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#why isn't there any other x reader's on tumblr
liafromtheblock · 1 year
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i'm literally BEGGING for more house of anubis fics since it's getting popular again and there's hardly any on here.
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byexbyez · 12 days
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love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader
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pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader
summary:
“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”
You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.
word count: 19k
warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n
notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!
-> read on ao3
>> read PART II.
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And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved
Me and my husband We're doing better
—Me and My Husband, Mitski
It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.
No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.
It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.
You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.
He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.
“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”
You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”
“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.
The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.
He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”
You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.  
“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.
“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”
That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.
“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.
“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”
“Only one?” you chuckle.
“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.
Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.
“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.
“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.
It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.
You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.
It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?
We met at work, you replied shortly.
I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.
We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.
Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???
You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.
I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.
So you both can ask him what he sees in me?
Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.
I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.
Sooo what does he do?
Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.
So you can’t tell me?
I really can’t.
You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.
That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.
He did say he was an orphan, that one time.
It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.
All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.
He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.
“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.
“No.”
“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.
He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.
Happy Birthday, from Leon.
“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”
But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”
He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.
Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.
He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?
Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.
“Why didn’t you eat?”
“I ate cereal,” you answer him.
“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.
“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”
“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”
You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.
“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.
He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”
You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.
You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.  
He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”
“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”
He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.
“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.
He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”
“Yes, mister.”
“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.
“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”
“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.
You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”
He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”
“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.
There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.
He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.
“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.
You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.
“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.
“I’m not that drunk!”
The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.
“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.
You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”
“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.
“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”
“Wouldn’t that be…”
“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”
“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.
He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”
So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.
“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”
You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.
It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.
As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.
You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.
He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”
He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.
“Okay.”
“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”   
People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.
“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”
“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”
He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”
“When do you want to get them?”
That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.
First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?
Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.
Eloped? To whom?
He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.
He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?
Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.
That wasn’t long ago!
I know, right?
You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.
However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.
People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?
Yes, but not really.
The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.
“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.
You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.
“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.
Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.
“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”
“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”
Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.
Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”
Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.
Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.
“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.
His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”
He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.
“Congratulations, for the mission.”
“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”
You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”
“We actually met before. At the funeral.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”  
“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”
“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”
“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”
“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”
“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”
Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”
He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”
“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”
“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”
“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”
“From the Disney movie?”
You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”
He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.
As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.
At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.
“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”
“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”
Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.
His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.
You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.
“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”
“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.
“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”
“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”
“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”
“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.
You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”
“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”
God, why did he have to be so annoying?
The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.  
“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.
“What can I get you, miss?”
Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.
“Eyedrops, please.”
“Miss, are you alright?”
To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.
“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”
“Can I get you anything for that?”
“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”
Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.
Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.
Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”
“What?”
“For your allergy?”
“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”
It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.
“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”
“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”
“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”
“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”
“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”
His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”
How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.
You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.
“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”
Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.
“It?”
“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”
“Will you be okay driving?”
“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”
“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.
“Thank you. See you around?”
“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”
“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”
“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”
“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”
“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”
“Very smooth, Leon.”
He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.
“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”
He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.
I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do
—Like Real People Do, Hozier
The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.
“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.
“I think I can make it.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”
It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.
“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”
“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”
You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”
“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.
“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”
“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”
“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.
“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”
“Can I have it?”
“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”
“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”
Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.
It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.
You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”
She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.
She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.
“You printed it?”
“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.
“You just met Leon today.”
“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”
You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.
Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”
You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?
“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”
“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”
“How did mom know?”
Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”
There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.
Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.
“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.
“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?
You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.
“How’s your leg?” you ask him.
“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”
“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.
“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.
You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”
“I can—”
“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”  
“Would you actually be upset if I—”
“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.
“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”
“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.  
“I do.”
“So, any propositions?”
“Huh?”
“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.
“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.
“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”
“I’d rather not know that!”
“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”
He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.
“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”
Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.  
“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”
She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.
You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.
Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.
“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.
“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.
He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.
“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”
He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.
He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.
This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.
He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”
His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.
Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.
His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.
A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”
A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”
It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.
There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein
—No Plan, Hozier
The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.
He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.
“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.
He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.
As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”
“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”
“How have you been?”
You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”
“Depends on how you define well.”
“You’re still in one piece.”
“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.
Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.
“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”
“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”
“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”
“Oh, they’re talking about me?”
“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”
“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.
“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”
“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”
“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”
“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”
“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.
“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”
“That would be great,” he sighed.
You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”
“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”
Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”
“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.
Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.
“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”
To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”
“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.
Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.
“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.
“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.
“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.  
He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“For you it would?” you inquired.
“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”
“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”
“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.
“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.
“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.
Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”
His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”
It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.
“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”
Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.
Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”  
He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”
He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.
“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.
“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.
“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”
“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”
“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.
“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.
“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”
“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”
“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.
He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.
The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.
Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.
He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.
He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.
Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.
Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.
It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.
But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.
He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?
Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.
Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.
A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.
He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.
“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.
“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.
“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”
Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”
“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.
“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.
“You said a lot of things.”
“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”
“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”
“I didn’t mean to scold you.”
He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”
“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.
“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”
“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.
“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”
“What do you want to hear?”
His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”
“What?”
“Would you marry me? If I asked?”
“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?” 
“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”
Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”
“Who said anything about spite?”
“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”
“I am not.”
“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”
“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”  
You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”
“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”
“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”
He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”
You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”
“Not a friend either.”
Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”
He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”
You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.
“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”
“What?”
“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”
“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”
“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”
You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”
“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.
You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.
Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?
Hi. Yes I remember.
Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?
There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.
I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.
You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.
Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.
I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.
The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.
“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”
“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”
Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.
Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch
—Love Me More, Mitski
It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.
It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.
He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.
It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.
The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.
He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”
“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.
“I forgot.”
Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”
“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”
It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.
“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”
He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”
You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.
“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”
“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.
He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.
“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.
“Yeah, did you clean my room?”
“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”
He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.
“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”
You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.
You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.
However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.
You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.
The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”
You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.
“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.
You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.
“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”
You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”
You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.
“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”
You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.
“Did you have them wrap it up?”
“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”
“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.
His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.
“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”
His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.
He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.
“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.
“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.
You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.
It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.
It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.
You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.
Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.
Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.
“Stop confusing me, Leon.”
“What do you mean?”
“What am I to you exactly?”
“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.
“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”
“We never guaranteed that it would.”
“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”
His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”
“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”
His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”
Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”
“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”
You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.
“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.
“What would she have said?”
“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”
“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”
You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”
“I didn’t know you two were that close.”
“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”
“To become an agent?”
“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”
“What were you studying before?”
“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”
He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”
You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”
He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”
“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”
“Your mom sounds like a great person.”
“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”
“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.
“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”
“Why?”
“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”
“I think I would, too, in that situation.”
“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”
“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.
“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.
“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”
“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”
“How did you know it was going bad?”
“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”
“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”
“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”
“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”
“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”
“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”
“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”
Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.
“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”
Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”
“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”
“Nope.”
From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”
“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”
You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”
“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.
“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”
“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”
“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.
Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.
“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”
Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”
You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”
“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”
“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.
His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”
Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”
“Thank you, that means so much.”
“You didn’t even know her.”
“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”
A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”
A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”
“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”
“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”
“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”
“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.
“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”
Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”
Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”
Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”
“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”
“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”
His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.
Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.
“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”
His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”
You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”
“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”
“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.
“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”
Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”
“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”
His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”
Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”
“No, actually, I found him myself.”
“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”
You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.
“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”
“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”
“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.
Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.
“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”
“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”
There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”
“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.
After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.
“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.
“I haven’t read it.”
 “If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”
“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”
“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”
“Now that’s vile.”
Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight
Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am
—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski
“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”
You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.
There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.
Someone he loves.
“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.
“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”  
“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”
“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”
Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.
You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”
You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”
“There is someone, right? You love them.”
His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.
“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”
“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”
“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”
You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”
He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”
“This is me letting you go.”
“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”
“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”
His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.
“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”
I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.
“Kiss me.”
“That I can do, honey.”
You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.
A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.
“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”
You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.
“Leon—”
He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.
You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.
“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.
He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”
You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.
Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”
He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.
He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.
“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”
“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.
A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.
Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.
You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”
He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.
His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.
“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.
“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”
You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.
“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”
“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.
“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.
Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.
Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.
Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.
Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.
He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”
“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.
“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”
“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.
You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.
“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.
He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”  
He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.
He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.
He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.
“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.
Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.
“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.
“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”
He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.
He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”
Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.
Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.
He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.
“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”
“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”
“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”
After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.
You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.
As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.
“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.
Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”
“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”
“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”
He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”
“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”
“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”
You lie. “I don’t have one.”
He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”
(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!) >> read PART II.
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cassiesc0rner · 3 months
Text
Impurities
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Synopsis: You’re the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs
Genre: suggestive, slight angst,
Pairing: Nate x fem!reader
Warnings: manipulation, lying, misogyny, slutshaming, reader has a negative body image/implied body dismorphia, dark themes, slightly suggestive but no smut in this one, let me know if I missed something
Song rec: music to watch boys to - lana del rey
WC: +8.6k (oops)
Other parts: previous part, next part
A/N: This is my first upload on tumblr help?? Also English isn’t my first language so please keep that in mind and be nice :,) feedback is always appreciated!! Currently working on part 2 ᥫ᭡
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You were the perfect prey for Nate
You were cute, just so fucking cute that it almost drove him crazy, and so polite during lessons, never refusing anyone anything, whether they asked for a pen, or if they could copy your homework, which you always had ready. In his eyes, you were perfect, the only right choice for him.
He knew you wouldn’t fuck up the way Cassie or Maddy did, you wouldn’t disappoint him like they did.
Sure, your style wasn't his thing at all -not that you dressed awful or anything, you were really into y2k, and just loved wearing baggy jeans or any jeans for that matter, and graphic tops combined with sparkly accessories, chains and rings.
He wished you'd wear something more... feminine, like skirts and cute dresses, that show off your assumingly perfect body, he also wished you'd wear brighter colors.
Another thing he loved about you, was that you were really smart and didn't seem to pay attention to boys at all, which surprised him because he was used to girls being all over boys, only wanting one thing from them and he hated it because they were all so predictable.
But you weren’t.
It also kind of scared him at the same time though, because what if you just really weren't into boys to begin with?
He didn't know much about you except for the fact that you loved music, movies and tv shows. Or at least that's what you said, when you had to introduce yourself to the new class.
It had been just a few days prior that he had broken up with Cassie at that time, but he was sure that in this moment, when you stood there in front of the class, with your trembling hands, shy smile and quiet voice, he was head over heels for you.
You just enrolled to East Highland High, you knew no one yet. That had to be his biggest advantage ever, since you didn't know about any of the bad things Nate has done so far, and no one could take you away from him once he earned your trust. Because why would you trust anyone else more than him?
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It was your third day at the new school when he decided to approach you.
During lunch break you sat alone, listening to music as you tried to subtly look around the huge cafeteria, searching for someone else who was alone.
Everyone shared their table with at least two other students, except for you and some other girl that sat alone as well.
You considered approaching her and sitting with her, maybe she was nice and maybe she had other friends? But you decided not to do it, because maybe you'd disturb her or something. You sighed and scrolled through your phone, when you suddenly noticed someone standing in front of your table.
You slowly looked up and noticed it was one of your classmates. You quickly fished one of your earbuds out and stopped the music "Hey.." You said, as you smiled at him. He smiled back at you, the smile genuine as he replied "Hey, can I sit for a moment?" he gestured towards the chair in front of you.
You were confused.
Confused because he wanted to sit with you? Yes, you were new to East Highland High, but this wasn't the first school you ever attended. You could tell who's popular and who isn't.
And Nate Jacobs was definitely popular. He had to be.
Quaterback, extremely tall, and extremely good looking, there was no way he just wanted to sit and talk to someone like you. What if he's gonna bully me? Take my lunch money and beat me up? But that would be absurd.. right?
You nodded before removing the other earbud as well. "What're you listening to?" He asked, genuinely curious "Oh... um... just Lana Del Rey." You said nervously as you looked at your phone, too scared to look him in the eyes.
"Oh cool.. which song?" He'd be lying if he said he knew literally any Lana Del Rey song besides Summertime Sadness and Video Games, but he wanted to know nonetheless. Maybe he'd listen to it at home to check out what kind of music you listen to "It's called..." You hesitated for a moment before finally saying "'Music to watch boys to'" You knew how that sounded.
Nate chuckled once he heard the name of the song and saw your flustered expression "Is that what you're doing? Listening to music while you're watching the boys here?" He joked. You chuckled nervously "No, really that's the last thing I'd do. I'm trying not to look at anyone longer than a second." You smiled as you locked eyes with him for seemingly less than 0.5 seconds.
Nate nodded "Yeah, I can tell." He cleared his throat "Just came over to introduce myself since you're new and everything." He reached over the table, stopping right in front of your phone, inviting you to shake his hand "I'm Nate."
You knew that already, since the two of you had classes together and you paid attention during attendance, to memorize the names of some of your classmates.
You carefully reached over and shook his extremely large hand. "I'm y/n, but you probably know that already." You once again chuckled nervously, thinking back to the painful introduction you went through at each and every new lesson you went to.
"Yeah, right." He nodded, smiling as his mind went there as well. During maths, arts, and English, he was lucky enough to see you introduce yourself over and over again. You slowly retrieved your hand again and Nate couldn't help but feel sad at the loss of contact.
He took a look around the cafeteria before setting his gaze back onto you "So, why are you sitting here all alone?" He asked in a slightly less playful tone "Hm.. I don't know," You shrugged "I guess I just don't know how to approach people." You smiled again.
What Nate had noticed in this short amount of time, is how often you smiled at him, and how you tried to keep that expression.
He didn't only notice it in this moment while he sat in front of you, but also during lessons, whenever someone talked to you, you rarely kept a neutral expression, always a friendly smile on your lips.
You were unbelievably insecure.
Always trying to remain friendly, out of fear of being perceived as unfriendly or unapproachable or anything that could be perceived as negative. He got you figured out faster than you could've imagined.
When he didn't respond, you continued "I actually considered talking to that girl over there, since she's alone as well.."
Nate looked over to the girl you were referring to before smirking and looking back to you "I wouldn't do that." You frowned in confusion "Why? Is she mean or something?" Nate shook his head "She just... doesn't talk, I don't think I've ever seen her talk to anyone before. She always sits alone and stares... into the void or something, even during lessons she barely responds to the teachers." he pointed out.
You sighed "Wow... And I thought I was socially incompetent." He chuckled and shook his head "No believe me, it can always be worse." You nodded and smiled again. Once you didn't reply, Nate continued "But, to be honest, you don't seem socially incompetent at all. You actually seem fun to be around."
You looked up at him again, this time for a bit longer than 0,5 seconds, and raised your eyebrows "You think so?" Nate nodded "Yeah, of course, you don't?"
You thought for a moment am I actually fun to be around? It had honestly been ages since you had actual friends. Sure, you had classmates at your previous schools, who met up with you from time to time. But it never felt like an actual friendship, with trust and sincerity.
You figured that you just weren't easy or fun to be around, that you just bored them eventually, even though you tried to be as fun as possible.
But your parents also played a big role.
Your mom has been strict and didn't want you to go out with friends too much, because she was scared you'd get hurt. She constantly fought with you and your father, because neither you nor your dad shared the same amount of paranoia she seemed to have.
And your dad was constantly moving cities, and even states with the two of you, whenever he had a new, better job offer. East Highland High was probably your third highschool so far, and even if you wanted to stay polite and make friends, you didn't want them to get too close to you, because the moment you had to move it'd be over anyways.
"I don't... know.." You said, and for the first time your smile actually faded. Not into a sad expression, but your smile just seemed to slip, and Nate felt like he got just the slightest bit closer to you.
"I don't really have any friends outside of school, and since I have none here either.." You shrugged again, not sure what to tell him. He nodded "Well.. you have me now, we can be friends." You looked up at him again, your eyes wide. You waited for him to laugh and tell you that all of this was a prank or something, but he didn't.
"Um... Thank you, but you really don't have to do that. I bet you already have plenty of friends." Nate shook his head and said "You can never have enough friends," He had a point, not everyone lived a socially awkward life like you did "besides, as I said, you seem cool to be around." He added.
"Thank you, I'd love to be your friend." You responded with another smile. Nate couldn't believe that he got this close to you in just five minutes, and that you didn't seem to question any of his intentions at all. In his eyes, he didn't only achieve his goals for the day, he also did you a huge favour.
You had someone you could count on, someone to hang out with, you weren’t alone anymore.
Then the doorbell rang, informing everyone that the break was over now.
"Alright, we have maths now, let’s go together, yeah?" He asked as he got up. You nodded and grabbed your phone, stuffing it in your bag before you got up as well.
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Two weeks passed after you first talked to Nate, and as it turns out, he really seemed to be your friend.
You went shopping together, spent time mostly at your place, because your mom wanted to keep an eye on him since he was a stranger and most importantly a boy, and you even went to his football game once. You seemed truly happy whenever you were with him.
A little too happy for your own liking.
Because deep down you knew you might have to leave him behind eventually, or that he'd get bored of you at some point.
Not to mention that you, against your own will, developed a small crush on him. But who could blame you when he was the first boy who ever truly cared for you like he did? Or bought you gifts and showered you with affection like he did?
Yeah that was another thing that Nate did. He loved buying things for you.
At first it were just small things like ice cream from the gas station, or snacks from vending machines. But eventually, the gifts got bigger and bigger despite you telling him that you couldn’t possibly pay him back.
Sure, your dad's job did pay him a lot, but you were sure that Nate's dad had to earn at least twice as much for his son to be able to buy that many things.
Last time you two went to the mall and he saw a pair of earrings for more than 200$, he dragged you along with him and showed them to you saying "They'd look so pretty on you." It almost felt like he was your boyfriend.
Usually the girls in the movies you watched would pressure their boyfriends into buying them expensive jewelry, and into spending their money on them, but Nate seemed to be the other way he around.
He was pressuring you into allowing him to spend his money on you.
Just like that day when the two of you went into another boutique, because Nate convinced you that "it'll be fun!", to put it in his words.
The moment you stepped into the boutique, you felt somewhat uneasy. You walked in with your ripped jeans and tank top on, and the only clothes you saw were dresses, skirts, and tops that you'd never consider buying. Not to mention the shoes that they sold, looked nowhere near as comfortable as your sneakers did.
Nate knew that.
He only had to look at your face for a split second to know what you're feeling. You felt like you wouldn't fit in, or like these clothes wouldn't suit you. But he knew how to convince you.
He spent two entire weeks with you after all.
Any normal person would say that's not enough to fully know somebody, but Nate had his ways of finding out almost every insecurity, fear and worry of yours, just by subtly asking the right questions.
And none of them shocked him, since he already figured out that you were socially anxious and insecure.
But he also knew what you needed. You craved someone who loves you and gives you constant reassurance, someone who tells you what to do and who to go out with, like your mom did, because that's all you knew your entire life.
You needed to be loved and touched, craving intimacy with literally anyone, because you never had friends who'd hug you tightly when you were anxious, or hold you close when you needed it, and your parents didn't either.
