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devildomdoofus · 4 years ago

Text

Lemon Dreams: Part 2

[NSFW]

Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Part 1:

MINORS

DO NOT INTERACT

DO NOT PROCEED

‼️WARNINGS‼️

NSFW, wet dreams, mature themes, implied intercourse, swearing, UP TO CHAPTER 16 SPOILERS

Author’s Note:

You already know what I’m about to say 😅 I am very sorry for the delay. Work’s a doozy and I get stressed easy but.. I hope these are worth the wait!! Please enjoy ❤️

- DevildomDoofus

💖Asmodeus:

This day was rather an exhausting one for Asmodeus. Not enough people groveled at his feet as they normally did, he had a multitude of wardrobe malfunctions, and he just couldn’t quite get his hair to stay in place after he struggled for hours, earlier that morning, to get it just the way he imagined. On top of all of that, you were so busy keeping his brothers out of your hair that you couldn’t quite make enough room in your schedule for him. No, he didn’t blame you in the least, it was just frustrating because, on days like this, you were his sanctuary. You meant the world and more to him and whenever he was feeling out of it, you were right there to remind him just how amazing he really was. However, today.... he was meant to take care of himself.

No matter! He had a backup ‘chin up, Asmo’ kit waiting for him when he returned to the House of Lamentation and he wasn’t about to let anyone, or anything, get in the way. Once inside the house, he made a beeline for his room, put a Do Not Disturb sign on his door, and shut himself away with a click of the lock to ensure that he was certainly NOT going to be disturbed. He stripped himself all the way down to bare skin, dipped into his bathroom, and turned the knobs of his bathtub to the temperature that he enjoyed most. Then, he turned the radio to one of his favorite music stations, dimmed the lights, and lit a handful of scented candles before he finally slid down into the tub and sank low enough so that the bubbles tickled his nose. His eyelids felt too heavy to hold up any longer so he let them close as he let out a breath that he felt as if he had carried it all day. The heated water eroded the tension in his muscles and the sound of bubbles popping and music playing in the distance kept his mind from drifting too far down into a spiral. A waft of his favorite scented candle crept up to his nose and from its serene aroma, as well as the effects of the other combined therapeutic items, he was finally able to shrug away all remaining traces of the stress in his mind and body.

After his much needed bath and his before-bed beauty ritual, Asmo slips between the satin sheets of his bed and before too long, drifts peacefully into slumber.

As the Avatar of Lust, his dreams were no different than his life living with his sin; the adoring crowds, the self-idolization, manipulation, and, it goes without saying, the sex. Not much changes in the dreamworld when you’re practically living it in your waking world. However, this particular dream was unlike any he’s ever had before, and it was all because of you.

In this dream, he was a prince renowned for his looks, for his charms, and, of course, for his riches. But he had grown apart from that lifestyle and such a reputation was a tiresome thing, as it made it rather difficult in finding a proper romance partner that wasn’t after him for his looks or money. He wanted someone that loved and wanted him for who he was deep down. That is why he snuck away to a masquerade ball in disguise, in hopes of finding said partner. He spent a majority of the night talking with some people, dancing with others, and trying his damndest to find his future spouse but to no avail. He began to give up hope and with such a loss comes his indulgence of his sin, in which he finds the nearest and worthiest soul to charm, slip them away from prying eyes, and do whatever each of them pleased.

That is, until one peculiar stranger approached him, gently extended their hand, and asked him without words for a dance. He tilted his head in question, a bit hesitant, as so few ever dared to approach him first. They were either far too intimidated or in awe of him that they waited until he approached them.

The stranger smiled beneath the mask, their eyes giving it away, and they dipped their torso low in a respectful bow, so that they may communicate that they truly mean no harm, while keeping their hand extended in invitation. Asmodeus’ lips give way to a pleased smile and he gingerly takes the stranger’s hand as they lead the way to the dance floor. For hours upon hours, song after beautiful song, they whirled and spun in perfect unison as the crowd surrounding them gave way to their joyous dances. The chemistry was unmatched and Asmodeus was overjoyed, as he felt he had finally found his one, true partner. He simply had to know who they were.

Before the next song could play, he took their hand and lead them into an empty hallway where they may share their identities without nosey onlookers. Once out of sight, he brought his fingers up to the mask that concealed the strangers face and looked into their eyes in question, hoping that they permit him to do away with it. The stranger nods and Asmo proceeds, pulling the mask ever so slowly from their face and suddenly, Asmo’s mouth flies open with a gasp and he drops the mask to the floor. It was you.

“MC...?!” He pries his own mask away and looks at you in the same way an artist looks at their own masterpiece after years of hard work. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around you, tightly. You return the embrace, wrapping your arms around him and smiling from ear to ear. He parts from you only to cup your face in his hands and in a whisper he says, “I’ve searched for you for so long.” You smile warmly at him with a twinkle in your eye, replying “I’ve been looking for you too,” and he can longer restrain himself. He crashes his lips flush against yours in a desperate and hungry kiss. He‘s reluctant to let either of you breathe as he‘s pressing himself against you further, closing the distance between your back and the nearest wall. “I’ve searched for you,” he pants between kisses, “for so damn long.” He moves down to your neck, letting his teeth graze the skin before he sinks them down and licks the bite. The noises that you emitted due to his actions made his knees weak. With his lips close to your ear, he practically whines, “Please, may I have you?” You grab him by the collar, tug him back to look you in the eyes and with a hunger of your very own, you commanded, “Take me, Asmodeus. I am yours.”

He sweeps you off of your feet and into his cradling arms, carrying you to the nearest empty room to give you everything that you desired. With the door shut and locked behind you, he was back onto your lips in a matter of seconds, only this time, he was much more patient. He had finally found you, someone he was going to love far greater than he loved himself, and here you were in all of your unbridled glory, asking for him and him alone. Not for his money, not for his looks nor reputation... you wanted him for who he was and he could feel that as he danced with you, in the way that you kissed him, and would soon feel as your bodies became one. And by Diavolo, he was going to take his sweet time getting there. He paced himself, slowly stripping you of all of your clothing as well as all of his own, and kissed every inch of skin he uncovered of yours, starting from your neck and all the way down to the tops of your feet. He praised you as he went, not letting a moment go by without him practically singing your name and the glory that came with it. He snaked his way back up your body and, for the rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning, made love to you in the most beautiful ways, eliciting your sweet melodies of pleasure that he shan’t ever forget for as long as he lives.

Just as he was beginning to whisk you away to his very own castle to marry you, he wakes up. He whips his head around and you were nowhere to be seen, nor was he taking you to his castle to wed you. It was simply him alone in his room. He huffs out of frustration that it was all just a dream... but then he smiles widely with a giggle, bringing a pillow up to cover his reddening cheeks because the dream was unlike anything he’s ever dreamt before, or ever experienced in real life for that matter. And that experience was love. Not lust, romanticization, idolization, or a sorcerer looking for a pact. It was pure love. He simply had to tell you about this dream. He texts you to “come over right away! It’s an emergency! Be sure to come alone. ❤️”

Once you’re there, he sets the both of you down onto his bed, where he usually talked things over with you, snuggles up close to you and relays everything that happened in the dream... EVERYTHING. He didn’t leave out a single detail. To say that your cheeks could melt steel by the end of his storytelling, was an understatement. For the next few days, Asmodeus was like a barnacle on a boat. He never left your side and couldn’t stand being away from you for too long. He also was a little more protective of you against his brothers or anyone else that wanted your attention. He wasn’t having it. For now and maybe perhaps forever, you were Asmo’s, like the masquerade partner you were in his dreams.

❤️Beelzebub:

As a demon, and living in the Devildom, you just don’t really get to have many ‘good’ days considering the whole ‘sin’ thing and fighting in The Great War and then falling because of it and all that jazz. However, today was an exception for dear Beelzebub. He had eaten his favorite meals all day, was lucky enough to spend an exceptional amount of time with you and Belphegor throughout the day, won a championship game of Fangol (devildom football) against the toughest opposing team, and finally had enough remaining energy to celebrate his big win with a surprise house party involving one of his absolute, all-time favorite meals catered by you and Barbatos... human world cheeseburgers. And it wasn’t even his birthday! He’d have to mention this to his brothers to coerce them into doing some like this for when his special day came around but.. ya know... bigger. Oh! And don’t forget Belphegor’s favorite foods too.

The party lasted for hours on end as each brother spent an extended period of time congratulating him on his victory in between moments of him shoveling the food into his mouth, singing his praises for every move and tactic he used in the game that kept them at the edge of their seats, and hyping him up for the next game to follow in which they were confident in him bringing them another victory. Eventually, everyone’s batteries especially Lucifer’s had run out and the time for celebration had come to a close.

Lucifer sent the elder brothers and yourself to your rooms as he stayed behind to help Barbatos clean, as well as monitor Beelzebub while he finished scarfing down the last scraps of food and downing the final glasses of Demonus. “You played well today, Beelzebub,” Lucifer praised, as he cleared away the empty dishes surrounding Beel and the slumbering twin that rested on his shoulder. “I’m quite proud of you.” He paused for breath. “Then again,” he quipped, “I expected no less from you.” Beelzebub tried his best to flash his dimpled smile with his cheeks puffy with food before swallowing it whole, followed by an audible gulp, and chuckled. “Thank you, Lucifer. That means a lot to me.” Lucifer returned the smile, shifted some dishes from one hand to another in order to use the free one to ruffle a bit of Beel’s hair before he stepped away. By now, Belphegor shifted against his brother and mumbled incoherently. Fortunately, Beelzebub spoke Sloth and knew it was finally time to call it a day and take his twin to bed. He grabbed a final cheeseburger and stuffed it between his teeth, squatted low enough to allow Belphegor to climb sluggishly onto his back like a koala, and started towards their room with a light skip in his step. “What a day,” he thought to himself on repeat, all while tucking his brother in and getting ready for bed himself. As he turned the lights out and finally laid down, he gazed up at the ceiling with a dimpled grin on his face and let his thoughts venture towards you before finally closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. Of course, they always did ever since you held his hand to help him fall asleep way back when. And since you couldn’t always be there every single night to help him fall asleep again, he had to think of you as an alternative.

When it comes to his resting, unconscious mind, Beelzebub has four different reoccurring dreams.

He’s living an absolute carefree life with his entire family (including his late sister), not bound by sin or Diavolo, and experiencing paradise in its truest form with the ones he loves

It’s an everlasting, all-you-can-eat, buffet, catered by Barbatos, Luke, and you (with your human world cheeseburgers)

He’s reliving the terror of having to watch his sister get struck down and die. Sometimes he loses Belphegor and/or you too, and, if he’s really unlucky that night, he loses absolutely everyone he’s closest to. His sister, his brothers, you, Luke, Simeon...

Some fortunate or unfortunate combination of any of the above.

However, Lady Fortune continued to smile upon dear, sweet Beelzebub and tonight, he was going to experience a dream unlike any he’s had before.

It commenced with you and him taking a trip to the human world so that you could show him a few of your favorite eateries, restaurants, cafes, bakeries, and the like. Of course, Belphegor came along and was lingering close by, window shopping at furniture stores as they usually had the best products for maximum comfort. You first took them to a coffee shop and showed them all the delicious things they could buy. It took some major convincing (and elbow grease and the help of a twin demon) to pull Beelzebub away from the glass, encasing the baked goods, to keep him from drooling on it. Next, you ventured to a nearby ‘ma-and-pa’ bakery where the goods were stocked to the edge of the shelves with various handmade loafs, muffins, cupcakes and cakes, cookies, croissants. You name it, you smell it, and it was there. With stars in his eyes and zero restraint, Beelzebub slapped his wallet onto the counter and pleaded for as much of their inventory as the shop owner allowed. You two left the bakery with both arms carrying bags up to your elbows and giant grins on your faces. After breezing by a number of other food joints, you finally came to the crowning moment that you’ve been dying to show Beelzebub. The local candy shop. His eyes grew to the size of the sun and his mouth swung open as he gawked at the wonderland of hypnotizing colors and towering walls covered in sweets just beyond the window. Belphegor sighed, shook his head with a smirk and mumbled, “I’ll be out here if you need me.” He took the bags you two were carrying and sat on a nearby bench. Seeing Beelzebub unable to contain his excitement, you nodded to Belphie, took a firm hold of Beel’s hand with a big grin, and led him in.

You started off by showing him the taffy puller where the employees kept watch over the machine as it looped the taffy over and under. Then, you brought him over to the cotton candy machine as an employee was twirling the little ball of fluff into an adorable bunny. Finally, you brought him to the wall of candy where you could grab a bag of whichever size you prefered and stuff it to the brim with goodies. Of course, you handed him a couple of the largest bags they had available and off he went in search of a multitude of sweets. You, yourself grabbed a medium sized bag. When he returned to you, his bags were bloated and almost spilling out over the top but Beel simply couldn’t help himself. They all seemed so delicious. What you didn’t know is that he had a little surprise for you whenever you two left the shop.

Once the three of you returned to the House of Lamentation, Belphegor lazily saluted and headed off to the attic, whereas you and Beelzebub had some major snacking to do.

Sitting in the floor of his room, you took your time sharing sweets amongst each other and complimenting their sugary goodness... until he sealed his bags up, slid them away, and scooted closer to you. You eyed him in curiosity, unsure of his wellbeing considering he stopped eating so suddenly. “MC, I wanted to thank you for today and wanted you to know how much it meant to me...” He inches closer, knees touching yours. “...so, I got you something.” He held up a couple of boxes of Pocky, each in a different flavor. “Pick one.” You tapped on the box with your favorite flavor, and he set aside the remaining ones. Pulling out one of the sticks, he hovers the tip of it just outside the immediate reach of your lips. “Say ahh,” he requested, demonstrating by opening his own mouth. Your lips parted with an ‘ahh’ and he tucks one end of the Pocky stick between his teeth and placed the other end in your mouth. As your cheeks heat up and you look back and forth between his eyes in question, you spot a smirk making its way to his face and he takes a swift bite of the Pocky to keep you focused on him rather than letting go and backing away. You attempt to mirror his act by taking a trembling nibble of the Pocky, inching yourself closer to him, to his lips. He takes a bigger bite than before, rapidly closing the distance between you two. Before long, you’re but a mere half an inch apart and you shut your eyes as you consider just letting go before things could go any further. With the Pocky still between his teeth, he chuckles lowly and “look at me,” he demands. As your eyes open to meet his, he smirks and bites off the last bit of Pocky, lifts a hand up and cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a deep, flavorful kiss. His tongue slithers past your lips and chases after the taste of the Pocky that still lingered in your mouth. Meanwhile, he’s lowering you down onto your back and shifts in a way to keep you pinned beneath him. Your whimpers and moans keep stirring the flames inside of him, engulfing every other thought that isn’t you and this newfound hunger for something oh so sweet. He slinks down your body and strips you of your clothes as he goes, leaving little bruises and bite marks in the bits of flesh he uncovers. “I could just swallow you whole...” He reaches a hand down between your legs, swipes a bit of yourself onto his fingertips and drags his tongue along it, savoring the taste of you. “Fuck MC...”

Before he could do as he very much pleased, the intense growl of his empty stomach startled him awake. He is an absolute blushing MESS and the sheets of his bed have somehow become uncomfortable for his lower half. He looks over at his brother, hoping that he’s still asleep. Thankfully, the sound of a gentle snore confirmed it and Beelzebub tiptoed into the bathroom to cool down.

The following weeks, Beelzebub had a hard time avoiding you, bearing in mind that you were a big eater similar to him, and like him, wherever there was food or snacks, you were there too. It’s one of the reasons he used to feel so comfortable around you. However, the very reason for one of his comforts was the same reason it was harder in more ways than one for him to keep his cool around you because he couldn’t quite that sinfully amazing dream out of his head. You unknowingly made things more difficult whenever you offered him a handful of candy as his stomach growled around you. It brought that cherry red blush back to his entire face and he would make an excuse to go back to his room... and you could never figure out why. Was it the flavor? The gesture itself? Had you done something to make him uncomfortable? You got around to asking Belphegor and with a shrug of his shoulders, he replied “maybe he had a dream where he ate candy off of your body?” Your cheeks heated up at the thought and you tried to laugh it off, dismissing the idea. Still... just the thought of it kept you up many, many nights. If only such a thing would come true...

💜Belphegor:

Lucifer was NOT giving him a break. How could he expect The Avatar of Sloth to handle so many responsibilities that go against his very nature? Like waking up in general to go to school, staying awake during classes, completing assignments, kitchen duty, attending whatever event Diavolo was hosting simply because Lucifer said so... I mean, it was all TOO much. It was the same situation as if one were to ask Beelzebub to stop eating, or Satan to stop reading, or any of the other brothers to just toss their sins and means of survival into the trash and pretend they don’t have them, all for some goofy prince who decided it was ‘perfectly fine’ to bring different realm dwellers down into the devildom to be buddy-buddy, like there wasn’t a huge, gaping scar diving them all in the first place. Then again... two of them aren’t all that bad. Simeon is an old ‘friend of the family’ and MC... Well? MC is Lilith MC. And they were the warm light at the end of this bleak, never ending tunnel. The thin shred of hope in the world. And he was going to show them how much they meant to him in the best way that he knew how, while also giving Lucifer a headache in the process.

Belphegor plops down beside you at the large desk you two shared before the class could start. He glances around, noticing that the assigned teacher hadn’t shown up yet nor were any of the other classmates, and it was the perfect time to put his plan into action. He hooks his foot around one of the legs of your chairs and slides you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear without much effort. “Let’s ditch this shit hole.” You could feel the smirk against the lobe of your ear and the heat from his breath sent a shiver up your spine. With a heavy sigh, you glared at him and could tell from the twinkle in his caverns of amethyst that it was going to be an uphill battle to change his mind. “C’mon, goody two shoes. We won’t be gone long.” A blatant lie. “Belphegor, you know as well as I do that I can’t do that.” You were trying your best to stand firm, undeterred by his attempts at coercing you in hopes that his laziness would make its grand appearance and he’d give up. But not this time. This time, Belphegor had something he wanted to do for you and he wasn’t about to give up. “MC...,” he places a warm hand on your upper thigh, giving it a light squeeze as he leans in to the skin just below your ear with his lips grazing it, “what’s the matter? Afraid Lucifer will find out and tear you a new one?” He shifted his free hand to the bottom of your chair and jerks it around for your body to face his direction, his lips now very close to your own. He brings the hand from the chair up to your face and holds your chin snug between his index and thumb. Your face heats up enough that it could melt lava and your body tenses. You hear him chuckle lowly to himself, amused by how worked up you become from his actions. “What if he’s too busy nagging me to pay any attention to you? Hm? Worst comes to worst, we can just knock it up to you being ignorant of my...,” he pauses, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip while stealing a glance at them, then looks back up to you, “advances... and he lets you off the hook? What do you say to that, MC?” Your mind was empty and his hands on your body were making it difficult to even comprehend his proposal. You could only think of the low rumble of his voice and whatever the hell it was saying was probably going to come back to bite you in the ass later. However, something about the way he said it, the way he teased you in a such a way to get what he wanted... it was hard saying no.

You slowly nod your head, and the hands that once pinned you in place from the gentlest of touches released you a little too quickly. “Great!” he chirped in victory, standing up from his chair and offering his hand to you. You shot him another glare and reluctantly took his hand with an annoyed squeeze to his fingers. “Not for long. Promise?” He giggled, scooping you up into his arms bridal style. “No. Now act sick until we get to the attic. Don’t want anyone thinking there’s nothing wrong with you and you don’t need a day off.” You crossed your arms in a huff, feeling humiliatingly duped. But the way he was holding you made you feel a little bit better about it all, taking into account how much he truly cared for you and teasing you was just his cheeky way of showing it, while also getting whatever it is he wanted. With that in mind, you curled into his embrace and fully indulged in his scheme, letting out a few test trial, fake coughs and thought of something that distressed you to get the tears going... mostly for the runny nose and puffy eye effect. “Careful. Too great a performance and they’ll be badgering Diavolo to revive you in exchange for their soul.” You reeled back with your outermost arm and sent a heavy blow to his chest. “Kidding,” he laughed. “...sort of.”

Once you two make it behind the door of the attic with a quick turn of the lock, he sets you back down onto your feet and stretches his arms out followed by an audible yawn. “You almost had Mammon shift into his demon form over you. Great job.” he quipped. “Yeah, and I hated every second of it. Can we just nap already? All the crying and fake coughing tuckered me out,” you retorted. “Sure, I’ll grab our favorite blankets,” he said, ducking away to go get them. “And I’ll get the pillows and stuffed creatures.”

You separated for a moment to gather the necessities, tossed them onto the bed, and then huddled up to snuggle close beneath the mountain of comfort. You hooked a leg over his waist and he slid one between your legs, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and he draped one of his over your side, nuzzling his face into your chest. “‘night MC... and thank you.” he mumbled. You placed a chaste kiss to the top of his head and replied, “You’re welcome, Belphie. Sleep tight.” “You too.” And with your bids of sweet sayonara, you drift off into a deep slumber, one that only clinging to The Avatar of Sloth could provide.

One of the perks of being said Avatar of Sloth is that he can visit other people’s dreams, especially if he shares a strong connection with the host. Whenever you shared naps together, he’d sneak his way into your dream world and your mind was like a shared secret hideout because it was the only place you two could be alone for extended periods of time. It was also your own wonderland because he could make ANYthing happen. You wanted to fly amongst the stars? He’d take your hands and lift you both into the atmosphere. You wanted to become your favorite human world creature? He’d snap his fingers and away you two would scurry off. Whatever it was that you wished, he could make it happen within your unconscious mind. However, this go around, Belphie had a wish of his very own and one that he hoped you would grant.

Once he snuck into your dreams, he soon spotted you laid back peacefully upon a cloud, reaching your hand up to rearrange the stars in different shapes and patterns. He noticed you had made one of him and yourself, holding hands. The smile that crept onto his face was impossible to hide, no matter how hard he tried to come off as cold or indifferent. “Always knew you had an artistic streak in you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sitting up and clutching your chest. “That was fast,” you breathed. “A warning would be nice.”

“Why? I wouldn’t be able to get such a cute reaction out of you if I did.” He floated towards you and hoisted himself up to his place beside you on the cloud. “How charming,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own, earning yourself a light chortle from him. “So,” you continued, “what shall we do this time? Sail some open seas as pirates? Rob a bank as outlaws in the old west? Or maybe-.” He places a hand over your mouth and shakes his head with his shoulders jumping in light laughter. “You seem to forget who I am, silly. I say we continue from where you left off before you were so rudely interrupted, hm?” He lays back onto the cloud and pulls you down next to him. Then, he takes your hand by the wrist and lifts it back up to the stars and starts moving your fingers in different motions so that you’re creating various works of art as you had been before. Getting the picture, you giggle and continue moving your fingers to shape the stars with him watching you in adoration... but he’d never tell you he did so. At some point you make a cow and point it out to him, laughing at your own joke referring to him in his demon form. “See? The resemblance is astounding!” He smirks, sitting up and looking down at you. “Oh yeah?” he asks, his tone hinting towards a playful threat. “Yeah!” you swat at him.

That was your mistake.

He grips your wrist with one hand and rolls over top of you, taking your other hand and pinning both of them above your head. He trails his free hand from your face, down your side and rests it on your hip, keeping you in place beneath him. Your skin twitches under his gentle touch and your face heats up again as your breath becomes hitched in your throat. “N-not fair...” you whined, squirming and trying your best to get the upper hand. He shakes his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Still forgetting who I am, MC?” He leans down towards your ear, his lips grazing the lobe. He practically growls in your ear, “I don’t play fair.” His gripping on you tightens as he moves lower to sink his teeth down onto your neck, earning him a soft whimper, one that spurs him on further. He snakes his hand from your hip beneath your shirt and runs it up and down your sides as he moves his lips to yours, giving them a bite every so often while occasionally slipping in his tongue. For the rest of the dream he is having his way with you and making your wildest fantasies become reality.. as much as your dreamworld allowed.

When he wakes, he opens his eyes to an empty spot beside him where you normally laid. He sits up, scratching his head and finding a new sense of uncomfortableness beneath the blankets, particularly at his groin. He searches the room for you but you’re nowhere in sight. “MC?” You pop your head around the corner of the bathroom doorway, weariness still in your eyes. “hmmm, yes Belphie?” As you switch off the light and shuffle back to the bed, slipping back underneath the blankets, he’s eyeing you in suspicion. “When did you wake up?” He asks, a gravel to his voice from such a deep slumber. “Well, as you were watching me paint with stars, my body woke me up because I had to use the bathroom...” you paused a moment in thought. “Did I miss something in dreamworld?” He ponders your statement for a second, unsure of how to respond. What it be so bad if he was just honest and told you what happened between him and.. what was supposed to be you? “Yes, you did.” he smirked, “You painted a cow and said it looked like me.” “Haha, classic MC,” you quipped about yourself.

The remainder of your time playing hooky, you were the big spoon and his excuse was that it was more comfortable this way now. Unfazed, you snuggled up behind him and snaked your arm under his to place your hand against his chest. Only this time, he couldn’t sleep. Him. Mr. Sandman. Couldn’t sleep. His mind was reeling, constantly going over the way your body moved against his, how your voice and sounds were like lewd melodies to his ears, and the way you made him feel on another level... it kept him and his lower half up for as long as you were snuggled close to him and had your hand so close to his heart. However, the memory of the dream would last for eternity.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome #mine #my posts #devildomdoofus #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor

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lunasphantom · 4 years ago

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it's not like this with other people-dream x gn!reader

HELLO!!!So this whole scene is basically from a book called "Normal People'' by Sally Rooney (there is also a TV adaptation). I became obsessed with this scene and started to play with it in my head. I literally opened this account just to share this don’t know if i’ll do another one but if you like it lmk!! it’s my first time writing anything like this hope y’all like it and all the credit for the scenes and like 2 lines goes to Sally Rooney I just interpreted some things ANYWAY ENJOY warnings: party atmosphere, risque??? mention of the word drugs and narcotic, my grammar angst to fluff

I could feel the hotness of Florida. The heat waves seemed inescapable just like my thoughts surrounding Dream. It was weird he was next to me, laughing with his friends, the furious key clicks were hard to ignore but I couldn’t reach him. Last night was...a rollercoaster. I felt everything, my heartbeat rising, I also very much felt his heartbeat rise as well even though his body left mine before I could pull him any closer.

Flashback

The music was extremely loud, you could smell the sweat,drugs, what someone ate before they came here. I was getting pushed and I lost Dream while trying to get a drink for us. I started to search for his eyes. He was very tall and finding a giant in a room isn’t that hard. However, I started to feel overwhelmed by the crowd and every step I took made me more anxious.

I looked for him. How can finding a giant be this hard? I was getting pushed around even more. Losing my balance at times. I held on to my drinks as if they were treasure. The trip I made to get them made them very valuable to me. It felt like I was drowning in the crowd until I met his eyes. I might not have 10/10 vision and the LED lights aren't helping my case either but I knew that they were his. Those green eyes that make me go down on my knees. The same eyes that provide me such security, can slow my heart rate down even from afar. I could feel myself calm down. He started to make his way towards me, fighting the dancing crowd.

He finally approached me, leaned into my ear “Thank you” he said. I don’t get him on the dance floor as much as I like to so I took this as an opportunity to dance with him. I took his hand as “You’re Mine” by Oscar and the Wolf started playing. I pulled him closer and felt his cologne. “What are you doing?'' he asked laughing. “You don’t dance with me as much. Just took the opportunity.” I said to him, smiling. The song gave him a little more confidence and before I could even comprehend the beat of the music he pulled me closer. My chest was beating against his, to not give him immediate satisfaction I turned around. Danicng with my back on him and tilting my head for him to have access to my neck. He saw this as an opportunity to tease me and have his lips ghost my neck. After more dancing with my back on him, I heard him grunt as he turned me around. It was back to how we found each other. I could feel his heartbeat and also mine. His green eyes staring me down.

When you know someone very well you find out their emotions are displayed deeply in their eyes. I could see that he wanted it but I could also see his battle. He lost the battle, backing away when I leaned forward to kiss him. I was stunned, felt betrayed. Even though I knew what was going on in his head, I felt defeated that he didn’t feel enough for another step. He looked at me one last time and left me.

I kept going back to what he made me feel like. My head was spinning from relieving that moment in my head over and over again. I got up from his bed,his laugh stopped abruptly when he saw me get up “One minute guys.” he said to the boys.

“Where are you going?” he asked, getting up from his desk. “Home.” I replied while gathering my things. “I can drive you home.” it almost sounded like he was begging for something. I smiled weakly at him “No, thanks I’ll walk” “It’s extremely hot Y/N” he countered. I wanted him to beg a little more so I could have more satisfaction but I didn’t understand what he wanted out of me staying so I didn’t continue the argument. “I’ll be fine, Dream plus you guys are having fun.” I argued pointing to his monitor. He sighed “No one is live or recording anything they’ll be fine.” It was my turn to sigh now “Ok well I’m leaving. Bye.” I said as I turned around to go to the door but he caught my arm, stopping me.

