Meryl told me so herself earlier," You retorted, scowling at him as chuckled and stepped closer to the bed where you were sitting.
"Yeah? Well, little lady told me this was my room," Wolfwood replied cooly, his gaze resting on you as he chuckled again, showing you the same key as the one you had, "Guess she's played us both."
"Well, I got here first, so get out, Wolfwood," You hissed as you glared at him, annoyed at how relaxed and unbothered he seemed. He just always knew how to get under your skin.
"Yikes, don't you know God frowns on those unwilling to share, (Y/N)?"
The smirk on Wolfwood's face made you either want to hit him or kiss him, or possibly both, in that order.
"Oh, shut it, Wolfwood. You're not even that good a priest, so you don't get to pull that crap on me."
You stood up, getting closer to him, your hands crossed over your chest as you gazed at him, trying to be as cool and collected as he was, "So, what do we do?"
Wolfwood's eyebrows raised, an expression crossing his face that you couldn't pin for a split second before he smirked again, "We could always share, ya know."
"You. Share a bed. With me?" You reiterate slowly, your eyes narrowing as you looked at him, "Why on Earth would you do that? I mean, it's pretty obvious you can't stand me, so why would you offer to share a bed with me?"
Now an expression you'd never seen before on him but certainly recognized flashed across Wolfwoods face - surprise.
"You think I can't stand you?"
You shrugged your shoulders, trying to be nonchalant about it, "Well, yeah. You're always trying to make me mad or get a reaction out of me, you insult me, you condescendingly call me "sweetheart", the list goes on. I can't really see how that points to anything but you disliking me, Wolfwood."
"Nicholas."
You blinked. "What?"
"Nicholas. My name. Call me by my name."
Wolfwood's voice was gruff, his eyes watching you carefully as he spoke. He could see your eyes widening in surprise and confusion, to which he took the opportunity to step forward until he was just a little too close to you, getting up into your personal space.
"And listen, sweetheart, I don't dislike you. It's just fun seeing you squirm and get riled up - you're cute when you're angry."
Before you could even begin to process what Wolfwood had just said, he brushed past you, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to him with a smirk, his tone gently teasing.
"Come on, sweetheart. Lemme show you just how much I like you."
801 notes ¡ View notes
bookishtheaterlover7 ¡ 9 months ago
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a/n: Hello, my fabulous Readers! It's been a hot second since I last wrote a fic. And I can honestly say, that I've been distracted by the whole Chris Drama and Fiasco. But that doesn't mean that I haven't been writing fics. I actually have a few lined up, that are definite WIPs, so stay tuned. In the meantime, I hope y'all will enjoy this fic.
Which I'm happy to dedicate to @cutedisneygrl, Happiest Birthday to you, girl! Thank you for always lending an ear, and also happily sharing your fics with us. You're awesome, and I hope you enjoy this fic. Sorry if it's a little late.
And to @royalwriteroftheuniverse, for being one of the best friends, I could ask for on here. You're one of the best, and honestly, you both deserve the best. ❤❤❤❤❤
Yes, this will be a thing now. Some of my fics will be dedicated to my friends, family, or even the fans like me, who are writing this. 😆🥺 So, without further ado, enjoy this fic. Hopefully it isn't too cringey.
Steve Rogers x civilian!Reader
Requested: Yes
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WARNINGS: None really... No mention of Y/n, Steve is a big softie, Y/n is kind of sad for most of the fic, food(?), feelings of loneliness...
Enjoy!
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I'm using this gif, because it's the one with my most favorite button-up, that Steve wears in the entire MCU. Feel free to comment what's your most favorite Steve casual wear in the entire MCU.
*Y/F/C/D = Your Favorite Cold Drink
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The clock continued to tic the hours away, as you laid on your bed. Trying to will it to move faster, and end the long day. Time always seemed slow during the tough days. Even longer lately, what with Steve being out on seemingly endless weeks of missions.
You really couldn’t complain, considering that that is his job. And it was all for the good of the future. Your future, together. Steve has been open about building a safe and happy future. And being able to secure it, one bad guy at a time.
You chuckle at the thought. Remembering the night Steve said those very words to you...
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You had called an hour before, needing to vent. Your work day was one of the worst you’ve had in a while, and Steve, hearing the frustration, and weariness in your voice, took it upon himself to try and make it better. He arranged the pillows to frame your bed, pulled the curtains closed, put the lamp on its dimmest setting, grabbed the comfiest blankets, and made a little love nest for you two love birds.
He nervously looked over every little detail. Fluffing up the pillows, smoothing down the bed sheets, pulling at the curtains, double and triple checking everything. Luckily, you announcing your arrival, broke his intense focus.
Steve rushed off. Tripping and stumbling on his own feet, regaining balance, and taking another look around, before stumbling once more, and finally hopping down to you. Not that you were having any of it. Immediately assuming that Steve had prepared something romantically sexy. Which, in Steve’s opinion, was sweet but nothing romantically sexy about his plans.
But at Steve’s insistence, and puppy dog eyes, you were, albeit begrudgingly on your part, lead upstairs to your converted room.
“You sounded so sad on the phone earlier, I wanted to do something special. Try and make your day a little bit better.”
You smiled as tears slowly filled your eyes. Jumping into Steve’s arms, as he picks you up, and puts you on the bed, to rid you of your work clothes. Slipping you into your favorite button-up of his.
You’d stay in the love nest for hours. Snuggled into the love of your life, except for the few times, he’d get up to get food and water. Insisting that he should get them, not wanting you to get up and leave your little bubble.
Few minutes into your meal of a shared bowl of chocolate covered fruits, Steve’s phone rang. Causing him to step out, to answer it. Not coming back until a few minutes later. His expression crestfallen, but trying his best to keep up a mask of happiness so as to not drag your already down mood. Ofcouse,you knew him well.
“They’re calling you away on another mission?” You asked, after a few minutes of silence.
“Yes. But it’s a necessary evil, if I want to build our future.” Steve sighed, giving you a weary smile.
“And I do want to build it, one bad guy at a time.” He continued, taking both of your hands in his.
“Are you proposing to me right now, Rogers?” You laughed.
“Believe me, Doll. When I propose, you’ll know...” Steve smiled.
“Well, until then, I’ll take a few of your shirts. But even after you ask, you might never get them back.” You declared teasingly, grabbing a strawberry and running off, as Steve gave chase.
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You sigh and get up out of bed, deciding to go down to your living room to watch a rom-com with your over-sized stuffed bear. But not before grabbing your favorite button-up shirt, that Steve left at the foot of your bed just before he drove off to the compound for his mission, a few days ago. You pressed it to your nose, inhaling the comforting scent of aftershave and wood, something that was uniquely Steve. And changed into it, buttoning up most of it, and leaving some undone.
You made your way down the stairs and into your kitchen, grabbing some leftovers stored in tupperwares, in your fridge, and preparing to heat them in your microwave. You stepped into your living room, turning on the TV. and arranging the throw pillows, blanket, and your bear, so that your couch has prime comfiness, all before the microwave dinged to signal that your dinner is warm.
You quickly grabbed it, utensils, and Y/F/C/D from the kitchen, carefully carrying them in your arms, and using your elbow to turn off the light in your kitchen. Leaving your living room lamp, and your TV as your only remaining light source. Creating some sort of ambiance that allowed for optimal comfort once you wrapped your shoulders in your blanket, placed your bear on your lap, and pressed play on your movie, before grabbing your food and settling in for the night.
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A few hours later, the roar of a Harley can be heard in the distance. A bit toned down, due to Steve knowing that most, if not all of the residents of his neighborhood were soundly and safely tucked in their beds.
The mission was shorter than expected, and for that he silently thanked God. Because he was able to come home to the woman he loved sooner than anticipated, and will be able to surprise her with the best gift he could ever give her. Him.
He shut off the engine, as soon as he arrived and parked on the driveway. Removing his helmet, grabbing his things that he had strapped to the back of his motorcycle, and grabbing his keys to unlock the front door.
The first thing he noticed was the TV was on (hard not to when he noticed the dim glow coming from the living room). The one thing he didn’t expect as he was reaching for the remote was the sight of you holding your bear, the very over-sized bear that he had won for you at the Fair last month, close to you, one of your cozy blankets draped over your shoulders, and the collar of his button-up peaking from under the blanket.
He chuckled at the adorable sight, but sighed softly. Knowing you well enough, that you had a rough day, just by needing any semblance of him near, and needing every aspect of your cozy cocoon in order to feel better. He knew what was needed, and it was something he definitely needed for himself too.