And he could give you all of that and more, once the time was right.
He also figured that you haven't had a boyfriend yet, or haven't been intimate with anyone yet, and that thought alone made him crave you even more, if that was even possible.
The fact that he would be your first everything, was enough to get him going, and motivated him to show you your true potential.
And he knows that you’d let him.
He always dreamt about how easily you'd let him have his way with you, and how he'd corrupt you. Nate had sadistic thoughts as well, fantasizing about making you cry and beg him for forgiveness for something that wasn’t even your fault.
He also dreamt of leaving marks and bruises all over your body, so that you and everyone else knew you’re his.
But he wouldn't want to hurt you, he knew from experience how bad that could end for him.
And the moment he saw your innocent eyes looking up at him and your smile while doing so, the violent thoughts got replaced with the need to protect you from any man that even just walked near you.
"You okay?" He asked casually before he walked towards one of the racks with skirts. "Mhm.. I just don't think I want to buy anything here, Nate..." You said as you nervously looked down at your feet, feeling bad for possibly disappointing him.
Nate turned around and looked at you "Don't you want to try something on at least?" Before he let you respond, he came up with an idea "How about this, I'll put together an outfit and you can try it on and see for yourself if you like it or not." He asked, but it was more of a demand than a question.
You sighed and looked around the store, noticing that they also had jeans skirts, and a dark red leather skirt that you thought was really pretty. Nate's eyes followed your gaze and he immediately started searching for something he wanted you to try on.
Sure, a jeans skirt might be a good start as well, since it might make you feel a bit more comfortable and at least show off your legs, but the leather skirt was just absolutely slutty in his eyes. He didn't want you to walk around at school -or anywhere for that matter- like that, like you're 'asking for it'.
While you walked towards the two skirts, Nate walked towards another section. He picked out a pastel pink short sleeve top, with a bow in the middle and a sweetheart neckline. He smirked as he imagined you inside the rather tight top, knowing that he's the only guy that would be near you while all the other boys could only dream of being close to you.
He then picked out a pair of black flats, which he knew you wouldn't be opposed to, simply because of the color alone, white stockings and a white and pink plaid mini skirt.
Then he walked over to you, as you still looked at the various skirts. "y/n, your outfit is ready!" Nate exclaimed once he was behind you, and you couldn't help but flinch as he pulled you out of your daydream.
You turned around and looked at his full hands, trying not to grimace at the bright colours. The shoes looked alright however, and where the only dark piece of clothing. "Nate, that won't suit me," you said as he handed you the clothes over "are you sure you want me to try it on?" you didn't even finish the question before he nodded.
You sighed before walking towards the changing room. "I'll wait outside until you're done." he said before you closed the door.
Once it was closed you sighed once more and started to undress. You liked Nate, more than just in a friendly platonic way, and if any other guy would've told you to dress up like that, you definitely would've refused.
But Nate did so many nice things for you, the least you could do was to make him laugh for a bit. Because you already expected that that's what he'll do once he sees you in this outfit.
Once you were left in your underwear you looked into the mirror, feeling insecure. You didn't like your body at all. You just weren't shaped like the girls on the cheer squad, and you also didn't seem to have their proportions. And now you had to wear a skirt that would expose your huge legs and belly.
You felt sick at the thought of Nate seeing you in this outfit. You looked at the skirt and panicked because what if he thought you're skinnier, and he picked the wrong size? You'd have to tell him to get you a size bigger, and it would be super embarrassing.
You put on the top first and gulped when you noticed how tight it was, your chest on display. But you were sure it was supposed to sit a bit tighter. Then you shakily grabbed the skirt and put it on, and surprisingly it closed and sat perfectly fine. Except for the fact that it was quite short.
You then put on the stockings which ended right above your knee, and the shoes. You looked into the mirror again and turned to the side, throwing various poses to check it out from different angles.
And then you frowned, because for some reason the fit looked pretty cute, but... would you actually go out like this? Definitely no- "Are you ready?" Nate asked impatiently. You started to contemplate whether or not you wanted Nate to actually see you like that.
"Um... y-yes but it looks really stupid i'm gonna undress again-""No!" he almost yelled, startling you "Please let me see, I bet it looks good." he rolled his eyes, glad that you couldn't see him behind that door.
He liked that you weren't too confident or too sure of yourself and needed his reassurance, but he really wished you'd actually listen to him right now.
And then you finally opened the door "Come in.." and it really took everything in him to not rip the door open and gawk at you.
He gently opened the door and looked at you, his eyes wandering from your head, which was hung low as if in shame, to your exposed cleavage, to the way the stockings hugged your legs, to your shoes.
He had to control himself or else he'd pop a boner right here, right in front of you, because, god you looked so pretty. With the way your hands were fidgeting again just like the first time he saw you. You looked so shy and submissive under his gaze.
"You look so pretty..." he said in a serious tone, so serious in fact, that you immediately looked up at him. "Really? I feel kinda..." you didn't dare to finish the sentence.
The last time you called yourself fat in front of him, he almost lost it. He got just as serious as he was right now, saying that you looked fine and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with you.
Sure you weren't shaped like Maddy was, and you didn't have the perfect thigh gap, but Nate was aware that you were extremely pretty nonetheless. You were almost perfect, and everything that wasn't perfect would be taken care of.
Like your style.
This was a small step for him but a huge one for you, and it would be an even bigger step for you to dress like that on the daily, but he's sure he can help you with that.
"Seriously, you look absolutely.. wow." he added, and it only got you more flustered. Maybe dressing like this isn't so bad if Nate thinks it's pretty, hell even if he's the only who thinks so, his words affected you more than anything anyone at East Highland High could possibly say. "Wow.. Thank you.."
He cleared his throat and took a step closer, towering over you even more. "You obviously don't have to listen to me,” he lied “but... I personally think it looks better than your usual dark outfits." When you looked back into the mirror he continued "You shouldn't hide behind those… wide pants and loose tops, you should wear more outfits like this and show everyone how pretty you look."
When he saw you smile, he knew he had you where he wanted you. It wasn't just a forced smile, it was a real one, a flustered one. You loved that he found you pretty, even if you couldn't see it for yourself. And he knew how important his opinion was to you.
Hearing his compliments alone made you want to change your style a little, just so that he doesn't change his opinion. "You really think this fits me?" You asked one more time to make sure that he actually meant it.
He nodded eagerly placing his hands onto your shoulders "I promise." He felt like he could melt with the way you were looking up at him "I would never lie to you, you know that, right?" As if in trance you looked into his eyes and nodded.
"Yeah of course." You smiled up at him, feeling so small in front of him. "I'll try to check for cheaper options though, if you don't mind. Maybe something that isn't from an expensive boutique." you chuckled. He frowned instantly before responding "No, keep the outfit, I'll pay for it."
You shook your head right away, thinking back to the expensive things he had bought you already. "Nate, you need to stop spending so much money on me, I mean it. I highly doubt that i'm the only friend you spend that much money on."
Nate tried not to laugh at your statement. Of course you were the only person he spent that much money on.
As if he'd buy McKay, or any of his other 'friends' for that matter, anything above 10 bucks. "Y/n, I promise I’m not spending too much money." You wanted to believe him, but deep down you knew why Nate did all this.
Or at least you thought you did.
He was used to being used for money by his friends, there couldn't be another explanation, it had to be the reason. Why else would he feel the need to buy you, who he saw as his friend, so many expensive things?
"And also I kinda forced you to try it on, it's the right thing to do, trust me." You sighed shaking your head in disbelief "Fine, but you really don't have to, you know that?" He nodded as a smile made its way onto his lips.
He wished he could kiss you right now, but needless to say that wasn't possible yet. He couldn't wait for the day he would finally have you to himself, safe and happy with him. Walking next to you, with your hand in his, he could already imagine Cassie's and Maddy's faces when they see the two of you.
Nate wasn't blind nor oblivious, he saw the way Cassie eyed you like she wanted to murder you, or the way Maddy would shake her head whenever she looked at the two of you walking down the hallway.
Sure he had to come up with a plausible story before one of them could get to you without him noticing, and ruin his perfect plan. He honestly doesn't know what would happen to them if they decided to ruin his plan.
But that wasn't important right now.
What mattered was that you finally owned the perfect outfit, only because of him, and you’d only wear it for him too. You didn't even talk back or hesitate as much as he had expected.
Everything was going according to plan, and it was only a matter of time until you would cave in fully and listen to him all the time.
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The next day you got ready for school, and decided to put on the outfit Nate had gotten you the day prior, but combined with a long cardigan to prevent you from flashing anyone at school.
Not to mention your mom who would probably freak out once she saw your outfit for school.
You brushed your hair, and put on the earrings Nate bought you previously. They were beautiful, dangling bows with a small diamond in the middle.
You told Nate he didn't have to buy them for you and that you'd find a cheaper variant online, but he insisted nonetheless.
You wondered what it would be like to be his girlfriend as you applied your lipstick.
Not that you'd actually ever be his girlfriend. He probably wouldn't even consider dating me.. was all you could think. And you also wouldn't ever consider actually dating him.
What if you'd have to move again? It wouldn't only break your heart, but his too.
"Y/n?" Your mom pulled you out of your thoughts as she stood in front of your now open door -because knocking was completely overrated anyways.
She gave you a disapproving look as her eyes moved up and down your frame. You hadn't put on the cardigan yet, so you could only assume what she's thinking. "What are you wearing?" She finally spoke.
You sighed as you looked down at your feet. "Mom I-" She immediately shook her head "Nate told you to wear this, didn't he?" You groaned in frustration, all hopes of avoiding any confrontation now gone.
Your mom scoffed at your lack of response. "Have you seen yourself? You look like..." You raised your head and looked at your mom "Like what?" She crossed her arms and sighed "Like someone else!"
You knew that this wasn't what came to her mind first, but decided not to comment on it. "No one forced me to wear this. I wanted to wear this." Your mom frowned, not believing you one bit.
And even if you wanted to go to school like that, she felt sick at the thought of all the boys seeing her daughter in such an outfit. "Get changed, right now."  Was all she said before turning around and leaving your room.
You stomped after her "I'm going to be late to school if I change now!" you yelled as you followed her into the kitchen where your dad sat, completely unfazed by the argument which was taking place.
"That's your own fault, and don't yell at me like that." She responded, not even looking at you. "Mom, I'm not going to change."
She turned around once she grabbed her mug from the kitchen counter. "Oh but you are already. You are changing, because you would never wear something like this, especially not to school."
"Am I not allowed to change my style once in a while? You never approve of the way I dress anyways so why are you making a big deal out of this now?." She shook her head once again "You don't get it, y/n. You're... changing, as in ‘you’re becoming someone that you’re not’!" you scoffed in disbelief "I'm a teenager, of course I'm changing."
You turned away from your parents, and made your way to the hallway to put your shoes on. Once you reached your shoes you heard footsteps following you "You're really gonna go to school like that?" Your mom asked.
Once you slipped into one shoe you turned around and nodded. "You're grounded young lady, I hope you're aware of that." You slipped into the other shoe as you responded "I've been grounded my entire life, mom. Try harder." you said as you pushed past her to get your backpack.
Your mother just stood in the hallway, completely baffled. But before she could think of anything to say, you left the house already. Quickly making your way to Nate's truck.
Nate loved picking you up from home.
He wished you'd let him pick you up anywhere anytime, no matter where you were, but you only let him pick you up when you both had the same lessons in the morning.
He had told you that he'd pick you up even if you started earlier than him, but you immediately brushed it off.
Once you saw him your frown disappeared and you tried to smile again.
But Nate noticed. He always noticed when you were frowning, and when he saw your outfit he could already imagine what or specifically who made you frown.
To say that Nate disliked your parents would be an understatement. Whenever he would come over to your place, your mom would eye him and make snarky remarks.
Not only that, but she would sometimes enter your room -without knocking of course- every ten minutes to check on you, always with some sort of excuse as to why, just to make sure that the two of you weren't doing anything she would disapprove of.
He couldn't even hug you goodbye when he'd leave because when he did it once, your mom eyed him as if he was hurting you.
And your dad? He didn't know if he hated him even more.
He was barely there when Nate came over, and whenever you'd talk about him you would complain about him never caring about your arguments with your mom. He simply stayed out of it until it would annoy him, then he'd simply tell his wife to 'calm down' and that you 'shouldn't overreact'
And if you still wouldn't stop fighting with her, he'd simply get up and smoke outside or drive off to god knows where.
Having an overbearing mother and an absent father didn't do you any good, he'd gladly just have you move in with him, but his dad was probably even worse to live with than yours was.
"Everything alright?" Nate asked once you stepped inside the car, put your seatbelt on and sighed. You nodded, not looking at him "My mom's just mad at me because I'm wearing this to school today.." you explained as you fidgeted with your skirt.
That's when you noticed that you totally forgot to put on your cardigan in the heat of the moment. You mentally face palmed, knowing that you'd have to walk around like that without being able to hide at least a little bit of your body.
Nate nodded as he started the car. "I'm sorry to hear that... She’s always picking fights with you for no reason..." You nodded as you looked out of the passenger's window.
He looked at your thighs, which were just slightly on display, and fuck he would do everything just to touch them.
He decided to test the waters and reassuringly placed his hand on your thigh. You flinched slightly, not expecting the sudden gesture, but you didn't react in any way, which relieved him a lot.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, yeah? You can always come to my place or call me and I'll be there to pick you up and get your mind off things, alright?" You nodded with a soft smile on your lips.
You slowly turned back to him "Where have you been all my life? I would've needed you way sooner." Nate tried to contain his happiness.
You telling him you needed him, letting him touch your thigh and wearing his outfit? He was sure that he was the happiest man alive right now.
"Yeah, I also wish I could've been there sooner. But I'm here now, and I'm not gonna leave again." he assured. You placed your hand atop his on your thigh and nodded "Thank you.."
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Everything was going so so well, until this Jake guy from your arts class decided to speak to you. He must've seen you with Nate, the two of you were almost inseparable after all. Did he have a death wish or something?
The way he looked at you as well, it made him sick.
You didn't even notice it, you were your usual friendly self, telling him something Nate couldn't make out from his seat, two rows behind the two of you. But it couldn't have possibly been funny enough for him to laugh so hard, that he had to place his hand on your shoulder for support.
He never cared much about Jake, never even talked to the guy, but he'd love to beat the shit out of him right now. Only stopping when you tell him to.
But based on your personality, you'd probably stop him right away.
Nate had more than enough however, when the guy still had his hand on your shoulder after ten seconds.
Nate got up, the sound of the chair scraping along the tiles on the floor so loud, that both you and Jake turned around right away.
Nate stared daggers into Jake as he made his way to the two of you, resulting in Jake's eyes widening slightly and him finally removing his hand from your shoulder "Move." was all Nate needed to say for Jake to smile at you one last time before immediately getting up and walking to his friend's desk.
You frowned at Nate not sure what had gotten into him. "Are you mad? Is everything okay?" You asked, worry evident on your face.
He was more than happy that you reacted this way and didn't ask him what the fuck was wrong with him for scaring the poor guy like that.
He shook his head before smiling "Everything's fine don't worry.. Jake's just really flirty with every girl that he sees, I just wanted to protect you." he reasoned.
You frowned, not aware that Jake has ever flirted with any girls in your classes, or you to begin with. He just seemed friendly, but you brushed it off nonetheless, knowing that Nate probably knew him better than you did.
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"Wait, you’ve never had a boyfriend?" Nate asked in feigned disbelief, as you two sat in his living room after school one day. You shook your head in response as you waited for Nate to laugh at you.
Except, he didn't.
It only made him happier that you finally confirmed his theory.
He didn't expect you to have any ex-partners, since you told him you never really socialized or had stable friendships with anyone in the past.
He figured you also hadn't been in a relationship as well then. But your confirmation only made him happier. And you didn't seem like the type to just sleep with the next best boy you meet so he figured you also must be a virgin.
And he was eating it up.
Whenever he'd jerk himself off, he’d think about you and how fucking amazing you'd feel around him. How shy you would be in front of him once you two got intimate for the first time.
And after every time he came, he craved you even more. It took everything within him to refrain from picking you up and carrying you in his bed whenever you came over.
But he always told himself that the wait would be worth it.
He'd wait just for you, no matter how long it'd take.
"I just never got to form that kind of connection with anyone, since I barely talk to people.." You said as you played with the hem of your red sundress.
Yeah, you also started wearing dresses.
You told yourself that Nate wasn't the reason for it, but you knew that without him, you would have never considered wearing them in the first place.
You saw the way he looked at that one cheerleader, during one of his games last week and despite the fact that you never wanted to date him, you couldn't help but feel the urge to be... perfect in front of him.
Nate also noticed that.
Before, you'd just wear your baggy jeans to school, preferring comfort over style. But ever since last week, you seemed to constantly wear dresses and skirts.
Not only that, but you also did your best to appeal to him. You wore more make up, you shaved your arms despite not being too hairy to begin with. You pout so much effort into looking even more beautiful than you were already.
He wasn't sure why though, because he didn't push you that much after you went to the boutique. He was praying that you only do it for him and not to impress any other boy at school though.
"Besides, it's useless anyways. Who knows when my father is gonna move again.." You said, suddenly feeling sad as you thought about your life without Nate.
Nate considered that as well.
He didn't like the idea at all and he'd do anything to stop that from happening. To stop your parents from taking you away from him.
Hell, he'd buy you a flat somewhere if he has to, or have you move in with him if that's what it took.
Nate took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles "Hey, don't think about that alright? We'll find a solution if that should happen." he said reassuringly.
You nodded, a small smile on your face. You loved it when Nate was affectionate. You seemed to be the only person he was genuinely nice to.
"What about you though? I bet you had plenty of relationships." You grinned, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.
Nate chuckled "Yeah I didn't have that many relationships, but the ones I had were… intense." He answered "Oh, that bad?" you asked as you frowned at him.
He was more than glad you asked, because now he could finally tell you about Maddy and Cassie in a subtle way.
Once he was done, you’d never even consider believing them.
He nodded in response "Yeah... I was with Maddy for a pretty long time, do you know her?" he asked, hoping to find out whether she's talked to you or not.
You thought for a moment before nodding your head. "I think she's in one of my classes. Maddy... Perez?" Nate nodded, swallowing hard.
He was hoping you didn't know her, praying that the both of you never cross paths. But that was hopeless considering how popular she was.
"She's.. definitely something." You chuckled dryly as you couldn't help but compare yourself to her.
You didn't stand a chance with Nate if that's his type.
You always thought she was really pretty, and since she was on the cheerleading team, you knew she must be popular too. You always saw her with her group of friends and you admired her style, her beauty, her confidence, everything.
But she always seemed to give you weird looks and now you could imagine why. She probably was still in love with Nate, and didn’t like him having female friends.
Nate noticed the smile on your face falter just a slight bit, and he could only assume that she must've treated you badly that bitch, always causing fucking problems
"What do you mean?" You shrugged, unsure of how to explain it "She just... She's really pretty and I like her style. I wanted to compliment her before but she always gives me this look." You responded, your gaze locked onto the carpet.