He looked at me with pleading eyes “I think it’s obvious that I don’t want you to leave.” After that I felt crushed, my voice was taken away from me, I let my head fall down and in a tiny voice I replied “I don't find it obvious what you want Dream.” I said as he tilted my chin up. That made my voice come back “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know if you want this.” I said feeling angry and pushing myself away from him. However I didn’t expect him to come forward. Almost pushing me against the wall. “I really wanted you to kiss me last night.” I said, raising my voice. “I wanted to kiss you too Y/N” he replied in a rather softer voice compared to mine. “Then why didn’t you Dream? You had the chance why didn’t you.” He looked down, proving that I was right. “I am sick of playing this game”

“What do you want?” I ask him “I want you. I want to tell you everything, I want to kiss you whenever I feel like it, I want you. I want these feelings to be solved cause I am getting lost in my own emotions because it’s not like this with other people. With other people it’s easy to figure it all out but with you. I-. That’s why I didn’t kiss you Y/N. I wanted to understand what I feel.” I took a step forward and reached for his hand, pulling him closer. “Well you are lucky cause I like you a lot more than other people.” I whispered to him and he giggled. He pushes me lightly against the wall and leans down. His lips feel soft against mine at first. As I assert my dominance his movements get harsher, fighting for his dominance. I give into him easily, he has a narcotic effect on me. And in that moment I feel every frustration go away as if he is kissing my vicious thoughts from last night from my head. We pull away to take a few deep breaths. He recollects his breath “I need to go to the boys” I nod “Please don’t leave.” I smile at him

“I’ll stay.”

#dream #dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamxd #mcyt #dream smp #dream smut #dream angst #dream x gn!reader #dream fluff #mcyt fandom #dream x fem!reader

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

“Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

A real doctor: Good.

I saw him type but typed my question faster.

Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

#trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #law one piece #law x reader #words of pleasure #WoP #physicalturian #ao3 #writer #writing #writings #fanfiction #N/SFW

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proxylynn · 3 years ago

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Your Boyfriend: Stalk-home Syndrome (Day 4)

Chapter #4: TUESDAY HEARTBREAK

[WARNING: Because the internet needs more romantic visual novels where you try to win the hearts of your senpai, right? WRONG! Your Boyfriend is a visual novel, yes. But this is anything but a love story. Your Boyfriend is a game where you deal with a man's unhealthy desire to have you, no matter who gets hurt. And he's not afraid to leave the body lying around for you to find either. Imagine a cat bringing you dead mice or birds to your doorstep, except he had brought the corpse of the person you talked to the other day. It's a choose your own adventure story, so be careful with how you react to those around you, especially towards him. This game deals with themes that might be disturbing for some audiences, such as murder, gore, drug use, kidnapping, non-consensual intimacy, strong language, and nudity.]

So what better thing to do than write fanfiction about it?! Enjoy my descent into madness. I regret nothing!! Sincerely with crazy sleepless love, your friendly neighborhood author, Lynn~♥

———————————————————————

[...You're not a very good listener are you, Lynsie? I told you not to alter anything more than you have already. Yet, here we are. You know what? I think this is an opportunity to teach you a lesson. This isn't a story you're meant to enjoy. Peter isn't supposed to be your love. It's time to remind you...This is my world, you are merely another player, and YOU are not in control.]

*beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep*

Ugh...Damn alarm...Why did I mount that thing across the room? Oh, right, so that my ass had to get up to turn it off.

My eyes struggle to open and refuse to do so. I try to roll over but can't make my body move. This is weird considering the more pills I take usually have this kind of effect...I only took two. Something doesn't feel right.

I'm stuck like this and the alarm is driving me crazy.

*click*

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!"

Lucy thankfully turns my alarm off. I hear her snicker moments later.

"Heh...Doing yoga in your sleep now?"

The hell are you talking about? Do not take pictures or I swear I will break your phone!

"I guess this is what happens when you spend most of the night fighting your pills. Honestly, what were you even doing to be so noisy?"

...The fuck? I went to bed just before midnight. What was she hearing? I mean, she was high, maybe it was all in her head.

"...Hey? You awake? You don't normally sleep this long into your alarm."

I feel her shake me.

"Lynn?"

I try to speak yet all that comes out is a dry garbled groan. Okay...Talking isn't an option.

"How many did you take?"

Can I move my...I can! I put two fingers out.

"Weird. Two shouldn't mess you up like this."

My point exactly! This ain't right!

She pushes me over and I feel her hand on my forehead.

"Jesus! You're burning up."

She moves away.

"I wanna feel bad, but this is what you get for leaving this damn window open."

...But I didn't. I know damn well I locked that window shut.

I hear her shut my window and then take something nearby.

"*groan*"

"Hush. I'm doing you a favor."

I can hear dial-up sounds. She's on my phone!

"Yo, TK. This is Lulu, Lynn's roomy. ...No, nothing so crazy is wrong. Our girl has a fever and, let me check real quick...Can you move?"

Every inch of my body is numb. I try to lift my arm yet all that I can muster is my hand, I groan at this.

"Nah, she can't move much either. Girl looks like shit. I don't think she'll be able to make it in today. ...Yeah? ...Oh, no worries. I'll play nurse and make sure she doesn't keel over. Not like she could move to do so."

"*growl*"

"Seems my patient also has a case of bitch-itis. *sigh* I'll let you go. And I'll text you later if she gets better or worse. Uh-huh. Okay. Take care."

She hangs up as I barely get an eye open, only to hiss as the sudden brightness causes intense pain to my brain.

"Don't press your luck. You've finally pushed things too far and your body is making you chill."

I wouldn't have had to if you did shit around here.

"Come on. Let's get you to the couch. I can watch you better from there."

She drags me to the edge of the bed...where I fall to the floor harder than a sack of potatoes.

"Don't dead weight on me."

Like I can help it.

"*grumble*"

She does her best to at least get me to be supported on her shoulder and I weakly shuffle my feet to move. She eventually gets me to the living room and I crash when she drops me off on the couch.

"Geez...How are you so heavy?"

I don't do drugs that suck me dry and my body retains what little food I get at this point. Why you gotta call me out like that? At least my lovely lady lumps still be banging.

"Don't move. I'll be right back."

Is that a joke? I can not move! Wait...So...I'm off with a sick day? I can do what I want? Kind of?

She comes back with a pillow and blanket.

"Can I get you anything?"

I look off in thought. Then mouth some words.

"Slower. I can't...Oh! Cell phone. Give me a sec."

She wanders back to my room and comes back rather fast.

"Why do you need this?"

I motion typing with my thumbs.

"Clever girl."

She slips it into my hands and I begin texting her.

[I have some questions.]

"Yeah? Like what?"

[What did you mean by the yoga comment?]

"You had your ass in the air like you were doing downward facing dog. Honestly looked like were reemed in your sleep."

That...That doesn't sound pleasant.

[That isn't normal. I don't sleep like that.]

"Again, you shouldn't fight sleep meds. Messed up shit happens."

[I didn't do that. I passed out around midnight. I also didn't have the window open. I locked it.]

"You did tell me you tend to open things when you sleepwalk. Maybe that's what happened. I mean, what else could it be?"

I don't like the ideas coming to my mind. Best not freak her out till I know for sure. This could just be the paranoia talking.

[Yeah. I'm probably overthinking it. Sorry.]

"Girl, don't be sorry. You're not feeling well and the fever has your head in cation mode. It's fine."

A sudden draining feeling has me dropping the phone and nearly doubling over into the coffee table with my face if Lucy hadn't caught me.

"Wow, I got you."

She shoves me back and my body limply crashes like a felled tree to a lumberjack. She puts my phone on the table and covers me for rest.

"If you need anything, just text. I'll come get you, okay?"

I nod and she walks away. ...Huh. Guess I can just sleep some more. I need to gain some energy. I need to be able to return to my room for inspection. But for now, I give in to this drained feeling and blackout fairly quickly.

…

"...Kid?"

A gruff voice and slight gosling have me stir. My eyes slowly open with not too much trouble...So there's some progress. But I don't see Lucy. Who I see...is my Landlord.

"Hey, kid. You doing okay?"

"Let the poor girl sleep. She needs the rest."

A second voice gets my attention. A soft motherly tone...Gotta be my neighbor and TK’s step-mom, Brenda.

"If she sleeps all day, how can she take these pills?"

He makes a good point. I turn my head away from him and cough into the cushions. My head is throbbing.

"See?"

Brenda huffs and I hear the oven being opened. Lovely woman is making something. Bless her heart. But I can't blame her, Mr. Williams isn't an easy guy to get along with, stern and strict yet he does have his nicer moments. Mr. Williams has a gray body with really nice buff features, in my opinion at least for a man in his 40s. His rectangular-shaped chiseled head is topped with brown hair that has lightly dulling streaks on the side along with thick brown eyebrows and deep brown eyes. He also has some facial and exposed chest hair as he's pulled the collar of his black shirt down too much in stress. From what I remember hearing, he's divorced and he kinda dresses like it. A gold watch that looks like a former anniversary or birthday gift, the black shirt is tucked into his dark grey jeans, a thick "I'll whoop your ass" dad belt, and topping it all off with a brown long-sleeved double pocket shirt that he's rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. I can see why some whisper that he's a DILF.

Brenda is no slouch in looks either, I always want to ask her age because she looks younger than she seems, I hope to age half as good as her considering she gives Lucy and me a run for our money. Her tits are bigger than ours! Lucy's a DD, I'm DDD, but Brenda has got to be F or G in size. The only thing I win is having the bigger butt, thank you Latino genes. A grey skin-toned body with a round face framed in long loosely tied back black hair that just beats mine in length by a couple of inches, chestnut brown eyes, and full come hither lips. Her body is the true ideal hourglass figure, assets popping in all the right ways that are accentuated by her form-fitting red turtleneck sweater and hip-hugging faded black jeans. She's a mama bear with big cougar appeal. Maximum MILF power for sure.

"*dry* Where's Lucy?"

I try to sit up but Don has to help when it seems I can't do it.

"She came to us for some change to get you some medicine. That was over an hour ago."

"I'm sure she's on her way back. The shops aren't so close by."

Don rolls his eyes. After three months of Lucy not fulfilling her end of the lease contract, he has no faith in her. To be honest, I'm thinking the same thing he is, she skipped out with the cash for drugs.

"Here, kid."

Don hands me a pill bottle and I take two out as he reaches over for a glass of water.

"It's not much. But aspirin is better than nothing at all."

I nod and take the meds. His hand comes to my forehead.

"You're very warm."

"*weak* Sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"*weak* She pawned me off on you."

He sighs through his nose and pats my head, taking the bottle back.

"It's fine. You're a good kid. Not like I had too much to do anyway."

"Have you checked on Ms. Greta today?"

Brenda asks and Don flinches, making me snicker. But my snickering ends as a quick blink in memory comes to me...the upper level creaking.

"*weak* Mr. Williams..."

"What is it, kid?"

"*weak* Last night...I heard something from the upper floor."

He rubs the back of his head with a groan.

"Yeah, so I've been told. I'll try to check it out later. It's on my to-do list."

"*weak* Be careful. Might be something dangerous."

He ruffles my hair with a smirk.

"It's nice knowing someone worries about my dumb ass."

Wow...He can be sweet? Hell froze over.

"I hope you've got an appetite, sugar. Because I'm making manicotti."

Oh my god, yes!

"*weak* Awesome. Thank you, Ms. Brenda."

"Heh...Please, sugar, lose the formality. It makes me feel old."

"*weak* Sorry."

I hand the water back to Don and lay back down. My head will need time for the pills to kick in. Might as well let the dark soothe me till the food is ready. I'm going to need my brain. I'm still paranoid.

…

"Where the hell have you been?!"

I nearly jump off the couch at the sudden outburst.

"Get off my ass! I'm back aren't I?"

Oh hell...Lucy's back.

"It doesn't take two hours to get fever medicine. Gas stations have that shit and one is twenty minutes away."

"You're not my fucking dad! I don't have to tell you shit!"

"Do you even have the medicine?"

"Yeah, I got the damn medicine."

She retrieves a bottle of nasty-looking syrup from her breasts. Ew...It's gonna be warm.

"Tell me you at least paid for this and not with the five-finger discount?"

She doesn't answer and Don takes the bottle with disgust before coming over to me. Lucy storms off to her room and Brenda looks uncomfortable. Same. I can literally feel myself regressing back into an eight-year-old...hiding with my brother behind a mattress pressed into the bedroom door to muffle the screaming...It never could suppress the sound, no matter how hard we tried to block it out. Please, stop fighting...make it stop!

"Lynsie? Hey, calm down."

I hadn't realized I've been trembling or digging my nails into my arms, pulling away shows deep welts that will bruise harshly.

"You okay?"

I nod. He pours a douse into the cup-like lid and hands it to me. I look at the reddish-purple liquid and try not to gag at the smell alone. I hold my nose and shoot it down, coughing at the bitter bits that linger in the back of my throat.

"*cough* Why don't they make this shit in bubblegum? *gag*"

He leaves the evil potion of nastiness on the coffee table and heads for the door. I don't expect him to stay here forever, he's got more important work than babysitting a tenant. Still, I need to do something and Brenda doesn't strike me as being strong enough to give me aid.

"*meek* Mr. Williams?"

He pauses.

"What?"

His tone is sour, something that always intimidates me.

"*meek* Could you help take me to my bedroom?"

A faint tint colors his face but his expression never falters. Maybe I should word things better.

"You shouldn't move. You've been killing yourself keeping a roof over Lucy's head. Take it easy while you can."

I pout but his "does it look like I give a shit" stare holds me in place.

"You got this, Brenda?"

She nods.

"You can count on me. I'll make sure she's taken care of."

Satisfied that someone competent is in charge, Don takes his leave and I guess will do stuff on his list. Brenda, with a plate in her hands of something to get rid of the bad taste in my mouth, approaches as the door is messed with for a moment. We look at it confused as the muffled voice of Don is heard and then followed by another voice...one that has me perk up. The door reopens and Don has Peter by the hood of his vest.

"Lynsie, do you know this guy? He doesn't look like Lucy's type."

Peter is glaring at Don but my landlord is utterly disinterested by the lanky fellow in his grasp. Now that they're standing together...Holy fuck! Don's slightly taller than Peter?!

"*meek* Of course I do. That's my boyfriend, Peter."

Peter yanks himself free.

"Told you."

He straightens up and smiles innocently at me.

"Hello there, darling."

"*meek* Hi, sweetie."

Don grumbles.

"Yeah...'Boyfriend'...Sure."

Don leaves again and I'm confused about what he meant by that. Peter comes over to sit with me as Brenda hands me the tasty dish.

"*meek* Thank you."

"Eat up, sugar. There's plenty more where this came from."

Such a nice lady.

"And this handsome man is really your boyfriend?"

Peter scoots closer and rests his head on top of mine.

"Yep. I'm this lovey-dovey honey bunny's one and only."

If the medicine was reducing my fever that went out the window with how much heat that embarrassing sentence is bringing to me now.

"Awwwww...A sweetheart too. What a catch."

...I am going to die. They are going to feed off sweet mush that embarrasses me and I'll be dead.

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Peter."

"Oh, such a gentleman. I'm Brenda. I live next door."

"It's nice to meet you. Thank you for taking care of Lynsie."

Huh...He's doing better with her than yesterday's intro with TK. Wonder why?

"You had me worried, darling. I showed up to your work for our break-date and didn't see you."

I shove pasta in my mouth to avoid talking.

"Sugar here isn't feeling so well. So she's stuck at home. Sorry we didn't let you know. We didn't know she had a boyfriend and she just woke up."

Peter's arms snake around my waist in a hug.

"It's a recent relationship so it's no surprise. No worries."

That made me pause.

"*meek* Lucy knew."

Brenda pouts.

"That girl...I swear, she'd forget her head if it weren't attached."

She runs a hand through her hair.

"Anyway, are you hungry, Peter? I made plenty."

"Not right now. But thank you."

I finish eating and hand the plate back to Brenda. She leaves to the kitchen as Peter nuzzles my hair.

"*meek* Sorry about Mr. Williams. I hope he didn't rough you up."

"Nah. It's nothing to worry about. Just curious as to why he got all rough in the first place. All I said was I was here to see you when he asked who I was."

"*meek* That's on me. With Lucy's promiscuity and my paranoia, I asked him to be wary of guys that say they come for me."

"Why's that?"

I shrink in his hold, getting his attention.

"Darling?"

I put my hands over his.

"*meek* Ms. Brenda..."

"Yes, sug...ar...?"

She turns and takes note of my nervousness.

"*meek* Peter can look after me if you want to leave."

It takes her a moment to get the hint.

"Sure, sugar, no problem. You spend time with your man. I'll be next door whipping up some more tasty goodies to fill your fridge with."

"*meek* Thank you."

"I’ll let TK you’re being fed. Though...I'm not sure how hungry you'll be with that stud muffin there to satisfy your apatite."

Or she can misconstrue my intent and piss me off.

"*meek* Thanks."

Brenda leaves, but not before blowing a kiss and winking at Peter. I don't care for that at all. I snarl.

"Weird. Why would she tell TK anything?"

"*meek* That’s his step-mom."

He takes this info and rumbles a little bit much to my confusion. So I change the subject back to why I made her leave in the first place, leaning back on Peter to get his attention.

"*meek* So...I'll tell you why Mr. Willaims was being a gate guardian, but you gotta promise to not freak out."

His face grows worried.

"This doesn't have anything to do with your family, does it?"

"*meek* No. This isn't about them. This is about my trust issues."

Sensing some heavy shit, Peter lets me go and makes himself comfortable before pulling me into his lap.

"You don't have to say it if it bothers you."

"*meek* It doesn't bother me. I'm just scared this will be the baggage that'll make you want to leave."

His arms hold me close and he kisses my cheek.

"I told you already...I will never leave you. No matter what."

I can feel a tightness in my throat from the dread of bringing this up to him.

"*meek* Do you remember when we met? How jumpy and skeptical I was about your intent?"

"Yeah."

"*meek* The reason for that and why I don't let others be close to me is..."

I can feel my eyes water.

"*meek* When I was in seventh grade, three boys attempted to rape me. And then when I was fresh out of high school, a similar event happened at a public pool. Both times, I had managed to get out of it with nothing more than shitty memories. Though the one at school was bad. Not only did I have to fight those boys off...But the school compensated me for such trauma with museum tickets. Tickets that I still have."

His fingers dig into my sides, gripping me more to him.

"*meek* Since then, I've been less trusting of people. Building up walls to keep others away or dissociating altogether just to seem unapproachable. It's probably not healthy to do so yet it's how I feel safe. I've explained this to Mr. Williams and TK. They watch out for me because sometimes I'm not in the moment enough to see the red warning flags, especially when other stuff is pulling my focus."

I wipe my eyes and look up at him.

"*meek* Sorry again that I'm so messed up."

He leans down and presses his face to mine, no kiss, only contact.

"This world has been terribly cruel to you. I'm sorry."

I give him a little nuzzle.

"*meek* I'm so glad I let you into my life."

His hands ease up and start kneading my sides apologetically.

"I promise to do anything and everything to make up for all the bad things that happened to you."

"*meek* You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to. I WANT to. What kind of partner would that make me if I didn't try?"

I give him a smile as he plants a big smooch on my forehead only to pull back suddenly.

"Wow, you're warm. Poor thing, you really are sick."

He looks around and spies the bottle.

"Did you take that stuff already?"

I nod.

"Hmmm...Probably wouldn't be good to take more so soon. Oh!"

He moves me off him and gets up.

"*meek* What are you...?"

"Give me a second, darling."

I nod again and he does his thing. He has me move into the couch corner, tucks the pillow behind my neck, and drapes the blanket over me. He heads into the kitchen, gets a hand cloth then soaks it in cold water, and returns to me to put it on my forehead. To top it off, he grabs the TV remote before cuddling up to me under the cover.

"Since you're not stuck at work and we're still on for a date...How about we do yesterday's idea? We just watch some movies and spend time together."

I snuggle closer to him.

"*meek* I'd like that."

He slips his arm around my neck and has my head rest on his side.

"Don't worry if you nod off on me. I'll be right here the whole time."

"*meek* Even if you have to pee?"

"Heh...Okay, maybe not the whole time."

I snicker as he turns the TV on. Finding a good movie is a little hard. A lot of shit is on TV. Thankfully he finds some classic horror flicks. Yet to say we watch them would be lying. We mostly add our own commentary. Such things are said like "The killer just said they're in the house, fucking leave, you stupid bitch!" or "Dismemberment? Really? Hydrofluoric acid would easily get the job done, and is less tacky." or "You know there are things that want you dead and can hear you, right? Why did you think having a baby was such a good idea?! They have no volume control!" and "How dumb do they think people are? You call that weak shit restraining? Duct tape and zip-ties can be broken easily and you can wriggle out of rope. And don't get me started on if your double-jointed.". We apparently get loud enough to draw Lucy out of her room and joins us in watching. This creates some awkward tension, Lucy finds it annoying we keep talking and Peter is annoyed she inserted herself into our moment. Brenda pops in every now and then, dropping off large tupperware meals while offering to feed us. Right now though, we had stumbled upon the greatest Jim Henson movie ever...Labyrinth.

"*meek* I loved this movie as a kid."

"Really?"

"*meek* I never knew the name because I'd always catch it midway in. So trying to ask my mom what the name was like a crazy person describing a dream they had. Mom! What was that movie we saw last night? You remember, right? The one where the troll is helping a girl that's trying to get her baby brother back from the guy that turns into an owl and sings a lot."

Peter covers his mouth to keep from laughing.

"I remember this being the movie that was my sexual awaking."

We look at Lucy funny.

"The hell does that mean?"

"Heh...You'll see~."

It takes a moment for it to hit me what she means. The clue that did it...the appearance of David Bowie.

"*meek* Oh! I get it now."

Peter's still confused.

"I don't get it."

"*meek* Look at his pants."

With that, Peter now sees what we do...The reason the man was coined "Lord of the Bulge".

"The fu...And this was a kid movie?!"

"*meek* Yep. You come for Jim and his muppets."

"But stay for Bowie and his massive pants python."

"*meek* Eh, that's just eye candy. He's the best part of the movie. The story is insane, Sarah's a dumb bitch, the other side characters are meh, but Jareth the Goblin King...That's the reason this movie is a classic. He's just a really well-developed character."

"Oh, he's well developed alright~."

"*meek* Get your head out of the gutter for once. Jareth is complex. He's not the basic stereotypical villain. He's proud, clever, charming, and deceiving. He displays other traits, at some points even shows feelings toward Sarah as she progresses through his Labyrinth. By the end of the film, he is desperate to win, attempting to win Sarah over by offering her everything she wants, promising to be her slave in exchange for her love, fear, and obedience. He acts as the ring leader with his goblin subjects, expecting them to laugh at his jokes and quickly losing his patience with them. Despite the fact he treats his subjects poorly, they continue to serve him and obey him without question. He appears weary of their antics and often seems more interested in following Sarah's progress in one of his crystals than interacting with them. Despite Jareth showing no signs of anger at Sarah's rejection in the film, the Return to Labyrinth series depicts Jareth as a sore loser in the wake of Sarah's victory, unable to accept his defeat at the hands of a young girl. He appears to be very domineering when given the opportunity, with his main goal following Sarah's defeat of him being able to make her forget her own dreams and bend to his will. However, due to the fact that he lets her leave to follow her dreams at the end of the series, this proves Jareth truly does love Sarah...Even if his love means utterly dominating her."

I am met with stares.

"You're such a nerd."

"*meek* And proud of it!"

"Nerds are hot~."

"*meek* Daww..."

"Wait, so there's a sequel?"

"*meek* Kinda. There is a script being made for a film. Not sure who could ever play Jareth since Bowie died. Those are some tight pants to fill. But the story has been continued in multiple mangas."

"...Do you have any?"

I shake my head.

"*meek* I wish. But I don't have the funds to splurge like that. Oh! And the Dark Crystal mangas too. Pretty much anything Jim Henson in manga form is on my wishlist."

"Sorry to hear that, darling. It's a shame you have to work so hard because you have a roommate that's taking you for granted."

The salty tone Peter uses cuts into Lucy who is none too happy about that.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Must I be blunt, dead-weight? Little Miss 'I've spent all my money on crack, pay my rent for me again?'"

Whoa! Damn, Peter, where the fuck is this coming from? Granted, he's not entirely wrong. But still!

"Hey! Eat my ass, you little twig!"

...That was the stupidest comeback I think I've heard since kindergarten.

"No thanks. I don't eat out sluts who might be carrying something."

Okay, this is getting way too crazy. Time to stop it before real fighting happens.

"*meek* Both of you, knock it off."

"Hey, he started it!"

"*meek* Does it look like I give a fuck who started it?"

I point at Peter.

"*meek* I know what you meant and I know you care, but the way you said it was very rude."

He pouts and I point at Lucy.

"*meek* And you, without giving me any reason for why, have been making me bleed myself dry each month. That, and you know Mr. Williams isn't cool with drugs or constant night visitors, but you do both. That puts my ass on the line, not just yours."

She's offended and startled that I'm suddenly on her like this.

"Don't jump on me just 'cause your stupid boyfriend is here."

I glare harshly.

"*meek* Bitch, I'm jumping on you because I work three fucking shifts plus overtime at a shitty job where I'm treated like dirt because you won't pay your end. Fuck, all I want is an explanation. Give me one damn reason why you can't even buy us food? Because living off the kindness of others is fucking pathetic and degrading. Please, Lucy? That's all I'm asking. Just one reason."

She's flustered. I've kept my mouth shut these last three months but Peter's call-out got a ball rolling that just couldn't be stopped...not without shoving someone in the path. She sighs as she rubs her face and then grips the couch cushions.

"Fine..."

Wait, really?!

"Do you remember my friend, Vio?"

Vio? Shit! Why do I suck at remembering people?!

"*meek* Can you give me a hint?"

"Split pierced tongue and full-body snake tattoo."

"*meek* Oh! Vio! Cool dude. What about him?"

"He got into some trouble around the time we got the apartment. I've been paying off his bail since then."

My brain shuts down. Peter speaks up.

"But you don't have a job. How are you getting money to pay his bail?"

She averts her eyes from us and avoids answering.

"*meek* Lulu...Why didn't say anything?"

"I'm used to doing things on my own. My parents were assholes. Dad was abusive and mom was on crystal meth. Ever since I was a kid, I pretty much raised myself. One night they had a really violent fight and I just ran away. So when we got this place, I meant it when I signed the lease agreement to pay half. But then Vio got arrested and I didn't want to admit to you that I needed help."

Peter growls.

"So you make her work so hard she gets sick?"

"I've been trying to get a real job. For four months I've been filling out applications. I go to interviews all the time. They just never call me back. But...*sigh* You're not wrong. I've been an ass to make her carry everything because I'm too fucking scared to let a friend know I fucked up. Which is why...I'm gonna apply to work at the diner with her."

Ow! My heart!

"I've managed to scrounge up enough to pay the last bit of his bail off. Once that's done, I'm paying you back everything I've made you give."

She finally looks at me and her eyes are filled with tears about to burst.

"Can you forgive me?"

This bitch...Argh...My achy breaky bleeding heart!

"*meek* ...Get your dumb ass over here and hug me."

I'm forgiving, yes...But I didn't say I wasn't still pissed about it. She slowly comes over to me.

"You must really be mad. I've never seen you like this before."

"*meek* I'm not mad..."

I grab her arm and pull her into an awkwardly bent hug and scowl at the back of her head.

"*meek* I'm disappointed you didn't think I'd understand."

She trembles a bit and I pat her back to affirm we're going to be okay. I look over at Peter, his stare on Lucy is one that could kill, but the second he sees me it becomes softer yet still holding some angst. I let her go.

"*meek* When are you getting him out?"

She wipes her eyes.

"*sniffle* I...I can do it tonight."

"*meek* Tell him that beasty says hi and punch his shoulder. He'll know why."

She gives a small laugh.

"Are you ever going to tell me why he calls you that?"

I wag a disapproving finger.

"*meek* A girl should never reveal all their secrets. You'll have to find out why on your own like he did."

I give a wink and blep my tongue. She heads back to her room for I guess what she needs. Peter's arm around me squeezes my arm.

"You're being rather forgiving."

"*meek* Don't mistake this as me just forgiving her. I understand her situation. After how many times I've had to lose my things to pawn shops just to give mom commissary or bail her out...*sigh* She'll be repaying me for a while. That's more than most have offered in my life."

Lucy comes back out, purse on her shoulder, and heads out the door with a thumbs up. I give her one back and wait a moment before continuing.

"*meek* You don't like her, do you?"

He flinches.

"*meek* Sorry. I don't feel well enough to beat around the bush."

He rubs the back of his head.

"It's just...You don't deserve to struggle any more than you already had to put up with. You're so nice and kind. I don't want you to be taken advantage of by some drugged-up whore that dares to call you a friend yet walks all over you."

His biting words have me looking flatly at him.

"*meek* Careful, sweetie. You're towing a dangerous line."

He holds in what he wants to say. Choosing his next words carefully.

"If I were your roommate, I'd treat you with the respect you deserve. I'd never put you through this crap. I'm stable, financially set, and loyal to a fault. If I were your roommate, you'd never have to work again. Hell, you could use me as a footstool for all I care! Just as long as I was with you and knew you were okay..."