And so, he put his bag and shield down to the side of the recliner to the right of the TV, out of the way, so that none of you would trip on it the next morning. Removed his leather jacket, and placed it on the arm of the couch by your feet, before kneeling down by you, to get on the proper position to be able to pick you up, and carry you bridal style. Hopefully without fully rousing you from your sleep.
You were half awake as Steve slowly made his way up the stairs, to your shared room. The blanket still wrapped around your body, essentially wrapping you up in a burrito. You felt the need to find more warmth and comfort from the solid wall of muscle that you were resting against. And so snuggled needily into it, much to Steve’s amusement.
And that is why he decided to remove his shoes, before going into bed with you a minute later. Not wanting you to spend even a minute without your human teddy bear. He could change and take a shower in the morning, he just knew you both needed the other near.
“I’ve got you, Doll... And I’m not going anywhere...”
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a/n: Hope y'all enjoyed it. I'm kind of nervous uploading this, and I'm also worried that it's cringey. Love y'all, Bookies! Stay sane, especially with things coming up in the Fandom soon.
Steve Rogers Masterlist
Chris Evans Characters Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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nostalgicnarrator ¡ 3 months ago
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Over Hill and Under Mountain
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Word Count: 6,003
Parings: Thorn X Bilbo
Description:
Bilbo wakes up…
Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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Warning:
No one’s getting horribly mangled, murdered or deep-fried just warning.
Note:
Guys I’ve edited this and edited this and fixed it a million times and I am convinced I’ve lost all meaning to words, if there’s anything wrong or anything that doesn’t make any sense at all let me know.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Bilbo found himself waking up to the soft sounds of a distant waterfall and the chirping of birds. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but the sheets beneath him were light and soft, the air was filled with a familiar faint floral scent mingled with the sharper smell of herbs. 
He blinked slowly, the room around him coming into focus, a gentle light filtering through the sheer curtains, there was a gentle breeze brushing through the room.
Bilbo turned his head away from the light, feeling a dull throb coming from his head and a tender pain in his side. He squeezed his eyes shut with a groan as he tried to sit up. Suddenly, a wave of nauseating dizziness washed over him.
Bilbo let out a whine of pain. A rough hand found its way to his chest and back, steadying him. Bilbo opened his eyes quickly and followed the arm until Óin appeared at his side.
The healer offered him a kind look, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as he helped Bilbo into a more comfortable position. “Easy there, lad,” Óin murmured. “You’ve been through quite a bit. No need to rush things.”
Bilbo nodded, his gaze drifting to the window. Outside, the world seemed so serene, the river glistening in the sunshine, its surface like glass. 
He suddenly felt worlds away when he remembered his tumble down that slope. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. He shook his head and decided to look around.
“How long have I been here?” Bilbo asked, his throat felt dry and scratchy from disuse, he tried to clear it but found it no use.
Óin disappeared from his side for a moment before returning with some water. “Three days,” Óin replied. “I’ve done what I can with a little elven healing on the side.” He said as he helped Bilbo drink. 
The water was cool and refreshing as it eased the dryness in Bilbo’s throat. He let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, Óin.” Suddenly a memory hit him and his brows furrowed. “Gandalf, I-I was traveling with him…Óin, Is he-?”
“He’s fine lad! Knew you were a little out of it from the fall didn’t think it was that bad-” Óin chuckled. “He’s outside, keeping an eye on things. You gave everyone a scare.”
Bilbo managed a weak smile. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.” 
“Nonsense,” Óin said gruffly. A kind look found the old healer's face as he spoke.“Just focus on getting better, alright?” And Bilbo couldn’t help but nod.
But as the days passed and his strength slowly returned, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that settled in his chest, that something was wrong or misplaced.
And being confined to bed was driving him mad. He began wanting for a distraction, for something to take his mind off his new weird feelings.
One morning, after a lot of “please, Óin!” and “I promise, Óin,” and “just for a bit at least! You won’t be far away, I’ll call for you if I feel sick suddenly,” Bilbo finally managed to convince Óin to let him have visitors.
Bilbo felt his face light up when Gandalf entered the room, carrying a stack of books from Elrond’s library, a familiar glint nestled kindly in Gandalf’s eye.
“I thought you might enjoy some light reading,” Gandalf said, setting the books down on the bedside table. “I’ve also brought a friend.”
“A friend?” Bilbo echoed excitedly, was it Thorin, was Thorin here and the Dwarf was simply not allowed to see Bilbo yet?
But a bit of that hope flattened when a small black shape fluttered through the doorway, it was Hugin. Bilbo smiled kindly all the same though as Hugin perched on the bedpost. The bird ruffled his feathers and tilted his head at Bilbo.
“Hugin!” Bilbo said as excitedly as he could. “It’s good to see you.”
Hugin flapped his wings once, hopping in place a bit. “Good to see you too, Master Baggins! I had delivered your letter and then all of a sudden I was sent here!”
Gandalf smiled at the two and excused himself to speak with an elf who called for him at the door, leaving Bilbo and Hugin alone. 
Bilbo leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Hugin, do you know if Thorin is coming? Did you hear anything when you delivered my letter?”
The raven blinked thoughtfully. “Well, I delivered your letter, I had a nice time there, Thorin keeps all kinds of tasty treats but nothing like you Master Baggins”
“Hugin, call me Bilbo, I’m not anything’s master” Bilbo said, rattling it off like he had said it a dozen times before.
“Right, yes, of course Master Baggins.” And Bilbo sighed loudly as the raven continued. “I was then sent away here with a letter from King Thorin. He looked really upset…” 
“What did it say?” Bilbo whispered to the raven, he felt his stomach begin to tie knots.
“I didn’t know, but I do remember that King Thorin said it was about you.” Hugin did his best attempt at a shrug. “I flew here as fast as I could and handed it over to the wizard when I saw him. After that Óin showed up!”
“Just Óin…he showed up alone? Do…do you think Thorin is mad at me? I am sure I am very late by now.”
“Master Baggins! How dare you suggest that! King Thorin cares for you very much! Thorin didn’t seem mad so maybe he’s already on his way to visit! And maybe Thorin is running late- oh! Or got lost! You know how he gets”
Bilbo chuckled and nodded, “yes I do, thank you Hugin…is there anything else…?”
“Yes! There was much whispering and fussing between the wizard, the healer, and the Lord of Rivendell; it started a few days after Óin showed up.”
Bilbo’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, whispering?”
Hugin nodded vigorously. “Aye, secretive talk. They all acted a bit strange, As if they were waiting for something… maybe something bad…?”
Before Bilbo could press further, Gandalf returned with a gentle smile. “I see you two are catching up,” he said lightly, though his eyes seemed to be studying Bilbo carefully.
Bilbo nodded, dropping the line of questioning for the moment. “Yes, it’s been quite nice. Thank you Gandalf.”
Gandalf simply nodded, settling back into the chair by the bed. “Now, tell me, Bilbo, have you read up on Rivendell’s history? I thought you might find it fascinating.”
Bilbo smiled, letting the conversation shift, but a seed of unease had been planted, it made Bilbo feel something, something weird. Bilbo felt something, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. His unease was growing, and he knew that something was about to happen. He was sure of it.
A few days passed, and Bilbo was feeling well enough to sit up for longer periods.  Lord Elrond came to visit him in his room, Elrond smiled as he greeted Bilbo “How are you feeling, Master Baggins?” Elrond's voice was gentle as he took a seat by the bedside.
“Lord Elrond! It’s good to see you again! And I’m the master of nothing, call me Bilbo, as I had asked several times before.” 
Elrond chuckled and smiled, "Forgive me, Bilbo. It has been a long time since I have seen you, and old habits die hard." Bilbo grinned back, “Now tell me, how are you feeling?”
“Oh! Well, Óin says I'm getting better,” Bilbo replied. “Though, I do wish I could get out of bed. I feel horribly useless just lying here.”
Elrond chuckled softly. “Rest is a form of healing too, my friend. Your body needs time to recover.”
Bilbo gave Elrond a playful glare “I know that rest is a type of healing, but, I’m a restless hobbit!”
“Didn’t Mithrandir- Gandalf steal away some books for you?” and Bilbo could not stop himself from sighing at the elf’s words.
“A few, yes, but there is only so much reading can do for you! I’ve already read them twice over-“ Bilbo glared at the books that were now on a table across the room, he had read them not too long after Gandalf left. 