Nate frowned at the thought of her.
How dare she even look your way? And how dare she make you feel uncomfortable? He could imagine why she was looking at you though, probably annoyed by how much time you and him spend, and how obedient you were already.
Something she could never do.
"But maybe I'm just imagining things, I might be a bit paranoid.. She's really pretty though, I bet the two of you looked great together.." Nate cringed at your words.
He couldn’t stand her, and the thought of everything he did for her, despite her acting like a bitch all the time, made his blood boil. The sound of her voice alone gave him chills, reminding him of how often she’d yell at him in front of her friends.
He's sure that you and him would look way better together.
"I'm honestly glad we're not together anymore.. She was awfully mean, and just so ungrateful." he sighed as he looked to the ground. "She constantly blamed me for everything when she was clearly at fault, fuck, she even..."
You weren't sure if you've seen Nate so vulnerable before, so hurt and all because of that girl. "…She even cheated on me at a party, in front of everyone, just because we had an argument." your eyes widened.
You did not expect Maddy to be such a bad person. Especially to someone like Nate, he seemed like he'd give his all to the person he loves. He was giving you his all and you weren't even his girlfriend.
You removed your hand from his, and scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm around his firm back and leaning your head against his arm. "I'm so sorry Nate.. you didn't deserve that.." You said as you stroked his back.
Nate suddenly got goosebumps, not expecting you to hug him like that. He was convinced he deserved an oscar for that performance, that's for sure. He leaned into your touch, enjoying how close he was to you, and the sweet scent of your perfume.
"It's alright... I got over it eventually. Sometimes people just disappoint you and you have to learn to live with it." he responded.
Which was an absolute fucking lie.
He still wanted to hurt her for humiliating him like that back at the pool, and he also still prays for her downfall and a chance to humiliate her just as bad.
You lifted your head and looked at him "We don't have to speak about her anymore if you don't want to. I'll even slap her for you if you want." you said half jokingly.
You'd never purposefully hurt anyone, or risk being the center of attention at school. But you just wanted to see Nate happy. He seemed so sad right now and even if he said he's over it, you knew he wasn't.
Nate chuckled before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you flat against his chest "There's no need for that. I'm just glad that you're here right now, you're all I need." He said as he stroked your shoulder.
You tried not to freak out.
The fact that he held you so close and literally told you that you're all he needed made you feel things, you didn't want to feel.
You didn't want to feel like he liked you more than just in a platonic way. You didn't want to get your hopes up, hell you didn't even want to have a crush on him.
You were so sure that you didn't have a chance, especially when he told you who his ex girlfriend was, but then why did he treat you like that? Why did he tell you you were all he needed?
“Do you also know Cassie, by chance?” he asked after a moment of silence. You thought for a moment, before shaking your head. He sighed, both in relief and in annoyance as he remembered her.
“Cassie and I also used to date. But she turned into an absolute psycho after some time. She was totally obsessed with me…” Nate explained before he sighed. “If she ever talks to you, tell me, alright? Same with Maddy, don’t talk to any of them.” he added suddenly very serious.
You nodded in response “What exactly did she do..? If you don’t mind me asking.” You asked carefully, since it seemed to be a touchy subject for him.
“She was.. possessive, unpredictable, and insecure. I was scared of her sometimes I can’t even lie... She just has this insane look in her eyes, at first I didn’t notice it but as our relationship progressed, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”
Your eyes widened once again. If she really was that possessive over Nate, what if she thinks you two are together? Would she actually hurt you? You swallowed hard at the thought.
Nate observed your reaction, taking notice of how pale you became suddenly He didn't mean to scare you, but he had to warn you, in order to protect you from both of them.
"Jeez, that's... actually scary." you chuckled dryly, not sure how to react to the newfound information. "Don't worry though, I'll protect you from them, you got nothing to worry about." he said as he looked at you longingly.
Would it be too soon to ask you to be his now?
Probably the wrong moment to ask you, since he just told you about his crazy ex girlfriends. But he didn't want to wait any longer, he couldn't wait much longer.
Not when his need for you became stronger and stronger.
Sure, being your friend and spending time with you was amazing. You were sweet, funny and you wouldn't refuse him a thing. But it wasn't enough for him, not really.
He needed to act soon, because it frustrated him more and more each day. Nate just had to catch you talking to a boy from your class and it made him furious.
Not to mention how sexually frustrated he was.
His hand was not enough to satisfy him anymore, he craved so much more and that only caused him to be insufferable at times, unable to relax and always in a bad mood.
He really tried his hardest not to lash out on you like he did on McKay or his teammates. He was sure that if Cassie dared to approach him or you he'd absolutely lose his shit.
“Didn’t know you were home yet.”
You and Nate turned towards the person who just entered the living room in unison. It was Nate’s brother Aaron.
Great.
Nate rolled his eyes and sighed. Why was he home already? “Yeah, school ended earlier today.” He replied drily. He did not want Aaron to interact with you in any way, since he knew how off putting he could be.
“Let’s go,” Nate got up as he looked at you with a cold expression. You knew not to ask any questions when he got like this, so you just nodded and got up from the sofa.
“Woah, who are you? New girlfriend?” Your eyes widened as you laughed nervously “Oh, n-no we’re just really good friends.” You stated as you smiled at his brother.
And it bothered Nate so much. Why were you smiling at him? He knew you only wanted to be polite, but it bothered him because Aaron wasn’t worthy of your politeness or smile.
He wanted to be the only guy you smile at, even though that’s basically impossible with how fucking nice you were.
Aaron smiled back at you, as he playfully tilted his head to the side “That’s surprising, d’you have a boyfriend already?” He asked before he looked you up and down “Because you’re definitely Nate’s type.”
The room fell silent for a moment, mostly because you didn’t know what to say to that at all, and because Nate tried his hardest not to turn into an aggressive asshole in front of you.
You once again chuckled nervously, before you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling like your heart would jump out any moment. “Um… I don’t have a boyfriend and I’m sure that I’m not Nate’s type.”
You didn’t even know why you said the last part, because you could tell that Nate was fuming more and more with each word you said to him. Before Aaron could respond, Nate did “Alright enough, Aaron, we’ll head upstairs now if you don’t mind.”
Aaron sighed exaggeratedly “That’s too bad, I really enjoyed the company of…?” he said as he looked towards you now “Y/n.” You responded, and Aaron nodded “Y/n, go ahead, you know where my room is.” Nate commanded.
You really wish it didn’t, but his demanding tone and sudden change of persona really did something to you. It excited you in a way.
You nodded and walked towards the hallway, where Aaron was standing. Before you could pass him though, he moved in front of you, looking down at you with a predatory grin “You know, if Nate doesn’t want you, I’d be totally down-”
Your eyes widened in response as you heard Nate stomping towards the two of you.
Nate had more than enough by now, “Shut the fuck up already!” He almost yelled. Aaron chuckled “I was just joking around why’re you so mean in front of your cute little friend?” He mocked before smirking at you again.
Nate turned towards you, this time even more irritated “Go upstairs, now.” You gulped and finally moved towards the stairs again, quickly making your way up.
You were sitting on Nate’s bed as you could hear his deep voice downstairs and you were sure he���d actually beat his brother up. You couldn’t make out what he was saying except for a very loud “Stay the fuck away from her!”
You didn’t have to wait for long until Nate entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him. He eyed you with a mixture of possessiveness and longing but also with a hint of softness.
His mind was currently occupied with fantasies about fucking you on his bed, while you moan about how good he feels, and how he’s the only one you need, while his brother is forced to listen to your moans that echo through the entire house. Knowing he could never be lucky enough to be in his spot.
He wondered if you’d be into that? If you had this corrupt side that no one knew about. Maybe you fantasized about him as well?
“Sorry about my brother, he’s a fucking asshole.” Nate stated as he walked towards you. “I hope he didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable..” He added as his gaze softened.
You shook your head, your signature smile on your lips “No, don’t worry. Are you okay though? I hope you guys didn’t fight too hard..”
He loved how considerate you were despite everything that happened. Despite Nate being somewhat rude to you earlier, and his brother making you uncomfortable, you still cared for Nate.
“No, not much more than we usually do, don’t worry.” He sighed as he plopped down on the bed next to you. “Wanna watch a movie?” He asked as he tilted his head to the side. You smiled and nodded in response.
Nate turned his TV on and grabbed the remote before he plopped down onto his bed again. He scooted towards you, wrapping his arm around you and you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt more at peace than in moments like these. Nestled against him, comfortably on his bed.
And Nate felt the same way, if not even more at peace.
You were his escape from his fucked up family just as much as he was yours, and you were the only one he truly cared for besides himself. He couldn’t wait until he could finally call you his.
In his eyes you were his already, from the moment he first laid eyes on you. And he’s come so far, molded you into perfection. There’s no way he’d let you go.
All that was left now, was to make you officially his.
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✎ Thank you so so so much for reading I hope you liked it :3 again don’t be shy to give me honest feedback, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡
- Cassandra
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avatar-anna · 25 days
Text
Where It All Began
Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader
i had this finished hours ago and then tumblr didn't save it and i wanted to throw my phone out a window.
also, i don't write smut so if it's bad say nothing 🫣
When you saw Harry on the other side of your open door, you immediately slammed it shut in his face.
"Oh, come on, princess, don't be like that!"
"Go away!" you groaned loud enough that he could hear through the door.
Harry did not go away. His head thudded against the door instead. You could almost picture his forehead pressed against it, small pout on his lips for not getting his way.
"Are you really going to ignore me? After everything we've been through together?"
No. "Yes. And stop calling me princess!" you said, a little louder this time.
"I know you love it," Harry said. "You had quite a different reaction when I said it last week. A week, princess. How long are you gonna keep me in agony here?"
The night in question was one you'd been trying and failing to forget. It was a slip, a lapse in judgement, something you didn't think about carefully before doing it, and now look at where you were. Harry had been trying to talk to you, both discreetly and not so discreetly ever since, but you'd given him the cold shoulder, for no other reason than if you stayed too long in his presence you might've slipped again.
Hooking up with your mortal enemy was a horrible idea, one you were now paying dearly for.
With a scoff, you said through the door, "Don't act like half the school isn't lined up to sleep with you. Go be with one of them."
It was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from Harry. You didn't judge him for his alleged sexual prowess, but you wanted someone committed to you and only you. If you wanted someone, that is. Between your studies and figure skating, there was no room for relationships of any kind, especially not with arrogant hockey players. Especially not Harry Styles.
"You really want that to be it?" Harry asked, ignoring your comment. "I mean it was great, but a coat closet isn't conducive to showing off my best work. Come on, princess, let me show you some of my best work."
"Maybe I don't want to because it wasn't satisfying enough." Liar. You knew it, and he knew it too.
"The stains on my shirt from you squirting everywhere say otherwise," he said, and your cheeks heated immediately. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the satisfaction in it as he remembered how you came on his fingers. It made your core pulse, but you mentally scolded yourself.
"Nothing to say to that, huh? I thought so," he said. "I can't help it now that I'm hooked, Y/n. I need that everywhere. Can you imagine riding me when you do that? Or sitting on my face? God please sit on my—"
You finally opened the door and yanked Harry inside before slamming it shut again. "Keep your voice down!" you hissed.
If you weren't so annoyed with him, you would've noticed Harry was looking at you with hearts in his eyes, but it would be a long time before you realized he looked at you like that all the time.
But unfortunately, all you saw was his smirk, his dimples set deep in his cheeks as he looked you up and down. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you had just let me in in the first place. It's not my fault you need a physical barrier to keep yourself from throwing yourself at me."
"I—I did not throw myself at you!"
"You did, but that's okay. I liked it."
"You're infuriating!"
"And you're stubborn! And blind!"
"Blind? To what?"
With each word exchanged, Harry backed you up until your back hit your bed. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. It was either push him away or give in to him.
"Look at me, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when I say this to you," he said, voice now hushed and gravelly now that he was in your room. You looked up, unable to ignore the command in his tone or the way it turned your insides molten.
"I want you, Y/n. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night. Since—"
"Since?" you asked, curious why he stopped all of a sudden.
"Nevermind. The point is that I want you, and I know you want me. You can't tell me someone else has made you feel as good as I have."
No one had, and it was infuriating. You couldn't deny it, not when he was staring at you so intensely. So you fell back on your tried and true excuse. "I don't have time—"
"You think I have all sorts of free time?" Harry asked. "Both of our schedules are crazy, Y/n. All I'm asking is for you to give it a try."
"Give what a try? Sleeping together?"
Something shifted in Harry's expression, but it was back to his heated gaze before you could process it. "Yeah, princess. You need someone to take your frustrations out on? Take them out on me. Need a break from studying? I'm there. Just need someone to fuck you so hard that you forget how to think properly? Well, you saw what I did with just my fingers."
"So...just hooking up," you confirmed. "No dating."
"No dating," Harry agreed, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, the light touch sending shivers down your spine. "Just sex."
"And no one else can know," you managed to get out before finally giving in. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to kiss him, to tear his clothes off and taste him everywhere. But you had to say this first. "I don't want our friends weighing in or giving us a hard time."
"Might have to be really quiet sometimes, then. Think you can handle it?"
He was so self-assured. It was something that annoyed you to no end, but now made your pulse quicken. You were wet from the gravel in his voice alone, feeling it skitter along your skin and turning your core molten. You wanted him. It was time to stop denying yourself the pleasure he was promising you. But first, you needed to level the playing field a bit.
You kissed him, taking Harry by surprise but he was quick to recover. Shoving your hands in his hair, you threw off the baseball cap that always sat backwards on his head. He groaned against your mouth as you pulled at the roots, the sound going straight between your legs.
Hands were everywhere, and so was Harry's tongue. His mouth was on your neck, your jaw, your collar bones and chest. It was enough of a distraction to slip your hands to his waist, to flick off the button of his jeans and slide them down until they looked on the floor.
Harry stepped out of them with ease, following your lead as you turned until his back was against your bed. His eyes were heavy with lust, widening slightly as you got down on your knees and pulled his briefs down. You caught him in your hand, unable to stop yourself from licking your lips at the sight of him.
His cock was long and hard, the tip and angry shade of red, as if just blowing on it might send him over the edge. You did just that, curious to know the answer. Harry didn't come, but he made a strangled sound that made you smile. Looking up at him innocently, you finally asked him, "Can you?"
"Can I—Fuck. "Can I what, princess?"
You didn't answer right away, satisfied with making him wait. Satisfied with the moans and stuttered breaths and the harsh grip in your hair as you played with him.
Harry's cock was heavy in your mouth, and it took everything in you not to show how much you enjoyed sucking him off. Giving pleasure was something that got you off, but with him it was all dialed up. You could feel your underwear dampen as you took him further down your throat, your eyes watering as you bobbed back and forth.
Before he could hit the back of your throat, Harry's grip on your hair tightened and pulled you off him. Almost embarrassingly, you tried to reach him but he held you back.
"Can I what?" Harry repeated. His cheeks were flushed, and the look in his eyes promised a harsh throat fucking if you complied, so you did.
"Can you handle keeping your voice down too? From what I understand it doesn't seem like you can."
Harry chuckled like he was impressed, which pleased you in a way that it shouldn't have. You wanted to impress him all of a sudden. You wanted to please him.
"I guess we'll see. Get up on the bed."
You hesitated. As much as you wanted him inside you, you wanted him in your mouth more. You weren't finished yet. Or rather, Harry wasn't finished yet.
"What is it?" he asked.
You took him into your mouth again, losing yourself in the weight and feel of him on your tongue despite yourself. It was infuriating how much Harry turned you on despite how annoying he was. Mixed with your penchant for getting off and getting others off, you were a goner.
Harry's moans and the grip on your hair only fueled you. Your panties were nothing but a wet scrap of fabric at this point but you didn't care.
Before you could take him down the back of your throat, Harry pulled you off him again. In the fog of lust, you leaned for him involuntarily but he held you back.
Harry chuckled, his usual smirk not so irritating as it normally was. "A slut and a brat. I didn't know I was getting two for the price of one, but we'll work on that don't worry."
A flash of irritation came to the surface. "You're so—"
"Ah ah ah, let's get back to what you do best, yeah? If you wanna suck cock all day, by all means," Harry said, his voice so condescending you almost didn't want to, but your lust eventually won out.
You couldn't help it. You really did want him in your mouth.
"Fuck, there we go. I knew you couldn't resist for long."
"Shut up, you're ruining this for me."
"Sorry, princess, I'll let you focus. You can tap my thigh if it's too much. I have a feeling you might get carried away. Just had no idea you were such a slut for my cock."
You pinched Harry's leg instead as you worked your mouth further down his length. Hissing, he gripped your hair tight, a small warning to behave.
"What would all our friends say if they knew, huh? Everyone thinks you hate me, but in reality you can't go a whole week without my cock in you. That must really piss you off."
You breathed harshly through your nose, but Harry didn't miss that subtle squeeze of your thighs, proving him right. You could pretend all you wanted, he didn't seem to care one way or another. It probably satisfied him to no end to know that he got under your skin, that the focused, levelheaded good girl you appeared to be was a mere facade.
"You can't stand it, can you? And yet you're probably so fuckin' wet when I talk like this, huh? Dirty girl. My dirty girl. You look like a fucked out mess and you don't even care. I bet you even like it."
Harry pulled you off his cock, a small whimper leaving your swollen, drool covered lips. You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, too far gone to act like this wasn't exactly where you wanted to be.
"You look so cute," Harry cooed, gently wiping spit or precum from the corner of Y/n's mouth. That seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she swatted his hand away, reaching out for his length to finish him off. "Ah ah ah. I think I need to hear it first."
"Hear what?"
"How much you want this. How much you want me."
Y/n narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she sat back on her heels, not saying a single word.
"You can sit there and bruise your knees, princess," Harry said, running a hand over his dick, smiling slightly as he watched her eyes track the movement. "Maybe I'll just come on your face and leave without getting you off. But something tells me you might like that."
Your pussy throbbed at the thought, the little traitor, though you were starting to feel like giving in was easier than resisting, no matter how much Harry might tease you for it after.
"I get off on pleasuring other people, sue me," you snapped, pointedly looking away from Harry and his ministrations.
"True," Harry agreed. "But that's not the whole truth. Come on, Y/n. You know I'll reward you for being a good girl, but if you take too long..."
Swiping his thumb over his tip, Harry leaned his head back and moaned. The veins in his neck bulged as the muscles in his stomach contracted. His whole body was flushed pink. He really was gonna come.
"Fine! Fine," you huffed barely looking in his eyes. "I—I want you."
"You can do better than that," Harry teased, still pumping his shaft lightly. "Touch yourself while you convince me. I want to see what that little pussy will tell me if you can't say it with your words."
Whimpering, you dipped your fingers beneath your panties, gasping as they grazed your clit as they made their way down to your slit. You were soaked, which wasn't news to you, but the sound of two fingers pumping in and out of you with ease told Harry enough.
"Please," you whimpered. "I want to finish you off. I want you, Harry. Please let me suck your cock."