His words peter out as my vision blurs with moisture. His dedication touches my heart.

"Shit! Darling, please don't cry. I...I..."

I silence him with a light kiss. His eyes widen as I pull away.

"*meek* Don't put me on such a tall pedestal. I'm afraid of heights."

He snorts a small laugh.

"God, you're too cute sometimes."

"*meek* Honestly, sweetie, you flatter the hell out of me."

I hold his hand, giving him some assurance.

"Just being honest with you, darling. It...It's nice being able to talk to you and know you'll hear me out."

He smiles and laces his fingers with mine. A shift in the movie's music gets my attention. The ballroom scene plays.

"Man...Looks like Eyes Wide Shut had a baby with Beauty and the Beast."

"*meek* The 80s were a gloriously trippy time. Back when kids movies would scar you for life and yet you will defend them to the death because they were so damn good."

Sarah and Jareth dance as the song "As The World Falls Down" plays. It reminds me of how Peter and I danced at the diner...minus the creepy masked weirdos and elegant setting.

"*meek* To think this film would've been completely different if they didn't manage to get Bowie to play Jareth. We really dodged a bullet in this timeline."

"Oh yeah?"

"*meek* Bowie was their first choice, they had him in mind from the start because they wanted his music and cosmic allure. But dear lord, the second and third choices for the role...Sting and Michael Jackson."

I shiver and he cringes.

"Yeah, I don't think this would be as good if they went that route."

"*meek* Ah, Bowie, truly a star the world will never see shine again."

"You have a thing for him, don't ya?"

I look at him funny.

"It's fine. I can't get jealous over a dead man."

"*meek* No. Bowie was just a really awesome dude. I will always hype him up. If anything, I dig Jareth."

"Aren't they the same person?"

"*meek* I can separate the character from the actor. Even so, I'm not like Lucy. I don't like someone based on looks. I'm into personality. It's why I usually crush on villain characters. Their more developed and have motives that can be understood. Take the main characters in Labyrinth for example. How deep is Sarah? All we know is she's a whiny brat that doesn't like her family situation, even though it's a totally fine family, and cosplays fantasy novels in the park to her dog. Jareth on the other hand, he's built up throughout the film and we see his motives change as Sarah draws closer. You want to know about him. You want to learn his story. But Sarah? Oh yeah, a moody teenager that wished away her baby bro is totally who I want to follow."

"Huh. Good point. That, and my sister's name is Sarah, so I already hate her. But..."

He pokes my cheek.

"Don't think I didn't forget you called his bulge eye candy."

I blush.

"*meek* I meant HE was the eye candy. Hell, the man sparkled like he was dipped in sugar. And not in the garbage Twilight way. *grumble* Fucking, Twilight, ruining vampires and werewolves with shitty soulless trash. Why did people like that and then thought 50 Shades of Grey, a poor excuse of Twilight fanfiction, was the pinnacle of epicness?! Argh! People have no taste!"

His lips curve in a devious smirk.

"So...What if I wore those tights and you saw my bulge?"

I pause my angst to think. Hmmm...Peter dressed as the Goblin King? Picturing it...processing...Oh, fuck! My increased blushing gets him grinning.

"I love that look you have, darling..."

He cups my cheek and leans in.

"If it so pleases you, I can be your Goblin King."

He ends that with a breathy voice and the chills that run through me at the feel of his tongue sliding across my neck are too good to be true.

*click*

"Oh my!"

Brenda walks in at the worst moment. Why does everyone have to be around when I'm with Peter?!

"S-So sorry. I was just making sure everyone was okay."

I doubt Brenda hears it, but Peter is growling lowly enough that I can feel the vibrations.

"*meek* We're good. Thanks."

She leaves embarrassed and Peter turns his attention back to me, changing the subject since the mood got spoiled.

"So...Do I have to 'find out' on my own, darling?"

Find out on your what? Oh! Right. I said that to Lucy.

"*meek* Nah, I'll tell ya. Vio calls me beasty because he heard me make animal sounds once."

His eyes cock.

"Really?"

"*meek* I watched a lot of nature documentaries as a kid and found out I have a flexible vocal range. Heh, doing so made some sounds my default for some things. Like, if I get hurt or scared I'll yelp and whimper like a puppy."

"Awww..."

"*meek* I also don't have a scream."

He looks at me funny.

"How so?"

"*meek* Don't get me wrong, I can intimate screams. But I lack my own. Instead, I roar."

His eyes widen like an excited child.

"...Can I hear it?

I hold a finger up and rub my throat. I don't do this as often as I used to so it can hurt. I inhale and let out the deep inhuman noise. It's a weird sound that reverberates through both my throat and nose. It tappers out as I go into a coughing fit. Peter has to smack my back a couple of times as I try not to hack up a lung.

"Breathe, darling, breathe."

"*coughing* Water...please..."

He bolts to fetch me a drink and I reach for the medicine bottle, pouring a dosage to gulp down. I'm coughing for a different reason by the time he returns and I chug the drink to dilute the nasty flavor sticking on my tongue.

"Better?"

A few shaky breaths calm me down.

"*meek* Yeah. Thanks."

My head is a little dizzy after all that. A chill moves through me from top to bottom.

"Darling? You don't look so well."

"*meek* I don't feel so good..."

"Just lay down. You're in no shape to push yourself."

I wobble a bit and hit the cushions with the grace of a drunken bear.

"Don't worry, love. I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna be with you all night."

He lays with me and holds me to him, my face in his chest. That scent of his floods my senses. The haze making it hard to stay conscious. The last thing I can understand before everything shuts down are the best lines in the entire movie.

"Give me the child."

"Sarah, beware. I have been generous up until now. But I can be cruel."

"Generous? What have you done that's generous?"

"Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?"

"Through dangers untold. And hardships unnumbered. I have fought my way here to the castle; beyond the goblin city, to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom..."

"Stop! Wait...Look, Sarah. Look what I'm offering you. Your dreams."

"And my kingdom as great..."

"I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want."

"My kingdom as great...damn. I can never remember that line."

"Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave."

"My kingdom is great...my kingdom is great...You have no power over me!"

…

Strange flashes in my mind. Glimpses of things I don't recognize. A figure looming near me. Touching and clawing at my form. I call out for aid but have no mouth. This shadow is devouring me. Taking me to a place from which there is no escape. I weep but have no eyes. I thought I could see yet I was truly blind. And then...

"*gasp*"

I wake in a panic and hear startled shuffling. I only get a quick look at Peter from the kitchen haphazardly catching a knife that was tossed in shock. He comes over and rubs my back.

"Easy, darling. Settle down. It was only a dream."

My shaking slows down and my breathing settles.

"*meek* Only...a dream..."

"Let me get you something to eat. Your dietary habits probably didn't mix well with the medicine."

I nod and he walks away. I don't get dreams like that. Sure, they can fucking weird like that time I was being forced to marry Jason Voorhees when I was really in love with Michael Myers. Or that one random reoccurring one where a man in a chocolate bunny suit playing a ukulele and follows me where ever I go. Yet then there are the random ones that seem too real and then happen in real life later on. Why I can never dream up the winning lottery numbers still pisses me off. But that...That one...That felt wrong. Despite the oddness, it felt tangible. Like real hands were touching me. I...I shouldn't have brought up the rape attempts. Fucking brain made it 100% worse than what actually happened by just being creatively imaginative.

"Lynsie?"

I shake my thoughts away and try to smile for him.

"*meek* I'm okay...Just clearing my mind. Still not feeling so good."

He hands me a plate and then feels my forehead.

"You're not as warm as before. Another dosage might help kick it for good."

I nod again, just going along with things till the unease goes away. He picks up on this but keeps quiet, pouring my now third dose of yucky brew. I'm still sort of out of it, so he ends up bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back so it goes down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head and start eating.

"Was that bad, huh? My poor, sun spot."

He sits behind me and holds me to him.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

I shake my head.

"*meek* You being here is enough."

He sighs but in a good way.

"*meek* Did Lucy come home yet?"

"No."

His hold ends as I feel him play with my hair.

"*meek* Why did you have a knife when I woke up?"

"Just putting things away after doing the dishes. Brenda might make good food but she forgot to clean up. And since you're not feeling well, I figured I'd help my darling out by doing a few things here and there."

He's too good to be true.

"*meek* You're amazing."

He chuckles and continues to have his fun with my hair. Teasing the scrunchie lower and lower, gauging if I'll stop him. I don't and he lets my hair flow freely.

"So long...How long did this take to grow?"

"*meek* Not long. It's only been cut maybe five times."

"Why cut it?"

"*meek* The first time was because it was too long. I'd sit on it and my neck would be pulled back if I tried to stand. The second was because it was knotting badly. The third was a normal haircut. The fourth time, my sister told me she was going to snip the tips to get rid of split ends...she cut up to my shoulders. And the fifth and last time, I did it as a symbolic way of cutting away my past."

"That's cool."

His fingers comb through my locks, taking his time to undo any knot he finds with a gentle finesse that has me barely feeling any of it.

"Must get really hot around your neck. That's why you tie it up, right?"

"*meek* Yeah. How did you know?"

"I used to have long hair too. Not as long as yours, I think it reached the middle of my back, but it was thick. On hot days it was murder. Like walking on the sun and drinking lava bad."

I tilt my head back to look at him. Hmmm...Peter with hair?

"What? What's with that look?"

"*meek* Trying to picture you with hair. But not enough detail is known to get a good image."

He blushes.

"*meek* What's your hair color?"

"B-Black."

Nope. Still can't picture it.

"*meek* Got a photo?"

His entire body tenses up.

"N-No! I mean...All those old photos were lost in a bizarre fire accident. S-Sorry, darling."

I pout and return to finishing off my meal.

"*meek* Shame. I bet you were just as cute as you are now."

A weak sound comes from him. No clue what it means. Either way, another plate of pasta fills my belly and he returns to messing with my hair.

"You don't mind me like this, right?"

I move the plate to the coffee table.

"*meek* Like what?"

"You know...Bald."

"*meek* Hair or no hair, it doesn't matter. I like you for you."

His hands comb their way to my scalp and start massaging. God that feels good.

"Are you purring?"

I nod.

"That's hot."

I giggle.

"*meek* I could get used to this."

"What's that?"

"*meek* Being happy."

He stops and I turn to face him.

"*meek* Thank you for being my boyfriend."

I lean into him for a kiss and he eagerly makes the connection.

"I can't believe this is happening. Tell me I'm not dreaming."

"*meek* Heh. Is it really so hard to believe? Am I not allowed to enjoy quality couple time with my Peter?"

His face reddens a bit and his more bashful side comes out.

"Y-Yeah. Heh...I just sometimes forget because, well..."

"*meek* What?"

"You're Ace. And I want to respect the level system you made."

Smack! This boy is too pure for my soul to comprehend!

"I know I border the line sometimes. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable just because I want a little more. But you have no idea how hard it is to be full of these feelings and urges. How hard it is to not smother you with kisses till our lips are swollen. To touch you and feel your soft skin. To hold you and breathe in your sweet scent. Seeing you makes my heart want to burst...among...other things."

He takes my hands in his, holding them tightly like they're a lifeline.

"Sometimes I get so worked up even when you're at work. Seeing you in that cute uniform...Watching you be strong and not take the bull others throw at you...God, it gets me going to the point I want nothing more than to bend you over the counter and fuck you in front of everyone, letting them know you belong to me and I to you."

I can feel all sorts of heat flooding me.

"I hope I'm not creeping you out by being so forward. But even you said trust is important in a relationship. And you have been so honest with me. Telling me things you don't let just anyone know. I owe you that same trust. I owe you my love in all its glory. Even if it's just me telling you about it."

He softly kisses my hands, a gentle and vulnerable look on his face.

"I love you, Lynsie. Everything and anything I do, I do for you and our love."

My heart is in overdrive. So much blood is being pumped that my brain locks on that last bit and loads the first thing it connects to it.

"*meek* ♪Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for. You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for. You know it's true. Everything I do. I do it for you.♫"

The look of his face, blank yet blushing, it snaps me back out of it.

"*meek* Did I just do something dumb? I feel like I did something dumb."

I blink and in the next second, he's grabbed my face then smashed his mouth into mine. Such intensity. Even now, with as much passion he's putting into it to the point my breath is stolen, he's holding back. After a good solid minute, he pulls back just enough for us to be rubbing noses.

"*lustful shudder* Darling..."

My lord, why does he sound so fucking hot like this?!

"What can we do while at level two?"

Oh...Oh shit...SHIT!

"*meek* Uh..."

Think! He's been an absolute dream. Putting up with your crap and not being scared off by your past. You owe him something reasonable.

"Don't force yourself if it makes you uncomfortable."

"*meek* I'm fine. Really. I told you before that I'm willing to try for you. I'm just...Really nervous. I've never done this before and I don't want you to have a bad time because I don't know what I'm doing."

I'm fiddling with my hands bashfully to keep composed. He on the other hand looks like he's about to lose his mind. I really need to filter how I say things.

"*gulp* W-What exactly do you w-want to do?"

I don't know how to say it in a normal way. So...I default to game speak.

"*meek* Level two, kissing perk upgrade, advance skill."

I can see the gears turning in his head. Just to make it a little clear what I mean, I stick my tongue out a little. When he finally gets it, his eyes widen and his pupils dilate like crazy.

"Are you sure?"

I don't have enough courage to speak and do this. I merely nod.

"Positive?"

Why are you asking so much? That's making me think twice with doubt!

"*meek* Peter, please..."

"Sorry, sorry...I'll stop. I just want to make one thing clear."

He grabs my waist and I freeze.

"My tongue is very sensitive. Things might get...intense."

That...That explains a few things now that I think of it.

"*meek* ...Understood."

I shut my eyes and wait, not being able to do the deed myself. The anticipation is nerve-wracking. Suddenly I can feel him kiss my nape and slowly makes his way up to my jawline. I'm beginning to think my neck is a sensitive spot because I'm trembling lightly. I peek and meet his gaze, my cheeks burning red much to his delight.

"You look so captivating, darling. Please...Don't look away."

His voice is laced with such desire that it sways control from me. I keep my eyes open and on him.

"Good girl."

I shudder when his mouth meets mine and my hands wearily rest on his shoulders. His lips, the sensation they spark in me, it's like the sweetest of tastes and realizing I'll never get enough. I try to copy his motions and it sets him off, kissing me harder, deeper, with a fervent urgent need that elitist such raw sounds from the both of us.

"*panting* I can't wait to taste you..."

He brushes his tongue over my bottom lip, requesting entrance.

"I bet you're delicious~"

"*meek shudder* Fuck that's hot."

That ego-boosting blurt out has him swelling with pride and he hungrily claims his prize. His tongue slips inside my mouth, gentle but demanding. It’s nothing like I've ever experienced, and I suddenly understand why people describe kissing as melting because every square inch of my body dissolves into his. My fingers grip his shirt, pulling him closer. My veins throb and my heart explodes. I have never wanted anyone or thing like this before. Ever. Lost in the moment, I don't resist the pull of his hands as they guide me to him, getting me to straddle his lap and pressing as close as possible to his body...and I don’t care. I don't care about any of the negativity my brain was pushing on me. Gone is the nervousness. Gone is the shyness. Gone is the anxiety. Gone is the fear. All I want is Peter.

"*moan* Oooh darling..."

"*meek purr* Yes, dearest?"

"Roll your hips for me."

"*meek* How so?"

His needy hands grip me and move my lower half as he sees fit, setting the motion that I am to follow as his own hips grind up into me. I feel him...all of him...getting harder and pressed against me. Only kept apart by fabric and respect. A strange new sensation comes of this, almost breaking the foggy trance he's put me in. His hands leave my now moving hips and are roaming everywhere they can, feeling me like the blind reading braille. And it doesn’t matter that his mouth is already on top of mine or that his long suffocating tongue is mapping every move it can make with mine, I want him closer. I want to breathe him, lick him, feel him, love him. ...I love him. I actually love this man. I love Peter.

I stop and he whimpers from the sudden end.

"Darling? What's wrong? Why did you stop?"

I release my grip on him to gently hold his face.

"*meek* I love you."

Now it is he who looks like he was smacked...love smacked.

*click*

We look at the door to see Don just barely peeking in, I guess it's his turn to check in on me. He takes one look and gets frazzled in a calm way. The silence has him shutting the door and yet we can hear him grumbling to himself from the other side.

"I need to get my freaking head examined..."

It takes a good minute for Peter to sigh a growl and try to rub the annoyance off his face.

"This wouldn't happen if we were living together at my place."

At this point, I have to agree with him. Is there a bell that goes off to summons people whenever we get just a little bit heated?

"*meek* At this point it's even bugging me."

He cocks his brow.

"Really?"

I nod.

"*meek* I mean, you'd think we could enjoy a tender moment in peace without someone walking in."

"Well...You could always move in with me."

Wait...Is he serious?

"*meek* I...Wow...No lie...Very tempting."

"What's stopping you?"

"*meek* I'm signed in for year here. If I leave before that time, that's a huge amount of money I can't pay off even if I sold everything in this place. Like, I'm talking nearly five grand."

He pouts.

"But, and bear with me, say I could hypothetically pay that off. Would you move in then?"

I have to think about this. If I were to remain here, I have to still deal with Lucy and all her crud even if she says she'll get her act together. Yet if I go with Peter...I get Peter. Argh...This is tough.

"I've been telling Rat about you. She's excited to have a mom. Someone to spend time with her while I'm working in another room."

Oh, you playing dirty now?

"*meek* Bringing the baby into this? Low blow, sir."

He snickers.

"Worth a shot. But...Would you?"

I sigh.

"*meek* That's a big step, sweetie. We've only been dating for less than a week and that sounds like a level four or, at the minimum, mid-level three type deal. And we've only just breached unlocking level three."

His face saddens.

"Oh. I guess I was asking a bit too much too..."

Realization hits.

"W-Wait! Level three unlocked?!"

I nod and he embraces me tightly, making me snicker till I'm reminded of the rather stiff rod pressing into me.

"*meek* E-Easy now. You don't want to hurt yourself."

His face reddens but his excitement never fades.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of that later. I'm just so happy. Not only did we reach another relationship level, but..."

He smothers me in an intensely deep kiss.

"I got to hear you tell me that you love me~."

The coo in his voice sends me into bashful mode. I hide in his neck and he pets my head.

"I love you, Lynsie."

"*meek* ...I love you too, Peter."

He purrs. And I try to ignore the poking and twitching between my legs.

"So..."

Uh oh.

"What does level three unlock? If it's okay to ask. Unless you still need to think about it, I don't want to put you on the spot or anything."

A little late there.

"*meek* I still need to think about it. I haven't had the free time to get that far in thought. Not with all the crap that's happened, you know?"

"Understood. Just take your time. I can wait."

He truly is a sweetheart. I kiss his neck and settle into him as comfortably as I can with his boner still raging. Seriously, how is he not in pain? Isn't it driving him crazy? Do I not know how dicks work? So many questions! Ugh...I shouldn't dwell on such things. I'll end up with some weird fucking dreams.

"Getting sleepy?"

"*meek* I could probably go for another nap."

I move off him and he hisses ever so faintly from the lost contact.

"*meek* Go take care of your friend, sweetie. I'll be here and ripe for cuddles when you come back."

He rubs the back of his head with an embarrassed snicker.

"Okay. But just so you know..."

He leans into my ear and speaks with a breathy sly tone.

"I'll be thinking of you the whole time~."

I hide in my hands and he heads to the bathroom with proud laughter. Damn him and his ability to fluster the shit out of me with ease!

I undo the comfy corner he made and set it up for sleep. Maybe if I let my mind wander I can think about stuff better. Wow, what kind of sentence was that? My head must really be messed up. Being sick sucks so much ass! I shut my eyes.

Maybe level three could be a more intimate level? Like touch-related stuff. It probably won't kill me to let him feel my boobs. So would that mean clothes removal would be an optional perk? I'll limit that to just the base layer and underwear stays on. Wait...So if I grant him boob access...What does mean for me? Oh...Oh shit! Uh, change the train of thought! Change it now! Stop thinking about his dick! Stop it!

I battle myself for while till Peter comes back. The power of his cuddles does wonders to put me at ease. Making it all the easier to go gently into that goodnight.

…

Ugh...My head...My head is killing me. I stir from slumber in the dead of night. The room is completely dark. Feeling around, I can't find Peter and just assume he's gone to the bathroom. Still, I can't wait on him to deal with this pain. Where did Don leave the aspirin? Standing up proves a poor choice, the pressure grows in intensity and just about every part of me scrunches up. I know the living room layout but still have to feel around to avoid hitting things. This has got to be the worst headache I've ever had. I make it to the kitchen when the pain gets to be too much. I'm bracing the counter for my life just to keep standing. Fuck...Fuck...Don't fall...Don't you fucking fall...Don't give in...Don't...

Sudden touches on my back have my yelp in shock.

"Shhh...Easy, darling, it's just me."

As relieving as Peter's return is I'm on the verge of tears and trembling.

"You're shaking. What's wrong?"

All I can do is whimper.

"Do you need medicine?"

I have no clue if he can see me, maybe he can what with his eyeshine, but I nod as softly as possible to avoid shaking my brain.

"Okay, uh...Let me just..."

I hear the rattle of a bottle and his hand comes to my mouth.

"Take these, dear. They'll take all the pain away."

I do as told in the hope of sweet healing. Two tablets pop into my mouth and he helps me stagger over to the sink, I shove my face in the facet stream for something to wash them down.

"My, someone's thirsty."

I pull myself from the water and shut it off.

"*meek* Thank you, sweetie."

"Think nothing of it, darling. I'm just happy to be of help."

I attempt to turn around to hug him but my body suddenly feels extremely weighted. My sense of balance is fading quickly. I know this feeling well...My body is shutting down. But this is happening way too fast to be normal. What did he give me?

"*meek* S-Something's wrong."

My body caves to whatever tablets I took. Legs giving out as gravity takes hold and I brace for impact. I'd be in worse pain if it hadn't been for Peter. His arms catch me and wrap themselves around me in a loving embrace against his body...yet it doesn't feel right. My mind is racing almost as fast as his heartbeat. Is he as freaked out as me? Is he panicking that he gave me the wrong meds? Please, let that be the reason why.

"*slurring* Pe...P-Peter..."

His arms tighten around me as my full weight drops on him.

"Don't worry, Lynsie..."

He nuzzles my cheek before kissing it and purring in my ear.

"I'm going to take good care of you~."

Realization kicks in and the exact nature of the situation sinks in completely...He's drugged me.

Panic mode kicks in and what little adrenaline I can muster is used to struggle from his arms. But he doesn't let up, not even once, he's too strong. Fear is overtaking me. Trauma coming back like it's still fresh. I fight the best I can under this paralyzing effect, punching, kicking, clawing, stomping. Clearly I'm hitting him yet my strength is utterly drained, so each attack has negative damage output. I know I'm doing poorly when he lightly chuckles and kisses the top of my head.

"Let's get you to bed, love."

I give up on fighting. I can't do anything. Everything is failing. Even my crying is weak.

"No no, darling. No tears. I'll be with you all night. Even in your dreams."

Damn it...Why? Why did you do this? I thought you cared! I thought you loved me!

"*slurred* I...trus...ted...you..."

I feel him scoop me into his arms like a bride and I want to vomit at the knowledge he's taking me to my room. I'm going to be ruined. And by him of all people. Why? Why Peter? Why did I love you?

My breathing slows to a crawl. Thought is stopping. My eyes close. And the darkness consumes me.

…

(He places you down on the bed with loving care)

(Admiring you as he has done for months now)

(Slowly he spreads your legs and crawls between them)

(The night is still young and he is far from done being with you)

(You are in for a very rough night)

(Sweet dreams)

#your boyfriend #yourboyfriend #your boyfriend peter #your boyfriend fanfiction #yourboyfriend peter

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lovesanmotion · 4 years ago

Text

yandere!fanboy!ateez reacts: s/o writing a song about them

This is: requested | I guess....the yandere!ateez as fanboys are a success from what I can see. I only uploaded them without thinking. Also, don’t hesitate to blow up my request box! I’m jobless like Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung. Also, to the sender who requested this, thank you so much for appreciating my blog and writing!

Lyrics I placed in order: Love Battery - LOONA (Immortal Songs) Shadow - F(x) Going Crazy - Secret Jieun ft. BAP Yongguk Peekaboo - Red Velvet Shampoo - After School Babe - Hyuna Into You - Yuri Love Foolish - TWICE

Hongjoong:

“Even if you are not handsome, I like it. Even if you’re not buff, I like it. You are just for me, to me, you are the best.”

Hongjoong stood among the crowd with a foolish smile painted on his lips. His hands placed on top of his chest as he listens to your new song that you are performing at your comeback concert.

“Hold me one more time. Hold me tightly until I burst. Love’s effect must be fading. I need you.”

A soft sigh escapes his lips dramatically. Lovestuck as he watches the love of his life sing a song about him and how she constantly needed his touch or else she’d die from his lack of attention on her.

“Fill me with love. Love battery has drained. I can’t live without you, I really can’t live without you. You are my battery.”

He clutches his chest tightly, his heart beating loudly inside. He didn’t cared how wild the others were cheering for your comeback stage, all that matters to him is that this song was made for him. Just for him. Normally he would promote your songs by requesting them on radio stations, but he hesitated on the idea of promoting it. This was his song. And only he gets the full rights to enjoy it. The others are just listening to it, he thought that you were kind enough to let everyone hear the song you made especially for him.

“To me, you are everything. I like you so much, I totally like you. My only love, there’s no other, my love. You are the best.”

As the comeback concert ended, everyone inside the concert hall talked about how your comeback song is a hit and promised to get you another music show win. The others gushed how you must be in love that you wrote a song about affection.

Hongjoong could only chuckle to himself as he walks out of the venue, hands filled with your individual merchandise and a wallet almost empty after emptying the shelves of your concert goods.

“Stupid fools think that the song is for them when in fact the song is about me. Me! Only me! Why would Y/N ever notice all of you when a whole me exists?” Hongjoong thought to himself as he walked alone late that night.

Seonghwa:

“Everyday, I secretly chase after your footsteps. I’m always careful so you won’t notice. No one says it but our date has started, our own date.”

Click click! Seonghwa focuses his camera on a different angle before taking another shot of you. Click click!

“Where are you going? Step by step, I follow you. Without a word you lead me. Step by step, did you notice me? I have nowhere to hide anymore.”

Yesterday, Starlight made a comeback and today, they are performing their comeback song at a radio station. For this comeback, Starlight’s Y/N participated in the song writing, having been credited two songs in the mini album. She partook writing the comeback song!

“When the sun rises, I walk in sync and together with you. I am really really into you. When the moon rises, you fall asleep in my arms. I really really like you.”

Seonghwa’s parents had been praising him for landing a wonderful job in the corporate world. When in reality, he was only hired by a fellow sasaeng that gave him much flexible work hours so he could still manage to slip out of his work and follow your every footstep in the country or out. He was being paid fairly well even when all he did was just to follow you around.

“Day by day, we resemble each other more and more. Your laughter and tears, I know it all. Don’t be scared, were a fate tied by the sun, its our destiny to be together.”

As the performance ended, the girls sat back down on their seats and the interview rolled in. Fansites can only hang outside of the studio, and of course, Seonghwa is up close, nearest to Y/N.

“Congratulations to Starlight! This is their third comeback and the song is really catchy!” The MC remarked.

“It’s sounds like a summer song! I heard Y/N took part in the production?” The second MC asked, the cameras then turned to face Y/N. Y/N who was flustered, nodded her head. “Yes”

“Can you tell us the story behind the song? Your fans are dying to know the meaning behind such a good song.” The first MC says.

Y/N held the microphone in her head, smiling, she explained: “This is a true to life song. I made a song about a guy who was really handsome and captured my heart. We were always going in the same direction and one time, his hand brushed into mine. And I felt so happy by the small connection.” Y/N chuckles.

When Seonghwa heard about it, he lowered his camera and stared at Y/N. The song was about him. He remembered how he would spend his vacant period at work to follow Y/N when they were shooting an ad around Namsan because of the newly built skywalk. His hand brushed on hers when they were buying food at the convenient store. Seonghwa was so moved by the explanation that he felt like his feelings grew more for you.

“My sunshine likes getting attention. My attention. That’s right, my sunshine, bathe in my attention only. ”

Yunho:

“It’s not love, this isn’t love. It’s just your obsession. Wherever, Whatever I do. It’s frightening. The you who watches me.”

Yunho watched as Y/N practices for her upcoming comeback stage at The Show next week. He admired how she dare approached a bold and mature comeback. And he was so happy to see this new side of his girl. However, he felt like he needed to be more protective of her since she was going for a more risque concept.

“Have you gone crazy? Why are you like this? Please just leave me alone now. Seeing you is suffocating. Please disappear from my sight.”

Yunho stood behind the cameras as he watches Y/N and the featured artist practice. He heard a few staffs make a comment about how the featured artist looks like him. And maybe how you might’ve fallen in love with him. Yunho’s feeling swelled when he heard of those comments. In fact, he was so happy that he heard it from them. But you on the other hand, why do you still deny your feelings for him? Why was it so hard for you to be up front and honest with what you feel? Is it because he works as your manager? You’re in the same company as he is? And that you kept insisting to be professional? At this point, Yunho would resign if that was the case. If he can’t have you because of his line of work, he would be more than pleased to resign and be in your arms everyday.