“Twice! You just got them only a few days ago, how in the name of Ennor did you manage that?” the elven lord raised a brow as he asked. Bilbo thought it looked a little out of place on the elf's face.
Bilbo huffed and snuggled back into his bedding, “I like reading…” he looked up when the Elven lord laughed. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“No- no! you misunderstand, you are such a curious hobbit, I’ll see about getting you something more to read soon” Elrond said after he calmed down.
Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms with a grumpy pout “I like histories and botany books”
“Of course” Elrond offered him a kind smile and Bilbo found himself smiling back. They settled into more boring topics as they spoke for a while longer. 
Sometimes turning the conversation to discuss Rivendell and the beauty of the valley. It felt all perfectly regular and Bilbo could feel some of that unease wash away from him.
Not long after Elrond left, Hugin came fluttering through his room window. The raven circled around for a bit before settling down on Bilbo’s bed.
The raven greeted Bilbo with a cheerful caw hopping over excitedly before dropping a small blue flower onto his lap. “I thought you might like this, Master Baggins,” Hugin chirped.
Bilbo smiled, picking up the flower. The color reminded him of Thorin, he brushed one of its petals with a soft smile. “Thank you, Hugin. It’s lovely.” He paused, ‘…Thorin.’ He heard his mind echo to him.
He sat up a little straighter, as far as he could stand without help, “Hugin” Bilbo started trying to keep his voice even and quiet, “can you tell me more about this letter you delivered from Erebor? Did you talk to Thorin?”
Hugin tilted his head. “Of course! I stayed in his chambers for a while, it was too cold on Raven hill.”
“You did? Can you tell me about him? How is he?” Blibo asked, it wasn’t the line of questioning he had meant to ask, but it was to late.
Hugin hopped into Bilbo’s lap and settled down comfortably, “Thorin looked fine, he looked like he always does-well, his Beard is getting long! He had a bead in it-“
“It’s already that long? Last time I saw him it was still short. Do you think he looks handsome like that?” Bilbo tisked and rolled his eyes, he reached to scratch Hugin’s head. “I told him if he grew his beard out he’d look handsome- always complaining about how ugly he is, can you believe that?”
The bird cooed at the scratches, Hugin huffed when Bilbo stopped, but decided to answer one of Bilbo’s questions “Thorin did kinda seem upset about something, but not mad. More worried, he was always pacing. I think he misses you, Master Baggins.”
Bilbo’s heart ached at the thought. “I miss him too,” he whispered. “I hope I see him soon…”
“Master Baggins, I told you, he’s gonna visit you, just give him time. Be patient!” Hugin cawed at him.
“Say you, you nearly had a fit when I told you dinner would be in a few minutes” Bilbo teased the bird.
“I had already waited hours!!” Hugin whined as he fluffed up
Bilbo gave a look he was sure his mother used to give him when he was acting out. “You had just finished eating less than an hour before!”
“But I was so hungry!” Hugin whined, the bird flopped over onto his back and looked at Bilbo “you were trying to starve me!”
“Hugin!” Bilbo laughed as the Raven kept whining. He couldn’t help but find it funny. And he gladly welcomed the change of topics. At least for now.
One afternoon, Bilbo had to convince Óin again, swearing he’d be fine. And after some more promising Bilbo found himself in a chair on a balcony.
It was a very nice day, strangely warm and the way the sun hit made Bilbo stretch out as much as he could comfortably in the chair he was in.
Bilbo smoked on his pipe peacefully. He blew a smoke ring and watched as it peacefully drifted away in a soft breeze. “I remember when we first came here, I spent most of my time exploring.” 
Bilbo looked over to the wizard next to him, Gandalf was giving him a soft smile, “I believe you did if I remember correctly. I believe I also remember you and Thorin disappearing for a time; I wonder what for.” The wizard hummed.
Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat, he ignored the last part of Gandalf’s sentence, he spouted whatever came to mind first. “Do you think he’ll come?” 
Gandalf raised a bushy brow at Bilbo as he smoked his own pipe, Gandalf blew rings that floated around him. Each ring a different color, they curled and weaved into one another.
“Who my dear boy?” Gandalf asked after blowing another ring.
“Thorin, do you think he’ll come…?” Bilbo rolled his pipe in his hands nervously.
“Ah….” Gandalf hummed for a moment, seemingly hesitating before smiling widely at him. “Perhaps? Though this seems more a question for Óin.”
“Óin…?” Bilbo echoed back, he looked over at Gandalf again.
Gandalf simply hummed and nodded his head before going back to smoking his pipe, Bilbo nodded to himself and decided he’d ask the Dwarf later.
When Óin agreed Bilbo’s health had improved enough to be allowed to explore the Last Homely House east of the sea. Though he had been there before, had already explored, He couldn’t help but find himself wandering the halls and gardens.
He remembered his first time there all over again. How the places felt like a haven to him. Other feelings he felt then came back to him, though not all were good feelings the sense of wonder was felt the most. 
With each step though the Elven halls, it brought relief to his crowded mind. He had begun to worry more over Thorin, his feelings for the dwarf and if everyone else was right.
He wanted to see Thorin badly, he had to see him. And as much as he wanted to ask Óin he couldn’t. He was scared of what the healer would tell him.
What if all his worries were true, what if Thorin really didn’t want to see him, ‘what if he hates me?’ Bilbo stilled at the thought.
‘What if he hates me…?’ Bilbo ran a hand through his hair. ‘What if he send another letter and he tells me he never wants to talk to me again? Tells me I should had stayed in the shire?’
Bilbo shook his head trying to chase the thoughts away again, he tried to focus on the feeling of the magic that was wrapping around him like a warm hug.
It brought with it memories that began to replace the foul thoughts in his head. Thoughts of home, of distant moments when he would come home with sticks and leaves in his hair, trailing in mud and fireflies.
His mother would march him off for a bath with the promise of stories of elves and all her adventures if he were to listen to her. Memories of how she would wrap him nicely in a warm towel.
Memories of his father and watching him sit at his desk, writing for long hours, Bilbo remembered how he would walk over and try and watch them his father would pull him to his lap and let Bilbo read as he wrote.
Memories began to mix, and change into different memories, ones that were not as distant of memories. Most were of a raven haired king, of how he was wrapped in a warm embrace.
He looked out over the garden, his mind wondered back to when he had last seen Thorin. The days they spent together when he visited, were lovely.
They had spent long hours walking the winding roads of the shire, telling stories and having a wonderful time.
He smiled widely as he stepped foot onto one of the garden’s paths. He began to trail slowly through the garden, the flowers still bloomed despite the cooler weather. Bilbo wondered if it was strange magic there that allowed them to.
Bilbo sighed and brushed his fingers along some vines that bloomed beautifully with flowers. He stopped at some soft blue flowers. He felt like they were glaring at him.
And then Bilbo was reminded, reminded of everything he was worried about and the growing unease that had begun to take root within him. And from there it only got worse.
It started with the small things, as all problems seem to do. He began to notice how Óin had begun to sneak away to speak in hushed tones with Gandalf or the Elves. 
And had even frequently caught the dwarven healer staring at him, his brow furrowed in thought, or pacing the halls while muttering to himself. 
The more Bilbo began to notice, the more he watched, the stranger things seemed, and he felt that something incredibly important was being kept from him.
One afternoon, Bilbo took a chance to explore more of Rivendell on his own. He wasn’t meant to be up that day, but Óin was preoccupied, so Bilbo took the moment to escape. 
That’s how he found himself in a dining hall, where an open letter lay on the table. Clearly forgotten by the elf lord or otherwise. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him, he leaned over and read a few lines.
Bilbo’s heart sinking as he read and learned, the letter spoke of dark forces gathering in the Gap of Rohan and spreading towards Mirkwood. 
Bilbo felt the uneasy feeling climb higher, something sick scratched and clawed inside him. Bilbo couldn’t understand it, didn’t want to, he was afraid but why? The issue was so far away and he was among eleven magics.
But before he could pull himself into a true panic, Óin spoke from behind him. “What do you think you’re doing, Bilbo?” Bilbo could hear the concern in the healers voice even when he tried to mask it with gruffness. “Didn’t I tell you to rest, Lad?”
Bilbo felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “I’m sorry, Óin. I just...”
Óin sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Aye, lad. But some things are best left alone until the time is right. Come, let’s get you back to bed.”
As Óin guided him back, Bilbo’s mind raced. ‘What else were they not telling me?’ He thought desperately, ‘Was this something that had to do with Thorin?’ ‘Was he okay?’ ‘Where was he?’ ‘Will he be here?’ ‘Was he even coming?’ His thoughts swirled around his mind.