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Harry said, grinning almost evilly. "Keep playing with yourself too. But don't fucking come. I told you where I wanted you to squirt and it won't be on the fucking floor."
You moaned as you finally took him into your mouth again. He was close, his hips bucking into you frenetically. You focused on the tip, swirling your tongue over it while your hands took care of the rest. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You lost yourself in the feel of him on your tongue, in the twinge of pain in your scalp as he kept a tight grip on your hair. You added a third finger to your throbbing pussy, moaning around Harry until it became too much.
"Come. Please come, Harry," you begged. "I'm so close and I—I can feel it."
Then, pulling your hand from your heat, you sucked at his tip, using the slickness of your hand to pump the rest of him before sliding back down his length. You could taste yourself on him, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. Part of you wanted to know what Harry would do if you did come, if you disobeyed, but you figured there would be an opportunity for that. Right now, you wanted him, and you wanted to ride his face as reward for your hard work.
"God you're a fucking dream," Harry moaned, thrusting into your mouth after your little display.
He spilled into your mouth then, his cock twitching as you eagerly swallowed spurt after spurt of his cum. Harry cursed and moaned through it all, gently running a hand through your hair. You didn't want to let up, still in a trance as you tried to milk every possible bit out of him as possible.
"A slut in a good girl's clothes. Who knew," he said, chest rising rapidly as if he just did sprints on the ice.
Raising your brow, you licked your hand clean, keeping eye contact with him until he eventually brought you to your feet. Your legs were wobbly, but Harry steadied you. He kissed you hard, tongue thrusting into your mouth as if he was chasing the taste of your heat on your tongue. "If you wanted to get rid of me, you failed miserably, princess," he murmured onto your lips before hoisting you on your bed. You practically vibrated with anticipation, your pussy aching for his attention. It wouldn't take much to come since you were so close, but you figured your legs would be locked around Harry's head until he was ready to fuck you properly.
When Harry was situated on your bed the way he liked, he motioned for you to come closer. You crawled up the bed, stopping right before his face. His expression was eager as he helped you out of your shirt, his hands kneading your breasts appreciatively and tweaking your nipples until you moaned, moving your hips involuntarily.
"Don't or I swear to God I'm gonna come," you hissed, trying to hold your impending orgasm at bay.
"Hm. Another time then," Harry said. "Don't be gentle, okay? Make a mess out of me. Now move those panties to the side so I can get a good look at you.
It was the last intelligible thing either of you said for a while, you too lost in your own pleasure and Harry smothered in you, his hands guiding your hips and gripping your ass appreciatively. He moaned almost as much as you did, his tongue working over your slit, up to your clit, and down again over and over. You can rather quickly because of everything that happened before, your legs trembling as you tried to move off him. But he held you down, seating you on him once more.
"No."
"Harry, I—"
"No. You're not done coming yet. I need at least two more," he said before sticking two fingers into your hole and latching his lips around your clit.
He pumped at a bruising pace, sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue, driving tears to your eyes from the overstimulation. It was almost painful, but your hips bucked in time with Harry's fingers. And even though you'd never done it before in such quick succession, you could feel a second orgasm barreling through you. The pressure built and built, and all it took was the graze of Harry's teeth against your clit to send you over.
The pleasure was so intense you were pretty sure you blacked out. Harry's fingers didn't let up, curling into you and making you climax for the third time before you even finished your second.
You don't know if you screamed, you don't know if you stopped making sound altogether. All you knew was pure euphoria and the slide of Harry's tongue on your trembling thighs as he lapped up the messy aftermath of your two consecutive releases. His nose graze your clit, and you twitched, twitched, moaning or sobbing or begging, you couldn't tell.
"Okay, princess, time to lay down," Harry said.
You felt lighter than air as he laid you flat on your back. You were pretty sure you had pillows, but you couldn't recall how to ask. All you knew was the man beside you who knew how to make you c so hard you saw stars.
The same man kissed you before sliding off the bed and you reached for him, something you would never normally do. "Where—You—You're not staying with me?"
Harry's features softened as he kissed you again, this time on your cheek. "Gotta get you cleaned up. Gotta clean myself up for that matter. I'll be quick, I promise."
"Okay."
Harry was quick, just as he promised. A warm towel between your legs, your bed dipping, Harry's body wrapped around yours, the smell of his body wash comforting as it engulfed you—it all made your eyes heavy.
"Where are my pillows?" you finally asked, realizing you were using his arm as one instead.
"They, uh, took the brunt of your special talent, along with my face," he said, only slightly teasing.
"Sorry," you said, cheeks pinking.
"You'll never hear me complaining about that," Harry said, kissing your neck. "Might have to have that regularly. You've made an addict out of me."
You had enough energy to pinch the arm wrapped around you. "Pig."
"Go to sleep, princess. You're not you when you're high on orgasms, and I miss our verbal spats."
You didn't need to be told twice and fell asleep almost instantly. When you woke up, Harry and any and all traces of him were gone. Your pillows were back on the bed without their pillowcases. One glance at your hamper told you where Harry put them before he left.
Part of you didn't like that he left while you were asleep, but as the fog of sleep wore off and you fitted a shirt over your head, you told yourself it was for the best. Especially when a couple minutes later your roommate walked in.
"Hey, Y/n," she said as she set her backpack by her desk.
"Hey," you replied, stretching your arms high above your head before covering a yawn.
"I don't think I've ever seen you so tired in the middle of the day. Tough workout at the rink this morning?"
You couldn't help but grin, your afternoon with Harry replaying in your head. Despite the earth-shattering orgasms only a couple hours ago, you felt your core pulse at the memory.
"Yeah. Something like that."
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vagabond-umlaut · 9 days
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summer collapsed into fall
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summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^
satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.
it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?
but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.
he decides to feign confusion.
"what?"
"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."
but is it fine if he has none?
throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.
and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."
"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.
"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"
not really... no.
while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---
but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.
not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"
"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"
rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---
although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.
he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.
but no, he doesn't.
satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:
if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.
it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.
many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...
he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?
just who are you seeing in him?
"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---
satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:
he now has one favourite colour.
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roturo · 1 year
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LIKE CRAZY - dick grayson x f!reader
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① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: bestfriends into lovers.
→ summary: Being friends with a beautiful and smart guy like Dick had you like crazy. Plenty of girls would be asking for his number, or a date with him. But all of them got rejected by him, why? well, because he only had eyes for you.
→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of nicknames (sweetheart, princess, baby, good girl, etc), teasing, jealous!dick, insecure reader, possessive behavior, reader is mentioned as part of the og titans, kinda of stalker/pervert behavior, size kink.
TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.
Being friends with Dick Grayson wasn't easy. You spent many nights of your life waiting for him to come back from patrol and heal any wound he came back with. As much you tried to stay away from any of the heroes things since the originals Titans dissolved, somehow he always found a way to make you follow him in every new adventure he found. Even if this meant to never becoming a normal person with a normal job, normal clothes, or normal dates.
Dick wouldn't describe himself as a pervert. Yeah, he has his... problems. But a pervert? Haha, no. Watching you from a distance through your windows from your apartment isn't being a pervert... a stalker? well...
He wouldn't lie he felt his bottom part of his suit getting tighter every time he saw you by accident, ACCIDENT, changing clothes, or going out after a shower in just some tiny panties looking for some shirt he left in your house to wear with no bra.
But this night? Oh this night was different. You were getting extra ready. Were you going to text him to go out? Come to your place?
And don't get him wrong, he's not in love with you. Possessive? Well, maybe. Someone had to keep an eye on you.
He's been quite busy getting the Titans together again in some way, taking care of Rachel, dealing whatever is going on with Kory, and well, Deathstroke.
And maybe he's a little upset and maybe mad at the fact you wouldn't come back to help him with Deathstroke, but he has the other Titans right? This was only part of one of his problems.
But you weren't as selfish as him, you get worried about your friends, and usually ask them how's everything going. And that also included a very descriptive situationship of Dick and Kory for your taste.
So he's finding someone new, that's okay! You can't deny every since you met Dick, you had a tiny whiny little crush on him. How couldn't you? You both have been friends since you were little kids, you were always together, had helped the other in the toughest situations...
So, what a other better way to move on than meeting someone new? This new guy was kind, funny, nice looking, maybe not as handsome as Dick, but passable, he might not be as intelligent as Dick, or as protective and fit as him, but knowing that your crush might get with someone prettier, stronger, than you, had you like crazy.
You can hear the voices in your head trying to get the pressure off you as quickly as possible in some bad ways, but you couldn't let yourself do something bad or that would affect Dick in some way.
New guy invited you to some new club in the city, you were getting ready to get lost in the lights and drunk in the dance, you got this new Cetacean blue tiny dress, which you called ¨nightwing blue¨ since it reminded you of him. Last touches of makeup and you were ready to go out. And just in time, your date knocked on the door.
When Dick saw you getting out of your room a little too excited for his liking, he got.. worried? jealous?... you were probably going out with some friends.
¨Oh¨ Were the words that left his mouth when he saw you opening the door and smiling to new guy. When did you met new guy? You never told him about him. Quickly he got his phone out and took a picture of new guy for some... future research. Right now he had another problem to deal with.
¨Sorry, wait for me a minute i'm going for my phone¨ You told him while going back to your room, but when you came back, you never expected seeing Dick coming out of your bathroom in some pajamas he probably left one day in your apartment, with a short glance before he closed the door you could see his suit somewhere in the floor of your bathroom.
¨Babe? Is this your new friend you talked me about? The gay one?¨ Were the first words he left while going close to the door and looking at your date, with a devil grin in his face he got behind you wrapping his arms in your waist in a possessive way. To say you were shocked was little, same to your now ex-date.
¨I'm sorry new friend, but me and my girlfriend have some things to talk and figure out. Maybe next time you can go out with her. If there´s a next time.¨ The last words were barely loud enough for you to hear when he closed the door extending his arm while not letting you go in a no so calm way.
What. The. Fuck.
¨Yeah, I should ask you that too¨ You didn't realized you said it out loud. ¨What are you doing here Dick?¨ Was your first of many questions, but to say the big bump you started feeling at the back of your low back wasn't making you giddy, had you wondering if all this was a dream.
¨Claiming what's mine.¨ He answered to your question, turning you around, looking at your small figure and doe eyes full of pure confusion had his pants getting tighter around his cock. ¨When you were telling me you had this new friend princess?¨ He said, moving his hand to your face, tilting your chin to a side with one of his fingers. ¨He's not a friend.¨ You told him, assuring him he's no longer a friend, knowing how Dick is, you recognized the darkness in his eyes, but also you think you're getting crazy because you swear you can see a pint of lust in his eyes. But you guess Dick didn't got your clarification as how you meant it, since he pushed you to the wall, caging you with his arms.
¨Oh, so he's not a friend? What is he then?¨ He looked at you, eyes now full of just lust, devouring every inch of your body, waiting for a word that would let him in and make you his. ¨He's nothing now.¨ you told him, locking eyes with him, is like he read your thoughts, both of you wanted it to happen and it did.
¨Good girl.¨ The last words that left his mouth when he started kissing you, it's like both of you were waiting for this moment to happen because the kiss was full of passion. You could feel his smile while kissing you, with a small bite of your lower lip that made you let out a small whine, he started kissing your neck, every time going lower and making sure to leave a bruise that will turn purple by tomorrow. ¨You don't know how much I missed you princess¨
His words made your legs weaker, and a wet feeling became stronger going down your thighs. His hand started going towards that place were you needed friction, and when you felt his fingers playing with your panties a small moan left your mouth. ¨Oh sweetheart... all wet for me. Just for me right?¨ He pinched your clit with his thumb and index finger making you squint and give small nods to him. ¨Words baby, I need words.¨ He started playing with your clit, his mouth not leaving your neck.
¨Dick... Please...¨ You said, putting each hand of yours in his shoulders for support. ¨What do you want princess?¨ His hands moving your underwear to the side, getting his fingers wet thanks to your fluids. ¨I need you Dick¨ You moaned at the movement of his fingers playing with your hole, clenching around nothing.
¨Where do you need me baby?... Here¨ He introduced one finger into your needy hole, making you leave a loud moan. ¨Here?¨ His finger moved towards your clit, playing with it. ¨Or... Here?¨ He introduced his wet finger into your mouth, making you taste yourself at which you gratefully sucked his finger. ¨Everywhere, I need you everywhere.¨
With no more words needed he unlaced his sweatpants, taking his cock out, an angry reddish tip needy for attention was leaking pre-cum, ready to be introduced to your as equal needy cunt.
He turned you around, with no care, he broke your panties in the need of freeing your cunt. Your hands looking for support got into the wall, the cold breeze of air feeling your cunt, got you needier. ¨Can you please just fuck me Dick?¨ You said, moving your hips backwards looking for some friction of any kind. ´´Greedy, aren't we?¨ He chuckled at you being this impatient for him. Never in a thousand times, he though he would have accepted his feelings for you. But almost loosing you to another man, had him like crazy.
So with no time wasted, he inserted himself into you, making you moan at the process, Dick threw all his self-control and started thrusting into you. All you could say was small mumbles of his name and words like ¨more¨ ¨faster¨ ¨harder¨
Like if the feeling of his cock inside of you wasn't enough one of his hands moved all the way down until he found your clit and started playing with it. You were sure the other hand who was supporting you by grabbing you by your hips was going to lease some bruise tomorrow.
¨This pussy is all mine. No one's else, all mine now love.¨The last four words were said each by one hard thrust into you, perfectly touching your g-spot with each one. ¨You´re all mine now sweetheart. I won't let anyone else have you.¨
His words and the sound of skins slapping made you dizzy enough for your vision to start turning blurry, the pleasure becoming too much for you, your climax came like a rollercoaster. But that didn't stopped him, it made him even more desirable of having you all for him. You didn't think his thrusts would become faster or harder but oh boy... the did.
And that didn't stopped you for coming again, clenching his cock with a loud moan when your liquids started going out of you. You squirted all over him and it felt so good. That brought Dick over the edge and made him cum. Giving some last hard thrusts into you to deposit all of him, he just smiled while giving you little pecks in your neck and back.
¨I love you.¨
He hugged you, ¨And i'm sorry this is the way you're finding out, but I couldn't stand seeing you getting ready for another man that isn't me¨ He turned you around, the lost of the feeling of him inside you made you whine.
Inserting his cock again into his pants, and adjusting your dress, he gave you another kiss, this one full of pure and sincere love, his eyes no longer full of lust but now full of passion.
¨So you were stalking me?¨ You said between a giggle, which turned into a small laugh when you saw his face turning into shock and his ears getting red. It's like you didn't know he was watching you almost everynight getting ready for bed, and maybe some nights you gave him a show of your naked body.
¨Uh...No?¨ Was all he could say before you kissed him again and laughed at his shyness of being discovered.
You were sure this guy was the love of your life.
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t-lostinworlds · 2 months
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Warm Winter & Fiery Frost | B.Barnes [Completed]
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》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x ex-HYDRA assassin!female!reader
》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x grumpy, enemies to lovers-ish, slow burn-ish, angst, fluff-ish
》 SUMMARY: They say opposites attract. You and Bucky were so alike—He was called The Winter Soldier and you were called Frost, for fucks sake—that it's probably the reason why you hated each other. Or was it the denying of powerful feelings in fear of getting hurt? You know, like how the cliché goes. Because you know what they also say: There's a fine line between love and hate.
》 WARNINGS: canon typical violence (blood, guns, combat, etc.), canon divergence, meanness against each other (at the start & that one scene™), emotional constipation! (on both sides. they both need therapy lbr), poorly translated russian prolly, soulmate vibes (not really?), r has bucky at knifepoint quite often (& threatens to kill him), bucky's kink unlocked? (not explored lol), down bad!bucky, r has a backstory, mentions of: past traumas, grooming (no specific ages but it's implied that r was very young), manipulation, experimentation, child trafficking, torture, murder (u know hydra tings), a sweet, happy and open ending (+ if i missed anything pls let me know!)
》 TOTAL WORD COUNT: 29k+ (my longest fic yet)
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A/N: i actually started this a year ago??? (according to my doc) which is crazy to me?? bc it feels like i only had this idea for months? where has the time gone. ANYWAYS. first behemoth bucky fic & first fic in a few months so pls be kind ksksks
++ also would like to say that r in this isn't the usual happy-go-lucky, sweet, emotionally capable, sunshine-y person compared to what i typically write but she has her reasons. cold & hardened but mushy on the inside. u know. like our fave supersoldier. they're honestly the same person just different fonts lmao. ANYWAYS,
++ additional note: tumblr has a limit of only 1000 paragraphs (or text block so to speak). the fic itself is 1300 paragraphs so it's waay over the limit. so i decided to cut it into two parts BUT i also posted it on AO3 if you want to read it as a whole already. hope you guys still read and enjoy it! <3
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📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
PART ONE | PART TWO
or READ ON AO3
✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!
✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary​​​​ and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!
© t-lostinworlds, 2024 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.
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nexysworld · 6 months
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Dead Dove, Content Entitlement, and Fandoms
There's been no end of posts clogging up popular fandom tags with arguments and opinions on dark content, dead dove, and related things. While I've seen some decent posts that go over media literacy and dark content, I personally feel like none fully encompass my entire feelings on this nor provide all the points that I feel are important.
I know people have strong feelings on this subject, and I'm not expecting to immediately change anyone's minds. But I hope maybe I can toss some food for thought out there, or provide further context from both a victim of SA as well as a content creator. This has been bothering me for a while now to the point where it has been making me no longer want to write or engage in fandoms on Tumblr, and so I needed to get this out there with my stance. I've also had people in my inbox stating that my dark content is somehow morally better than other writer's dark content. TW: Mentions of dark content including discussions of noncon/dubcon, harassment, SA, etc.
Addressing Common Points
If you write or consume [INSERT CONTENT], you're romanticizing and endorsing it and that makes you a bad person. Or, you're weird/wrong/gross for it. I see this brought up primarily with dubcon/noncon topics. It should go without saying, but fiction is fantasy, it's separate from real life. Adults who consume this type of content understand that these things are NOT ok in real life. But to take it a step further, I want to stress that having noncon fantasies is actually INCREDIBLY common. In studies regarding these fantasies, nearly 50% or more of people who participated admitted to having fantasies that align with these topics the majority of which are women. Not only that but these kinds of fantasies are even more common in people who have been victims of these crimes. This isn't some niche thing only liked by a minority of people. If you don't believe me here's an example of ONE study, but there's plenty of easily accessible information out there. By conflating consuming/writing this content with someone's moral character stigmatizes these feelings further and does more harm than good. And I know what you're thinking though. But why? Why would someone who's gone through something like that fantasize about something so awful? Why is this appealing to anyone, victims or not? Fiction creates a safe space to explore topics. In fiction there are no real victims, no one is actually getting hurt, it's all fake. The characters aren't real and if at any point as the reader you are too uncomfortable to continue, you can stop and exit. You can like the idea of a fictional person tossing you around, while also feeling uncomfortable if a real life man tried to pick you up a the bar or didn't take no for an answer. There's also "normal" things you can fantasize about, but not want to participate in IRL.