“Get lost. Just back off. I really can’t breathe. Wherever I go, wherever I am. It’s frightening. The you who follows me.”

Yunho managed to lift the debts off his family. After paying the debts, he was able to even buy a new home for them around Gangnam area. His parents hesitated on the idea at first since owning a land in Gangnam costs way more than renting, Yunho told them not to worry. Not to worry since he is being paid royalty in his job. After that, he was able to spoil you with luxurious gifts and live with you in your apartment. More like forced himself into your home.

“This ain’t right, this isn’t love. It just hurts me, don’t be like this. I loved you. But I don’t now. Erase me from your memory.”

And when the song was released, Yunho was all up for promoting it. He made everyone he know listen to the song in various streaming platforms and watch the MV as well. Whether you would like it or not, Yunho is here to stay in your life. Permanently.

Yeosang:

“Peekaboo! This is new, is this love? All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem. I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine.”

A small painted Yeosang lips as his eyes followed you on stage. He watched you as you danced in a tight red dress. That was his gift for you last Christmas to be exact. The designer brand didn’t really put it out for sale. They only made one and had it up for auction. It was a dress that accentuated your curves and complimented your skin. Yeosang won the auction and had it included in your next comeback.

“Tag you’re it! It’ll be fun! I’ll include you here. Til the moon hangs on the jungle gym, let’s play”

Since Yeosang is someone who holds a high position in the company, he made a proposal to be your sponsor. At first, your members didn’t like the idea since sponsors have a bad reputation attached to it. But you were naive and still proceeded with the sponsorship. You thought it would go bad, but Yeosang made you feel comfortable in his home and gave you all the fame that you wanted. Never did he once ask anything that was against your morals.

“Peekaboo! It’s strange, you’re different. I stop this game and I look at you again. I’m not a fraid, because I just felt that a new story will begin”

Your members were still cautious about Yeosang orbitting around you. There was something about him that they could not lay a finger on. Scared that they would find their contracts terminated the following day. But seeing you happy, they felt like they needed to stop. As long as you are happy, they are happy. Yeosang included.

“Don’t worry, my love. You’re safe with me. Anyone who accuses you will come to me first.”

San:

It was 9pm when you made a surprise V live alone in the recording room of your company building. San was actually nearby, he was hid inside the convenient store where he bumped into you before.

“Hello everyone! Have you all eaten? I missed you alot.” He watches his Y/N pout in the screen. His heart raced a bit,

“I ate already, my love. Don’t worry.” San responds, as if it was only him that you were talking to.

“I made a new song and I’m in the recording room. Apparently, I was given permission to spoil the song for you!” Y/N happily takes her phone and draws it closer to the company phone of where she is doing her live.

“I wanna be shampoo Trickling down your hair I wanna embrace you With my strong fragrance I will wrap around your entire body With white foam So even the mirrors can’t see you I will cover you So no one can have you You won’t ever get rid of my scent”

“That’s all the spoil for now.” Y/N stops the recording and turns the camera to her face again. She leaned her face closer and read a few comments about how would the fans think.

“What is your inspiration behind this song?” She read aloud. She leaned back in her seat with her lips pursed. “In all honesty, I met a male fan last week. I actually bumped into him and I was able to smell his perfume and...” Y/N paused. “He smelled so good that...was it possible to fall in love just by smelling their perfume?” Y/N chuckles softly.

San had his eyes wide. The song was about him. He felt like bursting from his seat but he refrained himself from doing so.

“I hope he isn’t a weird fan. I also have a fan who constantly bothers me even at the late hours. It’s bothering me. And I hope the person stops soon.” Y/N said. Double jackpot! He got mentioned twice by you. He couldn’t wait until the song releases, he was already booking train station platforms in honor for the release of your song.

Mingi:

Was it possible to fall in love with just a touch? Ever since the incident at the Incheon Airport, your company has become stricter and hired more bodyguards when it comes to outside activities. From what you heard, VS Media is even rewriting their rules when it comes to fan and idol gift giving.

“Come on, let me play some more. Why treat babies gently, I cannot count on you, my age. You’ve walked in any magic. I am the one for you. Everyday I wake up. This is mine.”

Ever since the incident at the airport, you slightly became uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the dorm. Despite your feelings, rest assured that your members were always there for you.

“I am not sleeping today. I remember my eyes. I’m not sleeping.”

It’s been a month since you stepped foot inside the airport again, things were going okay. You were able to walk inside and through the gates without any problem. The fans still following your footsteps, you tried to loosen up yourself a bit - smiling and waving at them. Nothing could go wrong.

Until, you saw a figure from your peripheral vision. You turned your head to take a look, but no one was there. Strange. As you and your group were able to board the plane, you took a seat near the window and pulled out your lyrics notebook. Flipping through the pages, you stopped at an unfinished work. The unfinished work is your solo song used as an outro for Starlight’s upcoming full album.

“Babe babe babe in your eyes. Babe babe babe in your hand. My appearance is babe babe babe babe. I want to hear it again.”

“Are you writing a song?” You were startled with the question. You turned your head and didn’t noticed how a man with a mask and cap sat besides you already.

“Yes I am” You spoke softly. “Can I read it?” the man besides you asked.

You hesitantly gave him the notebook, the man took it and read through the lyrics.

“I like how you composed the song. It’s still in its raw form too. You’re a genius.” The man complimented. You smiled and thanked him for the compliment. The next thing you knew shocked you.

The man placed a hand on your knee, his other free hand removed his mask and cap. Song Mingi. At that moment, you couldn’t process what was happening. All you knew was that your mind kept telling you to tell at least your members. But your body started heating up at his touch.

“Did you miss me?”

Wooyoung:

Wooyoung had disguised himself as the photographer for your album. The night before it came, he worked on creating his fake ID and borrowed a spare camera to use for the production.

“At that smile that sees my eyes. For me, the whole world is bathed in light. Hold my hands and I close my eyes. I hope this time stops here.”

Wooyoung’s breath almost took away as he saw you in black under shorts and wrinkled and almost unbuttoned white button down. He didn’t know what the concept was but his eyes were already feasting on your body, not ever feeling full.

“Fall in love more deeply, you and I. Let’s fall in deeply, you and I together. The one thing that I want. You seep into me, you spread inside of me.”

“Ms Y/N taking the bold move of doing her first sexy concept.” Y/N’s manager teased her. Wooyoung knew everyone who was on set. Him, Y/N, Y/N’s manager, stylist, make up artist and a few production crew that wasn’t part of VS Media.

“What’s the story behind this concept?” Y/N’s manager asked, Wooyoung could only stare in awe at Y/N. Never did he see this side of her. He always knew of Y/N as the sweet and bubbly girl in soft concepts. But of course, Wooyoung love to break the types.

“I actually like to search my name on the internet. And I came across fanfics of myself.” Y/N chuckles. Oh that sweet sound that made Wooyoung’s heart beat fast. The audio recorders can never outdo it.

“There is a certain blog that possibly does a lot. That blog posts photos of me, writes fanfics and posts my schedules too. He’s doing god works for my other fans.” Y/N chuckles. As the production of the photoshoot started, Wooyoung did his best to capture the real beauty of this side of Y/N.

“What a hardworking fan. What’s the name of the blog?”

“ForY/N”

Wooyoung’s eyes widens as he heard the name of his blog. His blog inspired you to make a song....about him?

“Filling my whole heart. With you, I feel my heart. Fall in love more deeply, you and I. Let’s fall in deeply, you and I together.”

“The way that person writes really amazes me. I’d like to get to know the person.” Y/N explains. His mind fell into a spiral. Part of him wanted the song to be released already but there was also a part of him that wanted the song to be released for him only.

“Wish will soon become tomorrow. Today is more heart fluttering than yesterday. I want to go together with you. Closer to the place where my dream reaches.”

The bonus thing about what Wooyoung did today is that as a photographer, he was able to keep some of the photos. Running away even with some.

Jongho:

Jongho fell in line for the release of your album. He was actually second in line as he was actually camping outside of the building of your company.

“Everyday I called out your name, about a thousand times, about ten million times Before you finally heard it Cut and rewind, why can’t you be mine? Ooh the one who spins my head like this It’s you, just running running running around you My repeatedly-midnight promise I don’t know what to do”

Jongho, who had his arms crossed over his chest, looked up and down to turn around where that song was coming from. He hasn’t heard of this song but he knew that was your voice.

“Crazy love! I love you, love you, hate, foolish Crazy love! I love you Make me feel so high Love! I love you, love you, hate, foolish Crazy love! I hate you Make me so bad It’s weird, the more I fall for you I’m sorry, I’ll hate you I don’t know, I can’t explain this I’m trapped in a labyrinth of strange emotions”

The whole room was adorned with your own merchandise and on the TV display was actually an MV of your b side. Jongho took a basket and grabbed a handful of your limited and regular version of your albums, along with a packet of your photocards and a griptok.

As he was in line to pay for his orders, in which his basket was filled as he actually bought more of your items. You made a sudden appearance into the room. For Jongho, he felt as if the room got brighter when you suddenly stepped inside. When it was his turn to pay for his items, the people behind the counter were amazed at how many he was able to fit into his basket.

Tapping his feet impatiently, he wanted to be able to greet you before you left the room. When his bag was handed to him, he immediately took it and sped walk towards your direction, talking to a few.

He felt as if the gods were with him. As he drew closer to you, the ones you were talking to left and it just you and him now.

“Hello Y/N!” Jongho greeted. You turned to him happily. “Hello!”

“I really really like this song of yours!” He gushed happily. “Can you tell me about it?”

You nodded happily. “The song is actually about someone who makes me feel happy, the idea of love in a dangerous way? The idea send me thrills.” You chuckled. Jongho felt ecstatic. Beyond the moon even. You wrote a song about him!

That afternoon when he got home, he made sure that everyone in Seoul would be able to hear the song that you made. It was for him so he had full brag rights to do so.

#ateez #Ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez yandere #kpop yandere

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monsoonblooms12 · 4 years ago

Text

The Butterfly Effect (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Journey from where it all began to where they are now. From a 2-minute power nap to a Miami kiss, Pooja and Ethan have come a long way. From Pooja's POV (Set in OH Bk 1 Ch 10 and contains flashbacks from OH Bk 1 Ch 1, Ch 4 and Ch 5)❤

The Butterfly Effect: Discovered by Edward Lorenz, this theory suggests that something small and insignificant, can alter situations in such a way that leads to utterly drastic changes. For example, a butterfly flaps its wings at an Amazonian Jungle and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. (This has to be one of my favorite theories ever🦋)

A/N: I got inspired from a dark Academia quote and here we are with 2.4K of mess. But I enjoyed providing all the fbs from Poo's POV and filling in the gaps of the unknown. And all the DbC peeps, I am trying to finish ch 8 believe me😭

Thank you so much to @jamespotterthefirst for Pre-reading! Love you🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🦋

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.4K

Rating: General

Category: A messy mix of Fluff and Angst

Warnings: None that I found

A grain of sand, almost imperceptible to the human eye, 2 millimetres in diameter. Just a tiny little grain of sand, a single one. One would wonder how great of an effect that could produce?

A single grain of sand, eliminated from the base of a sand sculpture, can set on fire a cascade of events that result in something as drastic as the demolition of the entire sculpture. Just a trifling 2 mm sized grain of sand.

Tufts of hair gently swayed with the swooshing ocean breeze, the very grains of sand of which her mind was thinking about slip through gaps of her toes. It's a calming atmosphere, having a Zen-like effect on her racing heart and confused reasoning.

The echoing crash of ocean tides, the hushed ruffle of her shimmering purple dress, and the pattern of her footsteps of the white sand, now silver under the enchanting moonbeams.

She could not think about bad ideas and good ideas anymore. Nor could she obliterate the delicate touch of peach lips ingrained in her mind. Everything was a lock of tangled hair, a chaotic mess in her mind.

And when you can't disentangle a mess, you just tear it off.

That was what she was doing, tearing herself away before her mind got engulfed by a cocoon of ambiguity and concealed probabilities, restricting her to get out without getting transformed into someone else.

Legs exhausted after strolling for who knows how long, Pooja sits down, not bothering about the sheet of sand fragments that adhered begrudgingly to the purple satin.

A simple motion ensues, the florid hair tie holding her brown hair strands in a ponytail, now lay in her hand, giving them the liberty to enjoy the tranquillity of the idyllic scene they found themselves in.

Relaxation. That was what she anticipated. The soothing of her racing heart, the clearing of her muddled head, the easing of her bothering thoughts.

But it never came, the relaxation she desired.

Instead, her fingers, for a reason mysterious even to her, fidgeted the diamond imitation bracelet that embellished her left wrist. A twitch unveiled a vague scar, a remembrance of an old episode entirely cleared off from her mind.

Flashback

Pooja was a Potterhead. An extreme one indeed. Sometimes the thought made her chuckle. How she despised the books once, presuming they were overrated. And then, as if a magic trick had been performed on her, she became the Maven of the Harry Potter club.

But being a Potterhead and having to live in a niche under the stairs did not go hand in hand. The room under a staircase was still a room under a staircase. And every day, her mind replayed the poem of curses to her, as if to warn her to never search for an apartment on a Facebook Group ever again.

And now she stood, waiting for the century-old toaster's ping, as sleep struck like pin-pricks on her eyelids, threatening to close them off. It was a bad day today, the phone battery drained, and she, coffee drained. And the cherry on the top? Today was the first day of her residence at the most prestigious hospital in the entire States.

Uff!

She yawned the hundredth time, sleep playing a tiring game of chess with her mind, and giving it a Check! every now and then.

I don't even know a goddamn coffee shop around in here!

Displeased grunts accompanied the thought as she took the knife and began slicing the apple she had been floundering around for quite some time.

One Slice, and Another, and Ano-

Snorr!

What an ability it was to fall asleep anywhere, in any position! What harm would a "Power Nap" of a minute or two do? Right?

AAHHH!

The scream came out in bits, first when her eyes fluttered open with the sudden pain. A pause followed when she actually looked at the source of it and after her eyes and mind registered what was happening, came the second scream.

She was getting the taste of just how profitable the power nap was.

Hurrying away, she rummaged around for a first aid box, failed to find it, trotted to her Harry Potter adobe and took out the medical goodies she had brought with her. After ransacking through it, she found the antiseptic and the swabs she was looking for. Then a faint sound came from the blinking cellular and she picked it up, not waiting for breakfast. Just as she clicked the unlock button...

HOLY SHIT!

What? How? Her mind could not register. The only thing she understood was that she was notoriously late for her first day, and now she would have to do all the running that she had avoided for all the preceding years.

Letting out another pained groan, she kicked two flowerpots on her way to the kitchen, took the toasted slices of bread, switched off the stupid piece of machinery and ran.

She was sure she would have come first in any marathon if she had run in them with the speed she was racing right now.————————————————————————

Did she know about Dolores Hudson? No, she didn't. Had she planned on telling about her to Dr Ramsey? No, she hadn't.

The two words had inadvertently slipped off her tongue, not envisioning it as an indication. But as soon as they reached his ears, it felt as if a domino had been pushed. One pushed on to the other, leading to a chain of events that had given no hints, no warnings at all.

And now she was in the NICU, chatting with the man whom she considered an idol, a role model as if they were old companions. It was an enchanting experience to see the intern-terrorizing gentleman, so ... normal.

She questioned her mind's choice of word, but she did not completely disagree. To see Dr Ramsey, sitting here with an intern, talking with her, for no particular purpose other than the fact that she decided to stay back here in contrast to any other person, who would have valued their sleep than watching over a premature baby with whom she had no connection.

When sleep muddled her thoughts, she didn't realize what she was doing. Head lowered into his shoulder in a motion that felt like a reflex embedded in the nerve cords of her spine. She missed the gentle smile, decorating the handsome face of his, as he watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyes holding an emotion unrecognizable.

Was it affection? Pride? Adoration? Or something completely different? Who knew.

But if there was something she did know after that day, it was that she felt lucky, damn lucky, for that slip of the tongue.————————————————————————

How idiotic of her the decision was, she didn't want to talk about it.

Pooja had only found herself running the way she was running now on the first day of her residence, and she had only herself, and no one else to blame.

Why did she think that giving up on the most wanted position for every medicine intern in Edenbrook for friends when every one of them participated in it was a good idea?

If only her brain comprehended her priorities appropriately, she wouldn't have to rush through roads like a person who was missing their train.

Panting, grunting, and completely tensed, she arrives at Edenbrook. Steps don't slow down until she arrives before the light beige door, huffs and puffs, not pausing for a split second. She doubted if her legs still had the power to walk or if she would have to crawl into the office.

Nah, no more embarrassment, she would not be able to bear it. With the power that remained in overworked limbs, she knocked, entered and gave her reasons for the delay. And then, by a margin of a minute, she signed the sheet, absolutely normal but still holding the power to twist her entire life in an unforeseen way.

But did she regret it? She couldn't, and she wouldn't.————————————————————————

Miami. The city of gorgeous beaches, giving the aesthetic of peach and teal life. The expensive marble-floored hotel rooms in which she found herself was unreal. Definitely not made for some random intern.

Gorgeous decorated interior, delicately manicured lawns, elegantly made fountains, all standing majestically, giving a fight to each other. She glided through the vast space, joy overcoming job as she breathed the calming salty air coming from the oceanfront, which appeared like a picture frame in front of her. She had never seen anything so perfect in her life.

It was like Ataraxia.

She preferred Mountains over Beaches. She always had, and without a doubt, she always will. But when something looks so heavenly, it would be absolute stupidity to forego the chance of visiting it, even if it contrasted her preferences.

Forgetting the not-so-pleasant interaction with Declan Nash, which appeared like a stone in her perfect day, she let her sensations delve into the delicious culinary masterpieces that melted in her mouth like wax.

All the merrymaking and socializing drained her. But the gentle talks, soft giggles that she shared with him, an extraordinary, priceless moment, seemed to charge her, rejuvenate her. A corner of her heart did hope for something to happen. But she hushed it, not wanting to spoil the casualness, the beauty of the simplicity that blew in the air between them.

It felt like existing in the setting of one of those Michael Faudet quotes, one of them particularly being emphasized by her mind.

"As our eyes meet, all-time seizes to exist. The dying second frozen like petals of red roses kissed by autumn frost."

Pooja's mind still reeled, falling freely into the void as passion and some unnamed emotion overtook them. His heart steady under the touch of her palm and hers racing under the touch of his. She would not be able to remove the unreal image from her idiot of a heart, even if she wanted to.

Sleep refused to come to her, even after calling it repeatedly. She sat up, relieving the memory, playing in front of her like a sepia movie on the silver screen. Eyes travelling around, only to fall on a bouquet kept neatly at one of the antique corner tables.

It was white lilies and purple orchids.

Pooja Sharma didn't know the language of flowers when she received them, with a tag casually signed as E. A vague tag like that did not help to know the actual sender. The man whom she kissed had a name beginning with E, the hotel she was staying in had a name beginning with E.

Hell, even the hospital she worked in had a name with the letter E.

But if she had known the language of flowers, she would have pinpointed the symbolism hidden in it.

The White Lily carrying the meaning of Purity, Sweetness while Purple Orchids a clear cut indicator of admiration and elegance.

She would have been able to tell which E had sent the delicately wrapped piece that now lay uncared for in the corner of her room.

Feelings overcrowded reason, and she found herself suffocated in the very room that seemed heavenly to her in the morning.

Slowly and silently, she walked away to find the solace which he or she could not give her, in nature.

Flashback ends

As the amaranthine ocean glistens, waves crash and the foamy water rushes to engulf her feet as she stood, hands wrapped around herself, she felt she had truly found solace. There was a spiral, an unending coil of memories, a string which, when pulled, tugged in emotions hidden in darkest corners, forgotten but related, all tied together.

It was surprising, enigmatic, how much the little brain of hers, the soft heart of hers, holds in them. A constant battle of reason and emotions ravage the tired battlefields of her body. How casually, reminiscences of a bygone day appears, flicker like the reflection in the mirror of the calm pond water, but remain clear through the ripples that spread on the surface from time to time. That's how memories work, still clear, still dear, even after passing through chaotic ripples of time.

As she reaches the end of the spiral, the helix of her thoughts, she finds herself even more astonished than she was when she reverted to the first pages of the memoirs of her stay in Boston.

It was just a minute, or a word or two. Always so insignificant.

Every ignored act added one upon another and resulted in the catastrophic mess of heartbreak and affection she found herself today.

The 2-minute Power Nap of her first day? It led to the 2-degree shift of the knife and the scar that her finger was tracing now.

That 2-degree shift led to the delay in her reaching the hospital?

It resulted in her meeting her mentor, which gave her the chance to do the thoracotomy with him, to experience how it felt when his hand enveloped hers.

Those two words that slipped as a nonchalant thought off her tongue? It was why she could know how Ethan Ramsey was, behind the tough exteriors, the short-tempered demeanour, how it felt to place her head gently on his shoulder, to wake up to his glowing face.

And that one minute past midnight, when she signed up for the challenge that would change her life? That is why she is here, hair ruffling and eyes glistening, the Leucos Moon reflecting on the glistening water, the crepuscule spread mystically around her. That is why she knew how it felt to be touched by him, kissed by him, to get lost in him.

When Edward Lorenz discovered the butterfly event, he had correlated mathematics and meteorology. Had he thought that the same butterfly effect had turned an unassuming intern's life upside down, pushed her so back in the void of circumstances that it was impossible to come back?

Just a 2-degree shift of a knife, and now she was here in Miami. Just like the unassuming butterfly's flap of wing, which now ravaged a storm through her life.

Glassy droplets make a slow trail down the curve of her cheeks and drop on the scar as if trying to meet the origin which has brought her to the coordinates of the present.

And even though she did not know what would happen in the days to come, she was happy, truly happy, for that shift of her knife and for the 2 minutes of the power nap.

For the butterfly effect of love.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010

Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @choicesbookclub

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sombreboy · 5 years ago

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Who’s your king?♕MYG

♕18+ nsfw ♕ pairing: king!myg x female reader ♕ genre: pwp smut, fluff ♕ word count: 2.5k ♕ warnings: smut, blowjob, power kink, worship kink, he has long hair lmao, throne fucking, unprotected sex/creampie, dirtytalk, some fluff ♕ A/N: I want to thank @chimoona for helping me out and supporting me when I couldn’t find the words because I lost sleep to get this done. I wouldn’t have been able to get this out without her, she’s the best. ily♡

“Does this please you, my king?” Your very words would be his undoing. King. My king. You said it like a prayer to the highest power.

‘‘Who’s your king?’‘

Your weight shifted between your feet as you stood in front of the man that owned every fibre of your being. It was just you and him, in his grand empty throne room, with the man himself comfortably seated on his throne.

‘‘You.’‘

‘‘Tsk,’‘ Yoongi clicked his tongue, the elbow resting on the armchair of his throne serving as leverage as he placed his chin on his palm. His feline-shaped eyes squinted slightly as his gaze pinned your feet to the wooden floor, ‘‘Don’t test me, princess… Try again.’‘

He knew you were quite the brat at times, and he loved it for the solemn reason of being able to put you back in your place. Which, in this case would be on your knees beneath him.

‘‘Hm..’‘ You played dumb, pretending to ponder on what words he possibly wanted, ‘‘Yoongi?’‘ you said his given name with a coy smile playing on your lips as you slowly rocked on your feet, hands clasped together in front of you.

Yoongi’s lips tugged in a playful smirk, an expression on his face that had never failed to practically melt your brain, unable to focus on anything but the growing desire for him to discipline you.

This was a game that the two of you would play more frequently than not. He thrived on the bratty attitude only you dared to utilize in front of him. The two of you were close, ever since he’d found you when he was on a stroll through his village months ago, hiding his face beneath a straw hat. He often stopped by your herbal tea shop to catch a glimpse of you, and after the third time you finally recognized the man that kept coming back…

However, It wasn’t until he’d stared up at you with his intense eyes, not to mention the prominent line of a scar that went from his eyebrow down to his cheek, that you realized just who it was. It was an immediate, mutual gravitation, you were his from that very moment, and he was yours.

The fact that he was the scarred king only proved just how much power this man had. He was rich, ruling the nation, and a flick of his wrist made an entire country bow so low that their foreheads scraped the ground to worship the shadow of his footsteps.

But out of all things, you were his most treasured possession.

‘‘You know better than to address me by my first name.’‘ He stated with a deeper voice, a few octaves lower than normal. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, whether it be to annoy you, or to verbally break you down into a needy mess.

He picked up the sword idly resting by his side. It didn’t make a single noise as he unsheathed it with one hand, using his other to beckon you closer.

You obliged, a few steps brought you to stand directly in front of him, looking down at his relaxed posture with anticipation. Even though you played with him often, you never knew what to expect from him.

There was no time to react when the sword suddenly cut through the air with a whistle, slicing the fabrics of your dress in the middle, causing it to fall to your sides and simply only hang on to your shoulders like a robe. He was skilled with the blade, and one wrong move would’ve without a doubt sliced your torso as well.

But you trusted him with your life.

You held onto the clothes falling off your shoulders, attempting to pull the fabrics back up to cover your breasts, but halted your movements once you heard his hum in disapproval. Glancing up at him, he wiggled a finger back and forth, his shit eating grin widening on his lips, ‘‘Don’t hide what’s mine to look at.’‘

A small smile tugged at your lips, you could tell he was already adjusting himself in his seat from the mere anticipation of seeing your naked body. He’s seen you countless times, but every single time he made you feel like it was the first time. Passion ignited in his eyes the very second you let the fabrics slowly slide down your shoulders until they pooled by your feet, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

‘‘No bra, hm?’‘ He cocked an eyebrow, pointing the tip of his blade to the hem of your underwear before cutting it with a swift flick of his wrist, not wasting another second to reveal your most intimate parts for him, ‘‘You really walked around all day…. around people, without a bra, princess?’’

You nodded coyly, arms instinctively moving to cover your breasts once more.

‘’What did I just say about covering what’s mine?’‘

‘‘Sorry..’‘ You let your arms fall limp to your sides, breathing in deeply to keep yourself collected. But it was easier said than done when the tone of his voice made your knees feel weak.

‘‘Sorry, what? Hm? Tell me.’‘ Yoongi pushed further, his gummy smile flashing for a second, making him seem so harmless. Just like any other guy, a soft grin that made your heart soften. But it quickly fell back into his stoic expression when you didn’t reply fast enough, ‘‘Properly address me by my title.’‘

‘‘My king.’‘ You meekly whispered, feeling your slick juices slowly seep down your inner thigh. He truly had such a powerful effect on you.

‘‘Excellent, my darling. Now we shall continue.’‘ He nodded, lips pressed together in a vague smile as he carelessly tossed his sword to the side with an echoing clang, ‘‘On your knees, please your king.’‘

He loved the title, especially when it came from your lips. The power he felt when you obeyed his wishes beat any command he could ever give to any person within the nation.

You dropped to your knees as soon as he spread his legs for you to settle in between. His elbow was comfortably placed on the armrest, resting his cheek against his knuckles while his fierce gaze was fixated on your every move.

He remained silent when you looked up at him, as he had already stated what he wanted from you. And he didn’t like to repeat himself.

You were thankful that his robe was already untied, making it easy for you to pull the fabrics to his sides, exposing his torso. Eagerly, you moved to the hem of his pants to pull them down just enough for you to be able to take his length out in your hand. You gave Yoongi another glance, he’s yet to say anything, unmoving, resting his cheek in his hand as he watched you with great interest.

But it was obvious that he wasn’t unaffected. While his face might show no signs of the way you drove him towards madness, his body couldn’t lie. The half hard length twitching in your grasp was the very proof itself.

‘‘Take it in your mouth, my darling.’‘ He urged, the stare in his eyes filled with an unsettling sense of power.

Without a word, you obeyed his command by guiding the tip of his cock to your lips, sticking out your tongue to give it a tentative lick, eyes on him for a reaction. But, the way he glared down at you proved that he was far from satisfied. A simple tongue job was not going to please your king in the slightest.

Even if he didn’t utter a word, the look he gave you was more than enough for you to know that he wasn’t in the mood for a tease. It was time to get serious.

It was easy to fit him past your lips as he wasn’t fully hard yet, swirling your tongue around it inside of your mouth to pleasure him to the best of your abilities. You began sucking the way you knew he liked it. As the wet sounds from your saliva mixed with his precum grew louder, as did your king’s pleasure.

His cock quickly became turgid in your grasp, his girth making it almost impossible for you to take him as deep as you wanted to. You let most of his length slide out of your lips, keeping the tip inside as you swirled your tongue in the crease below the head of his cock, savoring the musky flavor of a long day as the king. Once his length was properly lubricated with your spit, you leaned in to push him deeper past your lips once more.

This time, you were adamant to take all of him, aiming to please. You pushed deeper over the veiny expanse of his shaft until your nose met his firm abdomen. Wanting to please him further, you kept going, your nose digging into his pubes as you felt the head of his length and more pushing past your throat.