Bilbo had to shake his dizzying thoughts away, he wondered vaguely if he should have asked Óin more, if he should do as Gandalf suggested.
Then the opportunity presented itself a few days later, as Bilbo sat by a small fountain with his eyes closed, listening to the soothing sound of the water, he heard the familiar sound of heavy footsteps approaching. 
He opened his eyes and smiled up at Óin as the older dwarf joined him, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Good morning, lad,” Óin greeted him, “You’re looking better today.”
“Thank you,” Bilbo replied with a nod. He let a comfortable silence fall between them, feeling the cool mist from the fountain on his face. 
After a moment, he decided that the time to question the dwarf had come. Trying to keep his tone light, he said, “I can’t help but notice you seem very busy lately. Is something the matter?”
Óin paused, his hand hovering over the pipe he was pulling from his pocket. He looked at Bilbo as if searching for something.
Then Óin sighed heavily before sitting down beside Bilbo. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before you asked,” he said, beginning to pack his pipe with tobacco.
Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
“Thorin was supposed to come with me lad,” Óin spoke loudly, though he often did. “We were to travel together, but he took too long…I feared I was out of time, so I left ahead. When I last saw him, he was waiting on Kíli and Fíli. We were supposed to meet in Mirkwood.”
“Then what happened…?” Bilbo asked, his anxiety creeping into his voice.
Óin shrugged. “Things didn’t go as planned, I assume. I came ahead.” He took a drag on his pipe, the smoke curling around his face. “After I arrived, we started getting a few letters from Erebor.”
“Letters?” Bilbo pressed, hoping for more information.
“Aye,” Óin nodded. “Letters, mostly from Balin. They’re meant for Thorin when he gets here.”
“So… so he is coming…?” Bilbo muttered, Óin gave him a confused look and Bilbo suddenly remembered that Óin was hard of hearing and he wasn’t facing the hobbit to be able to read his lips.
“Thorin is coming?” He asked, trying to be a bit louder.
Óin gave a small nod. “I believe so. He and others will be here soon enough.”
“Others?” Bilbo asked, trying to keep his hope in check.
Óin hummed and nodded in agreement as he took another puff from his pipe. “Most likely Fíli and Kíli, Nori and probably Dwalin- maybe Bombur but I doubt it, he’s waiting on his Brother and cousin  to come back. That group is bound to be slower than I was, especially with the princes.”
“How-how long ago was that…?” Bilbo’s voice cracked as he asked, he would tell you it was because he had to be louder than he liked.
Óin looked down at Bilbo and sighed, placing a comforting hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. “Traveling on any road isn’t without danger. But I’m sure they’ll be fine, lad.”
Despite the reassurance, a flowering anxiety bloomed in Bilbo’s chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.
The next day Bilbo skipped First breakfast, he couldn’t eat anything and if he did he began to feel sick. He decided since he was unable to do anything he’d go find someone to bother.
He very quickly found Gandalf strolling through the gardens. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze, and birds sang in the trees. It would have been very pleasant if Bilbo didn’t feel like throwing up.
He fell into step beside Gandalf, who greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Bilbo. Feeling restless today, I see.”
Bilbo nodded, his hands fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. “Gandalf,” he began hesitantly, “do you think they’re alright? Thorin and the others, I mean.”
Gandalf’s expression softened, and he paused in his walk, placing a gentle hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “I do,” he replied calmly. “This is Thorin we are talking about. You should know better than anyone, that they have faced far worse than an unwilling path.”
Bilbo nodded again, but he still felt the sickening anxiety twisting within him. “I just… I can’t help but worry. I suppose I am truly turning into an old fool…”
Gandalf sighed.  “ you have always been a foolish Hobbit Bilbo, have no doubt on that”
“Thank you Gandalf, you know you must work on your reassurances”
Gandalf chuckled and nodded “ I suppose so, have patience, my dear boy. They will come. I’m certain of it.” He patted Bilbo on the back before walking again. 
Bilbo quickly followed beside the gray wizard. Gandalf spoke again “In the meantime, take solace in the peace of this place. Rivendell has a way of healing more than just the body.”
Bilbo managed a small smile at the attempt of comforting words. As they continued their walk, he tried to focus on the beauty around him, but his thoughts still remained with his Dwarfs
Bilbo had been doing his best to occupy his mind, focusing on light walks through Rivendell or engaging in pleasant conversations with whomever he could catch.
Unsurprisingly it was often Gandalf or Lord Elrond who kept him company, though sometimes Hugin would follow him around. They felt almost like a temporary balm to the unease that had been growing slowly within him.
But then, without warning, it happened. It was a perfect afternoon, well a nearly perfect one, at least. The sun had bathed the garden in a kind golden light.
Bilbo found himself alone among the flowers, their bright colors almost too bright in the light of the day. He couldn’t help but marvel at the delicate petals. He inhaled deeply, trying to savor the sweet, earthy scent of each flower.
Suddenly, Bilbo’s world tilted. The sturdy earth beneath his feet shifted. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest, stealing his breath away.
He tried to breathe in air, but his lungs refused to cooperate, leaving him gasping, each breath undoubtedly ragged, in a desperate struggle. The once calming warmth of the sun turned sharp and burning.
His hands instinctively grabbed at the ground, as he fell to his knees. Bilbo’s fingers dug into the soft soil wanting for an anchor to keep him in reality. 
Panic surged through him, cold and swift. He shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness that clouded his mind, but it only made things worse. The vibrant colors of the garden; the reds, yellows, and blues of the flowers he’d been admiring, began to blur together, their edges softening and darkening.
Darkness slowly dug its claws into him and the edges of his vision. Bilbo felt his arms tremble, his strength had left him almost completely. Bilbo glanced around, his eyes still wild-eyed, searching for someone, anyone, who could help him.
But the garden was deserted, and the realization struck him, and struck him hard. He wined and Bilbo could feel tears blurring the rest of his vision, he was alone.
A strangled sound escaped his throat as his arms finally gave out. He buckled, and crumpled to the ground, the impact sending a jolt of pain through him. 
Panic swelled within his chest, mingling with the suffocating sensation that gripped his lungs. ‘I’m gonna die here’ his mind all but screamed. 
He tried to get up, but his body stubbornly refused, limbs failing to obey any of his frantic commands. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of terror and confusion, ‘I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die’ ‘help, please no’ ‘wheres Thorin?’, they all swirled together making it impossible to think clearly.
He tried to scream, to call out for help, but the sound that came out was pitifully weak, barely more than a desperate whisper. He blinked away his tears as his vision began to narrow. 
He had no sense of time, no way of knowing how long he lay there, struggling to breathe, to move. It could have been seconds or hours; it all blurred together in a haze.
Then, through the fog, he heard it, the familiar sound of boots thumping they’re way up the path. Bilbo’s heart leaped with a flicker of hope, and with a desperate strength, he forced his body to move. 
He rolled over onto his side, dragging himself forward with trembling arms. The effort was agonizing, and a scream tore from his throat, louder this time, ripping his throat raw.
Before he knew anything else Óin was there. The healer knelt beside him, his hands moving swiftly. “Stay awake for me, lad,” Óin muttered, his voice gruff but concerned.
Bilbo whimpered in response, the pressure in his chest easing away slightly as Óin worked. Bilbo gasped, drawing in a deeper breath than before, but it wasn’t enough. 
The darkness was still there, hovering on the edge of his vision, wanting, clawing for him. He felt Óin’s arms scoop him up.
“Keep your eyes open, now.” Óin’s panic was clear, “you’ll be alright lad, come on.” Óins panic pierced through the haze that was clouding Bilbo’s mind.
Bilbo tried to hold on, really he tried, but it was no use. The darkness was too strong, its grip tightening around him. Óin’s voice became a distant echo, fading further and further away until there was nothing but silence. 
After that Óin refused to leave his side, and if he did it wasn't for long, more then once Bilbo would devolve into random fits and when he’d come to and Óin would be holding him tightly.
Bilbo’s fever had returned, worse than before, and the wound on his head began to fester strangely. Dark thoughts crept into every corner of Bilbo’s mind as the sickness took its hold.
Bilbo struggled to remember what happened, or how to keep his memories straight but he remembered when he began to hear the whispers.
they would come and go from him, often more at night. They seemed to come from the walls or the deep inky shadows that crept and shifted in the darkness. 