Hypocrisy and what is considered dark content? This won't apply to everyone, but I've seen a number of people who claim to be anti-dark content but reblog things that are non consensual, perhaps without realizing it. And this is especially true for those who are younger on here. Please understand that noncon/dubcon does not inherently need to be violent or gory. Any situation in which there's a lack of consent or a power imbalance is inappropriate. Somno fics? If it's not explicitly stated that it was agreed upon prior in the fic, that is still non consensual even if it's written to be "sweet.", even if it's a pre-established relationship. Professor x student fics? There's power imbalance there. There's a reason you cannot have a relationship with your teachers in real life. Hybrid fics? Most people write hybrids as completely sentient people who are treated as sex slaves. They have little choice or are "following instinct." You cannot consent to someone who literally OWNS you after adopting you. You get the gist. There's far more to consent than physically manhandling someone. Yet because these things are written in a way that contextualizes them as being "sweet" and "normal", they aren't considered dark content by many people. If you're ok with the above, you have to understand that these ARE forms of dubcon/noncon. I would even argue that these are more romanticizing of these topics than stuff that's far more explicit in nature. If you would be pissed if your IRL partner tried to feel you up in your sleep, but enjoy somno fics, or enjoy the Taboo of Professor Leon, but wouldn't fuck your actual college professor - then that is the EXACT way in which people who enjoy even "darker" content can enjoy the fiction whilst not partaking in real life.
It sets a bad example for younger people on the website/"protect the children." Children shouldn't be looking at smut in general, dark content, vanilla content, etc. I don't know what else to tell you. It is NOT the job of content creators to try and police what teenagers do on the internet, that's between them and their parents. The majority of creators who make 18+ content explicitly state MDNI and block those younger than 18 if we discover them trying to interact with us. That is the most that we can and should be expected to do.
[INSERT CHARACTER] would NEVER act like that, it irritates me when people write them as OOC. Fanfiction is by definition NON canon. The only people who truly know how a character is supposed to act are the people who created those characters. But I want to add on to this, there are plenty of times in which a character acts entirely OOC even in fluffy or vanilla fanfiction. Every writer is going to have a different interpretation of how a character acts or thinks - and yet it's only really complained about when it's dark content. These characters are not real. Leon cannot be upset or hurt by people writing dark content about him, because he doesn't exist. Part of the fun of fanfiction, at least in my opinion as well, is justifying certain things within the context. Many dark content writers will and do explain why the character became how they are or why they think that way using canon as context - not that I think it's required because fanfiction can be whatever you want it to. The point is, dark content or not, not everyone will be on the same wavelength as you about your favorite character.
Even if you're a victim of SA or other crimes, you should get professional help, not read dark content. This is a very bad take in my opinion. Mental health care can be incredibly hard to get. Reading fanfiction is free, it's harmless. But genuinely, imagine you're a victim of a heinous crime, and you're already struggling with feelings regarding it - to then be mobbed by people online telling you that you're weird and wrong for having the feelings that you do? This is also in league with my first point, but having these feelings are actually VERY normal. This is a healthy way to process the emotions in a safe environment where no real person gets hurt, where you can leave whenever you want. Stigmatizing these things does hurt real people though.
You're hurting other people who're victims of these things. Look, if a fic is not properly TW then I fully understand. Every victim will have a different experience, and while some may be ok with dark content, others won't. So if you open a fic expecting it to be one thing and it's another, that's shitty. But tags are there for a reason. If you see something marked Noncon, and that's triggering for you, no one is expecting you to read it. And here's the thing with tags/tw's as well, everyone's trauma is different. Something that one person might not consider dark content, or is generally considered innocuous might trigger someone else. If you are one of those people who think even seeing the trigger warning could be harmful to people, then that's a prime example of WHY you must curate your own experience online. Block certain words, tags, and phrases to make sure you don't see them. But that's on YOU to do, not people who create content. Their only responsibility is to warn you about the contents of the content they've made, their responsibility stops beyond that point. You know what DOES affect real people besides the stigmatization of their feelings or kinks? Harassing them. Leaving hate comments, telling people to unalive themselves. These affect the mental health of the real people behind the content that you don't like. I've seen death and rape threats SENT to dark content writers.
Dark content in other forms of media. It's interesting to me that the majority of discussion around dark content comes from people criticizing fanfiction specifically. Take horror movies for example. The Saw Franchise, we'll say. Do you think the creators of that series want to enact those horrible things onto other people? Do you think they want to be the victims of Jigsaw themselves? What about people who watch content like that? You probably don't think that they do. There's TONS of movies, music videos, even horror novels that have incredibly, and I mean INCREDIBLY dark dead dove content - and yet most people understand that the appeal is in the taboo. That it's fiction. That people who consume THOSE forms of media don't want to participate in those things but do enjoy consuming that content. But when it's fanfiction it somehow becomes a problem.
Entitlement and demand of fandom content. In addition to all of the above, there is a major uptick in people complaining about the content within fandoms some not even relating to dark content. "There's too many stories where reader acts like X." "I hate how so many people characterize this person because that's now how they would act!" "Why is there so much smut? Why can't there be more of {insert what I want}". This is FREE content made by people who do this stuff as a hobby. No one owes you content, and no one HAS to write the way you want them too. If there's tons of content like that, then it's because it's popular. Perhaps your version of a character is in the minority opinion, and that's completely ok!
What's the solution to all of this discourse?
Be the change you want to see! If you feel like there's too many x reader fics where the reader doesn't act how you want - then write it the way you want. Do you have head canons about a series or character that you haven't seen discussed before? Make that post yourself! If you don't feel there's enough fluff in the fandom - then create some! And if you don't want to make content yourself - request it, commission it. Interact with your favorite writers! Encourage them, don't demand. Talk with them about their work, leave comments, and reblog, reblog, reblog!! Being a part of the discussion and interaction is the BEST way to help the community thrive. Surround yourself with the content that YOU want, curate YOUR experience. Block every dark content writer you see if it helps. Go into your Tumblr settings, block words, block tags. Don't set yourself up to be upset or bothered by the content you're getting. Even if you read the above and you still think every dark content writer is a horrendous, awful person - the best thing to do is still block them. Block their content. Harassing them and complaining on it will NOT stop that content from existing. But you will continue to upset yourself by not curating your own experience.
~~~~~~~~
If you made it through all that, thank you for reading. I want to add that my blog WILL continue in the future to have a mix of both dead dove and regular content. I also interact with other dark content blogs, so if you're someone who followed me because of my "regular" fics and want to unfollow/block me, I'm ok with that. <3
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laughter like honey dribbles ◦ l.f
-an inexperienced Felix tries to impress you by forcing his voice deeper. What do you do when it cracks mid-through?
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Paring◦ Lee Felix x Fem!Reader
Words◦ 1123
Genre ◦ The fluffiest smut you'll ever read, awkward sexual situations, realistic sex where life isn't all butterflies, orgasms, and rainbows.
Warnings ◦ Reader is described as having a vagina, laughter during sex, Felix being a big baby, embarrassment (what's new), ruined orgasm ig? Ngl i feel like half of this is just a bunch of me yapping and terrible punctuation (if you find any errors PLEASE let me know, thank you).
A/N ◦ This was the very first thing I've ever posted on my tumblr literally ever and so I'm going to be reuploading all of my stuff back onto this account 😃 so why not start off here
~CookieCreates🍪
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You can feel him all around you, chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart. Your bodies melded together flawlessly, as though you were molded to fit into each other's arms, and, well, each others…
He pumps in and out of you ruthlessly, perfectly tipping you closer and closer to the edge.
“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his rutting hips, wanting him closer, harder, deeper,
Fuck.
“What do you want, baby?” He slams his hips harder into yours, prodding all the perfect places. You choke, a rush of pleasure vibrating through your bones. “Use your words.” He pants, nibbling on the soft skin of your neck, his voice deep and low, the seductive sultry tilt sends shivers up your spine and tingles to your core. 
“Say something, anything, your voice drives me crazy,” you whine, throwing your head back in bliss. A shrill moan rips from the back of your throat as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching, electric hands reaching out to you. You brush the tips of its fingers; trailing rings of fire seem to be tickling your skin, raging beneath your bones. 
So close.
So close.
So close.
You reach, all you need is,
“Good girl.” Felix doesn't know why he did it, forced his voice lower, deeper. At the time when ecstasy was rushing through his veins, it didn't seem like such a bad idea, until he went so deep it cracked.
He wants nothing more than for the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.
He stops.
You stop.
The world stops for a moment, and all you can see are his big, brown eyes blown wide with shock. The room is completely silent; the only thing being heard is the rough pounding of your hearts and the hard blinking of your eyes which seems like all you guys are able to do. You stay like that forever. Watching. Waiting. For one of you to take one for the team and cut through the growing tension in the room. You curl your lips into your teeth, breaking the awkward stand-off on whose either going to laugh their ass off or pretend that nothing happened and continue to fuck, but with your orgasm long forgotten and the previous raging heat of the room now dwindling to nothing more than a few flickering embers, the laughter that bubbles up in your throat is beginning to be too hard to contain.
Heat floods his cheeks as he blinks, still in this weird form of fight or flight mode. His muscles tense beneath your traveling fingertips, overcome with the humiliation that burns through his chest, and figuring no matter how much he's praying for the earth to swallow him up, Mother Nature is not coming to save him, so he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, hiding from your amused stare instead. 
“Baby,” you chuckle softly, sympathetically, the sound reminding him somewhat of delicate strings of honey that float through the air. Even with the regret coursing through his veins, the sound sticks to parts of his brain that only you are allowed to occupy, so basically, all of it.
He could sum up his life with you in one simple sentence: cotton candy kisses and laughter like honey dribbles. He groans, digging his face deeper into the soft skin of your neck, the same neck that's littered with the love bites he bestowed not even moments earlier.
Oh, how the world changes. 
You can't help the spree of giggles that spill from your mouth.
“Can you come out now, please?”
"No, I'm good. I think I'm going to live here, die here, eat here, sleep here. You might as well get comfortable, baby, cause I'm staying here for the rest of my life!” He says erratically, digging his face deeper into your skin.
“My dramatic baby,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, still damp with sweat. Time seems to trickle by as soft bouts of breathing fill the air. The heat of his cheeks burns into your neck as you attempt to coddle him out of the embarrassed home he's made in your body.
"S'embarrassing,” he mumbles, voice muddled by the depth in which he has burrowed into your flesh.
“What was that, baby? I couldn't hear you from the home you've made in my neck.” You tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. He lifts his head, shooting you an equally playful but unamused glare. You have to push back the laughter that threatens to leave your lips as you take in his red cheeks and shy eyes. He looks so adorable and yet so sexy at the same time. You don't know if you want to jump his bones or bake him a batch of cookies. The best part is that you know you're going to be able to do both. You lift your eyebrows, sending him a look that states, "You have to admit that really was funny," which he reciprocates with a bashful smile, not quite meeting your eyes, giving you a look back that states, "I know it was funny, but right now I'm too embarrassed to say that currently."
That's what you loved about your relationship with Felix—you didn't always have to communicate with words. Your hearts did the talking for you.
“Come on,” you giggle, “you have to admit it was kind of funny.” He rolls his eyes, a wide smile creeping onto his face. "Yeah, I guess it was kind of funny.” 
You snicker, “Thank God, cause the laughter wasn't going to hold itself in for very long.” 
"Ugg, I hate you.” His words were as soft as silk, holding not even a centimeter of malice. He buries himself back into the permanent place he's made his home. 
“But I love you.” You whisper, your lips grazing the crown of his head, soft hairs tickling your chin.
You loved Felix, and he loved you, and even though the mood was ruined and hope for an orgasm was gone, you wouldn't trade it for the world. How could you when he was exactly that. Your world. 
“Okay, as much as I hate to say this, you can't live inside of me forever; my pH levels have to be screaming right now.”
When you were a girl and the coughs started coming, your mother used to give you honey in a spoon and a tickle to the stomach, telling you that laughter was the best medicine, but mixed with the slick amber liquid, your laughter would always sound like honey dribbles, the perfect cure, but with Felix, you never had to worry about being sick because laughter was all the two of you ever spoke.
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©CookieCreates (posted: June, 2nd 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.
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little-tainted-angel · 9 months
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๑ A secret between interlinked fingers.
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Tim Drake x male!reader
Category: [Fluff/sfw/comical(?)]
Warnings: 5/5 bat-bros (Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke and Damian), male reader. Mention of Cassandra. 4/5 bat-bros don't believe Tim could go to therapy at all (I doubt any of them would). Reader uses Spanish pet names. May be too OOC.
Request: Yes / No | From: Anon.
«Hey! Could you please write Tim Drake x reader? Basically Tim is secretly dating a guy and they nostly hang out at school, his brother's get a bit too curious and listen in <3»
Note: My first request! Glad to have you here <3 I apologize if this isn't linked to your ask, Tumblr for some reason wouldn't let me edit it. I only had the options "delete" "program publication" and "post". Also, sorry this is short and if I got the characters personality wrong, I don't really know how to write Tim.
Resume: Tim and reader are dating, but they mostly just spend time in their school. His brothers got curious, and since all of them were raised by the world's best detective, is up to them to resolve the mystery that is Tim's relationship.
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"I swear there's something strange in the kid's behavior," Jason muttered as he sat down on the couch, next to Damian while Duke was sitting on the other extreme. Dick was standing in front of them.
The four brothers (Cass also noticed, but Cass being Cass had already found out what it was), noticed that the brother —that was currently disappeared from the manor— had slight changes in his behavior.
It was sort of positive, they noticed. But they didn't know what caused it (therapy was discarded as an option by group agreement).
"Maybe he's self-improving for once?" Duke suggested, though he didn't sound convinced himself.
"TT. Doubt that Drake of all people could self-improve his pathetic self," Damian rolled his eyes.
"Damian, be nice," Dick sighed, looking at one of his baby brothers.
"Well, there must be a reason of why this small change." Jason crossed his arms.
"...And if we follow him to find out the reason?" Duke suggested.
"Wouldn't he notice?" Dick raised an eyebrow.
"It won't hurt giving it a try," he shrugged.
"I say we do it. What can end up wrong?" Jason pointed out.
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"All of this is ridiculous," Damian murmured.
"You agreed to it Habibi," Jason hummed, making Damian click his tongue.
The brothers managed to follow Tim to his school. That was the moment they noticed a male getting closer to Tim with a smile.
You were a new addition, they quickly realized. As they had never seen you before with Tim. And Tim seemed at ease with you.
"A boy?" Dick said amused. "That's the cause for Tim's subtle change?"
Don't get him wrong, his baby brother can date whoever he wants. He was just surprised Tim changed because of someone else.
"Who is dumb enough to be interested in him?" Damian replied, clearly not believing what he was seeing.
"That guy we just saw, apparently," Duke hummed.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩ
"Everything okay, Amor?" You asked Tim, as he seemed to be slightly on edge.
"Yeah...I just feel like someone's watching me." Tim replied, sighing as he left his head rest on your shoulder. He was tired, you could tell.
You hummed softly as one hand came to brush his hair out of his face.
"When did you last slept?" You asked him, quietly enough for no one else to hear you.
Tim grumbled quietly, avoiding the question.
"Cariño, when did you last slept?" You asked again with a small sigh.
"...48 hours ago?"
"Tim."
"You asked."
"Do I have to drug you for you to sleep properly?" You murmured, gently massaging his scalp.
"Mmm....maybe," Tim replied back, closing his eyes as he left you touch his hair.
"What am I supposed to do with you, Amor?"
"Love me," Tim replied.
"I already do that, it's easy," you said amused.
Tim grumbled some sort of answer that you couldn't process.
"Yeah, you're definitely sleep deprived, Amor."
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© Made by little-tainted-angel 2023
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knightyoomyoui · 9 months
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[SMUT] TWICE Mina x Male Reader - "House Of Balloons"
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Requested by my buddy and fellow author @mintchoccy, I'm really sorry again if I haven't been able to write it for months, man. I had to focus on other works. Hope this would be fine enough to be worth the wait. TRIGGER WARNING: Aside from mature content, this contains drugs, violence, non-con ( I really didn't want to write with this theme but since it's my second attempt of writing a yandere Mina fic and for the sake of the plot, I had to give what the previous is lacking) and other uncomfortable parts. WORD COUNT: 5700+ TAGS: yandere, obssession, aphrodisiacs, viagra, rough sex, edging, dominant, worship, non-con element, torture, angst, smut Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too!  Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page.
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"That fucking snake again."
Mina has had enough.
She calmly watches such an atrocity of a view, her hands fumbling vigorously within the curves of the wineglass, her fingernails scraping in time with the pattern of her gritting teeth covered through her tight-lipped lips.
The one that she likes- no, she loves - a lot legitimately is talking to somebody. It's their friend but in her perspective, she felt like she could just erase her existence and remove any identification of her being into her whole life.
That one and only man she's head over heels for quite a long time now is YN, unbeknowst to him that girl she's with, named Sana turns out to be one of his secret admirers in disguise.
And what's even worse, Sana doesn't even know that there's one more person who is impatient to fall in line just to snatch YN's heart from everybody else who wanted it, and that is none other than Mina herself.
She tried to hold it in for months, but with how many times she encountered that almost sucked the soul out of her with the tiny possibility remaining to complete for others to win over YN, she has now on her breaking point.
Every day and night passes, her craving, her longing, her desperation is going stronger and higher, and Mina felt like she'll gone out of her mind if she wouldn't do anything about it.
Just like today, it seems like Sana is going for the final blow to attract YN and possibly the worst case scenario might happen, and that is the confession part where Mina doesn't want to witness or hear it to happen.
She doesn't fall in the line, she made the line and she's the most deserving out of them all.
That why it came to this moment that Mina finally pronounces something that will guarantee her victory, a fight where she doesn't have to lose.
She doesn't give a damn if they want YN's love, she's the one who needs it the most.
"I'm going to make you mine, YN. Not even that flirty bitch or anyone could take you from me. We'll go blood for blood just for them to dare." Mina snarled with annoyance and a poisonous glare at the two. "We're going to be together, because we have to and I love you."
Mina first met YN when he brought his childhood bestfriend Sana to their group after Sana found out that her car isn't working properly. He got introduced to the group and with his kind-hearted and humorous personality, he managed to build a strong closeness with the girls.
Until that closeness turns into attraction for one of them aside from Sana.
YN was closest to the J-Line because he is Japanese, and even though he knows Sana a lot, he tried to spend time with Mina and Momo, and Mina was the one he focused more onto.
To be honest, Momo's personality was already fine but there's something that YN observed on Mina that made him check up on her all the time. She is mostly quiet, soft, and meek because of her introvert and elegant attribute, and YN always make sure that whenever he's hanging along with the girls, he wanted to feel that Mina always belongs to them to have fun.
Until suddenly, that fun had Mina searching for all the time, and she became selective only for him.
Mina's fond over YN grew from time to time. There has been instances where she would just start to look for YN, mention him, miss him, hear him. Just everything to feel his presence.