In the midst of the sinful sounds sucking him off made, you swore you could hear Yoongi’s pleasure in the form of breathy grunts. This was his weakness, and you knew it well, especially with the way his cock twitched in the back of your throat followed with his deep, vibrating moans gradually growing with every suck.

You withdrew from his heavy length, clearly feeling every single inch being ripped from your throat as you did so with another lewd pop. It wasn’t easy to please him, but you were determined to. He was more than just your king. His pleasure was so much more than just pleasure, it was your life and salvation.

You belonged to him, and he belonged to you.

‘’You’re doing so well, princess.’‘ He praised between heavy breaths, his unbothered expression threatening to crumble.

Between beleaguered breaths you forced his length down your throat again, over and over, never fully removing him from your soppy mouth. Pulling back once more to catch your breath, you wanted to make his patience of letting you breathe worth his while, lipping over the smooth head of his cock and swiping your tongue on it as if you were kissing him.

“You’ve done so well, my darling,” he praised through heavy breaths, petting the back of your head as he slides himself out. He’s close–unsure of how much longer he can last with you like this. “Need you to ride me,” he reclined a little, granting enough room for you to join him, “climb onto your throne.”

You placed your delicate hands on both sides of his seat and lifted yourself from the ground. Once you’re on your feet, your king guided you to straddle his hips and sink onto him right away with no preparation. Perhaps it’s for his own selfish needs, but he wanted to feel you wrap around him fully, paying no mind to preparing you. No matter–after the attentive service you gave him, you were already incredibly wet. He slided in with ease and stretched you for a comfortable fit.

He’d never admit it openly, but the way you wrapped your nimble arms around the back of his neck as you circled your hips made his heart beat faster. He ached to hold you closer, so he does it with vigor. He grasped tight to your fleshy hips and assisted you, groaning deep into the crook of your neck.

“Does this please you, my king?”

Your very words would be his undoing.

King.

My king.

You said it like a prayer to the highest power.

“Such a pliant angel for her master,” he huffed into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and lathing the rosy flesh with a soft tongue, “Do you hear that? Do you hear the way your tight little pussy takes my cock so well?”

You only gasped out your moans as a worthy reply to such a filthy mouth.

“That’s right, darling.” He held your hips with bruising force and lifts his own to fuck into you rapidly from below. “Listen to those sweet wet smacks filling my chamber, echoing off the walls. Do you like being filled by your king?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle the sultry sounds passing your lips, too reluctant to let anyone hear just how good he made you feel.

“Show me how much you like it. Let me hear you, nice and loud.”

He lifted your hips to slam down onto his lap, the skin of your ass slapping against his upper thighs. “Do it now or I’ll stop,” he taunted, knowing that’s just the words you need to give him anything he desires.

“I-I, my king–fuck,” your pitchy pants increased in volume the harder he thrusted into you.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Your thick cock feels so good inside my little cunt. Love riding you on your throne, imagining the room filled with all your loyal subjects.”

“What a filthy princess I have,” he stilled beneath you for a second, warming his length in your embrace to catch his breath, “You’d want others to see you in such a state? A sopping mess, tear-streaked, out in the open with your velvety walls crushing me?”

“Yes,” you simply replied, which seemed to be enough for him as he began humping into you as if his life depended on it. You sensed his urgency in his tensed muscles, burning hot against your bare flesh. He was desperately close and you were not far behind.

“This belongs to me,” he ordered, ramming into you, “Going to fill you until there’s no room left, going to show the whole kingdom you’re mine! Make you swollen with my heir and let every spectator know I fucked you long and hard, spoiling you for any man beside myself.”

“Cum inside me, Yoongi,” you breathed hotly against his neck, biting his pale skin and lapping the light bruises with your flattened tongue, “Claim me as your own. I want no one else.”

He pushed aside your defiant slip, referring to him by his first name. Instead, he pushed into you with a thrust so sharp he’s lodged as deep as you can bear, walls clenched around his length like a vice grip to hold him inside.

With a punishing nip to his tender neck, he groans his released out into the open, paying no mind to whoever heard his throaty moans.

“This is mine, now and forever.” It was a promise and a proposition all in one.

“Be my wife and I will fuck you like this, right here on my throne, until the day you die.”

It took not a second of thought to give him your answer, grinding your cunt onto his overstimulated cock to find your own euphoria. At the peak of your high, you told him what he wanted to hear.

“I accept,” you cried out your acceptance and pleasure in the same breath, “I’ll be your wife.”

“No,” Yoongi corrected you, shoving his cum back into you as it began to dribble onto his thighs, “You’ll be my queen.’’

You crashed your lips to his and released the remainder of your pent of lust into a breathless exchange. You rocked your bodies together to ride out what’s left of your orgasms, allowing the afterglow to take hold.

“My king,” you whispered against his lips. You pressed gentle kisses up his cheek until you place a final one over his scar, lingering for a moment, relinquishing your full devotion to every part of his being–the good and the bad.

“You have me at last.”

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x yn #suga smut #suga x reader #suga x you #suga x yn #yoongi royal au #bts royal au #bts smut #yoongi oneshot #king yoongi #agust d smut #yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #suga imagine #suga scenario #dom yoongi

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saffron-nova21 · 4 years ago

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XIX. Secret Tours

Remember Me Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language

A/N: I know, I’m so sorry about the lack of a read more, I might try to add one later, but currently, they aren’t working on my phone and my laptop is out of commission. I’m really, really sorry, guys.

...

With a sweet, but sleepy, smile plastered on your lips, you step away from the train with Atsumu, your bag slung over your shoulder, finding yourself excited to meet Tetsurō in person. You might not have known him for very long, nor had you met him in person yet, but all he’d been was a good friend to you. One you had come to need and depend on, with all that had been going on in your life. All of those lonely days, who had texted you and grounded you throughout all of it? Not your brother, not any of your team mates, no... It had been a stranger you’d met through Twitter, by pure coincidence.

He was the one who had knocked some sense into you to stop giving Rintarō chances. He was the one who talked you into telling Atsumu what had happened, rather than continuing to allow yourself to be manipulated. He had been the one to tell you that quitting volleyball club and practicing on your own would be best, with the way the other team members continuously made you feel like shit and gave you the cold shoulder.

When you spot he and his best friend standing there, the latter with a game in his hands, you nearly jump out of your skin as a jolt of excitement runs through you.

Looking at who who assumed to be Kenma, you found yourself touched that Kenma continuously glanced up to search for you, immediately getting the sense that he probably didn’t do that very often.

You end up walking towards them without a word to your best friend. Though Atsumu would tease you later on, saying you were borderline running to the two. When they caught sight of you, Kenma and Tetsurō go bug-eyed for a moment. Kenma’s arms fall a bit as his attention shifts to you, completely.

Both of them were quickly able to come to one conclusion: Any pictures of you did you no justice.

As you reach them, you stop just short of them, having to retrain yourself from leaping on them both... They’d been so good to you, it only felt normal to want to hug them.

“Hi,” you grin at them both, effectively breaking their momentarily stunned silence, your smile shining nearly as brightly as the sun.

A grin emerges on Tetsurō’s face as he shakes his head and offers open arms, to which you nearly jump in, hugging him tightly. Very quickly, he had become your anchor, being there for you and believing in you, when even your team lost faith in you and you could only hope your embrace conveyed all of the emotions that you couldn’t voice.

Hugging Tetsurō felt like hugging an old friend, or an older brother you never got to see. His embrace felt warm and it made this sense of security wash over you that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Ready to go?”

“Of - fucking - course I am!” Your voice attracts the attention of people around you and makes Kenma look back down at his screen, being knocked from his trance. He hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been stari — “I get to come and play volleyball with some of Tokyo’s best. Not to mention, Tokyo has some other-worldly pretty setters.”

Kenma doesn’t respond, his head just shooting up to give you a brief, almost confused glance look before returning his attention to his gaming device.

Though you don’t miss the reddening of his ears.

“Yeah, I meant you, Kenma, baby.” You grin, finally slipping from Tetsurō’s embrace to look at Kenma, who looks at you again.

Momentarily, the faux-blonde looks confused, before he lets out a small exhale, opening his own arms to you. Moving forward, you embrace him, without a care in the world that you hardly knew him. And as he rests his chin on your shoulder, you miss the slight smile that forms on his lips.

Pulling away after a moment, you allow Kenma back to his game, “You guys give some amazing fucking hugs. Just thought you should know.” You inform them, before turning to face an oddly quiet Atsumu.

You always complimented people a lot and borderline flirted with everyone around you, until you and Suna started dating. And now, you were back to being your normal flirty self.

Though Atsumu was the same way, consistently flirting with everything that breathed.

You both weren’t together, you’d just been flirting, putting your past feelings out in the open, and opening the doors to a relationship between you both maybe having a relationship one day.

There was nothing exclusive between you both, as far as you were aware. Not to mention that he was still talking up a storm with his fan club, just yesterday.

But apparently you were wrong.

...

You shouldn’t have been as excited as you were about touring Nekoma High. You’d be transferring for your final year of high school, leaving behind all of the people you’d met. Leaving, even if Suna could regain his memories any day now, leaving even though you and Atsumu had only just laid out all of your feelings out on the table, together.

As you approach the large gym, a smile forms on your face, eyes shining as if you’d just opened a present. Everyone around you could see the way you picked up your pace and held your head up higher, even if you didn’t quite notice it.

Entering the gym, you looked around, glancing at all of the people who looked towards you at your entrance. As much as you wanted to shy away from the attention, you couldn’t, just grinning as Tetsurō comes to stand next to you.

The realization seems to hit them, the teams walking over to speak and introduce themselves.

You were so caught up that you didn’t notice the way Atsumu watched you. Even though he introduced himself and conversed with his normal lazy smirk, he couldn’t miss the way you smiled.

For so many weeks, your smiles had been half-hearted. They hadn’t quite reached your eyes, and everyday, it seemed like you were dragging your feet, just waiting, wishing the days would come to an end. So how could he miss your first genuine smile in weeks? How could he miss the way your eyes lit up, while you looked around? How could he miss the way you spoke to them excitedly, without having to hold your tongue for fear of people attacking you for what you said? How could he miss the way you clicked so easily with these people?

That's the thing. He couldn't.

...

"I think you'll really like the people here, too. Of course, every high school can have a toxic atmosphere, but it hasn't really ever gotten half as bad over here as what you've had to deal with, in the past months." Tetsurō explains with a grin playing on his lips.

"Over here are some of our other clubs. I assumed you'd be signing up for the volleyball club, but in case you truly wanted a clean break, here you are." Reaching a hand to the bulletin, he pulls off one of the many sheets, filled with different clubs. "Do you want to look at the classrooms, or would you rather tour the courtyard?"

Thinking momentarily, you roll your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, "Honestly, you said it yourself, the Chemistry classroom was the most interesting and you already showed it to me, so the courtyard sounds best."

With a nod and a teasing smirk cast in your direction, a 'this way, your highness' came from your friend.

Walking to the courtyard with Tetsurō, you smile, "So... Kenma. He's... Interesting."

The Captain goes bug-eyed at your words, though it's hidden behind a curtain of messy black hair, from the angle you're looking at him. He quickly hides it with a discreet shake of his head. "What happened to that setter of yours, that you were so in-love with?"

Embarrassment floods you, your face growing warm as your bring a hand to rub the back of your neck. "What-?" Your feigned ignorance doesn't fly with your new friend, though, who makes you drop your 'act' with a knowing look. "Look, I love Atsumu... But am I in love with him?" You sigh. "I told him that it might be possible that I attempted to move on with him... But I know how he's going to take it, when I tell him I'm changing schools.

"I love Atsumu, I do... But I know him better than anyone else. Except for maybe Osamu. And knowing him so well means knowing that he's not going to want to accept it. He's going to think I'm abandoning him and lash out. Then he'll feel guilty, but won't apologize, because he's prideful."

Tetsurō furrows his brows, looking at you, "Then what are you going to do? Just not say anything when you disappear, next school year?"

Looking around, you smile a bit up at the bright blue sky. A few fluffy white clouds decorated it, but otherwise, it was nothing but clear skies. It almost made you forget the fact that Atsumu wouldn't be able to handle you moving schools. He'd nearly lost his shit when you had changed middle schools and the only way that he had kept his cool was knowing you'd be going to the same high school together.

"I don't know."

Tetsurō nods a bit in understanding, opting not to say much more on the topic.

As Tetsurō continued to give you the tour, neither of you noticed the texts from Kenma, warning you that Atsumu had left the gym in search of 'the bathroom' and hadn't come back.

And you would soon find yourself regretting not checking your phone.

Tetsurō honestly hopes that you and Kenma get along. He worries about Kenma, for after he goes to university, and knowing that he's leaving someone behind who will make sure Kenma takes care of himself makes him feel a lot better.

Atsumu wants you happy. But he wants you happy with him. Even if you're not dating, he knows distance can ruin friendships.

You know that you're attracted to Kenma - of course, you wouldn't call it a crush since you only just met him, but you do want to get to know him more.

I hope you guys are enjoying, still!

You guys better be eating some food, drinking some water, and taking care of yourselves mentally and physically. But remember, no matter what, I'm proud of you and I love you. You're doing great, today. Even if you just got out of bed, keep it up, because you're doing great, alright? Things will get better, I promise.

Taglist:

@kookie-doughs @halesandy @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @kac-chowsballs @saltylettuce @its-the-aerieljeane @javj @ash-levi @babyshoyo @hiraeth-z @random-fandom-girl-24 @kodzuklutz @tsukkiswifeey @thollandx @pandauniverse @starylust

#haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!! x reader #haikyū!! smau #suna rintarō smau #suna rintarō #suna smau

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 4 years ago

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Correspondence, Chapter 04

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary: An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Action-y in that there is offscreen violence and peril, injuries, talk of surgery and symptoms/effects of medical grade narcotics (morphine), more on that big ol’ age difference. Side notes: Agent Anderson of the L.A. field office has no relation to Agent Anderson of Quantico, VA, because Agent Anderson of the BAU is a national treasure. (I’m considering going back and renaming the OC, but as of right now this is the last we hear of him for a while). And I know no one really pays attention to them, but the time stamps on the texts match the time zone of the scene setting. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 8893

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

Chapter 04

Late September 2010

Spencer Reid wakes up to the early grey morning two weeks later, a perpetual haze shrouding his room long before his alarm was supposed to rouse him. He reaches blindly, blearing eyed and checks his phone for what feels like the hundredth time, only to find no messages waiting for him. A terrible, horrid feeling has been clawing at his chest and throat the longer it gets -- the more time that passes -- and he still hasn’t heard from Hotch.

They’ve been messaging each other near constantly for months now, and it only seemed to get more intense after that fateful talk at the beginning of September. Where Hotch finally revealed he’d thought Spencer was much older than him, and not the other way around. Spencer had set him straight, as much as he could, and even that had been nerve-wracking to say the least. The two men were crossing into a territory neither really wanted to put a label on, and Spencer was both afraid of it and excited by it. Of what it could mean, and how long it could last, but he’d thought he’d had time to figure out a solution to his inadvertent secrecy.

Then, Hotch began working a case in Delaware two days ago.

It seemed like a textbook unsub; maybe a little aggressive with anti-establishment overtones, but nothing they couldn’t handle. Nothing the BAU hasn’t seen before. They’d been closing in on the suspect, no location yet but some prospects that needed checking out, and the last Spencer had heard from Hotch…

It had been lunchtime for him, and midafternoon for the older man. The exchange hadn’t been anything of consequence, just their usual, easy correspondence. Hotch was going to check out that lead they’d spoken of, Spencer had a budget meeting as soon as he was done eating in the middle of his office hours, and they had a plan to play chess online that night. Hotch is still terrible at it, but he keeps coming back no matter how thoroughly Spencer wipes the floor with him. Now, sometimes they just forget about the game entirely after the first few minutes. It makes him smile each and every time, soft and fond and lighting a warmth inside him Spencer has… never felt before.

Then Hotch hadn’t messaged him the rest of the night.

Hadn’t shown up online to play chess.

Hadn’t texted him goodnight, or even sent him an update on the case.

Nothing in their conversations warranted such ostracization, and although Spencer has been ‘ghosted’ before (as his doctoral students would say) he knows Hotch would never do that. Not after everything, the history they’ve built the past months -- leaving nothing but the dread to sink in and spread like a stain.

All night, he imagines the worst.

By morning, he all but expects it.

[]9/22, 18:59[] Are you alright? Did something happen with the case?

[]9/22, 19:10[] If you were that scared of losing at chess, I can also beat you at online poker instead.

[]9/22, 19:30[] I’d suggest scrabble but that’s honestly not fair to you.

[]9/22, 21:55[] Hotch?

[]9/22, 22:30[] I’m assuming that lead panned out, and you caught your unsub and are neck deep in interrogation.

[]9/22, 22:36[] I don’t want to imagine anything else, so that’s what I will picture.

[]9/23, 00:06[] Hotch please answer me.

[]9/23, 05:32[] Please be okay.

Spencer arrives at Caltech looking a little more of a mess than usual. More than most are used to seeing him, at least, and it causes a few second glances from students he passes and other faculty -- but he really can’t find it in himself to care, this morning. His unruly curls, getting longer again, falling into his face and over his ears, are frizzy in their unkemptness. Bags under his eyes, normal, but he’s settled for glasses instead of his contacts. He has a spare pair in his desk, he’ll have to change them before class. His glasses somehow always make him look even younger. A mystery that boggles the mind, because once he had grown into his face a few years ago (around 26 or 27, close enough he had worried he would forever be cursed with a ‘baby face’) Spencer had thought he would finally be getting away from that.

And yet, square jaw and ‘grandpa’ glasses and thin frame towering just over six feet did nothing in the slightest to aid him. Certainly not stopping a man outside the campus coffee shop from shouting “Watch where you’re going, kid!” as he near barrels over him on the sidewalk. Not his sweater vest or half suits, attire straight out of a 1940’s noir film (he’d even sported a vintage inspired undercut with his waves combed over for a while there, too. Way too much upkeep, as nice as it looked). Nothing makes him any more grown up in the eyes of the unsuspecting world, than he’d been without his five doctorates and board of director’s seat. No matter what he tried, it seems.

This has been a subliminal thing for years, something Spencer always said didn’t bother him in the slightest. And for a long time he didn’t care one way or the other, he just kept getting more degrees. All his life Spencer has been ‘too young’, always been ‘kid’ or ‘sport’ or ‘tiger’, even when running quantum physics equations in his head. And it didn’t matter. Not with his credentials and accomplishments and everything he now has to his name.

Until Hotch.

Now, Spencer cares.

Notices, even through his haze of worry and sleeplessness, how on the street it’s “Watch it, kid!” and fifteen yards later it’s “Good morning, Dr. Reid” as he steps into the Physics building where everyone knows him on sight. Knows him, and what he’s capable of.

What if when Hotch met him all he saw was… another kid?

If they ever met.

“Whoa, rough night Dr. Reid?”

“Yes, you could say that,” he mumbles out as he signs in and scans his ID card, taking the stack of mail that the desk attendant hands him. But stops before he gets too far from the desk, backtracking. “Hey, have you watched the news this morning? Did anything show up about New England or Delaware?”

“Not that I saw, Dr. Reid,” she says in confusion, looking up from where she had been texting on her phone. “Just a whole lot of coverage on the shitshow at capital hill, as usual. Oh, and more depressing reports about the earthquake clean-up in New Zealand.”

Of course, why would there be a news story about a killer in Delaware here in California. He’d have to look up everything online himself.

“Thanks anyway, Carla.”

“No problem, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer spends way too long online that morning, searching for anything about the case Hotch and his team are working. He usually prefers paper copies of news media, at first barely knowing where to begin, but he falls into a wormhole of news outlets and local Delaware station websites, reading the thousands of webpages faster than he can scroll and click through them. But he can’t find anything pointing to a disturbance related to the case. There's nothing about a raid, or a shooting, or even an arrest -- which could all just be a part of the ongoing media blackout -- but it also does nothing to stop him from panicking. Spencer gives up after an hour, and diverts to other resources. Ones with a direct line to Hotch.

With a drafted email pulled up to Ms. Penelope Garcia, the BAU's personal tech analyst, he ponders how to... even word this without it sounding too personal. Too much like he and Hotch have more than just a working relationship.

Because they do. They have... something.

Something that gives him fluttering sensations in his stomach, makes him check his phone constantly, and react to even the slightest chime similar to his text tone. Makes him smile when he sees Hotch's name on his notifications, in his email inbox, makes him message the man in the middle of the day at the most random thoughts. Just because he wants to make him laugh.

[]8/21, 15:36[] You're going to get me in trouble.

[]8/21, 15:38[] You didn’t laugh in front of your team, did you? The scandal.

[]8/21, 15:42[] I'm at a crime scene. There's a dead body in front of me.

[]8/21, 15:43[] Then why are you checking your phone?

[]8/21, 15:45[] You know why.

But that’s not something that is shared with the rest of the team, he’s sure. So he should be careful how he words his email, lest Ms. Garcia realize that Spencer isn’t asking purely as a colleague.

Surely they know he has friends, though?

Chewing his lip, Spencer types out a brief email asking if Agent Hotchner is feeling well since he missed an appointment the night before and hasn’t been returning his calls. It’s a phrase he’s used often, so it comes naturally to Spencer as he types it out, and he realizes… he hasn’t called. He’s sent a dozen text messages, but not a phone call. Never a phone call. That was against the rules, the unspoken ones that always kept this friendship easy and free-flowing and evolving into something more.

But this feels like the closest to an emergency they’ve ever encountered before.

He looks to his phone beside him on his desk, and tries to fight back the dueling forms of panic clawing at his chest. Listed in bullet points behind his eyes. Panic that Hotch might not answer, panic what that means for the man he’s been… becoming more and more inclined to than any other person he’s met in so long. Panic if he does answer, breaking that barrier of written words to spoken, and the opportunity to hear Hotch’s voice. But he would also hear Spencer’s, and then there would be no hiding just how… how young he really is. He still didn’t have a plan for that, wracking his overworked brain day and night for a way to incorporate the information into a conversation that wouldn’t stop everything in its tracks.

But his phone is in his hand before he can stop himself, Hotch’s contact pulled up and his thumb hovering over the phone number with baited breath.

Was he really going to do this?

He presses the touch screen and can hear the line connecting, the dial tone ring even before he gets the phone up to his ear and waits. It rings, and rings, and rings a fourth time -- before clicking over to voicemail. And Spencer’s hyper-fast thought processes fail him as he realizes far too late that he’s going to hear Hotch’s voice for the first time, anyway. Frozen in a panic, unsure if he wants to or if that had been something he wanted them to do together that the seconds slip by like water through his fingers and suddenly it’s too late.

“You’ve reached the voicemail box of -- (703)-567-8790 -- this caller is not available. Please leave a message after the tone--”

It’s an automated, female voice that rattles off the numbers and generic call back message, and Spencer hangs up before it can begin recording him. Exhaling a shaky breath, relief a flash flood on his nerves that nothing had been ruined between him and Hotch thanks to an ill-timed phone call.

He keeps the momentum going without much thought, and adjusts his email to Ms. Garcia before sending it.

It feels so understated, and yet over dramatic the more he thinks about it. The more he reads it.

Please let me know of his well-being.

God, no wonder Hotch thought he was in his 60’s.

But Spencer has to keep the façade up, for now, not give away anything he doesn’t want to just because the emotional part of his brain is running rampant over the rational one. There are… many explanations as to why Hotch isn’t answering him. His gut feeling aside, he doesn’t need to be panicking like this. The world is still turning, he still has work to do, so Spencer tries to gather himself into some semblance of order and preps to talk to his doctoral students within the hour.

His morning routine progresses as usual, as if nothing at all is wrong with the world. Dr. Reid has his mandatory round up with his doctoral candidates going over thesis and dissertation parameters, class lecture schedules, updates, the works. Like morning announcements, but he requires them all to be there and to listen, and they all show up. Everyone knows of Spencer’s eidetic memory. He will certainly not forget a single date or schedule change, and he expects his students to not forget as well.

But this morning Spencer is fully distracted, his mind elsewhere, somewhere in the state of Delaware with an agent who may or may not be in danger. Because Spencer cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong. It almost seems more like a fact than a feeling. The juxtaposition of his daily routine and this unfounded worry throws him entirely off kilter, and all of his students seem to know right away.

Then, his distraction reaches its peak when his email pings, right in the middle of his department announcements. A response from Ms. Garcia of Quantico, VA flashing across his laptop screen. Spencer’s eyes skim the preview sentence in the pop-up box, and his voice trails off as his mind… whirls.

Dr. Reid, I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know when Hotch will be available again. There was an incident, and he’s still in surg-

Surgery.

That vice-like grip of worry that has taken hold of him since last night tightens further, to the point Spencer can’t breathe. Hotch is in surgery, Hotch is hurt, and if he hasn’t been answering his phone since last night -- or even late yesterday afternoon -- it was not a minor thing.

Hotch is hurt.

She doesn’t know when he will be--

If he will be --

“Dr. Reid? Are you okay?”

“I--” he’s still looking at the email pop-up box, and is clicking on it before he can stop himself. Immediately disconnecting his laptop from the projector as his email loads there. It takes him a fraction of a second to read the email. “I’m sorry, an emergency just came up. Kimmy, finish reading off the schedule for me?” He doesn’t even wait until she answers him, just picks up his laptop and retreats to his office as fast as his long legs will carry him.

--surgery and we’re still waiting on word. I know you 2 talk on the reg so I’ll keep you posted.

Fret not, genius professor, our fearless leader has been through much worse than this.

She’s using informal speech patterns, which she has never done before. It bleeds her nervousness, and worries Spencer even more. Teetering on the edge of panic. Ms. Garcia also revealed she knows he and Hotch talk, but surprisingly that doesn’t have the effect he thought it would on his already rattled nerves. Instead, any and all reservations fall away as he types out a response much in the same way he and Hotch had started their friendship all those months ago.

Please, is there anything you are allowed to tell me about the case or his condition? We --

Spencer pauses, bites his lip as he considers crossing this boundary into the uncomfortable unknown, and then thinks about Hotch on a hospital operating table three thousand miles away.

“Screw it,” he mutters and continues to type.

--We’ve become good friends and I’m very worried.

The reply is almost immediate.

That makes 2 of us, boy wonder, but I’m already hacked into the hospital records database and Prentiss is in the waiting room for any immediate actions.

I’m sending you the case files and the incident report from last night. Maybe you can see some shiz we can’t b/c the bossman is tough but he’s been in surgery a long time.

Of course, whatever he can do to help. Spencer’s heavy heart-beat triples in his chest as pulls up the files and immediately prints them out so he can read through them faster. Utilizing anything and everything he can do to aid the BAU team, and whatever Hotch has gotten himself into. But then, his mind sticks on something from the email. Boy Wonder. It stalls his hands mid-movement.

Ms. Garcia knows how young he is.

She must have done a background check on him, that would make sense since he’s been consulting so much lately. But why would Garcia know his age, and not Hotch? Wouldn’t she send the files to him directly? Had Hotch really known, all along?

Or did she do it on her own, and not tell him? Assuming her boss already knew everything about him. It’s too many questions and possibilities and they are interfering with what’s most important right now. Best to get it out of the way, no time to be indirect about it.

Ms. Garcia, did you update my dossier with the bureau after you ran my background check?

If you’re referring to why Hotch seems to think you’re rocking the senior discount at restaurants and not still getting carded for beer, then no I didn’t update it. I’m very anti-gov files having every detail of our lives in them, that’s what I’m for, and I figured there was a reason he didn’t know. Your secret is safe with me, sugar bean.

Spencer hadn’t meant for it to be a secret at all, it just happened that way.

The real reason is Agent Anderson of the LA field office is a dick, with a bully streak he never outgrew after high school, and didn’t bother filling out a full file on him the first time Spencer consulted for the FBI. Then, he couldn’t be bothered to update it when his consultations became more than a one time thing.

But that was all in the past now, and Spencer can’t even be upset about it. Because now he has Hotch.

Thank you, Ms. Garcia. I’ll let you know my findings soon.

He skims the file quickly, pulling information out at lightning speed. It appears a very straight-forward case. As straight-forward as a murderous sociopath can be, anyway. Very anti-establishment, like he and Hotch had discussed the previous day, aiming for specified targets that devolved to anyone in a uniform. Anyone who appears too official, or labels as official.

It’s easy to see, now, why the unsub attacked Hotch instead of running from him. He practically served himself up on a silver platter. But there’s something about the kills that’s bothering Spencer. The knife wounds, bludgeoning, even the gunshots during the first murders when the unsub still hesitated -- it’s all overkill. Rage. Every single target has died from massive internal bleeding, M.E. reports all label the knife wounds and beatings as the cause. But the amount of blood left over, measured during autopsy, doesn’t add up. They bled too much. No wounds indicating intentional bleeding occurred, and the tox screens are all clean.

Except, every victim’s hospital records show elevated potassium rates. Spencer’s hands, skimming down each and every page quick as they can, stop on a dime as his gaze zero in on the information.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whispers, quiet and horrified. “--Hotch.”

There’s no time for email.

He picks up his phone, goes to an older email that has full contact details in the footer, and dials Ms. Garcia’s direct line in Quantico.

“Speak, and behold greatness.”