The few things he could remember was how the whispers were soft, lullingly quiet and almost relaxing. But then they grew louder, the whispers began to change and warp, to something he had never heard before. 
He could hear snatches of an otherworldly melody, haunting and distant, followed by a deep, resonant humming that sent shivers down his spine.
“Do you hear that?” he asked Óin one night.
Óin frowned. “Hear what, lad?” Óin asked as he slowly stopped what he was doing and made his way to Bilbo’s side
“The voices… the music,” Bilbo whispered.
Óin exchanged a worried glance with Gandalf, who too began staying at Bilbo’s side. “There’s no music, Bilbo,” Gandalf said gently. “It’s just your mind playing tricks, you’re alright.”
But Bilbo was not convinced. The whispers, the singing grew louder, sometimes forming words he could almost understand, other times dissolving into soft laughter or high-pitched, eerie tones that seemed to bounce off the walls. 
“Am I…am I going mad,” he whined as he looked at Óin, clutching the sheets tightly. “I don’t want to go mad Óin make the music stop, make it stop, stop, stop!.”
Bilbo had gripped at his hair desperately, he felt rough hands take his and untangle them from his hair “don’t do that lad. yer not going mad, I promise I’m not going to let ya go mad, okay?”
Bilbo didn’t remember what he said after that, the next thing he did remember was how he felt as if he were being watched, at all times, but whenever he turned to look, there was nothing there. He felt unseen eyes burning into him, watching his every move.
He remembered how his sleep became restless, filled with nightmares of dark corridors and shadowy figures. He would wake up drenched in sweat, gasping for air, his heart racing.
One  he could remember vividly, he didn't think he could ever forget. He dreamt of Thorin, standing tall as he always did, his blue eyes piercing and determined. 
But then, the dream shifted. Thorin was surrounded by orcs, their dark forms swirling like a storm around them. Blood, thick and dark, oozed down Bilbo's arms. 
Bilbo tried to run, to get to Thorin but his feet wouldn’t move. Suddenly, a sharp blade sliced through the air, embedding itself into Thorin’s side.
Thorin reached out to Bilbo, his eyes wide with pain and fear. “Bilbo…” he whispered before collapsing to the ground. Bilbo screamed.
He woke up with a start, screaming still. “No! No! Thorin, no- wait, please, no! You can’t!” He thrashed against the sheets, tears streaming down his face. 
Someone grabbed his arm, the voice spoke softly, rumbling in tone. but their voice was lost in the roaring thunder in his ears.
Suddenly, Gandalf was there, his arms wrapping around Bilbo, pulling him close. “It’s alright, Bilbo,” Gandalf whispered, his voice steady but filled with concern. “You���re alright. Hush now. What you saw isn’t real; it didn’t happen.”
But Bilbo shook his head frantically, the tears coming faster. “No! It happened, Gandalf! I saw it -I saw it happen! I saw it!”
From that night on, Bilbo’s fever worsened. It became even harder for him to distinguish between his dreams and reality, Bilbo's mind was beginning to blur memories and images, facts and fictions.
He had lost all meaning to any sound other than the whispers. The walls seemed to close in on him, and the shadows danced just out of reach, taunting him.
He felt as though he were sinking, the weight of his own body pressing him down. He tried to move, to speak, but his limbs felt heavy, like lead.
Bilbo’s mouth refused to form the words. He felt trapped in his own mind, a prisoner to the fever that burned through him.
In his fevered state, he often found himself standing in an endless void, a blackness so deep it seemed to swallow all light. He would whip his head around desperately for anything familiar, but there was nothing, just the dark, endless void. 
Then the ground beneath him would shift, and he would feel himself falling, spiraling down into an abyss with no end.
He heard chanting, deep voices singing in a language he didn’t understand. The sound was everywhere and nowhere, vibrating through him, filling him with a strange mix of dread and awe. 
He tried to cover his ears, but the sound was inside his head, reverberating through his very bones. “Gandalf,” he whimpered, “make it stop. Please, make it stop.”
Gandalf was always there, by his side, whispering soothing words, but Bilbo could hardly understand them. The words began to sound like rolling thunder, and soon even Gandalf’s voice was lost in the noise.
Bilbo felt himself slipping further away, the world around him growing darker, colder. The room spun, and Bilbo felt panic grip it's cold claws into him again. He didn’t want to lose his grip on reality. He didn’t want to fall into the darkness that waited at the edge of his mind. But he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t fight it. The darkness was pulling him down, down into its cold embrace.
He could hear his own heartbeat slowing, the music growing louder, consuming him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, there was only the music, the haunting, terrifying music.
Just when he thought he couldn’t bear it any longer, he heard a new sound,a clear, strong voice cutting through the chaos. It called his name. “Bilbo!” the voice rumbled, filled with fear and urgency. “Don’t ya dare, lad! Come on! Damn it, breathe!”
Bilbo’s eyes snapped open, he took a deep breath as his surroundings began to come back to him, he couldn’t help the cry that escaped him as his chest throbbed in pain, someone took his face in their larger hands.
“That’s it, breathe, deep breaths. Come on, stay awake lad” Óin’s voice rumbled close to his ear. The dwarf let go of his face and turned to Gandalf. “Keep him with us, Gandalf.”
Gandalf’s face appeared in Bilbo’s blurred vision as the wizard held his arms tightly. “Fight for us, Bilbo. Come on. You must fight it. Think of Thorin! The blasted dwarf is always late, isn’t he?”
But Bilbo was so tired, so very tired. His body ached, his head throbbed, and he felt as if he were being pulled in a thousand different directions. 
The world around him blurred again, and he felt himself beginning to drift. “I’m tired… Gandalf,” he whispered softly, his eyes fluttered as he tried to keep awake.
Gandalf held him tighter. “No! No, no, no, hold on, Bilbo. Hold on!” He glanced over his shoulder, panic flickering in his eyes. “Óin!”
But it was too late. The darkness came again, enveloping Bilbo in its cold, endless embrace. And it was horrible.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Note:
I’ll be editing chapter 5 if you need me. Have a good day/night.
@m4yh4ps @bllbabaggins
33 notes ¡ View notes
clubdionysus ¡ 7 months ago
Text
[BAD DECISION #9] White
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warnings: birdie time he he. honestly just very wholesome all round, but the embers are burningggg, they’re very wet! fantastic! (1) mention of Hang Sơn Đoòng (worlds biggest cave).
soundtrack: lemon - loco, hwasa; safety zone - j-hope
wc: 6k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 
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It's mid-morning the following Monday when Jeongguk's message lands in your inbox. The sky is free of clouds, sun beating down on the windows of the subway carriage you're in. It's above ground, crossing the river.
Summer is reaching the end of its peak, but monsoons are still a looming threat. There have been weather warnings all month, but today seems okay. You've an umbrella tucked into your tote just in case, legs crossed as you flick through your notifications on the subway.
Three unread messages sit pretty at the top of your inbox.
Jeongguk: Still on for today?
Danbi: u, me, ryan reynolds in lycra, tonight. game?
Seokjin:  such a tease, you know i love those shorts on you - if memory serves me correctly they were off far more than they were on whenever you wore them ;) you around tonight?
Jeongguk is probably the only one who needs a reply, and yet you can't help but stare at Seokjin's message for a little longer than you should.
If Danbi knew you were texting him, she'd probably confiscate your phone, like your parents used to do during your teen years. Jeongguk would probably throw all your stupid little origami birds at you. Would hope you'd get a paper cut.
It'd be deserved, you think.
Jeongguk had wasted his entire Sunday on you as a result of Seokjin's carelessness. You didn't leave until Jimin had taken a nap on the couch at just gone six, your day full of mindless chatter and harmless distractions from Seokjin. It had been nice. Comforting.
And yet when you'd arrived home, a text had been waiting from Seokjin:
heyyy, sorry I had to rush off. didn't wanna wake you. you looked toooo cute. was so nice to see you again.
It's kind of embarrassing, the way your heart seemed to settle at the sight of it; like things were as they should be once more.
You told yourself that Seokjin hadn't meant to upset you. That it was all a big misunderstanding.
He said everything you wanted him to in that message. Said sorry. Maybe he didn't give you an excuse nor an explanation, but he did give you a compliment, and that had you giggling.
Had you thinking that maybe you'd been reactive, and were too highly strung. Perhaps he was never the issue. What if it was you?
Still, it's Jeongguk's message thread you tap through to instead - yeah, just on the subway now! we're still meeting there?
You contemplate whether or not you want to tell him that you've spoken to Seokjin later. He'll no doubt ask about him, with a sneer on his lips, nose upturned at the mere thought of him.