And that, turned Mina's obsession over YN inside out.
Her infatuation bloomed into an excessive devotion fueled by interest where she felt like not having any trace or signs of YN on her would have her less enthusiastic and stable.
The first time she did something very strange was back when Mina sat on YN's chair and muzzled her face around the cushion to inhale every scent he left there.
It leveled up to her stalking him wherever he go, memorizing the directions and time he appears and departs. She also tried to snatch and collect straws and cups that he used, wiping it around his lips then compressing it like as if she's engaging a make out with him.
Until it developed into something that easily malfunctions and thrives her horniness and perverted minds. She had many prints of her pictures with him and to aid her thirst for YN, she even bought a dildo for the first time and imagine it as his dick impaling her pussy by riding it while staring at YN's printed face on the pillow.
And now that she always gets to caught numerous almost close calls of Sana and other girls trying to take her away from her, it prompted her to finally step away from the shadows and make her move that will not require any further attempts.
YN is hers and hers only. As Sana went to the bathroom for a break, Mina came up to YN who is watching their other friends dancing to the floor while sipping on his wine.
"How's the night so far?" Mina talked to him and laid her hands on his shoulder.
"Doing good, but I starting to feel sleepy." YN chuckled. "I mean, I did everything I wanted now here, and now I don't know what else to do than empty these drinks and foods I have."
"Shall we get out of here and you know..." Mina started to move her hand, caressing his shoulder while it slowly lowers through his left pec. "Find something entertaining, make ourselves have some fun~"
She slightly presses her body, her breasts almost pushes through his arm. Her voice starts to become rougher and closer to his ears, making YN blush and feel a bit tensed up.
"I feel a bit bored now. My phone is now out, I hate that I forgot my powerbank."
"You wanted to play games, huh."
"Yeah, and I would really love to do it only with you, if you don't mind~", Mina smirked and squeezed her embrace on his side.
"You're lucky, I can feel my inner gamer loading up-"
"Hey guys!" Sana interrupted their conversation after returning from the bathroom. Mina cursed under her breath and her grip tightened on YN. "Sorry I had to take a break, YN."
"No it's fine, I had to say goodbye to everyone now anyway." YN chuckled. "I'm now tired and done for the night."
"Awwww already?" Sana pouted. "You can join us for one more-"
"Uhm, I think I'll be off now too, Sana." Mina cuts her out. She doesn't want his man to get anything involved with them until they get drunk. Their time is up and her turn is now. "I have low alcohol tolerance and I still have to visit my dad on the hospital tomorrow. Gotta sleep early."
"Not you too, Mina?!" Sana whined. Mina found it adorable but deep inside she's smirking mockingly at her for not being able to get through their zone anymore. "Okay, if that so then let's just catch up at the next party." Sana shrugged. "Be safe on your way home okay?
Mina just nodded and elicited a fake smile while YN smiled. He got surprised when Sana quickly hugged him tight and Mina sweared that she's doing her best at all to control herself from grabbing her arm and slamming her through the table.
"Say our goodbyes to the girls, okay?" YN said to Sana who gave her a cheeky smile while raising her thumbs up.
"Cmon, let's go." Mina swiftly tugs his hands and wrapped it around with hers. She hoped he wouldn't noticed her arms twitching at how good it feels to touch his soft skin.
As they exit the building, she halted and proposed an invitation to him. "Wanna go play with me at my place? I have a newly bought God of War: Ragnarok that I haven't been able to try yet."
"Wait what?! You already got it?!" YN reacted in awe. She knew he'll go hysterical since that is his favorite video game of all time. "No way, we better do it right now. Let's go!"
Mina escorted YN to enter her car and they drove straight to her mansion. They greeted the guard before he opened the gates for them. As Mina parked the car on her garage, they entered the mansion and YN was astounded at how great and rich Mina's family are.
"This is your first time here, right?"
"Yeah, and wow it does feels awesome and honored to be here." YN said as he travelled his eyes around here. "It's like stepping in here should be a priviledge because you'll never get an easy chance to experience this."
"Don't worry, you can stay here as much as you like. Treat this as your home now." Mina said as she walked through the kitchen before eyeing a sinister smirk on him who is still busy checking out the decorations around the place, too oblivious to notice the double meaning on her words.
She walked out of the kitchen with a bottle of alcohol and some cups with her. "Just thought of something to make this even more fun. Shall we do a drunk gameplay?"
"But you said you have to visit-"
"I lied." Mina said sternly. "I did that to make myself more convincing, so don't worry about me because I want us to spend more time together. I want to stay with you alone for now so don't go, please?"
YN nodded and smiled. "Sure. If that's what you want Mina, I'll be joining you."
Mina giggled and felt overwhelmed at his words. "Cmon, let's head upstairs."
They climbed and reached the second floor where Mina's guest room at. YN opened to room in assistance since Mina has her hands full with bottle and glass and they entered at Mina's private space.
Mina slightly got anxious when they passed her bedroom because little does YN know what would greet him once he saw what's in store there.
"I'll be right back, I'm going to get it." Mina said as she dashed through her forbidden area and hurriedly grabbed the cd and controllers.
As she heads back to the room, she found YN conversing through the phone. The call was in speaker and she heard Sana's voice that made her a bit fumed up.
"Yeah, I already got home. Thank you for asking, Sana." He said before bouncing his eyebrows on Mina who remained silent and just walked behind at him.
"Ohwww okayyy, gowd nightt okayyy, sleep and dream ahbout mewh, i- i lhove youuu!" Sana said with a husky, blabberish tone behind the call. YN was shocked to hear the last words she said to him while Mina... well she didn't took it that well at all.
She was about to pop off the cap on the bottle she heard Sana's "I love you" to him. Something just cracked open inside her mind and all she knew after is that she couldn't control herself anymore. She's moving away from her sanity now.
"W-wait, Sana are you drunk? You should go home now. It's already late." YN said, stuttering and made a chuckle as he is still processing what Sana just told him.
Mina on the other hand, placed the alcohol back on the table and went through her cabinet to open a drawer. She grabbed a bottle of viagra and aphrodisiac that she bought just in case the perfect has come where she will need it, and that finally happened tonight. She smashed it into pieces before mixing both of it to his drink and hers.
YN couldn't understand what Sana is saying now so he bid goodbye and wished her well before dropping the call. "Sorry, Mina I didn't know that she'll-"
"Scratch it. I know. Let me just set up the game." Mina didn't want to hear it no more. She starts to set things up until they are now allowed and ready to play. "Every minutes, we'll drink. Okay?"
"Noted."
As they started the game, Mina was quite hesitant at that rule because she couldn't endure longer the need and the crave increasing through her insides. Throughout the game she starts to rub her thighs and feel her panties getting soaked with her juices. She stares at the TV while biting her lip just to avoid moaning early.
The timer beeped for 10 minutes and finally Mina released a long sigh before beaming broadly  in excitement. "Time to take a shot."
They both hold the cup and they faced at each other. Mina eyed YN and looked at his last innocence for tonight before they counted the three and simulteanously gulped all the drink. They both exhaled a refreshed huff before continuing to play the game.
7 minutes has only passed and they haven't been reached the next turn to drink but both of them can feel the effects now. While YN is playing, Mina started to became handsy on him, touching him all around his body and teasing his crotch by tapping his thighs and pretend to press his fists on it while she cuddled herself beside her.
Mina then balled her fists and cupped YN where she was shocked and impressed to discover how huge and heavy it felt around her touch. YN started to sigh heavily and look down on Mina's playful hand as his eyes starts to get cloudy.
"M-Mina, stop... i'm getting distracted." YN said between his sighs but Mina didn't listen.
"Ssshhh... just focus on playing. Don't fight it, you'll want it soon." Mina whispered in his ear before she bit his earlobe and licked the side of his neck and sucked on his skin to leave enough hickeys.
Mina's massage over his crotch became even more relaxing and enticing. "F-fuck.. w-what are you doing to me, Mina?"
"It's okay, baby~" Mina said as she peppers his cheek with kisses. Nobody could interrupt us, it's just and me... so get naughty if you want..."
YN has finally snapped and his stability has completely covered by the drugs he didn't knew he intake. Mina rotated his head and they went on for a sloppy kiss. YN's hand crawled through the back of her head where she pulled her face closer to his, their french kiss became even more rougher where their nose and their faces starts to rub altogether.
Mina took her place and bent down on YN's lap, where they resumed their kiss. He got to his feet, backed away, and grabbed Mina by the underside of her thighs, cradling her around his body.
They collapsed on the bed together where they had their freedom to make out as much as the drugs consuming their conscience could take. Mina removed his clothes and fiercely showered his body starting from his neck, to his chest down to his abs with licks and kisses.
Mina unbuckled his belt and dragged his pants and boxers down to expose his hardened cock already leaking with impressive amount of pre-cum, a proof that the drugs effectively had YN lusting as much as Mina would want him to feel as hers.
"I- I don't know what's happening to me, but Mina is making me feel good..." YN tries to shake his head but the substances are too strong for him to fight for control.
He surrendered on being overpowered and now he had to just watch Mina quickly stripping her dress, leaving her on her black lingerie with thigh-length stockings and suspenders. She slowly crawled to his legs and stared at him with pure seduction her hand slid through the base of his cock to grip while the other went on to cup his heavy full testicles.
"You don't know how much I've been wanting to taste you, YN. I'm glad I'm going to be the first one to do this, and no one will come after that... because this cock is only mine for me to devour." Mina said through her slow pumpings on his cock before starting to drag her tongue through the length of his shaft.
"Fuccckkk mhmph~" YN moaned as Mina circled the tip of his cock head, creating a tickling yet satisfying sensation. Her hand also began to massage her balls as she placed her cock inside her mouth to suck him off.
Mina's loud gargles and chokes around his cock adds an unbelievable sensation to YN. She tried to press his cock through her throat where her face is now almost touching his crotch. Her eyes starts to get watery until more than 10 seconds she released and went pumping on his dick.
She stood up for a while to remove her black panties before laying down on top of him in reverse, her legs wide open flailed each beside YN's head and for him to witness her dripping wet pussy presented to him in full clarity while her head is now beside her erected cock.
Mina tilted her head to direct his length back into his mouth to suck him off, poking her cheek enough to create a bulge while YN began to play with her clit and flicker his tongue around her walls.
They continue to taste each other until they reached their peak, with YN cumming first by spurting a big load on Mina's mouth, with the rest spilling on her face due to the excessive amount to contain before she followed by squirting her juices around YN's face.
YN opened his mouth to savor Mina's sweet nectar before both humping on their breaths to ride out their post orgasms and release their pleasure.
Mina rolled away from the top of YN's body to straddle him on his lap. She grinded her pussy back and forth on his cock before inserting it inside, creating a loud moan from her.
She started to bounce, fucking her tight cunt on her cock before YN joins her in sync by gripping her waist and starts drilling her upwards, causing Mina to scream and shriek.
The claps became louder and Mina's head rolled up at the intensity of the fucking YN is giving him. This is it, this is the exact feeling that Mina used to imagine having with YN and now, her fantasies has been fulfilled to end her long curiousity and anticipation.
"OHHH YESSS FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT'S IT YN MNGGGHHH HARDER! POUND ME FASTER AND DON'T STOP!!!" Mina cursed and murmured unknown words into his shrinking breath. She started to roll her hips to add more rhythm on YN's cock impaling her walls.
YN pulled her arm to press her upper body on her chest. They kissed again before Mina lets go to release a deep moan as she felt the bed creaking and her body bouncing at the full force of his cock drilling upwards to her abused pussy.
"I'M GONNA CUM I'M GONNA CUM DON'T STOP!" Mina's eyes starts to roll as her pupils were almost absent. Her mouth gaped open, spilling her tongue that is now savoring the heavenly pleasure of his girthy meat ramming through her womb.
"ME TOO! FUCK, NO I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"
"FILL ME UP, I BEG YOU!"
With last strong thrusts remaining, YN and Mina came together, their own fluid mixed and bursted at the same time to intensify the sensation. YN carefully raised Mina up to slide off his slimy cock out of her dripping pussy.
He turned around and grabbed a handful of her perky tits to suck on them one by one. His gnawing and suckle on her nipples were strong and shallow which made Mina whimper in pleasure.
She turned her body to the side and YN raised one of her leg to the air. He rubbed his cock through her soaked lips before inserting it back again, and he didn't went too soft on Mina as he got way rough again on her treatment to the highly obsessed and sex-driven woman.
"ANNGGGHHH YES YES OH IT FEELS SO BETTER, OOOH FUCK I LOVE YOUR THICK COCK SO MUCH YN YEAHHHH UGHHH~ Mina said as she spammed praises again straight to YN's face before giving her again another kiss to shut her up and focus on the wild action they're having on her bed.
YN gets up and lifted Mina with him, not taking out his cock to switch positions. Mina balanced himself on fours and arched her back to raise her huge appetizing ass.
YN thunderously slapped it and takes off his cock for a while to bury his face on his and add stimulation on Mina's puckered hole before reinserting and proceeding to pound Mina just as harder as she wants.
Due to the combination of the viagra and aphrodisiacs they swallowed, the effects of it became multiple for them to go on lengthy fucking sessions for hours, almost emptying the night by trying many different positions.
They fucked on the window with Mina pressed on the glass, exposing theirselves to the outside world where many of the people in the neighborhood are asleep and unable to view to sinful act they're committing.
Mina was even taken through the wall, sandwiched by YN's body while hammering her pussy from below and kneading on her pair of tits bouncing hypnotizingly.
Then they went on a stand and deliver just beside the cabinet for Mina to hold on to, with his cock now demolishing her plump ass before he filled it up with another load of hot creamy cum.
Their wild night was so active, heated and intense that Mina slept through the dawn filled with cum on her holes and some scattered around his body. She looked at YN who is now asleep beside him, she kissed her on the head and grinned in lust and satisfaction for the last time before she succumb into slumber.
The morning arrived, YN woke up groggily and horrifyingly found himself naked on Mina's bed. As he sat up, he saw Mina appearing at the door, with a radiant smile on her face.
"YN! You're awake!" Mina lunges onto him and she showered him again with kisses while hugging her. YN became irritated and pushed her away, dropping her on the floor.
"W-what is this, Mina? What did you do to me, WHY AM I NAKED IN YOUR HOUSE?!", he panickedly asked the suspect.
"Oh, yeah. The after effects of the viagra and the aphrosidiac I put onto your drink are now gone so you couldn't remember." Mina sighed and shook her head in dismay.
"WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT THAT I DON'T REMEMBER?"
"I know, I know it's sad that you don't remember, you would've recall how much we had fun last night." Mina giggled as she slowly stood up.
"What the fuck? D-did I... no, no way." YN denied his guess. "No, I couldn't remember anything now after we played, y-you... drugged me Mina..."
His voice shifted into disbelief and he placed his hands beside her head, his fingers clawing on his hair. "Oh my god... w-what did you do to me, Mina? ARE YOU INSANE?!"
Mina just laughed at his agony. "You were the one who made me like this, I just did what I have to do, YN. You keep on involving yourself with Sana too much, how could you be so dumb that she likes you!"
"And what does it matter to you?"
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YN!" Mina confessed. YN just stared at her in surprise. "I COULDN'T STAND SEEING THAT SLUT OR OTHER GIRLS LAYING THEIR HANDS ON YOU. YOU SHOULD BE MINE! I HAVE TO MAKE YOU MY PROPERTY BECAUSE I-IF I DON'T... WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO ME?! I... I COULDN'T LIVE IN PEACE WITHOUT HAVING YOU NEAR ME."
Mina kneeled in front of him and looked at him with pleading eyes. "That's why I did what I had to do last night. If I claim you, no one would have the rights to steal what's mine. I get what I deserve to have, you're the one I pick YN! Nothing would stop me and not even you to say that you don't want to be with me."
"You have to love me, YN. I can give you everything you want. This place, it could be your home. We'll turn this into a happy house of balloons, and we'll always gonna have fun as much as you want!" She said as she crazily giggled with her tears flowing through her eyes.
"No... fuck this. You're out of your mind, Mina. I'm leaving." YN quickly stood up and snatched all of his clothes on the floor as he left Mina alone in the room.
Mina's expression changed from odd into a complete unhinged seriousness. She slowly stood up and took out something from her pocket.
YN was about to dress up on his boxers when he noticed something at first before feeling a sudden tingling cursed through his body.
"OH... AGH SHIT!" He shivered and turned to look at the eyes of Mina wearing an unrecognizable face while pressing something like a remote on her hands.
She activated the cock ring she placed in his cock to the full volume after she woke up to make her avoid escaping in case he attempts to, and she called exactly what's going to happen.
YN's moaning goes louder as he witnessed his cock now leaking already with pre-cum. "S-STOP... PLEASE!"
Mina stopped pressing the remote and walked at him. She stomped on his crotch, making the exhausted YN unable to move more.
"You're in my world now, YN. Whether you like it or not, you're staying with me. You belong to me now and nobody else's." Mina intimidatingly declared. "No matter how your mind wants to leave, you can't go and I will never let you go. We will be together forever from now on, do you understand?"
YN started to tear up at the sight of this new darker side of Mina he never thought he would be introduced into. "W-why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I love you, and you will learn someday that loving me too is the best decision you'll ever have." Mina cupped his cheeks and pinched on it. "By the way, the breakfast's ready. Don't you dare do something stupid or else, I'll punish you. Understand?" "Y-yes..."
"Good. For now, let me get my own protein to start this morning." Mina smirked and cackled as she jerked his cock again with her fist again and also through tugging the cock ring back and forth with her fingers.
YN had to endure letting Mina edging his cock for minutes until she decided to release his cum on her glass, tapping her reddened cock head on it and slurping it with her warm mouth to ensure not even a drop would get wasted. YN then disgustingly watched Mina drink his cum through the glass like it's a milk.
YN has been imprisoned by Mina's so-called paradise for 2 months. He tried many attempts to escape and nothing worked. Instead, he just got caught by Mina repeatedly and in result, he had to suffer on the consequences.
When YN got caught by Mina looking for some keys in her room, his hands were smashed by a screwdriver 20 times then commanded him to finger her pussy until she cums. He even tried to peek from some of the windows and shout for help, and Mina blocked all of his sense of sight and ability to speak later that night by muffing him with a scarf and tying his arms on each side of the bed, where Mina would play all over his body and drain his energy afterwards.
Due to that incident, Mina also began placing more cameras around the house to keep a closer look on him. That didn't made YN to stop though as his desperation for freedom still motivates him to keep on looking for other ways.
He attempted to look for his phones but all of it are gone. Even he pleaded at the guard to let him borrow his own but the guard refused for his own sake, stating that if Mina finds out he might get punished and fired for the only job that's keeping him on living.
The more security devices Mina keep on placing around the house as days passes unfortunately made YN to began losing hope on escaping this hell hole. Even his chances for Mina to change her heart for him already ran out, as he has now finally accepted that this isn't the same Mina he once met.
He became Mina's personal slave, pet and a fucktoy, not being able to let him rest even for a day.