“Ms. Garcia, it’s Dr. Reid,” Spencer says, and his tone and quickened speech patterns gives way to his panic.

“Dr-- Dr. Reid?”

“Yes, quick there’s no time. Do you have Hotch’s hospital records in front of you still?”

“Yes,” Garcia says, her voice a musical thing even in it’s breathless reaction to his heightened state of haste. “Updated every two minutes.”

“Is his potassium elevated?”

Some quick typing of keys that move faster than even he could ever hope to type. “...Yes.”

God. “Okay, okay I need you to call the hospital right now,” Spencer says in a spiel that all sounds like one word. “Whatever you have to do, he needs Sodium Polystyrene Sulfonate as soon as possible, to counteract the chemical imbalance or he’s going to go into kidney failure and bleed out.”

There’s more typing going on and Ms. Garcia’s breathing has gone a little labored.

“Alright, alright I’m getting patched through. What else can you tell me?”

“I think he’s been dosed with something called an XG Compound, either Eastman or Zhao I have to look up the specific components and chemist. But they are a series of banned, experimental military-grade drugs that suffer effects of thinning the blood, that’s why they can’t stop the bleeding around his stab wounds and old scar tissue.” Hotch’s old wounds from Foyet would only exacerbate the condition, once it reached the kidney failure stage, but up until then the intrusions of hardened tissue is the only reason his abdominal cavity hasn’t been flooded with blood and drowned out his other organs.

“Okay, okay I’m through, I’m keeping you on the line. Stand by-- ” then she clicks over and he’s left with a pulsating silence. Nothing remaining but continuing his work, and hoping he’d called in time. Hoping that Hotch will be alright.

Spencer is digging through his floor to ceiling bookshelves for the biology book on airborne pathogens given to him by a visiting Professor two years ago and he is hating himself for never cracking it in that moment. It’s nearly the last book he gets a hand on, because of course it is, and he makes it a third of the way through the book before Garcia is back on the line. The phone on the floor beside him and just barely within reach.

“You literal genius, I could kiss you,” Garcia tells him in what can only be overstated relief, and Spencer snatches up his phone with a very undignified scramble. “They’ve had to do two transfusions on him and are prepping a third, but you were right he’s been dosed with that XG compound.”

“He’s going to be okay?” Spencer asks, still cross-legged on his office floor surrounded by books and holding his phone to his ear like a lifeline.

“Yes, yes my dear he’s going to be alright. They think. He’s not out of the woods yet and the surgery is still going on, but he -- he would have died within the next hour if you hadn’t found out what was wrong.”

Spencer’s heart is in his throat, her words doing the exact opposite of reassuring him. Hotch had been that close to dying, to being forever out of reach, because Spencer had been too scared to pick up the phone.

“I should have called sooner,” he says, so quiet even someone in the room wouldn’t have heard him correctly. “I knew something was wrong.”

“Oh no, sugar don’t think like that. You just saved his life,” she pauses, like she wants to say something else, but diverts to an adjacent topic. “How did you know?”

“Autopsy reports. There wasn’t enough blood left in the bodies, they bled out too quickly. Then I saw the elevated Potassium,” he murmurs it all, rattled off without really thinking about it.

“And you just… knew all of that, without looking anything up?”

“That’s basically what I do. The only reason anyone calls me,” Spencer laughs but it holds no humor. “I know too much, make connections, and drink too much coffee.”

“You drink and know things, oh God I hope you get that reference because you’re getting a coffee mug.”

Spencer laughs a little, despite the situation, and feels… lighter, somehow, even with the worry still plaguing him. Caught up in his chest like a bad cold.

“I’m reading this textbook on airborne pathogens, I have a hunch, and I’ll send you anything I find that can help with the case,” Spencer continues, his voice not so heavy for a moment. “Just… tell me when he’s out of surgery? Keep me posted?”

“Of course, honey, you’ll be my first message,” Ms. Garcia assures him, but then she pauses again -- and he almost hangs up because it feels too anticipatory. “You should tell him, B.T.Dubs.”

Spencer hesitates more than is probably necessary.

“... I don’t know what good that will do,” he admits, quiet and unsure. “I’m not -- I’m not ready for this to be over.”

“You’re not that young, honey. Does he know you like him?”

“Mmhmm,” Spencer makes a nervous, affirmative sound. “And… he likes me, or who he thinks I am.”

“Don’t write him off just yet, Doc, let him speak for himself when he wakes up,” Ms. Garcia all but scolds him, in as gentle a way as possible and Spencer appreciates that, at least.

“--I’ll think about it.”

Not long after Spencer finds what he’s looking for: military grade poisons that were banned for causing adverse effects, listed and categorized by chemist and agency. It is the Eastman compound, originated during the first invasion of Afghanistan. Their unsub has prolonged exposure, Spencer is sure, and that will narrow down the suspect pool immensely.

After he sends the information to Ms. Garcia, Spencer looks to his phone once more, where there is a block of text all from him himself in his correspondence with Hotch. Begging him to be alright, to answer him, and now that he knows that the man has a fighting chance -- or as much of one as he will be able to have, with where advanced medicine resides in the current conjecture of time -- there really isn’t much he can do now. But hope. And wait. And pray.

Except Spencer doesn’t believe in prayer, or God, or anything that might hear him. The only thing he really believes in is science, and facts, and none of that is very helpful to him right now. Except maybe the coincidental balance of the universe, in a theoretical physics sense, and unexplained phenomenon that have an equal and spatial balance to it. Anything with the descriptor ‘unexplained’ always draws him in like a moth to flame, and he knows he can typically find a semblance of comfort in the way his brain constantly connects dots and far off specks of information that not everyone can see at first glance. Constellations in the sky. But only when he has someone to tell it to, that even pretends to listen for a moment, and for a long while now… Hotch has been that someone. Hotch always listens to him.

Before he knows it, he’s typing into the text box once more --

[]9/23, 11:10[] You’re in surgery still, but Ms. Garcia has confirmed the treatments are working and they are able to actually repair the damage instead of treading water like they have been the past ten hours. I’ve had her personally in contact with the doctors and surgical staff, and all they’ve been able to tell us is to let them work and just pray for you.

[]9/23, 11:13[] Which is such an odd thing; men of science telling people to pray like the outcome of a surgery isn’t in their hands, but some theoretical astronomical entity. I know it’s probably just a ‘bedside-manner’ tactic, but it doesn’t help me in the slightest so it just irks me instead.

[]9/23, 11:15[] I don’t believe in prayer -- a shock, I’m sure -- but I do believe in the phenomenon of universal affirmation. It’s an interesting trend in history and spans cultures where if someone has something awaiting them, to live for, even if they are unaware of it… they will fight harder to cling to life.

[]9/23, 11:18[] But I also know you will fight tooth and nail for Jack, and for your team that you treat like family, and maybe even me. I’d like to hope I’m included in that, and no amount of books or IQ points can make me think of something to contribute to help you keep fighting.

[]9/23, 11:19[] Just please keep fighting. Come back. And if I come up with something to entice you… I’ll let you know.

It eases a lot of the tension in his chest, talking to Hotch like this -- even if he’s just talking at him, in a place where he might never know what Spencer has had to say. But he can hope. Hope that Hotch will wake up and have thirty missed messages and see they are all from Spencer and it will make him smile.

Spencer would give anything to see him smile, and he allows himself to hope that one day... he might get to.

He might as well, while he’s sitting there hopelessly hoping for things beyond his control.

Come back to me.

Spencer almost types it out, can see it in the text window though he hasn’t pressed a single letter, and closes his phone before he can. Pressing it to his mouth and closing his eyes and just…

Hoping.

The hours roll over into the afternoon, and there’s still no word.

Spencer has spent the majority of the day messaging Ms. Garcia, who has had no information beyond trivial updates here and there and Spencer has read more about surgical procedures and practices than he has in his entire life. Even raided the biology department’s library, surrounding himself with the comfort of books and files and filled his head with the soothing monotony of medical terms and safety protocols.

But once noon has come and gone he finds himself staring into the bookshelves across from where he sits on the floor, among stacks of textbooks, with an epiphany trying to make itself known to him. Despite his every attempt to ignore it.

His phone is back in his hand, there’s an email correspondence from Ms. Garcia that only briefly says Still nothing. And that makes up Spencer’s mind.

[]9/23, 12:49[] I’ve thought of something.

What he types next makes it hard to breathe, his heart lodged in his throat, and it all comes flowing out of him much like before. His fingers keep moving, his emotional part of his brain steam-rolls over the rational one, and then he’s done and he’s tacked on six extra messages and Spencer has to put his phone away before he rereads it beyond what is deemed healthy or sane.

Because he’s done what he could, and all he can do is believe that will be enough to… subliminally keep Hotch fighting. The day is only half over, and Spencer feels like he hasn’t slept in a week.

It would be hours before he got the message that would send relief through his spine like a shot of Novocain. Just three words from Ms. Garcia, sent in haste in a text instead of an email.

{}9/23, 14:58{} He’s in recovery.

Hotch wakes up just barely the first time, the room spinning and hit with that familiar smell of anesthesia he can always taste as it fills his senses, before he slips back under.

The second time is to a small pencil light being flashed in his eyes, staccato movements meant to test his pupil reactions, and an older woman in nurse’s scrubs saying his name and calling to him. He hums an affirmative, even though he isn’t fully returned to a working state of mind. Instinct, more than clarity.

“Welcome back, Agent Hotchner.”

“About damn time,” he hears Prentiss say from somewhere across the room. Probably leaning the wall, if that faux drone is anything to go by. The nurse gives her a look but his agent isn’t even fazed by it, as far as Hotch can see. It takes him a moment for his eyes to adjust that far. But he knows the look well enough he doesn’t actually have to see it.

“Where is everyone? Is anyone else hurt?” Hotch can feel the words form on his tongue, droned out in a haze, his mind slowly coming back to him.

“Good to see you, too, boss,” Prentiss says in mild exacerbation, coming up to the side of his bed but not taking a seat. She must have been waiting a long time, her whole stance jittery just like after long flights on cases. “Everyone is fine, you’re the only one that got into a knife fight with an unsub who’s into biological warfare.” Hotch blinks at her, trying to make her words make sense without asking it of her. He remembers going to a warehouse to follow a lead, but not much else after that. It’s coming back too slowly to keep up with her. Prentiss just sighs, and repeats herself. “Everyone is fine.”

She regales him with a play by play, his own memories appearing like raindrops on a windshield to accompany her commentary. Slowly beginning to form a picture of what had happened. He’d been stabbed before, more than he cares to think about, and he’s been dosed with military-grade drugs before as well -- but never both at the same time. No wonder he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

“You’re lucky to be alive, honestly,” she points out, hip resting against the plastic side panels of his hospital bed.

“Yeah, I’m gathering that.”

“And your phone has been blowing up like crazy.”

Hotch is finally able to sit up enough and see straight without his vision swimming, to find that his agent does indeed have his cell phone in her hands.

“What?”

“Yeah, eight missed calls and three voicemails, and--” she squints at the screen before looking at him in astonished confusion, “eighty-seven missed text messages, from a whole bunch of people. I’m not reading through all of them. I didn’t know you were that popular.”

“I’m the Unit Chief, popularity has nothing to do with it,” Hotch deadpans, more himself. Wanting to reach for his phone but his arms are still dealing with pins and needles sensations, sluggish to lift and his fingers uncooperative. “Who called me eight times?”

“Let’s see,” she unlocks his phone -- somehow, god damn it Prentiss -- and scrolls through his notifications. “Two calls from Jessica, one from me, three from Strauss (Jesus), one from Dr. Reid, and one from Garcia. It doesn’t say who the voicemails are from.”

Hotch suddenly feels much more alert, his heart rate monitor picking up but he does his best not to draw attention to it, instead looking up at Prentiss as carefully guarded as he ever is.

“Dr. Reid called?” he tries to keep his voice even, and unaffected, but the aftereffects of the drugs in his system leave a little more hitch in his voice than he would have liked.

“Yeah, he’s been talking to Garcia,” Prentiss says without much comment, still scrolling through his phone and making Hotch a little more than nervous. “Busted the case wide open, and saved your life while he was at it. We never would have known you were dosed with something if he hadn’t figured it out. Think you owe that old man a fruit basket.”

“Can I have my phone back?”

“Don’t think you’re supposed to have it,” she says without looking up, still scrolling through his notifications. “Lots of junk e-mail…”

“One of those voicemails is probably Jack, I should call and let them know I’m alright,” Hotch tries to reason with her.

“He and Jess are already on their way up, they’ll land in an hour,” Prentiss tells him, but looks over her shoulder for that nurse as she makes to hand Hotch his phone anyway. Still hesitant despite her predilections to breaking every rule she can get away with.

“I still want it back,” Hotch insists, regretting saying it as soon as he does.

It catches Prentiss’ attention a little too sharply. “...why?” But at Hotch’s steady stare and solid silence, unwavering like he hadn’t just been in surgery for hours on end, she finally relents and hands it over, still giving him a suspicious look.

“It’s important,” he finally admits, when she doesn’t stop staring for a good couple of minutes. Those perfectly shaped eyebrows raise near to her hairline, the profiler in her connecting more dots than should be humanly possible.

A small smile teases her lips, though not fully forming there. “Now I wish I’d read them.”

Hotch just gives her a reprimanding look of his own, but it’s short lived.

“Thank you, for staying.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Prentiss assures him, her smile going softer. “I’ll leave you to your mystery woman.” A beat, another raised eyebrow. “Person.” A knowing look, but then she exits and Hotch is able to look at his phone at his own discretion.

Hotch goes through the text messages with a brief glance; there’s so many of them. Other agents and agencies, his team in a group chat Garcia had started, Jessica left fifteen before someone got a hold of her, and Jack’s school sending reminders about soccer and parent teacher conferences.

But 39 are from Spencer, and his heart constricts in his chest at the worry he must have caused the man. Aches next to the scars on his chest and the blood that doesn’t belong to him in his veins. And somewhere in the recesses of his mind, it’s coupled with a torturous feeling of longing. Even subtle jealousy, because even half drugged out of his mind Hotch hadn’t missed the precise word choices Prentiss used. Garcia has been talking to Spencer -- talking.

Garcia got to hear him.

She talked to Spencer, when he still hadn’t, because of some unspoken rule Hotch isn’t even sure when they decided upon. He still knew so little about the man, and Spencer’s voice could tell him so much with just a few words. He could fill volumes with what he would learn from just a single message --

Without much further thought, Hotch pulls up his voice mail. Listens to the automated voices and the three messages there. None are from Spencer, although his heart had beat a little harder in anticipation -- enough his heart monitor beeped audibly next to him. Embarrassing as that was, like a lovestruck teenager. He’d glared at it and centered his breathing until his heart rate slowed back down, not wanting to alert the nurses station. Two of the voicemails are from Jessica’s phone, one of her worried out of her mind, and the other of Jack telling him they are coming to see him and he hopes he feels better soon. Just listening to his son speak more strongly than his aunt had or anyone else should in his situation, telling his daddy he loves him while the sounds of a commercial airline filter through the background, makes Hotch want to smile and sob all at once.

The last voicemail is from Garcia, telling him a similar story to what Prentiss had earlier, but with a bit more detail on her end. How ‘Dr. Reid’ called her out of the blue, because there had been no time for his usual emails, and gave them the information that saved his life. He’d been working the case diligently, ever since, and was checking up on him a lot. More than a lot. ‘Let him know you’re okay, when you wake up and get this. The poor guy is worried sick, and my updates only give him so much comfort.’

Spencer had actually called Garcia, when he hasn’t physically spoken to anyone in Quantico the entire time he’s consulted for them, just to save a few precious seconds to relay what he’d found. He’d even broken their rule, probably before hand, and called Hotch -- just to make sure he was okay. Hadn’t stopped working to help, the moment he found out he wasn’t.

It’s a strange thought, that if not for Spencer -- Hotch would be dead. That Jack would be flying up here for a very different reason.

Hotch switches over to the text messages with a lump in his throat. Not at all prepared, emotionally, but needing to know.

The 39 messages start from the night before, when they were supposed to have had their usual online chess date. They range from playful banter, teasing edged in worry, and escalate to panic as the night wears on. Anxious worry bleeding through the single sentences, building and building until that lump in his throat feels like it might block off all air soon.

Please be okay.

God, that alone starts to set a tone -- and reveals something Hotch hadn’t expected to find. Those three words give way to his speech pathology training, and all indicate that Spencer is… very likely younger than he’d originally thought. Some of Hotch’s assumptions might be close, even the teasing ones he’d only said because he’d been sure they were wrong. The other man is obviously beyond worried about him, as well. Petrified, despite knowing the risks of his job. They had become so close the past few months, were most definitely past the flirting stage and into something so tentative and wonderful Hotch can barely believe it some days. But they had never talked about this, about the possibility that Hotch might walk into a situation one day and not walk back out of it.

Spencer’s messages soon give way to him just… talking at Hotch. Relaying what was happening, philosophical rants meant to ease his own mind and Hotch finds himself smiling softly at the man’s constant stream of thought, lectures at genius levels that he still feels so compelled to share with Hotch. Because they are that close. They really, truly, are -- and it brightens the fluttering feeling in his chest all the more. How Spencer is trying, subliminally, to draw Hotch back to the light. Three thousand miles away.

Please come back.

Hotch hears it loud and clear, the come back to me. Even unwritten. And it makes his heart skip a beat, aching as it does.

Then…

[]9/23, 15:49[] I’ve thought of something.

[]9/23, 15:52[] I’m 29.

Hotch doesn’t understand, at first. But then it hits him.

Years.

29 years.

Spencer is 29 years old. Proven, further, by the following messages sent after that.

[]9/23, 15:56[] I’m a certified child prodigy, on a registry and everything. I graduated high school at just twelve years old, and had my first Ph.D. by 15. Youngest in CalTech history.

29.

Jesus Christ, no wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell Hotch his age. 29 is… far younger than he expected.

When Spencer was born, Hotch was getting his driver’s license. 16 years difference in age…

He keeps reading, despite the numb aftermath of a bomb going off inside his head, trying to process it and also hear the younger man out.

Younger. Spencer is 16 years younger than Hotch, and he finds himself scrubbing at his face to try and wake himself up further as he reads what Spencer sent.

[]9/23, 15:57[] I turn 30 at the end of October, and I was trying to wait until then to tell you.

[]9/23, 16:00[] I’ve noticed a prominent dynamic shift in perception, between listing my age as in my 20’s and ‘almost 30’. It’s a numerical allusion our brains can’t help. You hear 29, you think 21. It happens with decades, too, once someone is outside the familial range of 10 years. +/- either side.

[]9/23, 16:02[] An age gap doesn’t sound as bad when I’m 30. That’s why I wanted to wait, just a little while longer, but if that universal affirmation phenomenon actually works for us -- I don’t mind dealing with the consequences.

[]9/23, 16:03[] Just please come back.

[]9/23, 16:07[] Please be okay.

[]9/23, 16:10[] I miss you.

His heart is about to be ripped to shreds.

Hotch feels terrible, because Spencer is right. 29 sounds so young, and it keeps repeating in his head over and over. But 29 isn’t the same as 21, he isn’t some college student still stumbling around trying to figure out his life. He has five Ph.D.’s, runs three departments at one of the best universities in the country, is consulted by the FBI and Homeland Security and very obviously has a reputation he upholds to the highest regard. Hotch had guessed Spencer was 32 not so long ago, what was the big difference between that and his actual age? From what little Spencer just shared of his life story, he’s never gotten to be a kid, so who was Hotch to consider him one? What gave him the right to be floored by this, did it actually change what he thought of Spencer? How he felt about him only moments prior to reading that?

I miss you. Come back. Please be okay.

I’m 29.

It could be the recent flirtation with death, the anesthesia or the morphine, even the gratitude that Hotch will get to see his son again and not leave him without both his parents -- there’s so many reasons for him to take pause as he considers the messages in front of him.

But it feels a lot like the months of talking, and the countless late nights spent together, that pile up and up in his chest. A rising pressure that reminds Hotch that he and Spencer have something, and it’s not a normal, regular situation for either of them. Something that precedent, and everything Hotch has ever been told to hold to standard, doesn’t seem to fit. He and Spencer don’t seem to fit, when looked at afar or even on paper -- but they do. They really do. It was never supposed to be something that could be this easy, or normal in any capacity.

But what about their lives ever was?

[]9/23, 18:26[] I’m so sorry I worried you.

[]9/23, 18:26[] I miss you, too.

[]9/23, 18:27[] If I stop answering you, the nurse took my phone away. I hate hospitals.

[]9/23, 18:29[] Hotch, you scared me to death.

[]9/23, 18:30[] I know, I’m sorry.

[]9/23, 18:31[] From what I heard, you saved my life.

[]9/23, 18:33[] I don’t even know how to begin thanking you for that.

[]9/23, 18:36[] Just get better.

[]9/23, 18:38[] Which means resting, don’t glare at your nurses too much. They’re there to help you.

There’s a long stretch of a pause in their correspondence, which picks up so smooth and easy it’s as if they had never stopped. Like the last few days hadn’t happened at all. But they had, they were both looking at the messages to prove that. He does take pause, maybe more than he should, and Hotch knows miles away Spencer is just as nervous. Staring at his phone.

Hotch isn’t wrong. Spencer let out such an exclamation of relief at Hotch’s name on his notifications he about sobbed with it. He never cries, hasn’t in years -- but his eyes sting with relief and worry and… an emotion he doesn’t want to name.

[]9/23, 18:44[] What day is your birthday?

[]9/23, 18:45[] October 28th.

[]9/23, 18:45[] Same week as mine. November 2nd.

Hotch pauses, again, considers his next response… and 3,000 miles away Spencer can barely blink as he stares at his phone with mounting dread.

[]9/23, 18:49[] I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. It’s alright.

[]9/23, 18:51[] Am I correct in assuming you’ve never been in a relationship with this much of an age gap?

It takes Hotch a moment to even gather the courage to type that out and send it. Knows it sounds almost too formal, for them, but Hotch also knows that he and Spencer are balanced on the edge of a knife, here, and… no matter what the outcome, everything is about to change between them.

Spencer licks his lips in nervousness, reading the line over and over although he has no need to. It feels like a tipping point, and he’s still… terrified this will be his last conversation with Hotch outside of case work. Ever.

[]9/23, 18:55[] Never.

[]9/23, 18:57[] I haven’t had many relationships at all. My peer groups have always been older than me, and people my own age never understood me enough to be interested. So it’s just something I was used to, going without.

[]9/23, 18:59[] This has been… the closest thing to what I’ve been told is normal that I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never had the chance to have something like this with someone, or connect in this way. I gave up, for a long while there.

[]9/23, 19:01[] I’ve been in a similar situation before, on an intellectual spectrum.

[]9/23, 19:03[] I’ve never--

Hotch pauses, again, putting his thoughts in order. Weighing it all, before taking that final leap. Spencer waiting with baited breath, all the more.

But Hotch doesn’t regret what he sends. Not one bit.

[]9/23, 19:03[] I’ve never dated anyone younger than me like this, before, so we’ll both be on a learning curve.

[]9/23, 19:03[] But we will figure it out. Together.

Spencer’s breath catches, and he can’t seem to release it again. He can’t believe what he’s reading. What Hotch has sent him.

He said ‘dated’.

He thought they were dating. Spencer isn’t quite sure he can trust his own eyes, despite the words being there in stark black and white on his phone screen.

[]9/23, 19:06[] Dating?

Hotch smiles, because he just knows -- from that single word text -- that Spencer has sent it not in admonishment or anything negative of the sort. But in hope. Confident that he recognizes the nuance in Spencer's voice even without ever having heard it, Hotch just knows, and it makes warmth blossom anew in his chest. Sends his heart rate monitor skittering across the machine all over again.

[]9/23, 19:08[] Hate to be the one to tell you, but all of those late nights where we talked for hours instead of playing chess? Those were dates.

Spencer has his hand over his mouth, still in disbelief that he hadn’t… fucked this up beyond repair. That his age hadn’t been the deal breaker he’d feared so vehemently for months now. That everything is still as it was, age difference and life-threatening situation, aside.

They were dating. All this time.

[]9/23, 19:10[] I should have worn nicer clothes.

Hotch laughs at his phone at the same time Spencer laughs at his own, having reread what he’d sent.

3,000 miles away, and their quiet laughter coincides perfectly.

[]9/23, 19:11[] Our next one I’m sure I’ll be in a hospital gown, so I think you’re in the clear.

[]9/23, 19:12[] Sounds like you’re making plans, already.

[]9/23, 19:12[] You still need rest.

[]9/23, 19:14[] Well, I have to thank you somehow. And, I saw something about poker instead of chess? I’m actually not bad at poker.

[]9/23, 19:15[] … you remember I’m from Vegas, right?

[]9/23, 19:16[] We’ll play for fake money.

[]9/23, 19:18[] No such thing.

[]9/23, 19:19[] I do play for favors, though.

[]9/23, 19:19[] Oh?

Hotch feels a wild, youthful thing unfurl in his chest as he types away. Mischievous, almost, in a way he only gets when he and Spencer are hours deep into conversations in the middle of the night. But it’s broad daylight, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too wide. Getting lost in the thrill of it all. In the officiality of it, now, and another curtain unveiled between them.

[]9/23, 19:20[] Did you have something in mind?

Spencer has to be blushing seven shades of red, right about now, and he hides his face from his phone for a moment before he realizes how ridiculous that is -- Hotch can’t see him. He can stop messaging the man any time he wants to.

Except he doesn’t want to.

[]9/23, 19:24[] I’ll get back to you.

Hotch can’t help it as he grins at his phone. A wry, suggestive thing, but he manages to school it before a passing nurse can see him -- how his eyes are alight with possibility. With elation, just from talking to the younger man that had seemed to capture a part of him he thought wasn’t available to anyone any more, and types out one last -- slightly more flirtatious subtext to put a cap on their conversation. To indicate he’s awaiting more, always wanting a little more of Dr. Spencer Reid.

He can blame it on the morphine, later.

[]9/23, 19:25[] Looking forward to it.

(tbc...)

Tagged List: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

#I legit added like 1500 words while editing this afternoon so I'm hella worried it's convoluted but HERE IT IS #Getting this show on the ROAD #cross your fingers and pray I have this damn tumblr formatting thing figured out #hope you enjoy everyone I love ALL OF YOU #super duper long chapter #Correspondence #HotchReid #Heid #Updates on Saturdays hit me up if you want in on the tag list #katyswriting

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bffsoobin · 4 years ago

Text

Just One Day

↳ being the extraordinary Choi Yeonjun’s ordinary ex girlfriend had begun to feel like nothing more than a fun fact the longer you two had been apart. He had gone to Korea to chase his dream, and you had all but forgotten about the way he made you feel. When Yeonjun calls and explains he’ll be back for a day, do you go for it?

➤ fluff, angst, smut, idol!yeonjun x ex girlfriend!reader

Word count: 5,313

Requested?: yes

Warnings: This includes (badly written) mature content! Please do not read between the illustrated borders if you’re under 18 or uncomfortable! Smut warnings include: unprotected sex (don’t do it!), some dirty talk, slight male masturbation. General warnings include:swearing, awkwardness, slight pining, self doubt, mentions of crying/heartbreak, Yeonjun is a sly little shit, Feelings, me not editing or proof reading, me not keeping a very good time line for the story (how long ago did they date? How long were they together? What era are txt in when this story takes place? I didn’t bother to specify so feel free to let your mind run wild)

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

It felt weird seeing the Snapchat memory pop up. A younger you smiled back through the screen, hair messy from the wind. Even weirder is the sight of a younger Choi Yeonjun, cheek pressed right against yours and a wide smile taking over his face. You hadn’t forgotten him, there was no way you could, but you had certainly forgotten this day. This date. The two of you had spent the day at an amusement park, skin turning red under the sun as you rode every attraction the park had to offer. As you clicked through the memory, you found a video you took of him dancing next to the picnic table the two of you ate overpriced fries and pizza on. The sound of your own laugh made you smile. You had really been so happy. So many happy memories with Yeonjun cropped up in your mind. All of the movie nights, walks along the lake, lunches and mini golf dates flooded you.

With the happy memories also came the hurt. The countdown to the day he had to leave for Korea, knowing nothing would ever be the same again. You had blocked out so many bad things, but one you could never forget was the night before he left. Since he was leaving so early in the morning, you had come to sleep over so you could be sure not to miss saying goodbye. As the night fell, you clutched onto his shirt and begged him not to forget you. It was pathetic how much you sniffled and sobbed into the thin fabric and pleaded with any entity listening to keep Yeonjun in your life. He had cried too, although you never noticed. The sound of your sobbing consumed his senses as the two of you laid down in his bed and he knew he could do nothing but hold you until you fell asleep. When the heaving and shaking stopped, he looked down on your swollen, tear streaked face and began shaking with his own silent sobs. He loved you. You loved him. But that love wasn’t enough to keep the two of you together in the way you wished. Yeonjun didn’t sleep that night. Instead, he watched you sleep and pretended everything was okay. Pretended he wasn’t leaving you behind minutes after sunrise.

That night is one of your very worst memories. You threw your phone to the side, rubbing your hands over your face to reduce some of the weight laying on your shoulders. A hot shower was definitely in order to relieve some tension in your muscles.