And so naturally, you know you'll lie. "No. Not heard from him."
It's not that you want to be dishonest. Not in the slightest.
You're no stranger to a white lie or two, but Jeongguk had scooped up all of your broken pieces in the early hours of yesterday morning, and tried to washi tape them back together - only for you to run straight back to the person holding a sledgehammer.
You don't want to be reckless with the care Jeongguk's afforded to you; it's just that while Jin's got a sledgehammer in one hand, it also looks like he's got super glue in the other. It's a little bit stronger than washi tape.
Especially Jeongguk's rolls of washi tape; which are the entire reason why you're spending your day off on the subway, and not tucked up in bed, instead.
Jeongguk had devised a plan following the fall of your origami bird, but had neglected to tell you exactly what that plan was.
Had said "look, I won't lie - I can't help you with this. Gimmie the evening to think of a plan, though? I'll text you later."
He'd texted you an address by the time you'd arrived home. Told you not to search it up; said he'd meet you there at midday. Kind of felt like a challenge, and you don't like losing - so you'd done as he'd said. Other than putting the address into Naver maps to find the route, you were none the wiser as to where you were headed.
The subway leads you to the outskirts of town. Down by the river, just a little further up from the arboretum you always tell yourself you should visit more often. You're local to the city, but it's so vast that there are still areas you aren't too familiar with. This is one of them. You know what's in the general area - the arboretum, an old water park, and some museums, but you've no idea what the exact address could be.
As you climb the stairs, you're regretful of the fact you actually listened to Jeongguk. Should have looked up the address beforehand. Seen what was about; what dress code would have been appropriate.
Denim shorts hug your curves, and a little white blouse sits prettily on your shoulders. You're making the most of the summer while it lasts; skin exposed, despite the judgement thrown your way by the ajummas you pass on the street.
A mirror selfie had been sent to Seokjin before you'd left the house, in reply to his collarbone-wielding, broad shoulder-baring bed selfie. His hair had been messy, and there was a little pink mark on his neck. You're pretty sure you left it there. Didn't wanna focus on it for too long just in case you realised that you... didn't.
There had been a little tactful positioning of your phone in front of your face when you took your photo. Had been covering your eyes. Hiding the glitter.
And it's funny, 'cause it's the first thing that Jeongguk notices when he spots you.
You're looking around, realising exactly where you are, a frown slowly forming. He'd expected nothing less. You always arrive with a small frown whenever he's around - but he also always manages to get you beaming, too. It's part of the charm that comes with being around Jeongguk. Bad moods dissolve into nothingness.
He smiles, just like he always does. Waves. Throws you not one, but two peace signs. His thin lips plumpen into a pout as he wiggles his shoulders, the ease of acting childishly coming naturally when he's around you.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He glows as if he hadn't seen you less than twenty-four hours ago.
Strolling towards you, he ignores the slight scowl that's resting on your neat brows. Just continues smiling. All doe-eyed and dainty. Hopes you won't be able to resist breaking into a smile, too.
He likes your glitter today. It's just in the corners of your eyes. Thinks you look like a fairy.
"I'm wearing white!" is all you can say, a little exasperation clouding your words, before laughter begins to tumble from your lips whether you want it to or not. "You asshole! You should have warned me!"
Jeongguk's wearing all black. A pair of shorts, a long sleeve swimming shirt and one of his many oversized black t-shirts over the top. See, he's dressed according to his plans - the plans that he neglected to share with you.
But he's a man. How much can you really expect from him? You doubt he's ever had to run home in the middle of a thunderstorm with his arms crossed over his chest to protect his modesty. Doubt his eyes have ever felt the unwelcome intrusion of sodden mascara running into them.
"Oh, chill out, Disco Ball," he banters, rolling his eyes as he twiddles his lip ring with his tongue. He comes to a stop in front of you. Pouts. Pushes his lips to the side, and his cheek slowly rises like a freshly baked loaf of bread. "It's only a little water. Worst comes to the worst, we'll just buy you another shirt."
When Jeongguk says it's only a 'little water,' he's telling a big fat lie.
You're both well aware that 'little' is hardly the appropriate word to use.
Not when you're standing next to the entrance of the largest outdoor waterpark in the city.
You don't want to say definitively, but you think it might be the largest waterpark in the entire district. Biggest you've ever been to, that's for sure, not that you really make a habit of it.
"Look," he says. "You're the one who wrote the bird, not me. Blame yourself."
"And you're the one who didn't give me a dress code," you reply with a small scoff. He's unbelievable.
It's not like he was ever supposed to see your birds. Your intention had only ever been for the pair of you to vent out your frustration; to see them in black and white and maybe colour them in.
"You could have just looked at Naver. Seen where you were going."
"You told me not to!"
Jeongguk smirks to himself, a little pleased with how much you seem to have blindly trusted him. He also thinks it's incredibly foolish, and adds it to his list of things he needs to worry about in the future. While it's him that you're mindlessly following the orders of, it's okay, he supposes. Knows you're safe. Nothing to worry about right now.
"You'll be fine, Byeol," he says, hooking an arm around your neck, rubbing his knuckles against the crown of your head. You don't even bother to scramble away, sensing his grip tighten when your back edges out from his grasp. With arms like his, you're ensnared whether you like it or not. "You bring your bird?"
He keeps his arm locked around your neck, resting on your shoulders, but stands a little straighter as you head in direction of the waterpark. His relaxed posture allows you to rummage around in your tote bag for the small piece of folded paper. It's in the bottom, a little crumpled, but still quite clearly in bird form.
Jeongguk pinches it from you as soon as you retrieve it, not seeming to care much for the fact that it's your bird. You're locked in by his arms as he strengthens some of the creases that have fallen lax thanks to the lack of attention you'd been paying when you tossed it into the bag.
"You're gonna give yourself bad bird luck," he tells you. "Gotta preserve them, Byeol, or otherwise you'll never overcome your fears."
"I'm not really sure we'll be overcoming any fears today," you mutter in response.
He takes great offence to this. Tells you to 'stop being a negative Nancy', and that 'you'll never overcome your fears with an attitude like that'. You pinch him through his shirt. He recoils away from you, finally giving you a little room to breathe.
And then he calls you a goblin.
"That's rich," you snort, peering into your bag once again to get your wallet, shooing his hands away as he brings out his own wallet from his shorts pocket. "Nah, this is on me. My fear. I'll pay."
There's an attempt from him to protest, but you just tell the cashier you're paying for two, and there's very little he can do about it. He feels bad. This is, after all, his idea. He gave you no wiggle room. You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him.
A bathroom? Maybe.
But not here.
"Absolutely not," you had exclaimed yesterday afternoon after reading the bird. Jeongguk couldn't stop laughing. "Stop! You'll give me a complex."
He hadn't meant to find it so funny - he was just taken by surprise. It's a reflex.
"No, no," he cooed. "It's cute. Really sweet, actually. Should have told me last night. Could have actually done something about it."
It was at that point that you flicked him on the forehead. Told him to go touch some grass. Get his head out of his ass.
And then, finally, you told him, "You're never showering with me."
In typical Jeongguk fashion, he'd just smirked. Found your defensiveness funny. "And nor is anyone else, apparently."
The bird resting on Jeongguk's stomach was laying flat, open on your words:
SHOWER WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
He thinks it's the all caps that cracked him up so much. So aggressive. So cute. A bit like you.
Showers had been one of your favourite forms of intimacy during past relationships. You'd even found it fun with casual hookups.
But now?
Feels forbidden. Tarnished. Dirty.
It's almost as if someone else running their hands over your skin beneath the water will rid you of the stain that Seokjin left - and if you're not his, whose are you?
It's stupid because you don't belong to anyone but yourself. You'd spent months resenting the removal of your identity, but now that you have the chance to reclaim it, you're still letting his mark remain.
You had told Jeongguk later that afternoon - with absolute certainty - that he'd never be facing that fear with you, only for him to say, "it doesn't have to be that big of a deal. I'll prove it to you."
And now he's trying to do exactly that.
He leads as you follow and make your way into the park. It's been a fair few years since your last visit, but it always looks the same; paint work a little tatty, white watermarks tarnishing pipes, and slightly dated equipment available for hire. In fact, you think the inflatables sitting pretty and ready for renting might be the same ones you used as a child on family trips.