Through every corner of the house, Mina would find a way to force him provide the pleasure she seeks by having sex with her through multiple angles and tasks. Doggy at the shower, blowjob while washing dishes, rimming while in laundry or even a 69 during massage.
On the other hand, the girls began to suspect something strange on the disappearance of YN, especially Sana. They all know that Mina was the last person YN has been with, and Sana is monitoring Mina since she have this weird gut that Mina is hiding something from them.
And she was right. One day while she tried to visit Mina's house, the guard didn't let him in. Instead she took a photo of the mansion and informed it to the girls. Dahyun who has a sharp locating skills, found something shocking.
"Unnie, did you notice this?" Dahyun sent a message to Sana before replying it with a cropped photo. Sana stared at it for a second before her mind processed a frightening revelation.
"Isn't this oppa?"
Dahyun discovered a blurred reflection of YN's face screaming at the window.
1 year later, YN visited a psychiatric hospital in Seoul. After meeting a doctor in his office, they walked through the hallway and passed through some nurses, patients and guests to reach the visitation room.
The doctor returned and this time, he brought the person YN came for has entered the room on the opposite side behind the glass.
Mina is wearing a white patient attire with handcuffs removed on her hands for a while. She was arrested when her former friends reported her crime and was sent through at herapy when they discovered that Mina has been diagnozed with psychological and mental disorder.
Her eyes widened at the sight of YN looking at him with poker face.
She remained silent and lowered her head in guilt and shame for more than a minute before YN cuts it off to avoid wasting time.
"How are you?"
Mina was shocked to hear him checking up on her. "W-Why did you come here?"
"Just answer my question." He remained deadpanned.
She gulped and nodded. "I'm fine."
"Good, I guess." He struggled on looking for other words to say to her but Mina went different than him.
"I'm sorry."
He looked at Mina staring at him awfully. "For everything that I've done to you. I know it's not enough for me to redeem my sins but I just want to apologize to you because you deserve it."
"A year has passed Mina, but I had to admit that I'm still trying to recover from what you did to me." YN said to her. "It was a nightmare that always keep me up at night. You scarred my life, took my virginity away without consent, y-you... you violated me, Mina."
His tears started to drop on his cheek. Mina's heart shattered at the aftermath of what she had done. "For the first time in my life, I've never felt so frightened and worried for my state, not even I would expect from the one I admire."
"W-what?" Mina muttered at the phone. She leaned her head closer. "What did you just said?"
"It's true, I did loved you, Mina. It was always you, but I don't think I could tell the same anymore after what you did to me."
"You didn't know, and sometimes I have this guilt and regret with these what ifs of my mind that... if I confessed to you earlier, would you not turn out into someone I never wanted you to be?" YN continued.
Mina started to sob in devastation. She buried her face in embarrassment as she cried harder, hearing all the confession and scolding from the man she thought she would never had a chance at, that's why she did the unthinkable.
Little did she knew that she was actually winning already right from the start. She was the one YN already prefer the moment he met her and how his fond for her developed.
"I should've been patient. Oh God, I'm so sorry..." Mina said. "I could've waited for you, but I never did. I became so desperate, selfish, obsessive, and too greedy on you that I let myself gone crazy when I thought I would be losing you."
"I love you, YN and I meant that... but I understand now that you won't feel the same for me anymore. You don't deserve a psychopath who will make your life a living hell and traumatize you in any ways possible."
YN now felt a glimpse of pity and distress for Mina. The girl just became too attached and mentally unstable caused by the power of love she received that she couldn't contain, and now she fell in victim for it.
This is why he couldn't help but to blame himself believing he has also have a fault that if he didn't became too coward on his feelings, he could've saved Mina and immediately introduce her the adoration she was hoping to receive from him.
"Did I made you scared?"
"Always." Mina whispered. "I was always alone, my parents always abandon me in our house, I know I have my friends with me but... there's something that you did to me. You're the one who cures my loneliness. I thought that if there was a chance that I could make you love me back, you will stay with me all time like you always do and we'll grow together until the end. "
"And I could've done it to you without hesitation, Mina." YN disappointingly stated. His face twitched as another stream of tears escaped in his eyes. "I forgive you, but I will never condone what you did to me. Goodbye, Mina."
Mina smiled at his remark before he stood from his seat. About to walk away, Mina shouted his name for the last time.
"YN!"
He looked back.
"Thank you and don't desert yourself in love because of me, please. Sana likes you, she'll need you and I think you're better off with her. Atleast for her, she could make you happy unlike me who couldn't give it to you in return."
He slightly smiled and remembered that reminder. "I'll ask her later."
He walks out of the room just as the time runs out for his visit. Mina surrendered herself to the doctor and to the police who handcuffed and escorted her out. Mina carried a mix of lingering sorrow and relief, realizing that her mistake cost her to manifest her fears in full reality, that she'll be alone forever but what mattered more for her now is that she'll continue living knowing that YN is now is in good hands.
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schrodinger-swriter · 8 months
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in whatever format is the easiest for this, can you do alastor with a deaf s/o plzzzz it would be so lovely
Alastor x Deaf!Reader
This blogs first request! My apologies if this is a little OOC or a little messy, I'm having a friend give me pointers on how to structure things until I grow accustomed to Tumblr; as well as this I believe Alastor may be one of the harder characters for me to capture.. but I'm still willing to try! I hope you enjoy C:
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I enjoy the idea that Alastor may already know some sign language, at least some of the more well known signs as well as a handful of others. I do think, however, he is more likely to work on his signing on his own rather than with you.. although, the idea of the two of you getting together away from prying eyes to have these little learning moments between the two of you is nice.. He makes sure your thoughts get put out, oftentimes projecting his voice loud enough to snap everyone's attention to you two. Especially if the pair of you are in the chaos that is the Hazbin Hotel. You both have lengthy conversations in sign, sometimes lasting for hours. You don't find many people who know sign language, let alone being fluent. Honestly, out of the cast I believe Charlie may be the only other character that would know sign.. but this post isn't about her. Alastor is rather open to letting you 'talk' his 'ear' off, his smile of course never faltering. However he is very graceful when letting you know that the conversation needs to be cut short.
He wouldn't ask why you're deaf, that's rude of course and Alastor isn't that intrusive.. at least not that bluntly.. Will likely (somewhat condescendingly.. is that the correct word?) scold anyone who dare try to treat you unfairly. After all you're his little friend and you get the perks that come with that.
Though... he does have a habit of startling you. He doesn't mean to sneak up on you, it's just that his footsteps are so light and don't really cause any...vibration? Shake? Something.. in the wooden floors of the Hotel. He does think it's amusing when you jolt, though.
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glitterjay · 5 months
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lover boy — 양정원 YJW | pt.2
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genre: opposites attract, good boy!jungwon x popular!reader (fem) college au, semi smau, d!e/kys jokes
taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @dimplewonie @wvnkoi @kissestojapan @ilovejungwonandhaechan @suhiiiies-blog
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DAY 1.
you had to admit you were excited to see what the week would bring for you. the reason why you called jungwon "lover boy" was because he did everything to get his crush to like him back. it was cute if you were being honest, but based on what had happened afterward, you felt like the person didn't deserve jungwon's efforts at all.
he said he'd change, and he's never shown interest in anyone romantically since you met him, let alone after hearing about his past experiences. of course, that happened when he was in high school, but you didn't think it would follow him all the way to his college life.
jungwon was always invested in his classes and work, never really showing his true colors to the world. you, on the other hand, managed to gain a reputation of your own in your field of study. how the two of you clicked so well is anyone's guess, but it was definitely one of the best friendships you had made thus far.
after your first class of the morning was over, you waited in your usual meeting spot for jungwon. it was quite rare for him to be there later than you, but you assumed he had fallen asleep in class or was probably with sunoo doing whatever. it had happened before.
you sat on the small bench under the tree that was just a few steps away. you sighed, stretching your arms a bit after a long, boring lecture. the people walking out of the building dwindled from many to just a few. it made you tilt your head, wondering why your friend wasn't out yet.
suddenly, a pair of hands covered your eyes. it startled you at first, but the cologne that reached your nose gave away the identity of the person behind you.
"jungwon?"
"thats right," he replied.
he removed his hands from your eyes, swiftly placing them under your chin to tilt your head back. he smiled sheepishly, revealing his teeth. your head now rested on his stomach as he stood behind you, caressing your face with his hands.
"lunch is on me today, girlfriend."
his behavior was different from his usual self, but it matched his quiet and serene personality. your last boyfriend matched your crazy and extravagant character, but jungwon was much calmer.
you blushed at the way he had called you "girlfriend." it was different, and you had to admit you liked it. you sat up straight, giving your whole back to him.
"great! i didn't bring any money today, so i was going to ask you to pay anyway."
he knew you were lying, but he wouldn't admit that.
as you both began walking, you noticed how his hand hesitantly tried to grab yours. despite jungwon bringing up the challenge himself, it was cute to see him being nervous. you, being your bold self, took his hand in yours, smiling when his head instantly turned to look at your way.
"Couples hold hands. Isn't that right, boyfriend?"
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© glitterjay | tumblr
yup, you probably guessed it right. it will have 7 parts for each day of the week. feedback is very much appreciated, whether its a comment, a reblog, or an ask—anything helps!
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tainsan · 1 year
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misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)
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{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}
do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.
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-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----
⇢ master list ⇠
previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter
warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.
word count: 6.2k
“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.
“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.
“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?” 
Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer. 
“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”
You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.
“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.
“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”
“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.” 
“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.
“Touché Lee.” 
Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.
“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”
“Why would that alarm me?” 
Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs. 
“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.
“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no. 
You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.  
“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk. 
“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.
“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him. 
‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.
“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand. 
“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.
“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life? 
“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.
“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.” 
You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.
“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.
“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face. 
“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.
“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed. 
“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.” 
“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male. 
“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise. 
“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.
“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”
“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.” 
His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?
“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.
“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”
“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be. 
“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.
“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.” 
Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.
“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?” 
It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching.  Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.
Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.
“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions. 
“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.
What the fuck?
----
Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.
‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’
Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji. 
‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’
Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning. 
Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.
----
Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?
Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.
“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.
“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.
“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.
“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.
“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man. 
“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.
“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.
“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”
You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it���s like to have unanticipated visitors.
“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs. 
“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.
“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer. 
“No drink?” he asks one more time.
“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.
“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.
“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”
“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.
Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.” 
“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,” 
Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.” 
“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.  
“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.
Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.
“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself. 
“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.
“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.
“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.
“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.
“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill. 
“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?” 
Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.
“So do you want to see around?” 
“I’d love to.”
They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet. 
“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.
“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.
“How about you show your room too then?”
Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.
“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.
“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape. 
“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.
“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”
You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.
Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.
“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes. 
Peering around the room, turning in a circle
“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”
Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.
“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.
You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer. 
“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”
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genshinluvr · 1 year
Text
Trouble in Paradise
Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: Nanook has always communicated with you through your dreams because both you and Nanook are connected with each other. But now that Nanook has taken a human form, there's no need to communicate through your dreams! You were certain that it was just Nanook who could communicate with you through your dreams until Phantylia showed up.
Note: Not really sure how I feel about this fic 🤔 I guess the best way I can describe my feelings for it would be a love-hate relationship! I was going to post this fic way earlier, but I decided to push the publication time back. I really want to write this one fic, but I need to see how it goes because the isekai'd!reader isn't really isekai'd... but I guess it can be? There are isekais out there that have a reincarnation theme, right? 🥲 If so, maybe that can be a good way for me to have Dan Heng transform into Dan Heng IL :'> Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: A tiny bit of angst, but it doesn't last long (I think). Reader is sleep deprived (aren't we all?)
Word Count: 6.1k
You open your eyes, and you’re in the void. You sit up, looking around quizzically. The last thing you remembered was going to sleep in the comfort of your bed in the Astral Express. Now, you’re in the void, floating through endless space. The last time you were in the void was before Nanook took human form and accompanied you and the others on your trailblazing adventures. A large shadow soon looms over you, causing you to tense up with fear. A seductive yet mischievous giggle echoes the void. The giggle sounds familiar, and yet you’re having a hard time pinpointing who the giggle belongs to.
“So you’re [Y/N],” a woman says.
You didn’t dare to look at the woman, fearing you were going to be correct on who the voice belonged to. You’ve heard this voice before. The same voice belongs to the woman who tried to convert Jing Yuan into a member of the Antimatter Legion. The same woman who impersonated Tingyun. 
The woman towering over you from behind sighs. “Oh, don’t be like that now. Nanook wouldn’t be pleased if he knows you’re treating me like this,” she coos.
You clenched your jaws and squeezed your hands into tight fists. How dare she use Nanook to get you to face her. You slowly turn around to face the woman towering over you. She smiles with mirth, propping her elbows on nothing, tilting her head to the side while gazing at you with interest. 
“Why did you bring me here, Phantylia?” You demand.
Phantylia smirks and leans back, sighing. “Why are you so hostile? I did nothing to you, and yet you’re acting this way toward me?” Phantylia asks, pouting at you mockingly. 
There are many reasons for you to be hostile. One is her trying to convert Jing Yuan to be a member of the Antimatter Legion, and the other is her mentioning Nanook. What does Nanook have to do with whatever is going on between you and Phantylia? You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the woman.
“You didn’t answer my question, Phantylia,” you hiss, narrowing your eyes at her. 
Phantylia sighs, rolling her eyes. “Am I not allowed to meet the person the Aeon of Destruction is fawning over?” Phantylia asks, raising her eyebrows at you.
No, no, she is not. In fact, you did not want to meet her at all, nor did you think about meeting the woman before you. You don’t know how she managed to bring you into this void without being connected with you, like how you are with Nanook. It’s mind-boggling and a little bit terrifying. If she can bring you into this void without having any connections with you, then she can do something else to you— like taking your body as a vessel and killing you afterward. 
You take a deep breath and exhale through your nostrils, trying to remain calm. If you snap at her, who knows what Phantylia will do to you. There’s nowhere to run, and you don’t think she will let you wake up from this “dream” and escape her presence easily. What you find strange is Phantylia wanting to meet you out of nowhere. Does Nanook know about Phantylia wanting to meet you? Nanook didn’t even mention Phantylia once.
You sit on the floor before Phantylia. “Well, you and I have officially met! Is there anything else you want to say to me? I didn’t expect to meet you so soon, nor do I expect to meet you this way,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.
Phantylia gazes down at your crossed arms and chuckles with amusement. “Why the hostile gesture? I am here to meet you, nothing else, little star,” Phantylia coos.
She reaches toward you and brushes your hair away from your face with her index finger. You merely flinch when her long nail grazes your forehead. You’re not used to someone of her size touching your face— aside from Nanook, but that is a different story. Nanook is the one who brought you into this universe, not Phantylia. The woman before you clicks her tongue softly and leans forward, her face a few inches from yours.
You scoot back to create distance between you and Phantylia, only for her to sigh with dissatisfaction. You’re not sure why she wanted to meet you so badly. You can go your entire life without having to meet her, and yet here you are, sitting in front of Phantylia in the endless void where you and Nanook would meet every time you go to sleep. The space you once considered your safe space when you wanted to escape from the world around you. The void was the first place you woke up in when you arrived in their universe, and the abyss is where you and Nanook first meet before you regained consciousness, woken up by Caelus attempting to give you CPR.
“You’re adorable, you know that? I can see why Nanook is so… enamored with you,” Phantylia chuckles, shaking her head. “However….” she trails off, tapping her chin.
You raise your eyebrows at her, frowning at her sudden change of behavior. First, she talks about Nanook being in love with you, but then she decides to throw in something equivalent to a ‘but?’ You don’t like where this is going.
“‘However’ what?” You demand, a deep frown etching on your face. 
Phantylia hums softly, leaning away from you with a soft sigh. She brushes her hair from her shoulders and taps her bicep with her index finger. The void around you seems to be getting darker and darker as time passes. You don’t know how long you have been in this void with Phantylia, but you have a feeling it might be longer compared to the time you and Nanook spent in the abyss together. Then again, every time you find yourself in the void, your friends make sure you don’t stay in the void for a long time. 
Phantylia suddenly laughs. “Do you think Nanook is going to love you forever?” She asks suddenly.
You blink at Phantylia, confused. “What are you saying, Phantylia? Spit it out and let me return to my world,” you sigh.
She laughs again. “Your world? Your world?! Oh, please! You’re not from this world, little star. Just because Nanook brought you here does not mean you belong here— like how he doesn’t belong to you,” Phantylia huffs, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child. 
Oh.
Oh.
Huh….
She’s jealous of what you have with Nanook. How strange. Does Phantylia have feelings for Nanook the entire time? Even if she does have feelings for the Aeon of Destruction, you don’t play a factor in how their “relationship” plays out. Plus, you’re a bystander who was dragged into this world because the Aeon of Destruction has taken a liking to you. 
You hold your hands up. “Listen, Phantylia. You’re not wrong about me not being from this world. I don’t think you should be going around and telling me that I don’t belong here,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest with a frown.
Phantylia scoffs and rolls her eyes. “And why is that? Are you hurt that I said it, or are you hurt over the fact that what I said is true?” Phantylia asks.
You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. You don’t like being in the void anymore. You don’t want to be stuck in the same area as Phantylia. You have seen the damages she can cause, but you don’t want to deal with it, nor do you want to deal with her jealousy. Great, now you’re going to be waking up in a bad mood. You’re going to talk to Nanook when you wake up. That is if Phantylia isn’t going to keep you imprisoned, of course. 
“You interpret that however you want. Nanook and I aren’t dating, and, like you said, I don’t belong here.” You shrug your shoulders. 
The abyss of endless stars around you slowly fades away as you find yourself slowly waking up from a nightmare you were trapped in. You open your eyes to see many faces peering down at you, all gazing at you with worry. You rub your eyes and slowly sit up with the help of Caelus and March.
“Are you okay? Nanook rushed to us when you weren’t waking up,” March says, sitting beside you.
You nod, still groggy from your sleep. “I’m fine….” you trailed off.
Phantylia’s words continue to echo in your head. You don’t belong here. Nanook doesn’t belong to you. Heck, none of these men belong to you, so why are you upset over what Phantylia said? She’s not wrong— in fact, she’s right. 
Caelus sits on the other side of your bed. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look shaken up,” Caelus says, rubbing the small of your back.
You tried to smile at Caelus, only for it to come out as a grimace. “Yeah, I’m fine, Caelus,” you whisper, looking at the floor of your bedroom.
You can feel their eyes stare holes into your body while you space out. Should you tell them about Phantylia? You haven’t been dragged into that void since the incident, and Phantylia somehow manages to bring you back. Phantylia was able to keep you in that void for quite some time, not allowing you to leave.
How strong is her bond with Nanook? She is infatuated with Nanook, and yet Nanook is (according to Phantylia) enamored with you. What if the feelings Nanook felt toward you were merely temporary? What happens when the feelings are gone? Will Nanook return you back to your world? 
Dan Heng raises his eyebrows at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Care to tell us why you didn’t wake up when many of us have tried waking you up?” Dan Heng asks.