Your worries washed down the drain with the scalding water. With a clearer mind you were able to push the sad memories of years past back to the dark corner of your mind where you left them originally. The rest of your day was normal, save for the fact that you felt as if the selfie of you and Yeonjun you had seen earlier was permanently tattooed behind your eyelids. At every spare moment you had you were thinking of him. The Yeonjun you had fallen in love with way before he had millions of other people following his every move. You had neglected to keep up with his actions many months ago when you decided that there was no point in mulling over a guy who would never come back to you.

And given the general lack of interest of kpop harbored by your family and friends; it wasn’t hard for you to reduce Yeonjun to nothing more than a boyfriend who had to move far away. Most of the people in your life now didn’t even know about the years old relationship, anyway. You had decided it was much better that way.

Your day was boring, to be totally honest. You had dedicated the day to cleaning, but your small apartment needed less attention than you originally thought. By 6:30pm, you had already made and eaten dinner and started yourself on a marathon of Hunger Games movies. Right in the middle of Katniss’ adventures in the 74th games; your phone began to vibrate against your thigh with a phone call. The number came up as unknown, and you didn’t recognize the area code as a local one so you let the call drop. Katniss was mourning the death of Rue when your phone vibrated again. This time you saw a voicemail from the mystery number. You were confused. A little bit annoyed at the intrusion, but mostly really confused. Usually scam callers didn’t leave messages, and everyone else that was important to your life was in your phone as a contact.

What the hell, you thought. Just listen to the voicemail and see who it's from, you can always delete the message and block the number later. Disregarding Katniss’ heavy breathing, you clicked on the notification and pressed your phone to your ear. There were a few seconds of silence and some shuffling that made you think it was an accidental butt dial to a very wrong number until a clear voice broke through.

“Hey, Y/N. I know this is super weird but-“ you dropped your phone out of your hand as if it had bitten you. You knew that voice. Yeonjun. What the fuck? With your phone left forgotten on the couch you nervously walked around your apartment. What did he want? How did he get your number? Why was he calling you?

After some self convincing and a cold glass of water, you decided you would get all your answers if you’d just finish listening to the damn voicemail. This time, you listened closer and in the silence of the beginning you could hear some faint Korean that made your blood run cold. This was for real. Yeonjun’s voice crackled through the phone again.

“I’m, uh, in the US right now. LA, actually. We just landed like an hour ago and I though of you- is that weird?” He cleared his throat, “I have a day off tomorrow and I was wondering if you’d want to meet up? If you don’t, it’s okay.” A heavy sigh and some more shouting of Korean in the back. “But if you do, we can meet at 10am at that breakfast place you like? I looked it up, the one between the library and the corner market we used to go to? Okay. That’s it. Um, bye.” Even after the end of the message you kept your phone pressed to your ear, in total disbelief of what you’d just heard.

Numbly, you unpaused the movie although none of the horrors of the Games stirred you like normal. The only thing you could focus on was whether or not you should go meet Yeonjun in the morning. What did you have to lose? Other than a little pride if he stood you up or something of the sort, you couldn’t think of much. You could easily catch an Uber there in the morning. But would it be weird? You knew the other members would be with him, but how much did they know? Your nerves made you queasy. The option of not going at all seemed more and more appealing with every passing moment.

You played the movie again, watching but not processing any of the presented images. You wanted to talk this out with someone, but no one really knew about your time with Yeonjun and the situation was way too far fetched to be boiled down to hypotheticals for a friend. Twenty minutes must have passed with you mulling every little detail over in your head. The movie had ended without your knowledge but it didn’t matter anyway. You were already in your bedroom, computer open to YouTube. Skimming your fingers over the keys, you gave the universe time to stop you. To make someone knock on your door, or your mom to call you, or for the power to go out; but nothing of the sort happened. You typed in “tomorrow x together” and shut your eyes as if it would change anything.

Pages of videos- both official and fan made beckoned you down a dangerous rabbit hole. One where you began to miss Yeonjun all over again. He had grown a lot since the last time you had seen him. He was taller, broader. HIs jaw was much more defined and he had taken to wearing jewelry all the time. Side effects of becoming an idol, you supposed. None of those details hurt more than the fact that his personality seemed unchanged. Amplified, yes; but he was still the same goofy, clingy and heartfelt boy you had fallen in love with years ago. You watched the way he interacted with the other members and you felt your heart swell with joy. Some small part of you was worried that pressure and fame would change him but you were amazed to see that was not the case.

Autoplay took it upon itself to load up the next video for you. You felt oddly warm at the idea of seeing even more content; this time through the lense of an adoring fan. A title flashed across the screen in a handwritten font: “Best of Choi Yeonjun”. Edited video clips of him singing, dancing and playing around with the other group members flashed before your eyes. You couldn’t help but lull yourself into a state of comfort upon seeing and hearing him so much. In the back of your mind, you knew you had already silently decided on meeting him tomorrow. You closed your laptop with a renewed excitement before you began to get ready for bed.

When you woke up there was still an hour before your alarm was even set to go off. Despite the early hour you were wide awake as if your nerves had been connected to a live wire pumping electricity through you. There was no grogginess in your eyes, and if it wasn’t for the jumble of nerves in your gut you could have believed you were going to have a perfect day. Your mind stalled at the reality of facing Yeonjun in just mere hours. You think you dreamed about him last night; in some weird, hazy fashion where you can’t remember much other than his presence. Vague details swarmed through your mind throughout the entire duration of your morning routine. Even though you had just showered the night before, you took another one to pass the extra time and take the opportunity to shave as well as you could in the dim light of your bathroom. You were oddly aware of just how quickly your heart was beating through the whole process. The drumming sound in your ears became second nature by the time you stood in front of your closet.

Suddenly, the extra hour your body had subconsciously given you became a blessing as you decided that you had absolutely nothing to wear. The outfit you had planned during your shower looked much worse in real life than you ever would have thought. It was almost as if the open drawers were mocking you, laughing about the fact that you were so nervous about meeting Yeonjun again that you couldn’t even pick out an outfit. You shuffled through all of your hangers multiple times, slipped different dresses and pairs of jeans on until you settled on something that you decided would be good enough- especially with the time of 9:10 am glaring back at you. With the consideration of morning traffic, you needed to be out of your apartment as soon as you possibly could. It was sort of embarrassing how sweaty your palms were as you locked up your apartment door and requested an Uber. Luckily your driver came so fast that you didn’t really have time to dwell on just what you were about to do. Even the ride there gave you no time to overthink, as your friendly driver made polite conversation that you felt bad for slacking on.

You stepped out onto the sidewalk after stalling for as long as you possibly could. The breakfast spot was surprisingly unpopulated compared to the rest of the stores, but just as quaint and adorable as you always remembered. Yeonjun used to live over this way so the two of you frequented the family owned restaurant so much that all of the servers knew your order. Your heart felt as if it was permanently stuck in your throat with the knowledge that Yeonjun was just steps away from you. A few bystanders eyed you suspiciously as you tried to work up the courage to enter the building. Fuck it, you thought. There was no way to avoid this any longer.

The hostess working the front stand seemed to notice your nervous disposition. “Can I help you? Just one?” Suddenly the back of your neck felt warm under her questioning.

“Uhm actually, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here.” The hostess nodded politely.

“Oh, can I ask your name? A man here said he was waiting for a girl to come meet him,” she shuffled a menu around on her podium.

“I’m Y/N,’ you supplied meekly. The hostess’ face lit up as she waved to you to follow her further into the restaurant. The layout was familiar even though the decor had evolved over the last few years. At a corner booth sat Yeonjun with his fluffy hair, intently examining the menu as you approached. The hostess announced your arrival and left in the blink of an eye.

“Yeonjun,” you whispered, totally caught off guard by the sight of him actually in front of you. He rushed out of the booth seat and immediately squished you into a tight hug.

“Oh my god,” he laughed, pulling back to examine you once again before you both sat down on the vinyl seats. “I don’t know what to say, I-” he rubbed his hands over his face, “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.” You just stared at him for a second, waiting for the cogs in your brain to start up again.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come either. But I’m glad I did. I just saw old pictures of us from when we were dating.” It felt so foreign to hear that phrase coming out of your mouth that you almost flinched. Yeonjun’s face softened and he opened his mouth to speak just as your waiter sidled up to the table. He took your orders, and you couldn’t help but realize that you had both ordered your regulars from years ago. Yeonjun picked at his nailbeds for a second. There was so much to talk about that your mind could not settle on a single thing.

“I just wanted to say,” Yeonjun’s voice startled you, “that I’ve missed you a lot. I feel awful about the way we left it, and as soon as I heard we were coming back to the US I had to try and make time to meet you. Unfortunately I only have this one day off so I was hoping you would want to see me too,” he couldn’t contain the smile that grew on his face; the one that hadn’t changed since the last time you ever saw him.

“Of course I wanted to see you, Junnie,” the nickname was automatic and made him crinkle his eyes up happily, “I’ve missed you too.”

It was almost unbelievable how easy it was to fall back into conversation with him. The food was just as good as you always remembered, but it paled totally in comparison to the colorful stories the two of you traded. His were-of course- much more riveting and star studded than yours could ever hope to be. He told you tales of everything from his friends to his late nights practicing, to all of the places he had traveled since going into the company. All you had to offer were some stories of your adventures with family and friends but Yeonjun still listened with rapt attention. The flow of conversation was just as easy as you always remembered it to be. Even through mouthfuls of your breakfast you were having a better time with Yeonjun than you had with anyone else in months.

The waiter came to clear your plates during a natural lull in your conversation and suddenly the magical spell casted on the two of you seemed to lift. Yeonjun’s face was flushed red and you became extremely interested in your cuticles.

“I’ll pay for our food,” he reached for the check that had been placed face down on the table as you scoffed.

“No, I can pay for myself, it’s fine,” you held your hand out expectantly but he never handed over the receipt. Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed.

“No, absolutely not. I’m the one who asked you to meet me here out of the blue after not seeing you for years. And it’s just one day that I’m here. The very least I can do is pay for your meal, Y/N. Don’t you remember what it’s like to have a guy treating you?” He waved down the waiter and handed over the check along with a credit card.

“Well to be fair, I haven’t really had a guy ‘treat me’ in a while,” you grumbled at him, “but that’s an unfair way to guilt me into letting you buy my food.” You were pouting now, you knew. Yeonjun cooed at your change in behavior.

“Too bad. I want to be your complimentary boyfriend for the day. So I’m paying. And you get to pick the next place we go.” There was no way you could argue with him although the thought of him being your “boyfriend” again made your brain set off alarms.

“Okay, Junnie. Just remember you dug your own grave.”

Following breakfast, you drug him into your favorite boutique where the two of you had your own coming of age movie style try on in the dressing rooms. You hated to admit just how well Yeonjun had pulled off every single outfit he put on. Even the bright green button up and cheetah print bucket hat you had picked as a joke looked amazing on him. It was hard to miss the way he had bulked up, arms bulging against the fabric of the shirt as he twisted around in front of the mirror to admire himself. Mentally you slapped yourself. No drooling allowed, Y/N. This was no longer the Yeonjun who was your first love. This Yeonjun was famous and in the eyes of the public, living halfway across the world. There was no way he still thought about you the same way you thought of him.

He had noticed your lapse in behavior and chalked it up to him actually enjoying your prank outfits.

“Awe, it’s okay Y/N. We can go to Goodwill and you can find me something really awful to try on. I promise I’ll look hideous,” he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and guided you towards the cashier with a grin so he could buy the last two items you ever thought he would enjoy. You pushed through your slowly souring mood to dutifully follow Yeonjun to another small shop nearby. Your thoughts were beginning to wander farther and farther until you completely tuned his voice out of your head. A hand ruffling up your hair ended your daydreaming. You grabbed Yeonjun’s hand and yanked it away.

“Leave me alone,” your tone was flatter than you wanted him to hear. His face instantly crumpled in confusion before turning serious. You could tell he wanted to say something to you but the atmosphere of the store was just not right. Pop music was piped through the speakers and you could hear the faint hum of the workers talking to one another. Without another word, Yeonjun guided you out of the store and back out to the front of the store.

“I think we should talk in private. Would you feel comfortable if we went back to your apartment?” Your heart swelled at his consideration of your comfort.

Just one slightly awkward Uber ride later, you were letting Yeonjun into your apartment. Suddenly you were worried about the fact that your bed wasn’t made and that you hadn’t dusted in way too long. Of course he didn’t notice, but as he sat down on your couch you couldn’t help but remember the pizza sauce stain on one of the cushions that you had hidden with a well placed throw pillow.

“C’mon, sit down. This is your home and you’re acting more awkward than I am,” he patted the cushion beside him but you chose to leave an intentional space between you, intimidated by the way he spread his legs out in front of him. “What happened?” His voice was soft and gentle, just the way you remember it from all your late nights and early mornings together.

You sighed. “It’s just weird. You being here, I mean. Before, I just saw you as a boy like the same way I was just a girl. Now I’m still just a girl but you’re,” you struggled for the words, “now you’re an it boy. But you still had my number in your phone. You still chose to use your day off to walk around with me! I guess I just don’t know why.” He was silent, watching you with slightly pouted lips and wide eyes.

“Oh,” your eyes crinkled in shock. Oh? That’s all he had to say? Before you had time to fume, he continued; “I thought it was pretty obvious. I still like you. A ton. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. You’ve never been just a girl to me, Y/N. I chose to come see you on my day off because I couldn’t bare the thought of being in your city with free time and not at least trying to make you understand.” You could feel yourself shrinking under his intense gaze.

“Understand what?” you whispered. He leaned closer, eliminating the gap you had created between the two of you. Just inches from your face, you could clearly see the way his sparkling eyes shifted between your own eyes and your lips several times. You knew he was giving you an out. Time to back away and tell him no. But you didn’t want an out. His lips were chapped but just as full as you had always remembered them to be. The first kiss was short and sweet, just a little testing peck as the initial spark lit a larger, raging fire inside of you.

He wasted no time going in for a second kiss, this one much longer and slower and very reminiscent of what you used to share with him. It felt as if he was pulling all of the air from your lungs and replacing it with his own. You felt your dormant feelings leak from the inside out in such a rush that you had to push him away from you. Chest heaving, you laid your head against the solid muscle of his chest. Your eyes burned with unshed tears and all of the thoughts you desperately wanted to spill. Yeonjun stroked your hair and said nothing as you quietly collected yourself.

“It’s been so long. How do you still make me want you so bad?” Yeonjun laughed in a tone that bordered on remorseful.

“Guess I’m magic,” his lips descended on yours again, this time much needier as his hands began to roam all over your body. He kept a strong grip on your hips before sliding a hand up the front of your shirt. You gasped at the feeling.

“Are you okay? I can stop if-“ you shook your head rapidly and wrapped your hand around his wrist to guide him farther up your shirt, resting over your bra.

“I’m fine, please touch me.” He pushed you down against your couch and pressed his weight between your spread legs. Every part of you was on edge, hyper aware of every single movement that Yeonjun made. Mouthing at your neck, using both hands to squeeze at your breasts, the subtle rock of his hips against your center. Jolts of pleasure wracked through you.

“You’re so beautiful. So much more perfect than I even remembered,” Yeonjun stripped your shirt over your head and traced his fingers down your sides. You shivered as he worked his hands behind your back to fumble with the clasp of your bra. You couldn’t help but snort at the scrunched up face of concentration that melted away his dominant facade.

“Need some help?” Trying to bite back your laughter only worked for so long before you turned into a giggly mess under him. He tipped his head back and let out a whine that made your stomach stir in arousal given your situation.

“Don’t laugh, it’s been a long time,” his voice was thicker, deeper than it had been for the rest of the day and only served as a reminder of the tell tale bulge pressed against your inner thigh. Unclasping your own bra was a breeze, but you allowed Yeonjun the pleasure of actually pulling it away from your body. Before you had time to cover yourself up, the boy above you was diving down to press kisses on each breast, paying special attention to your nipples until you were squirming uncontrollably under his weight. He got the message and made short work of your jeans and panties.

“Hold on,” he groaned at the sight of you while he struggled to get off of the couch and strip himself down as quick as possible. He had no shame, and the way you were laying gave you a perfect view of all of the exposed skin. His well built arms and torso flexed underneath his virtually flawless skin. He shucked off his jeans and boxers in one go before eagerly climbing back on top of you. You were at a loss for words at the sight of his body but luckily Yeonjun didn’t mind your silence. He used it to his advantage as he rubbed circles into the meat of your thighs teasingly.

“Jun,” your hips canted upwards and caught on the head of his cock, “please.” You stuck out your bottom lip in a pout and that seemed to break his resolve instantly.

“Okay, fuck. I can’t resist you anymore princess,” he grunted his understanding and weaved his fingers through yours on either side of your head. Slowly, he pushed into you. He bit back moans the whole time, occasionally rocking his hips against you to stimulate your clit as well as he could. Your back arched off of the couch; neck bent at an awkward angle although it was the least of your worries as Yeonjun’s cock was fully sheathed inside of you. Your body was in overdrive; impossibly warm and sensitive even at the smallest roll of his hips.

Instantly you were a needy mess and could only focus on the feeling of Yeonjun’s skin against yours. His name fell from your lips like a prayer as he pinned you down and began to thrust with the kind of intensity you weren’t expecting. Hard thrusts shifted your body underneath his and forced sounds you never heard yourself make from your throat. Yeonjun was just as loud, grunting and moaning at every snap of his hips.

With a slight shift of his weight, he was laying on top of you, totally encasing your body in his presence and burying his nose in the sensitive skin of your shoulder. The new angle forced him even deeper into you and a new wave of pleasure rolled through you. Your inner walls contracted around Yeonjun’s cock as a result and his hips stuttered at the feeling.

“Oh, do that again,” he commanded before biting into the soft skin behind your ear. You followed his orders easily and felt his cock twitch as a reward.

“Fuck, I’m close already, you’re so hot. You made me like this. Shit, princess. I missed you so much,” his thrusts became impossibly faster and deeper, bringing you just moments away from the feeling you were so desperately chasing.

“Jun,” your voice was high and needy, “I need more, I need more,” your words melted into incoherence but he still got the message and dislodged one of his hands from your shared grip to harshly rub at your clit. The touch was absolutely electric. Your eyes rolled back in your head and it only took a few more thrusts from Yeonjun before your vision turned white. You knew you were yelling and whining pathetically but you couldn’t get yourself to stop as he continued drilling into you to prolong your high and chase his own.

As soon as you began to calm down, Yeonjun pulled out. Although you felt painfully empty, your attention shifted immediately to the sight of him working a hand over his cock. He hadn’t given you the time to marvel at him earlier, so you took the opportunity to wonder at the perfect size and curve of his reddened cock, glistening with the sheen of your release. Yeonjun’s voice heightened the faster he moved his hand; swirling his thumb around the tip shakily before he finally released in hot spurts across your body. The sounds he made as he came all over your stomach and chest were nothing short of heavenly. Even through his ragged breaths he called out to you, chanting praise that made your stomach turn in more ways than one.

Despite the messy state of your skin, Yeonjun pulled you upwards and insisted on wrapping you up in a hug. You felt a little disgusted at all the fluids involved but said nothing. The two of you hadn’t really hugged since the day he left. He placed a kiss on your forehead and there was no denying just how tender the action was, especially following the spontaneous sex the two of you had just finished.

“I wasn’t lying, you know. I do like you. I’ve never stopped liking you. I didn’t just say that to have sex with you, I hope you know that. I would say I even love you but…” his voice was raspy from overuse. You stared into his eyes, trying to read the odd mix of emotions swirling in his irises.

“It’s okay, Jun. I know you can’t...with work and everything,” you traced patterns on his bare chest, “I like you too. Even though we’ve found ourselves in a super weird spot here. And I’m happy we, ya know.” Your face was burning at the absurdity of being shy about it when a mere three minutes ago you were begging for him. “And I love that we’re cuddling and everything, and it’s a great moment for us, but I’m cold and sticky,” your nose scrunched involuntarily at the confession. Yeonjun couldn’t hold back the loud laugh that brought you back to every other moment you’d heard it before.

“Guess those things are my fault, huh?” Yeonjun teased, leaning down to place a light kiss onto your nose. You feigned upset but he didn’t buy it. Instead, he wiggled his way off of the couch. You tried your best not to stare at his towering form as you took the hand he held out to you.

“Shower?” He questioned, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you as you stood to your full height. For a second you hesitated, knowing the fondness growing in your heart would only hurt you even more in just a few hours. But you had him for just one day. Why not make the most of it?

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sweetchup · 4 years ago

Note

Can do headcanons for how members of the troupe react to their S/O saying “i love you” for the first time? Btw, love your blog!

Thank you so much!! 🌸🌸🌸I’ll keep up the good work (and aesthetic). Due to the 10 photo limit tumblr has it’s going to be split up into two parts :).

S/O saying “I love you” for the First Time.

You can find the other members in part 2.

“Oh.”

Now don’t take that reaction as a bad thing, it’s really not.

Chrollo has lived in a dump of place called Meteor City and is kind of a psychopath (he may also be a sociopath) so he’s never experienced or been shown true love.

Sure, he’s acted like he knows what love is in order to steal something or get info. He also may have been shown it as kid but that was most likely fake and only to take advantage of young Chrollo.

So the “Oh” is more like something has like clicked in his mind. Because Chrollo doesn’t always know why he does his actions, like when Gon questioned him, so he probably at first just pursued you to go with the flow of what he was feeling or to satisfy what he thought was some simple curiousity.

So now that he understand what he’s feeling, he’s kind of out of words because like everything is like clicking together all at once; from the sweaty palms to the raising heart and the constant need to be around you, the memories are all flashing through his head and making sense.

Your not off the hook though because after Chrollo finally snaps out of his thoughts, he will be a possessive spider, and will literally clutch onto you for a while. Whether it be you sitting on his lap while he reads, having an arm around you during troupe meetings or even when you are walking somewhere and he is literally latched onto your back, he has to have some sort of physical contact with you. Don’t worry this possessiveness will go away after like a week or so but by then it will probably have become a habit for you to still sit on his lap when he reads.

Though, another side to this (a dark side), if he instead says “I love you too, sweet cake” with a charming smile or tries anyother romantic gesture, you probably aren’t talking to the real Chrollo. Only a fake one he has made to steal from you or to use you. So don’t get attached.

“Huh? Really?!?”

You probably have angered the troupe by saying this because Nobunaga was probably calm before you said this but now he’s excited like crazy. He’s might act cool as a cucumber but he’s still an enhancer after all.

And the reason I say the troupe is angered is probably due to the fact that Nobunaga will not shut up for weeks about you telling him you love him.

It’ll probably be all quiet in the hideout when all of sudden Nobunaga will say “Hey guys did you know what S/O said to me last week?”

They are all sick of it, even Uvo. Uvo was fine with it the whole first week and even gave Nobunaga a high five every time he brought it up. But now he just starts a fight with Nobunaga. Which Nobunaga will definetly accept, to protect your honor of course.

Due to the amount of fights and being sick of it, Chrollo will be forced to create a new rule which bans any mentioning of anybody’s s/o during troupe activities unless absolutely needed.

And you bet you that Nobunaga found a way around that rule.

“Huh? I know.”

Feitan probably isn’t effected by your confession at first. He’ll probably contunie about his day. After all he knew you loved him before so why should he care if you say it in words.

It most likely sets in around two to three days after. He’ll be doing some sort of troupe activity and your confession will probably randomly pop up in his head making him smile. At first he’s confused and will wipe the smile off his face as fast as he can.

But, as the days and hours go by, it gets harder and harder to hide it because it becomes more and more frequent and harder to force down. Even some of the troupe members start noticing and you know Shalnark and Phinks are going to tease him for it.

Let’s just say you better be ready for when he gets home since he’s not happy with what your confession did to him, even if it wasn’t actually your fault. He’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk for days.

“Oh... umm. I love you, too”

Machi will probably turn away from you while she says this because she is a tough girl and needs to keep up her act.

It will most likely be a normal day with normal activities. You’ll do whatever you do and she’ll either relax or do troupe activities.

Don’t worry though because like a cat, Machi will come back later to show you affection. You’ll probably be watching Tv or looking something on the computer and, like clockwork, Machi will come over and curl up in your lap. Don’t say anything because that will make her mad and scare her off. Just either hold her or rub your fingers through her bubblegum locks. Please do the second because she’ll melt at your touch.

“Oh~~~ How adorable~~”

Would not advice confessing to this clown in a private setting.

In a public one it’s fine because he’ll probably end up just tease you and be more touchy than usual. He might also call Illumi to brag and embarass you. Don’t worry, Illumi will probably only ask whens the wedding. Also if your a strong S/O, a boner might pop out when confessing as well. Try to make sure he isn’t standing or in plain view when you say it.

Now if this is in a private setting, Hisoka is going to take this to the max. He’s horny and in sensory overload when you finally admit it so, like when he gets too much bloodlustly, he has to get it all out.

This wouldn’t be bad if he was just horny but when he’s all crazy it’s intresting. Most likely you’ll end up passing out like 2 to 3 times from overstimulation. So if you like overstimulation to the max then do it but if not then don’t do it.

Also even if you pass out, that doesn’t mean Hisoka will stop.

“Oh...I love you too babe.”

Kind of like Machi in this one, he might have a slight blush on his face but he won’t freak out or anything after.

As soon as you leave the room or turn around however, phinks will probably be siked and will definetly do a fist bump and give himself a mental pat on the back.

He’ll also act more gentlemently for the rest of the day or evening. Though it’s in small amounts so you have to really think about it to realize it.

When you two go to sleep, Phinks will stay up a little later and just observe you, dropping his guard as you sleep. He will also be definetly running his finger through your hair, giving you small kisses on the forehead and cuddling you closer until he passes out.

“...”

Most likely when you confess you won’t get anything, no response or sounds, because he’ll be on his phone or playing some sort of game. Honestly, when you tried to get his attention beforehand he didn’t even flinch or blink your way. Shalnark is just like that.

Don’t worry though since Shalnark did hear you, he is pretty observant even when on his phone or electronic devices. He just wanted to toy with you for a little after all this is Shalnark we are talking about.

Though as soon as you go to walk away, Shalnark will snap out of it and grab you. From there you’ll be stuck in his lap for hours, it is surprisingly comfy though being in his arms so take a nap while your in them.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #headcanon #hxh headcanons #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #nobunaga hazama #nobunaga #feitan #feitan portor #machi #machi komachine #hisoka #hisoka morow #phinks magcub #phinks #shalnark

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satendou · 4 years ago

Text

⟼ make a trade

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: bokuto kotaro/reader/tendo satori

⇢ au: college!au, poly!au

⇢ summary: tendou is doing his best to give you and bokuto some alone time, but at every turn his plan backfires. dates go awry and he winds up interrupting you more than ever. after another failed date, a twist of luck gives you the solution to his problem.

⇥ masterlist

⇥ requests are open! | rules

⇢ warnings: two different established relationships, polyamory, mild angst, fingering, double penetration, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

⇢ word count: 7.1k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i know i know, they’re a weird pairing. tell me they don’t give off similar vibes tho. as usual, thank you to the woml @keijiskitten for not only editing this but for hardcore hyping me in her comments. ilysm.

The rain beat a rhythmic tattoo on the top of Tendo’s umbrella as he wandered home, matching his mood and the rapid pace of his heart. Water splashed up with every step, spraying his shoes and the cuffs of his jeans and he wondered idly if they would dry before classes tomorrow. Thunder echoed in the distance, but his pace remained the same.

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, he paid little attention to where he was going, choosing to stare at his feet as he wondered, not for the first time, why he wasn’t good enough.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out despite the danger of the rain. The racing of his thoughts quieted down when he saw your smiling face, relief washing through him at the distraction as he hit talk.

You were quiet for a moment, waiting for him to make or break the start of the conversation and, when he said nothing, you sighed. “Hurry home, okay? I have ice cream and Insidious ready to play. I don’t want you getting electrocuted.”

On the other end of the line, you could hear the steady patter of rain and a plethora of unspoken words and feelings. Normally that would have made him laugh.

You hated this, the aftereffects of a failed date or relationship. It took all the life out of your bright and bubbly Tendo, the effect of years of built up insecurities and walls. He was open and sweet as could be to the people he let in, but that trust was fragile.

“Alright.”

That one word spoke volumes about how he was feeling. Whether he was stood up or there was just no interest on their part, it didn’t matter. But he wasn’t crying, which meant that at least it wasn’t another joke date. You had nearly burned down the dorms over that one and after a frantic night of comforting Tendo after you found him, you had gathered up your friends and made a show out of supporting him. It had taken him weeks to recover from that and a lot of nights were spent in your arms, clingy and needy and making sure you were there.

Even if he didn’t tell you as much, you knew that’s what he was doing. That one stupid little prank had sent him back into his own personal hell, one it had taken you months to work him out of in the first place. Trust from him was hard to come by, but he was loyal to a fault once you had it.

“Baby, you know I love you, right?” you asked, and he almost missed it over the rain. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring down at his dirty sneakers as a flash of doubt struck through him. His heart clenched in his chest, the pain almost unbearable as he realized what he was doing to himself.

Suddenly, he just wanted to be home, where you would kiss and hug his insecurities away, proving your words were true and you weren’t just saying them.