"Still don't understand how on earth this is supposed to help me with my fear of intimacy," you speak softly once Jeongguk is done telling you about the tallest waterslide in the world. It's in Brazil, and he insists that he doesn't understand why on earth they called it Kilimanjaro when it's not even remotely close in height nor geographical location.
You tell him he's pedantic and he smiles as if you've just given him a gold star.
"It's helping because we're making it less scary," Jeongguk states all very plainly. Seems simple to him. His logical mind leaps from A to B, while yours is still spiralling round and round like a hula-hoop. "What do you do in the shower?"
"When I'm with someone else?" You raise a brow. "Not sure I want to say it out loud in a kid's waterpark."
"Oh, ew, no, not that part. I mean the basics," he sighs, before choosing just to answer for you. "You get wet. That's the first hurdle."
"Gguk, that's barely even the first meter," you counter. "And after that? There's still a billion hurdles left to jump."
"Well, you have to start somewhere, don't you?" He nudges his shoulder against yours, before spotting the concessions store up ahead. "See. Told you you'd be able to buy a shirt. Here."
He hands you his wallet, only for you to pass it right back.
"It's good, I'll get it."
"I dragged you here."
"And I'm the one who made that stupid bird," you laugh. "It's fine. Tell you what though, if they only have ugly shirts, you're gonna have to get one too. Can't be doing this alone."
"Watcha mean?"
"Well look at you," you shrug, as if it's plainly obvious. "You're in all black and - not that I agree with this, but - I'm sure some people will find you 'okay' looking. You know all the yummy mummies are gonna be swooning over you instead of looking after their kids."
"Swooning?" He grins with a small chortle. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Byeol?"
You gasp, and take a step away from him. "Are you saying I look like a mother?"
This, he decides rather quickly, is dangerous. You almost sound like you're flirting. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it, just that he knows he shouldn't indulge himself and yet-
"Maybe I'm into MILFs."
You've a remarkably good poker face. He can't tell if you're actually annoyed, until you look at him with a small smile. It's hidden by the sultry, tempestuous expression you're throwing his way, but definitely still there.
"So first I'm a mother, and now you wanna fuck me? Well, aren't you full of surprises?"
If there's one thing Jeongguk enjoys, it's a girl who knows how to twist words. Regretfully, it always gets him thinking about other ways they could twist their tongues. The thoughts are unsavoury. Sordid. Lewd.
But you're you.
You're off-limits, and he knows better than to play with fire. He needs to get you wet.
Just, like, not in that way.
"I'll put you under that fountain if you don't stop twisting my words," he asserts as you walk through the park. To your right is a pool, with bright slides twisting in all directions around it. Families play, and laughter prevails. It's nice.
To your left is a row of spouting fountains for kids to run through, water pitter-pattering against the warm concrete floor. They're tall enough that even Jeongguk could stand beneath them without issue. You always think they look like reverse umbrellas; water pouring where protection should be.
Puddles of water interrupt the walkway, but neither of you care all that much.
"Maybe if you got your head out your ass and stopped flirting-"
"Not flirting."
You scoff as sarcasm wraps itself around your words. "Yeah, and I'm a MILF."
He pauses. Stops walking. Laughs.
"Right," Jeongguk says. "That's it."
It's said in a tone so light and airy that you almost don't realise he's wrapping his arms around you with a grip tight enough to crack a rib. Your playful shrieks are ignored by other park visitors, chalked up to you being a pair of young lovers enjoying the frivolity of a waterpark together.
"I'm in white!" is your final cry before he pulls you under the cascade of a fountain with him.
The worst part of it, you think, is how goddamn happy he sounds, laughing at your misery.
"And I told you to stop twisting my words, Byeol," he says like the bastard he is, while you struggle against him again. Finally releasing you, he keeps a clasp on your wrists to prevent you from straying. "You made your choice."
"I made no such thing," you wail, but the stream of water has you spluttering - and then you're laughing.
Laughing just like he is; like how you imagine Galileo would have laughed when he first pointed his telescope skyward, and saw the rings of Saturn. It's unadulterated. Blissful. Pure.
Jeongguk loosens his grip on your wrists. He rests his elbows on your shoulders, using his hands to create a barrier between the stream of water and your eyes. There's glitter on your cheeks, now, forced to part way with your eyes thanks to the water pressure, and Jeongguk finds himself grinning at how you manage to look like a party even in the middle of the day.
Perhaps he's a lot more like Galileo than you first thought. Maybe he's laughing because he's looking at the stars, too.
Water barrels down on the pair of you, soaking your hair, your clothes, your skin. It's heavy, the pressure of the fountain far heavier than a shower, but you suppose the outcome is the same.
You don't want to look at Jeongguk with anything but moderate vexation, and yet there's a fond smile tugging at your lips.
Strands of wet hair stick to his face, droplets catching on his lashes and falling down his cheeks. He shakes like a dog caught out in the rain, only to continue getting drenched because he doesn't move from the fountains trajectory. It'd be so easy for him to just manoeuvre himself out of the fountain's direct line and hold you in place, but he chooses to be caught up in it, too. Chooses to be with you. Experience with you.
You'd done his bird together. Only fair for him to do yours with you.
"You still scared, Byeol?" Jeongguk asks, voice quiet beneath the water pummeling down on you both, and yet it has your attention loud and clear.
You want to banter back, say something that will get tripping on his words just like you seem to be - but the rope tied around your ankles seems to be around your tongue, too. Instead, you just shake your head.
"See," he smiles, now. Pulls a hand away from your forehead to wipe at his. Puts it back. "Are showers really that scary?"
And then you do laugh. "It's not a shower. You know it isn't even close."
His face scrunches, water catching in all of his little ridges.
He'll admit the water is annoying. Keeps having to close his eyes. It's bothersome, and it's not like he even cares for boundaries anymore at this point, so-
Fuck it.
His pinkies are against your forehead, index fingers outward. He lowers his head, mirroring you. Rests his forehead against his index fingers. Swears. Can finally fucking see.
And now that he can?
He's looking at you.
With his head angled to such a degree that your chins couldn't be further apart, you still manage to fool yourself to believe that your lashes could brush.
"It's as close as we'll get to one," he counters. "You are showering with another person."
"I'm under a stream of water with another person."
"And how is that any different to showering with someone?"
He isn't stupid. He knows the answer. Knows that you're pedantic enough to go into all the clauses and stipulations that would ever stop this from being classed as a shower - and so he doesn't let you.
Instead, he pulls away, grabbing your wrist as he does so. Leads you further into the park with a smile so big you're surprised he doesn't dislocate his jaw.
"That's the hard part done," he assures you. "You've had a shower with someone. Say thank you."
There's an acute awareness between you both that he's not helped you to overcome your fear in the slightest - but he does have you laughing as you walk through the park, absolutely sodden, without a single care in the world. You're not even bothered by the fact your black bra is visible through the soaked fabric of your shirt.
See, Jeongguk's gotten you relaxed in a situation when you know you'd typically be frantic. He's taking the pressure off. Got you giggling. Got you facing a fear, even if it's not exactly how he set out to do so, nor the fear in question.
In his defence, he really had thought his contrived little plan would count. He'd have never insisted on actually taking a shower with you. He understands why you consider them so intimate. He does, too. Something about the vulnerability really gets him. It's not even the sex that inevitably comes with one that makes him weak at the knees.
He thinks of the girl who folded paper butterflies for him, and how he'd shampoo her hair, chest pressed to her back, and the fact it was in the confines of his bathroom that he realised he was in love with her.
So, Jeongguk gets it. It's why he wouldn't even consider anything but his dumb little waterpark shower as a remedy of your insecurities. He hopes a lesson is learned even if a fear isn't overcome: you can let down your guard without giving up all of you.
What it comes down to, you think, is that Jeongguk isn't a taker. He's not a giver, either, really - but when your walls start to crack and crumble, he doesn't intrude. Stands at a safe distance. Offer you back your bricks. Most men you knew would see a weakness in your defences and claim what's yours as their own.
He's not always been this way. Used to have a 'what's yours is mine' understanding of his relationships, too.
His butterfly girl had taught him that no, just because he was given temporary access to something didn't mean it was his. He'd learnt the hard way after he'd always swapped his heart with hers, not realising she'd ever want it back.
And so while Jeongguk will never fully understand whatever you went through - not unless you choose to share it with him - he can empathise. Treat you how he wished someone would have treated him while he was still healing.
As the clouds migrate across the sky, fluffy white shapes occasionally hiding the careful watch of the sun, the day rolls into stupid competitions and races down the tallest slides in the park. The reason you'd ended up here doesn't seem to matter.