“I’ll be home in a few,” he said and hung up. It would have startled you if you weren’t used to it. He tended to act before he thought, and once he set a course it was like it took over. Knowing a few literally meant a few, you returned to the living room, where your own guest lay sprawled across the couch still.

You could see the white frosted tips over the back of the couch, hear his quiet laughter at whatever was playing on the TV, head propped up in his hand. When you sat down in front of him, leaning against his stomach and sighing, he muted it.

“Ah, do you want me to leave? I guess it didn’t go so well,” Bokuto said, wrapping one arm around your waist. He wasn’t usually so perceptive, but it was such a specific sound that he just knew what it meant.

It was an impromptu date for the two of you, what with Tendo having one of his own. You had called him up an hour before and asked what he was doing and whether he wanted to hang out for a while, but with Tendo on his way home… Not that he minded you and Bokuto being together, and they got along great, which was a relief for you. There was a running joke in your group of friends about how one of the world’s seven great mysteries was how the hell you managed to curb the two of them at the same time.

The answer was there was no curbing it, you just watched them burn bright. Pretty sight, usually. The chaotic energy they channeled was amazing, so long as it wasn’t directed at you. Which meant not letting them get bored, which meant you were constantly on the go. Not that that was a bad thing, it was just a lot.

“It didn’t, but it’s storming and your dorm is all the way on the other side of campus,” you answered, running your fingers through his hair. A quick shower after he came in had rid him of the gel he had put in earlier that day-- dummy hadn’t brought an umbrella and the bottom opened just before he reached your apartment. You opened the door to find him absolutely soaked and laughing his fool head off while you ushered him in.

He sat on the couch while you towel dried his hair, leaving it artfully messy and fluffy and god was he ever gorgeous. You had just started making out, one of his hands on your ass and the other sliding up your shirt, when you got a text from Ushiwaka.

‘Tendo texted me. You need to call him.’

“Oh hell,” you groaned, threading your fingers through your hair. That could only mean one thing and sure enough, he was on his way home.

Bokuto hummed, catching your hand and kissing your palm and inner wrist. “If you’re sure it’ll be okay. I know how he gets and I don’t wanna intrude.”

Truth be told, he very much did want to intrude. You and Tendo together was something he had dreamed of more than once, though you both seemed oblivious. Which was absolutely ridiculous given he wasn’t known for his subtlety. And Tendo was supposed to be known for being good at guessing shit. Clearly that only applied to volleyball because he was missing Bokuto’s clear cues.

“Yeah, it’s too late now anyway,” you said as the lock turned with a dull click and Tendo stepped in. He looked unsurprised to see Bokuto there-- if anything he looked a little guilty. The front of his jeans was splattered with mud and there were flecks of water on his waterproof windbreaker. His breath was coming out in pants, indicating he had been running, and he collapsed onto the couch at Bokuto’s feet after dumping his jacket on the back of the loveseat.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “You ready for some ice cream and horror?”

Flashing Bokuto a grateful look, you scooted down until you were seated practically on top of Tendo. The couch shifted as Bokuto stood, wandering into the kitchen and rifling loudly through drawers and cabinets. You wanted to say it was for show, to let you know he was giving you space, but really it was just how he naturally was.

Boy didn’t know how to do anything quietly.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked, carding your fingers through his hair. The humidity had dampened the gel, his spiky locks falling down onto his forehead. They came away slightly sticky, but you did it again anyway.

Tendo stared at his knees, heaving a sigh. “She took one look at me and made an excuse to leave. Something about how she remembered her mom needed her help with something. Real original, right?”

Poor Tendo. It was a recurring theme throughout his childhood and highschool life. In elementary school, they had called him a monster. In highschool it settled down, but those who hadn’t been able to get past his appearance to see the bright soul underneath still spread rumors, calling him creepy and a freak, a thug and a delinquent. It had eased up once he made his friends on the volleyball team-- no one had wanted to get on Ushiwaka’s bad side.

Volleyball had given him a measure of self-confidence that he had never had, but that was as far as it went. Anyone outside of his circle of friends was met with suspicion, even if he didn’t show it. He was good at putting on a show for strangers, but anyone who knew him knew the difference. You hadn’t managed to get him to agree to a date for almost a year after meeting him, working your ass off to prove to him you wanted it.

It was Ushiwaka who kept you going, promising you that Tendo liked you just as much but he was afraid. “Just give him time, and don’t give up on him. He needs this, _____.”

So, shortly after a year had passed, he finally let you into his good graces and it was like your life had exploded into color. There was never a dull moment with Tendo before, but after he agreed to a date it was like the faucet had gotten stuck on and there was nothing anyone could do to turn it off.

Everything Tendo did was done with some measure of erratic carelessness, right down to getting dressed in the morning. Dragging you along to games and on dates without asking was something you had grown used to. Seeing everything the way he did came later, when you reached the point in your relationship where your thoughts synced up and you knew what the other was thinking without even having to think.

It didn’t matter that it had been years since you first got together, you still received texts throughout the day that held no coherent meaning, but you understood nonetheless to mean I love you. Whether it was a phrase in the book he was reading for lit class or the way the sun reflected off the screen of his phone, if he was reminded of you you were sure to find out.

You still woke up in his arms every morning, long legs tangled with yours, drool at the corner of his mouth as he snored softly into your ear. It made no difference if you had gone to bed angry with one another, you always woke up surrounded by warmth and strong arms.

So why were you the only one who could see that?

“I’m sorry, baby. She clearly doesn’t know a good thing when she sees one, if she did that,” you said, a familiar phrase versed a hundred different ways every time he came home after a failed date.

Being completely honest, you had no idea why Tendo continued to agree to them. You admired him for persevering and not giving up, but his determination to try was somehow disheartening. Not that you were afraid he was trying to replace you, god knew that was the last thing on his mind, but you didn’t understand what he was aiming for. Even when you asked, he’d just shrug.

“Just playin’ the field, princess. No real reason.”

That obviously just wasn’t true, because otherwise he wouldn’t be so torn up over others’ judgments and assumptions.

His head fell to your shoulder, arms winding around your waist, releasing a long sigh into your neck. “Yeah, I know.”

It really didn’t sound like he knew, and he really didn’t feel like he knew either. The only thing he was sure of was you, the only constant good thing in his life. Besides Ushiwaka and volleyball and apparently Bokuto, but those just weren't the same.

The couch shifted beside you once again and you lost your balance. Only Bokuto’s hand at your back kept you upright, and you paused to readjust. Tendo followed suit, moving around you like a jellyfish until you were settled into Bokuto’s side, his head resting on your lap as you continued to stroke his hair.

The opening scene to The Hills Have Eyes played on the TV, the tub of ice cream Bokuto had spent 15 minutes getting out of the freezer thawing on the table beside three spoons.

“Everybody ready for some scares?” Bokuto asked, slinging his arm around your shoulders. This was new territory for him. While the three of you would sometimes spend time together studying or hanging out with friends, a whole date night was something that had never come up. Especially not after a backfired date. Usually if that happened Bokuto would book it at your request, leaving you to clean up the pieces of your partner.

Tendo hummed, his sleepy eyes half-closed, long fingers intertwined with yours on your thigh, almost touching Bokuto’s. You pressed play on the movie and silence lapsed as the opening credits played, Bokuto opening the tub of ice cream and digging out a spoonful. He offered it to you, and you giggled around the mouthful, way too big for you. Tendo looked up and smiled a little in response to the sound and sat up, receiving a spoonful in his face as well.

Taking it like a champ, he swallowed it before saying, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go change.”

The light in the bedroom flicked on and you paused the movie while Bokuto took a bite, tempted to get up and follow after him. But he was lightning quick and settled back down beside you before you could make a decision, pressing play once again.

Bokuto slid his arm from around your shoulders when Tendo pulled you in close, nuzzling his nose into your hair. The rain still thundered outside, indicating a long and miserable walk home if he wanted to leave. Which, being honest, he didn’t. He liked being with you and Tendo and, though he couldn’t tell for sure, thought Tendo liked having him around too. At least, he assumed that because he assumed everyone liked having him around.

Can’t be wrong if he isn’t aware of it, right?

It more than surprised him-- even though he was casually watching from the corner of his eyes-- when you leaned back into his side, Tendo’s elbows digging into his ribs from the combined weight of both of you. Tendo’s face was still hidden in your neck, and he didn’t shy away from the contact, while your head tilted at a very awkward angle to meet his eye, giving him a sly smirk.

Maybe Bokuto wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was being.

Which was absolutely true, it had just taken you awhile to figure out if Tendo would be okay with it. Also, if asked, you would swear it was Tendo who had pushed you into him, and he wouldn’t deny it either.

Tendo wasn’t unaware of Bokuto at all. The former ace of Fukurodani-- and current ace of his college team-- was hard to miss. Frosted spiky tips, sharp yellow eyes that appeared scary until he opened his mouth and said something utterly stupid, an easygoing personality and muscles for days were all things Tendo could appreciate. That he made you happy was just a really, really amazing bonus and was one of the reasons he liked Bokuto in the first place.

The other reason being, of course, that he didn’t treat Tendo like an outsider when they first met. Nothing about his strange appearance or name had troubled him and, if anything, seemed to draw Bokuto to him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why at first, but he liked Bokuto right from the start. It was a lot like how he had latched onto Ushiwaka when they first met and assumed it was just his open acceptance of him.

You later pointed out that it was because the two of them were too similar. “Two chaotic entities occupying the same space. Thank god you get along or you’d destroy the world,” you had said when he brought it up to you. That had made him laugh hard enough to cry, but it also seemed to fit the way the others viewed them when they got together.

“Oh god everyone run, they’re together again.”

“Someone call _____ or they’re gonna burn the mall down.”

Etc., etc., he couldn’t remember what else they’d said. Not that it mattered, because when he was with the both of you he felt right.

And when you had started dating Bokuto, he hadn’t been bothered because it still felt right. Until he realized that the two of you would probably want some alone time and he found himself with a lot of free time-- and doubts. Unable to process those doubts-- his mind was always too muddled and on the go to really nail down a problem-- he settled on finding his own second partner, hoping that doing so would calm his erratic thoughts.

And that obviously did not work because every time he tried to go out, he would end up interrupting your date with Bokuto. Even though you said it was fine and never seemed angry, it seemed like his attempts to give you a little bit of range were backfiring, and every time he wondered if this was going to be the night that you let him have it.

“What, ‘Tori?” you asked, breaking your eye contact with Bokuto to look down at the red head in your arms. You could hear him muttering something that sounded vaguely like an apology, but it was muffled by the sound of the TV and his face hidden in your neck.

Bokuto looked curious when you looked back up at him, brows quirked in confusion and a question in your eyes. You looked adorable, and he snickered into his hand. He could never take anything too seriously, after all and, even though you looked concerned it was outweighed by the cuteness factor.

“I--” Tendo started, drawing both of your attention. He pulled back, kneeling up between your legs and scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry, you know. For always interrupting your dates. I’ve been trying to give you some space but it just seems like it happens more when I do. It really isn’t intentional.”

The childlike fear as he looked anywhere but at the two of you would have been amusing if he didn’t sound so nervous. Instead it just broke your heart that he thought he had to remove himself to make you happy. Of course, that was typical of Tendo. If you weren’t getting it from him, he thought it meant you didn’t need him around.

You really should’ve noticed sooner. Tendo had never dated around before you started seeing Bokuto. It was so obvious to you now, after it had already been explained to you, and you cursed yourself.

Before you could say anything, Bokuto’s laughter broke the silence and two sets of eyes whipped around to him. His hand covered his eyes as his shoulders shook, the sound somehow both light and condescending and you weren’t sure what it meant.

When he finally looked back up, he was staring directly at Tendo.

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be so observant you sure are oblivious sometimes. We never said we didn’t want you around. You just went off and assumed that was the case. Did you consider we might want you here?” he asked, resting his cheek on his curled fist, vivid yellow eyes locked on vermillion.

Tendou sank down a little, hands resting on your knees, but he couldn’t look away from Bokuto. “I don’t know. I guess I never really did.”

Bokuto finally broke eye contact just to roll them, a single, fluid motion that you couldn’t hope to do in a million years. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be so good at reading people, you really are oblivious.”

“You said that already. You’ve been hanging out with Kuroo too much. Do you even know what oblivious means?” Tendo asked, his voice lighter than it had been all night. It suddenly felt like his dark world had exploded with light and color, returning to him his happiness.

“No, but did I use it right?” Bokuto asked, leaning forward and it was like a switch flipped and all three of you were laughing, pure and unadulterated, until tears streamed down your cheeks and you had to stop for fear that you’d die because you couldn’t breathe.

You had ended up with your head in Bokuto’s lap as you wiped your tears away, Tendo having fallen down to lay his on your stomach while he took in wheezy breaths. Bokuto was the last to stop laughing, his arm tossed over his eyes while he gasped for air.

Carding your fingers through Tendo’s soft locks, you asked, “So does this mean you’ll stop going out with all these people that don’t know what they’ve got, Sato? I can’t stand seeing you hurting because of them. And all because you think you need to give me space. As if you’ve given me an ounce since we started dating.”

Tendou laughed lightly again, his eyes closing as he traced patterns into the skin of your stomach, exposed where your shirt had ridden up while you were rolling around.

I love you.

Mine.

My sunshine.

Those were just a few of the things he thought of you on a daily basis, the most prevalent in his mind when your face flashed in his mind-- which was a very frequent occurrence, if he was being honest. If Tendo didn’t think about you at least once every ten minutes, he considered his day wasted. Which doubled if he added Bokuto into the mix, and he did. Often.

You giggled, wiggling a little as it tickled, but he didn’t stop. In fact, he started to actually tickle you, pinning your hips down so you couldn’t get away.

Two more hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them away from where you were tugging at Tendo’s hair and smacking his arms and back, trying to get him to stop, and you wailed in despair. “This isn’t fair. Stop, stop please, I’m gonna--”

God if that begging didn’t sound awfully familiar. You sounded just like you did when he didn’t stop fucking you after you’d came.

Oops.

Tendo was the first to notice, his hand grazing over the hard tent in Bokuto’s shorts, and he stopped short to stare first at it then up at him. You didn’t notice that the tickling had stopped for a moment, stomach still tensed and ready for it to continue. When you finally opened your eyes, you found the two of them locked in a steady gaze and were confused by the sudden intensity.

“Can you blame me? Did you hear the sounds she was makin’? I mean, that was hot as fuck,” Bokuto said with a shrug and your cheeks flushed hot as you realized what he meant.

“Well it wasn’t my fault,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren’t really upset and they both knew it, now grinning at each other. It wasn’t exactly what either of them thought would happen tonight but were either of them going to complain?

The hands that wrapped around your upper arms and tugged you up said no, and so did the hands that skimmed up your sides tickling as they pushed your shirt up. And what were you going to say, trapped between two of the most gorgeous men you could imagine? It was a literal dream come true-- you had dreamt about it on more than one occasion and woken up in a heated sweat.

Tendo liked those nights, even if he didn’t know the reason behind it.

Lifting your arms above your head, you let Bokuto pull your shirt off over your head, leaving your breasts to Tendo’s heated lips wrapping around your nipple. A familiar hand cupped your other breast, pinching and rolling that nipple between rough and calloused fingers and you craned your neck back.

Bokuto instantly knew what you wanted, his lips colliding with yours and swallowing the little gasps that had been leaving your lips. He didn’t know what kind of lover Tendo was, but you had certainly never complained about him, and wondered how their styles would mix.

Fingers wrapped around his, pulling his hand from your breast and he snatched it away, using it to cup your chin instead. The hand that had been on your hip, holding you steady, replaced the breast Tendou had just abandoned, occupying the wet, sensitive bud with his fingers. Your back was arched away from his chest, moaning into his mouth as he tasted you.

Tendou had engulfed your other nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling it between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue as he rubbed your pussy outside the fabric of your shorts.

“No panties, huh, princess?” he asked, hot breath ghosting over your wet nipple and making you shiver. The shorts hid none of the wetness you were leaking, the smooth fabric feeling rough against your clit and you trembled as Bokuto’s breath hit your ear.

“Were you plannin’ to have your way with me tonight, kitten? Thought I’d fuck this pretty pussy before Satori came home?” he whispered, nipping the shell sharply while he pinched your nipple.

You jerked in his hold when Tendo kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs, not even realizing he’d gotten down there until you felt his teeth. He nuzzled the area now sporting a red mark, taking in the smell of your coconut body wash, hands sliding up over your hips and hooking in the waistband of your shorts. When they were off, he gave you just one long, slow lick up your slick folds before he pulled back.

“Get on your knees, princess,” he commanded as he shed his own shirt, lanky torso flexing and stretching as he pulled it over his head. While you followed his order, he and Bokuto undressed, shedding clothes and dropping them right next to the couch.

You inhaled sharply through your nose when Bokuto settled back down behind you, the hard length of his cock poking between your legs, grazing your wet outer lips. His hands roamed over your torso, taking a handful of your tits and squeezing your hips until Tendo settled in front of you, and for the first time they paused, looking at each other over your shoulder.

Bokuto reacted first, beckoning to Tendo with his finger, who leaned closer to your shoulder. You automatically shifted out of the way, hands coming to rest on his arm and chest to balance yourself.

The first kiss was hesitant and soft, testing the water to see if it was what they wanted. It was, Tendo’s chapped lips parting to glide across Bokuto’s soft ones-- the result of religious use of chapstick. He responded instantly, tongue poking out to meet Tendo’s and you could feel the reaction in the way they squeezed you tighter, until one of Tendo’s hands left, carding his fingers through Bokuto’s limp grey locks.

The taste of ice cream lingered on their tongues when they pulled apart, pupils blown wide with a newfound lust for each other, wide eyes locked. Definitely new territory, as Tendo had never managed to snag a date with another man before.

Not that he had tried particularly hard-- he just didn’t try to date anyone, until you.

And now here he was, making out with Bokuto of all people. Wild.

Bokuto was the first to turn his attention back to you, distracted by the way your hips moved, gliding your slick folds along his cock. He sighed into your neck, kissing and licking the juncture of your shoulder as he began to rock his to meet yours, applying more pressure to your clit.

Your little hitched gasps and pants were music to their ears, Bokuto whispering against your skin, “You’re so wet for us, kitten. Did that turn you on? You’re dripping all over my cock.”

“How do we want her?” Tendo asked, sliding his cock in beside Bokuto’s, and you shivered as they talked about what they wanted to do to you.

“I don’t know about you, but I wanna take this pretty ass. How does that sound, beautiful?” he asked low into your ear. His tongue flicked out, tracing the shell of your ear and sparks flew down your spine.

Tendo smirked when your lips parted, looking up at him with wide eyes. Leaning over you, he grazed his lips over yours, laughing in his throat at the way you followed after him, seeking more. “You gotta tell him what you want, princess. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, a low whine leaving your lips. “Yes, Ko, please that sounds so good.”

The slow movements over your slit stopped, the heat of his cock receding to be replaced with long, lithe fingers, and you instantly recognized them as Tendo’s. “And how does it sound if I fuck this pretty pussy, princess? You want both of us inside you at once?”

Once again you nodded, fingers tightening and nails digging into Tendo’s upper arm as his fingers probed inside of you, stretching your walls around two at once. You were already so wet you didn’t even flinch, moaning his name as Bokuto’s warmth disappeared from your back.

Heavy footsteps receded, barely noticed in your pleasured state, but Tendo watched over your shoulder as he stomped, proudly naked, down the hall into the bedroom. There was some rustling, like he was rifling through something, before he appeared again, bottle in hand.

Tendo knew it was there, but wasn’t something he’d bought nor used very often. But when he found it one day and asked, he’d hardened instantly when you told him Bokuto was more of an ass man than a pussy man. The filthy way you said that had led to several rounds in bed, during which he found out just why Bokuto liked it so much.

The snap of the plastic cap fell on deaf ears as Tendo continued to plunge his fingers into your tight heat, thumb circling over your clit with every thrust. You were practically dripping down his wrist and he knew when Bokuto had started by the way you clenched down on his fingers, a surprised gasp leaving your lips.

Behind you, Bokuto pressed his slicked up finger to your tight entrance, circling and massaging until you were wet enough to slide into. You squeezed down around him, a small, needy whine filling his ears while you fell forward into Tendou’s chest. Your fingernails bit into his skin, leaving angry crescent marks and you tried to focus on the feel of three fingers pumping in and out of you, gathering up your slick wetness and stretching you open.

A second finger pressed into your ass, scissoring just enough to feel mindblowing, while a third slid into your pussy and just thinking about how many fingers were fucking you was enough to send thrills of pleasure to your toes.

“God, princess, you look so beautiful,” Tendo whispered, his eyes narrowed as he watched your lips part and your skin turn pink. Each moan made his cock throb, dripping precum and aching to be inside you, but he would wait until Bokuto was ready. All he could think about was the whines and moans you would give them as they both filled you up at the same time, fluttering around them with no way to escape. Not that you would try-- you were practically begging them already, your pretty lips open and shiny as you licked them.

He leaned over to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping, eliciting another moan from you.

Or maybe it was Bokuto that did that, a third slicked up finger probing into you, intensifying the stretch as he opened your ass up to be able to take his cock. He knew exactly how much you needed, how much you could take, and he couldn’t wait until you were ready to swallow him up. He could feel Tendo’s fingers bumping against his as they thrust inside of you in tandem, the sounds of your slick pussy and ass making his mouth water.

The pads of Tendo’s fingers were rough, brushing against the soft spot inside of you in time with your clit and you could steadily feel your orgasm closing in, moaning into his mouth as your nails dug into his shoulder. It was one thing to cum around a toy while Bokuto fucked your ass-- it was quite another to cum around his fingers while Tendou fingered your cunt and you tricked yourself into your orgasm with the thought, crying and whining against his lips while your thighs trembled with the urge to snap closed. Your hips rocked, unable to escape their assault, Bokuto spreading his fingers more before easing them out of you.

They were replaced with the head of his dripping cock, throbbing with need and more than ready to feel you wrapped around him.

Tendo followed suit, lining himself up with your dripping hole, dragging his tip up and down your sensitive slit and feeling you quiver. He smirked down at you, vermillion eyes half lidded in amused pleasure, and took in your blissed out, blank expression.

The snap of the lube bottle caught his attention again, followed by the sounds of Bokuto fucking his own hand, lubing his cock up. He wiped his fingers off on his shirt, mindless of the fact that he’d need to wear it later.

While you waited, Tendo decided to make use of your mouth. Sliding the fingers still covered in your essence between your parted lips, he commanded, “Suck.”

Your plump lips immediately wrapped around them, tongue laving and teeth grazing the pad, staring up at him with the widest, most innocent expression you could manage. He could see right through it.

“You ready, kitten? I can’t wait anymore. Need to feel you,” Bokuto said, a low groan riding in his throat as he nudged his tip into you, just waiting for you to give the okay, and Tendo slid his fingers from between your lips.

“Ko, fuck yes. Give me your cock,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair.

His lips parted against your shoulder, a shaky breath of air puffing over your skin as he followed your command. You trembled and moaned in his hold as he slid into you, his cock stretching you further still even after all the prepping he did with his fingers. Your ass offered little resistance, giving into his throbbing cock and you whined, toes curling in pleasure until he was seated deep inside you.

Tendou gave you one warning nudge before he pushed inside your slick cunt, splitting your pussy open with a wet noise and a groan, your walls fluttering uselessly around him. Your eyes rolled back, thoughts nonexistent beyond Ohfuckohfuckohfuck, until his hips met yours and stilled.d

Both men’s breathing was erratic, fingers white knuckled on your hips and sides, squeezing tight enough that they were going to leave marks come the morning, not that any of you cared. All you could focus on was the incredibly full feeling, their cocks twitching every time you fluttered around them.

Bokuto released another stuttery moan, the first to thrust slowly in and out of you, testing to make sure you could take it. When all you did was moan, tugging his hair and arching your back into Tendo, he cursed, rough hands sliding up over your ribs and cupping your tits. Your hips stuttered when he pinched your nipples, keening in the back of your throat. “What a slut, taking us so easily like this. How do we feel, kitten? You’re so tight, squeezing around me. Gonna cum in this pretty ass tonight.”

You couldn’t think of a coherent response, whimpering out only a raspy, “So good, so big, feels so good, Ko.”

Tendo tentatively rolled his hips as well, watching your eyes flutter and roll, lips parting as you cried out, both of them stuffing themselves inside you at the same time. The only thing you could do was hold on, your head tilted back on Bokuto’s shoulder as they picked up their erratic pace, not setting a solid one and you couldn’t figure out if they were doing it on purpose or not, but it was working. Sometimes they were both buried deep inside of you, sometimes they synced up so that only one of them was in you at a time, but they kept a tight hold on your tits and hips, keeping you from taking control.

The sloppy sounds of their thrusts into your wet holes overshadowed the movie still playing in the background, only getting louder the faster they pounded into you. Tendo bucked up, grinding deep into you, the coarse curls at the base of his shaft tickling your clit while the head of his cock kissed your cervix, and a sharp jolt of pleasure careened through you.

Both reacted, hard cocks jerking inside of you, and Tendo repeated the motion on the next thrust and you called his name like a plea, nails dragging down the back of his neck. A string of babbles left your lips, their names mixed with cries for more, harder, deeper. They gave you as much as they could, cocks slamming in and out of you as fast as their muscles would allow, the wet slap of their hips against yours a constant sound on top of the ones leaving your lips.

Abandoning your breast, one of Bokuto’s hands slid down, grazing Tendo’s flexing abs to cup your clit, rubbing rough circles around it and you flinched, the already intense pleasure overwhelming.

You came around them with no other warning than a sharp cry, surprising them and they hilted inside you at the same time, turning your cry into a scream, back taut and eyes clenched tightly closed. White flooded your brain, vaguely aware of the hearted moans in your ears as they came, warmth filling you, and their stiff cocks throbbing inside of you.

For a moment afterwards, none of you moved, too focused on the rapid pace of your heart and your erratic breathing. Sweat covered your skin, covering the lovebites and scratch marks you had each left behind on each other. Bokuto’s face was hidden in your shoulder, his chest heaving against your back with uneven breaths, and Tendou’s forehead rested on yours, eyes closed as he too fought to regain his breath.

Bokuto was the first to speak, a broken and huffy, “Wow*.”

You laughed, lacing your fingers between his and squeezing. “Wow is not enough to describe that. You need to expand your vocabulary.”

Tendo huffed at your antics, his sweet breath fanning across your face as he said, “That was absolutely min dblowing. Exquisite. Fantastic. Do any of those work?”

“Much better,” you answered, and almost fell back as Bokuto stood up off the couch. Your legs were too wobbly to hold yourself up properly, and his hand on your back guided you to sit down. You could feel the mess seeping from between your legs and cringed at the idea of getting it all over the couch. Looking up to Bokuto, you said, “I need to go to the bathroom and clean up. Um, help?”

With a laugh, he pulled you up by the hand and lifted you into his arms, carrying you down the hall to the bathroom. You could hear Tendo cackling from the couch at your annoyed whining, smacking Bokuto’s hard muscles. Not that you were really upset, it was just embarrassing that your legs literally refused to work.

After a session in which you got a bit dirtier before you got clean, you were bundled up on the couch again, splayed out over Bokuto’s broad chest while Tendo was squeezed in behind you. His arm was draped over your side, idly tracing patterns into Bokuto’s skin-- as he had neglected to put on a shirt-- his head resting on his shoulder.

You had foregone the previous movie and moved onto The Grudge, the melted ice cream thrown back into the freezer in hopes of salvaging it. Tendo was gonna be pissed if it wasn’t.

Your eyes fluttered shut, half-listening to Bokuto and Tendo’s quiet conversation over your head.

“So, we were gonna go to Tokyo for break. Kuroo and Kenma are going for a gaming convention and invited us along. Akaashi is going too. I know you said you didn’t want to come, but maybe that’s changed?” Bokuto asked, his fingers petting over your wet hair. In the glare from the TV, he could see the insecurity return to Tendo’s eyes, though he tried not to show it.

“Are you sure? I wasn’t gonna go because I was trying to give the two of you--”

The steady rhythm over your hair stopped and your eyes fluttered open for a moment, locking onto the TV. The Grudge was in the corner, staring down at the old woman, making that awful noise, and you shut them again, trying to block out the sound with your partners’ voices.

Bokuto had covered Tendo’s mouth with his hand, cutting him short before he could finish saying “space.”

“It’s the three of us now, if you want it to be. And yes, we want you to go. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Sa-toh-ri,” he said, repeating the name the way Tendou had so many times on the court.

He hadn’t realized Bokuto was listening to him that closely and flushed with warmth.

“Alright, sure. It sounds like fun. Do you know what they’re doing?”

The sounds of the TV and their voices faded, a smile adorning your face as you fell asleep to the knowledge that Tendo had finally realized he was good enough, if only for the right people. It was all you had wanted for him, and if Bokuto was the one to help him figure that out, it was all the better.

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @lyovochkaa @kunimwuah

#bokuto x reader #tendo x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #tendo satori x reader #kotaro bokuto x reader #satori tendo x reader #bokuto x reader x tendo #haikyuu x reader #.make a trade

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