Jeongguk races you to the top of the slides again, and again, and again, just to try and beat you down them. He never wins.
Not until you hold back by just a millisecond.
It's just enough to give him a slight edge, and have him roaring in victory - "ha! suck it! loser!" - as he slaps at the water, a smile larger than Hang Sƥn Đoòng eclipsing any desire you had to win. You'll let him have this one. Let him have one victory.
The haze of late-afternoon sun grazes down on the pair of you, while you lounge by the 'adults-only' pool area. A lot of families have gone home already, but sometimes it's nice to be away from the shrieks of kids messing about in the water.
You're not exactly the maternal type. In fact, Jeongguk's the one who's been pointing out how cute the kids are in their little armbands and sprout hairstyles. He's not wrong. They're incredibly adorable - you're just not that naturally inclined to go 'awww'.
It's all swings and roundabouts, though. Getting away from kids meant being surrounded by, well, some less wholesome auras.
Jeongguk thinks he notices it first; the unwelcome gaze of a middle-aged man. He's felt it for a little while. Upwards of ten minutes. Thinks you're none the wiser. Tries to figure out what's so fucking interesting. Stares him out a little bit - but is ignored.
See, the man - who is probably old enough to be your father - isn't looking at Jeongguk at all. Too busy staring at you, and that shirt of yours which is still yet to dry out. You're on your back, sunning yourself, clothes sodden and sticking to your skin.
Jeongguk thinks you look no different to anyone else in the park. It's typical to wear regular clothes in places like these. Would be more shocking if you were in a bikini. And so while yes, he has noticed the fact your bra is dark, he couldn't tell you the colour because he's been trying not to look. Actively avoiding it, actually.
Annoyance isn't something that Jeongguk's ever been able to hide well.
As he sucks in a little bit of air between his teeth and mutters a small curse to himself, you glance over.
"Hmm?" you ask.
It's not like you don't know the man's staring. You had warned Jeongguk about your attire earlier. Was always gonna happen. He just hadn't realised that this was the reason why you'd been so insistent about the fact he was an asshole for not giving you a dress code.
Realistically, you could have bought a second shirt - but the pair of you got distracted. Didn't care so much when you were laughing and joking about how you both look like rats with your hair all wet.
"Here," he says, tugging on his shirt at the nape of his neck. There's resistance, the weight of the water dragging against his skin, but he pays it no mind as he pulls the shirt over his head. You're still laying down on your back, and turn onto your front with a small grin.
"Y'know if I really was all that bothered, I'd just do this," you say, talking about your change in position. It's not that you want the man to stare - you just know he will regardless. Know that your shorts have ridden up a little, and so he's getting a whole new type of show.
Jeongguk doesn't laugh. Smiles, but doesn't let it reach his eyes. Leans over and drapes the fabric of his shirt over the top of your legs. Over your ass. "You'll burn."
"I'm wearing suncream," you purr, knowing that this has nothing to do with keeping your skin safe.
And so Jeongguk just shrugs. Considers staying silent. Chooses not to.
"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he almost growls beneath his breath, feigning indifference through his body language. "But I don't."
"You saying you can't help yourself?" You tease, to which he just rolls his eyes and lays back down.
"I can help myself perfectly well," he says, tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek. "Just didn't finish my sentence."
"Oh?" you chirp with great curiosity.
There's a boldness to the way you're engaging in conversation with him. Makes you realise that Jeongguk is just the same as any other boy. He can see you as a sexual object, apparently. Just chooses not to. It's all very interesting.
"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he repeats, crossing his arms over his torso, a defensiveness to his posture, even when he's flat on his back. "But I don't want him to."
Though his eyes remain closed, Jeongguk can hear you move to sit on your knees.
Your back is to the sleazebag, Jeongguk shirt bunching by your heels. You pull it around and bundle it in your lap, mouth resting open in a slight stare of shock.
Unspoken words beg for him to look at you.
But he doesn't. Keeps his eyes firmly shut. Grins. Just says, "Lie back down, Byeol."
The worst part is that you want to. You really do. When his voice is that low, the look on his face that cocky, you want to fold like a sheet of fucking origami paper. Have him bending you about like one of those damn birds.
But then you take a second to think, and realise you're no better than that guy who is still staring at you so intensely you're surprised he doesn't burst a blood vessel. Makes you feel bad. Guilty.
So instead you toss Jeongguk his shirt back and, as you stand, say, "I've a fear of intimacy, Jeongguk. No fear in telling men to fuck off."
He's not surprised by your response. Quite amused by it. Sits up on his elbows. Watches with curiosity as you walk away from him - and then is stunned to see you beeline for the man.
It's the kind of thing he'd see in a movie, background characters slowing to a stop, time ceasing to move except for the leading lady.
And then you're pointing. Accusing. Jeongguk's not sure of what - he can't hear you from this far away - but he knows it isn't nice. Watches the blood drain from the man's face. He's ghostly. And then it all returns, red and raw, with such a vengeance he's surprised blood doesn't start leaking from his nose.
When you turn on your heel, Jeongguk observes with morbid novelty at the scene unfolding; the intense shame on the man's face and the pure brilliance on yours.
"Men," you sigh, as you sit back down next to him. Mirroring his position, you're up on your elbows until you casually let yourself fall back into your original position. "Sorry, where were we? You told me to lie down? Done."
Jeongguk doesn't say anything. Just grins. Collapses back down, too. Doesn't tell you to cover up. Knows better.
Doesn't shut up about it for the rest of the day, though.
Relays the story to you as if you weren't there - weren't central to it - with so much animation that you think he might turn into a cartoon on the subway home.
He's still talking about it between the part where he invites you back for dinner - "Jimin's gonna be in but it's cool. We haven't eaten all day, you must be starving." - and the part where he stands by your door, taking a whole twenty minutes to say goodbye.
You've declined the offer. Told him it'd be a bit weird seeing Jimin. Wouldn't know how to explain it. Jeongguk just says "of course, yeah, you're right. Didn't even think of that. My bad."
There's a little silence afterwards. You know why. It's rejection. Not romantic, nor for anything serious, but it's still the same difference. He'd spent the day trying to help you break down walls only for you to put your bricks on top of his.
It's as he's heading down your stairs (after his fifteenth and final 'bye') that you realise how rude you've been. Just 'cause you wouldn't feel entirely welcome at his doesn't mean he's not welcome at yours.
"Hey, wait a sec! Danbi's home, but do you wanna eat here?" You chance. "We don't have much in, but I can order or we can-"
"My God, I thought you'd never ask," he grins immediately turning on his heel and back towards you. "So hungry I might die."
"You won't."
"I could."
The pair of you bicker as you enter your apartment, Danbi glancing up from the sofa. She looks at you, then looks at Jeongguk, and takes a second to place his face. Definitely knows it - and then it clicks.
She considers asking why the fuck your favourite barman is following you in. He's known within the confines of your apartment as the Barman That Smiles (more commonly referred to as BTS boy), Jeongguk's name a secret just for you to know. Danbi doesn't realise all of those nights you waste are the bar are wasted on him, nor does she realise he's the reason you snuck off the other night.
What she does wonder, however, is if this is all part of your master-get-revenge-on-Seokjin-plan.
Instead of voicing any of these queries, she settles on "what are we having for dinner?"
You shrug. "Ask Jeongguk. He's paying."
He raises a brow as if to question your assertion - only for him to cough up the bill for the pizza delivery that feeds the three of you through a Deadpool rewatch.
When he leaves, Danbi tells him he has to come back next week for Deadpool 2. You grin as you walk him out.
"She just wants you to pay for more food," you tell and he nods. Says he knows.
But then he calls back over to Danbi, "See you next week."
She does a little cheer, and it's all very sweet. They get on well. His humour is welcome in your apartment, and so is his presence. Danbi also hopes it means she'll get more free drinks next time she's at the club.
"She'll play you like a damn fiddle if you let her," you warn just out of her earshot.
"Good," he grins. "We can double date with you and Jimin."
You tell him to fuck off - but also insist that he lets you know when he gets home. The way you care about him is so casual that it feels as if it's been this way for years.
As he heads on home, Jeongguk kind of hopes it will be. Hopes it's the kind of friendship that stands the test of time. Worries that he shouldn't take the flirting too far - but then he's distracted by the little fleck of glitter on the top of his hand. His thoughts are lost, a smile unwinding on his lips as he strolls back to his place.
The skies are void of stars tonight, and yet, for the first time in months, Jeongguk's eyes are full of them.
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