You press your lips into a thin line. It looks like you’ll have to say what’s preventing you from waking up from a rude awakening. You just know that somewhere, Phantylia is sitting back with her arms crossed over her chest with a smug smile. If only you were the same size as Phantylia so you could give her a piece of your mind, but she has the upper hand in everything. 
“You don’t have to tell us if you’re not comfortable with it, sweetheart,” Mr. Yang reassures you, kneeling before you and giving your knee a comforting squeeze.
You sigh and look down at your hands on your lap. “I realize that I don’t belong here, nor would I ever belong here, no matter how much time has passed,” you whisper.
Dear Aeons. Why are you lying to them about what’s bothering you? Nanook steps forward, his eyebrows furrowed. Nanook looks like he wants to say something. Is he going to tell you he never had feelings for you in the first place and leave for Phantylia? Nanook looks visibly startled.
Nanook lets out a shaky sigh. “Little One, how do you know Phantylia?” Nanook asks, grabbing everyone’s attention.
Oh, fuck. You forgot Nanook can read your mind because you two have this connection with each other. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is there a way for you to block Nanook from reading any more of your thoughts? This is not good. You’re fucked. Caelus, Dan Heng, March, and Mr. Yang looks at you quizzically while you dig your nails into the palm of your hands. There’s no way out of this now that Nanook got everyone’s attention regarding Phantylia. 
“Did Phantylia do something by any chance? Did you have a dream about her?” March asks.
You hug your knees to your chest and shake your head. “A dream? No. Did she do something to me? Possibly,” you mumble.
You woke up not long ago, and you’re already being interrogated over the woman who’s in love with the Aeon of Destruction. You don’t like the power she holds over your thoughts. Your headspace is occupied by the things she said to you, and you’re certain that Nanook hears it all but doesn’t want to say anything about it because he wants you to say it yourself. 
“Hey, hey, hey! We’re here!” Sampo says, entering your bedroom with more men beside him.
Gepard sighs in relief and walks to you, trying to keep a calm exterior. “Are you alright? We were informed that you weren’t waking up from your slumber, and we all rushed to the Astral Express as soon as we could,” Gepard explains.
You smile at Gepard, squeezing his hands when he slips his hand into yours. From the corner of your eyes, you notice Nanook tensing up at the mere sight of the small public display of affection between you and Gepard. You squeeze Gepard’s hand one more time before releasing his hand.
“You know how Nanook and I communicate with each other through my ‘dreams’ or when I’m unconscious?” You ask, peeking up at the others.
Luka’s eyes widen, and his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “What?! No! This is news to me!” Luka exclaims, propping his hands on his hips.
Oh, right. You forgot Luka is still unaware of many things and perhaps your place of origin. You make a mental note to catch Luka up to speed with everything once this is over. You just want Phantylia to leave you alone. You have an inkling feeling that this isn’t going to be the last time you encounter her. 
“As you were saying?” Luocha says, leaning against the wall with his arms over his chest.
You let out a long exhale and squeeze your thighs. You don’t know what’s going to happen after you tell them what’s going on regarding Phantylia. Still, you hope it won’t be too serious. 
You then go into detail on what happened while you were unconscious— from being in the same void you encountered Nanook when you first arrived in their universe to Phantylia being the one to tower over you in this dream to Phantylia telling you that you don’t belong to this universe, etc. It was a lot to process, and the more you said it out loud, the more you realized how crazy you sounded.
“Nanook, how can Phantylia get into contact with [Y/N] when the two of them aren’t connected?” Jing Yuan asks, turning to look at the Aeon of Destruction. 
Nanook has been silent the entire time you explained the situation to everyone. Nanook strokes his chin, skimming through the possibilities of Phantylia managing to communicate with you despite never meeting you or having any connections with you. 
You shake your head and chuckle bitterly. “I don’t think Nanook has the answer to your question, Jing Yuan. Besides, Phantylia is correct about a few things,” you mutter, tapping your fingers on your knees.
Blade raises his eyebrows at you. “And what is that exactly?” Blade asks, now standing at the foot of your bed.
“I don’t belong here, and how Nanook doesn’t belong to me. In fact, none of you belong to me, which is understandable since I’m not dating any of you. Because I’ve been taken from my world and thrown into yours, I’m an anomaly. I don’t belong here, nor would I ever belong here,” you explain.
As depressing as it sounds, it’s also a fact. You don’t belong in their universe, and you’re here because Nanook has taken a liking to you. Nanook didn’t want to be separated from you because of the computer monitor. Nanook somehow brought you into their universe because the Aeon of Destruction couldn’t stand being far from you. 
“Little One—”
You stand up abruptly and cross your arms over your chest. “How does Phantylia know about me? How does she know how to communicate with me through my dreams like you did? Did you tell her?” You demand.
Nanook goes silent and frowns. You chuckle bitterly and shake your head, running your hands through your hair. You don’t want to deal with this conversation right now. You need to clear your mind and distance yourself from Nanook. It’s not reasonable, but until you have a full understanding of how Phantylia is able to trap you in your dreams temporarily to speak to you, you don’t want to deal with Nanook.
“Can everyone please leave? I need time and space to clear my mind, and having everyone in here is overwhelming me,” you murmur.
Mr. Yang nods. “Of course. We will be coming by to check up on you and give you food, alright?” Mr. Yang says.
You nod and sit on the edge of your bed, avoiding everyone’s eyes as they gradually trickle out of your bedroom. Nanook is the last one to leave your room. You and Nanook stare at each other, not saying a word. You silently gestured for him to leave your room. Nanook sighs and exits your room. Once the door to your room slides closed, you lay on your bed and close your eyes.
You want to go back to sleep and sleep the frustrations away. Still, you’re worried that Phantylia will reappear in your dreams, holding you hostage and telling you that you don’t belong in this universe. You hate how she’s right, and you have nothing against her for saying that. Sort of. You have decided not to sleep because what if Phantylia reappears in your dreams and repeats the things she said over and over?
If she wants you to return to your world so badly, then you can’t really do what she wants. How are you going to return to your world if Nanook was the one that brought you to this universe? You know Nanook will refuse to return you back to your world. There’s a very slim chance Nanook would do that, but it’s very unlikely.
You hear a knock coming from your bedroom door. You close your eyes and try to ignore the knocking coming from the door, but the longer the person behind the door knocks, the more you start to get irritated. You get off your bed and walk to the door. You slide the door open to see Pom-Pom standing at the entrance of your room.
“Oh, Pom-Pom. What are you doing here?” You ask.
Pom-Pom props his hands on his hips. “I heard my favorite passenger is upset, and I’m here to provide comfort,” Pom-Pom says, waddling into your room.
As much as you wanted to reject Pom-Pom’s offer, you don’t have the heart to do it. You shut the door behind Pom-Pom before returning to your bed. You lay on your bed and hug your second pillow to your chest. Your pillow smells like Nanook. Despite not having an official title with the Aeon of Destruction, it does seem like he’s your boyfriend.
You don’t mind calling Nanook your boyfriend, but you’re aware of the others having feelings for you. Since Nanook is possessive and makes it known that he doesn’t like people going near you— especially those who have romantic feelings for you, they never make a move on you.
“Pom-Pom?” You whisper.
Pom-Pom hops on your bed and sits beside you, letting his feet hang at the edge of your bed. “Yes, [Y/N]?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to burden the conductor with your plaguing thoughts. But Pom-Pom insisted on comforting you, and you really appreciate it. It would be best if you talk to the others about it, but you can’t get yourself to do it. What if you said the wrong thing, and everything goes downhill from there?
You take a deep breath. “Do you think I belong on the Astral Express?”
Pom-Pom looks at you incredulously. “Of course I do! No matter what background my passengers are from, you’re always welcome to the Astral Express!” says Pom-Pom.
You chuckle and pat Pom-Pom’s head. Now that you think about it, your main issue isn’t feeling jealous over what Nanook and Phantylia have— your problem is whether you truly belong in this universe or not. Everyone has welcomed you with open arms despite being from another universe. 
Pom-Pom frowns and looks at you worriedly. “Did something happen? Who told you that you don’t belong here!? Tell me their names!” Pom-Pom demands, kicking his feet angrily.
“The ‘person’ that said it isn’t on the Astral Express, Pom-Pom. This ‘person’ is like Nanook, but not an Aeon,” you say, running your fingers through your tangled hair.
Pom-Pom huffs angrily and sighs, reaching over to pat your head. You smile at Pom-Pom and lay there in silence. You’re tired, and you want to go back to sleep, but you’re afraid that she will be in your dreams like the last time. Pom-Pom leaves your room fifteen minutes later, leaving you alone in the comfort of your room.
Days go by, and you have yet to speak to anyone on the Astral Express aside from Pom-Pom and Himeko. Nanook is sleeping in his (temporary) room while you remain in yours. Sometimes, you would step out of your room and walk around the Astral Express, but only if the others weren’t on the train aside from Pom-Pom and Himeko. You weren’t ready to talk to them yet. 
You stopped tagging along with them on their trailblazing missions not because you wanted to avoid everyone but because you weren’t sleeping. The last time you slept was when the Phantylia incident happened. Now, you’re going days without sleeping and keeping yourself awake by drinking lots and lots of coffee. 
You’re doing everything you can to avoid falling asleep. You really want to tag along with Nanook, Mr. Yang, Caelus, March, and Dan Heng, but you don’t want them to see you with dark circles under your eyes due to the lack of sleep. Sometimes, you would find yourself falling asleep but would quickly force yourself to stay awake. 
Caelus knocks on your door. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with us? Everyone misses you. I miss you,” Caelus says, pressing his forehead against the door and closing his eyes. “You don’t hate us, do you?”
You shake your head, knowing Caelus won’t see it. “I’m not avoiding any of you, I promise. I’m dealing with reality right now, and it’s a lot to accept,” you reply.
Caelus sighs, turning to look at the others behind him. Dan Heng and Mr. Yang remain silent while March leans against the wall, closing her eyes. There are times when March wakes up in the middle of the night, she hears you moving around your room. March assumes you have issues with sleeping at night because Nanook wasn’t sleeping with you. 
“Hey, [Y/N]. We’re always going to be here if you need someone to talk to. It can be about anything,” Mr. Yang speaks up, walking toward the door of your room. 
March, Caelus, Mr. Yang, and Dan Heng didn’t hear a response from you. Mr. Yang gestures to the others to follow him to the Parlor Car. In your room, you’re knocked out asleep on your bed. You didn’t sleep for a long time. What woke you up from your slumber was your body twitching; it startled you awake. You sit up and bury your face into your hands, having the biggest urge to cry. 
You want to sleep, but you worry that she’s going to be in your dreams again. Trapping you in your dreams and telling you that you don’t belong in this universe repeatedly. You don’t know what else she’s capable of doing after the first time. Quite frankly, you do not want to speak to Phantylia. You lay back down on your bed and stare at the ceiling, eyelids drooping. You’re so tired.
You tried to put up a fight, but you don’t have much fight in you. You managed to stay up for days without sleep, and now you’re exhausted. Maybe it won’t hurt to sleep this time. Maybe she’s not going to show up in your dreams this time. Perhaps you’ll finally be able to sleep in peace without worrying about what Phantylia is saying due to her jealousy. You let sleep overcome you.
You’re in an endless void, floating through space. The stars twinkle around you, and you feel like you’re underwater. It’s peaceful and quiet. No signs of life around you and no Phantylia to disturb your peace. For the first time in days, you feel at peace. The peace did not last long. The same chuckle echoes in the abyss, sending chills down your spine. You fall on your back and groan. You open your eyes, searching around the void, but there are no signs of Phantylia.
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” you plead, squeezing your hands into tight fists.
A hand reaches out for your wrist, pulling you toward the unknown. You yank your arms back, and the void suddenly disappears, and you’re awake. You stare at your bedroom wall with wide eyes, unable to move. You’re not sure if you’re paralyzed with fear or if you’re having sleep paralysis. You close your eyes, trying to calm your racing heart. You didn’t see her, but you did hear her giggling.
You toss your blanket off your body and walk out of your room. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but the hallway lights are out. You walk toward the Parlor Car to make coffee for yourself. On your way to the Parlor Car, you bump into March. March looks at you with wide eyes, sighing in relief when she sees you.
“It’s good to see you, [Y/N]! I was worried you were Dan Heng at first!” March says, propping her hands on her hips.
You tilt your head to the side. “It’s good to see you too, March! Uh, may I ask why you were worried that I was Dan Heng?”
March laughs sheepishly and rubs the back of her neck. “You see, Dan Heng said I can’t go to the kitchen for late-night snacks because it would keep me up and make me tired during our trailblazing missions!” March explains.
You nod, chuckling while March grumbles to herself. You and March walk to the kitchen of the Astral Express, not saying anything to each other. You reach for a mug and begin making coffee for yourself while March flips the light on. You squeeze your eyes shut when the lights flood the kitchen and wait for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the kitchen.
“I think it depends on what you eat as your late-night snacks, March. I’m sure Dan Heng doesn’t mind you getting snacks at night as long as they’re not sweets,” You finally respond to March.
You walk to the coffee maker and begin making coffee. March stops at the fridge and stares at you incredulously. March peeks at the clock on the wall to see it’s still in the middle of the night. March scratches her head, watching you prepare to brew yourself some coffee. 
March clears her throat. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why are you making coffee at a time like this?” March asks, leaning against the refrigerator. 
March narrows her eyes when you don’t respond to her question. You continue to make your coffee with your back facing her direction. March slowly approaches you while you’re occupied. You look at the selection of creamers and toppings sleepily, rubbing your heavy eyelids with your knuckles. You’re exhausted, but you don’t want to sleep. At least not until you know you can sleep soundly without Phantylia disturbing your sleep.
“[Y/N]?” March calls.
You don’t reply.
March reaches forward and grabs your shoulders, turning you around. When March gets a full look at your face, she nearly gasps in horror. You look like you barely slept in days. The bags under your eyes are prominent, and the whites of your eyes are bloodshot. You yawn and rub your eyes before turning back around to continue where you left off.
“I know it’s still early in the morning, but I wanted to make some coffee before going back to my room,” you sigh.
March continues to stare holes into the back of your head. “[Y/N]. You do know that it’s still in the middle of the night, right?” March asks.
You blink and pause what you’re doing. “I can always reheat this coffee when I wake up,” you reply, shrugging.
March ends up abandoning her snacks and watches you from the corner of her eyes, pretending to search the refrigerator for some ‘snacks.’ After your coffee is done brewing, you add some creamer to your coffee and stir the hot liquid with a metal spoon. March peeks from the side of the fridge, watching you take small sips of your freshly made coffee. You look awful. Almost haunting.
“I’m going back to my room, March,” you murmur, walking by the pink-haired girl.
March perks up. “You’re going to bed now, right? No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept a wink,” says March, following after you as you exit the Astral Express’s kitchen.
You hum in response, taking small sips of your coffee. March stops halfway and sighs, watching you disappear into your bedroom and closing the door behind you. So much for getting a snack in the kitchen. Now she has to tell the others about you not getting any sleep at night. Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus would probably scold you for not getting enough sleep at night. But how would Nanook react to the news of you not getting enough sleep? He does hear your thoughts, does he not? March returns to her bedroom and collapses on her bed with an empty stomach. Looks like Dan Heng wins for today.
When you return to your room, you continue to drink your coffee while scrolling on your phone. You have never done something like this before. Yes, you’ve pulled all-nighters in the past, but staying up for days without a wink of sleep is new to you. This is going to come back and bite you in the ass all because you did not want to deal with Phantylia popping up in your dreams to tell you that you don’t belong in this universe. Seriously, how did Phantylia manage to communicate with you through your dreams like Nanook?
A small knock coming from the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn your phone off and get off your bed. It’s still in the middle of the night— who could be knocking on your door at this time? It could be March, but you’re not even sure what she’s up to after you left the kitchen. You slide the door open to see Blade.
You and Blade do a double-take after seeing each other. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” You ask.
“Why do you look like you haven’t slept in ages?” Blade asks, pointing at your face. 
You stare at Blade, not saying a word, while he raises an eyebrow at you. You sigh and open the door wider for Blade to enter your room. Blade enters your room, and just when you’re about to close the door, a hand stops you. You look to see the other men standing there, their hair all over the place and still in their pajamas.
“I hope you don’t mind me inviting the others with me. The pink-haired girl informed each of us of your sleeping habits,” Blade says.
March shouts from the hallway, “Pink-haired girl!? Excuse me, I have a name!”
Blade dismisses March’s exclamation and closes the door once the others step into your room. You sip your coffee before setting the mug on your nightstand. Mr. Yang sighs and sits on the stool in front of your vanity while Luocha sits at the foot of your bed.
“[Y/N], sweetheart, be honest with us. How long has it been since you’ve gotten sleep?” Luocha asks, looking at you worriedly.
You sigh and lay on your bed, curling up in a fetal position. “Since the Phantylia incident, so, a few days now?” You reply with uncertainty.
Luka nods, gesturing to Nanook in the corner of your room. “Trouble in paradise with the Aeon of Destruction?” Luka boldly asks, ignoring the looks the others are giving him.
You purse your lips before making the so-so gesture. You and Nanook haven’t spoken in days since that incident, but then again, you haven’t really talked to the others since then. Plus, the whole Phantylia being jealous and making you slightly— was it slightly?— jealous, you got over that incident. You mainly don’t appreciate Phantylia strutting into your dreams just to tell you that you don’t belong in this universe and that Nanook doesn’t belong to you.
Phantylia isn’t wrong about Nanook not belonging to you, considering there’s no label between you two (or at least you don’t think there is one). You don’t need to be reminded repeatedly that you don’t belong to this universe. Luka is correct about there being trouble in paradise, but the ‘paradise’ isn’t whatever it is that’s going on between you and Nanook. 
“Not really. I got over whatever happened a few days ago. The thing that bothers me the most is how Phantylia—” You sigh and run your hands through your hair. “I feel like I’m repeating myself,” you grumble.
You sit up and reach for your coffee mug, but Jing Yuan takes the cup away from you, shaking his head with disapproval. You huff and sit up against the headboard of your bed. 
Jing Yuan clears his throat. “If you’re worried about Phantylia appearing in your dreams while you’re sleeping, we can sleep in here with you just to be safe,” Jing Yuan offers.
“I don’t think we need to worry about Phantylia appearing in [Y/N]’s dreams. Nanook informed me that he dealt with Phantylia and told her not to bother any of us,” Gepard interjects, gesturing to Nanook.
You glance at Nanook, and the two of you make eye contact. Nanook nods and walks over to your bed while you sigh, still hesitant about sleeping even though you desperately need it. Even if Nanook handled the situation, then what was the dream you had before getting up to get coffee? 
“Come on, Gumdrop! If the big scary lady is not the issue, then what’s wrong? We’re here to listen, you know?” Sampo says, plopping beside you.
It took everything in you to tell them what Phantylia said to you. You told them everything. Yes, you already said it days ago, but it still bothers you. If you don’t belong in this universe, then you might as well return to your world, right? Fuck. You really are repeating everything that happened a few days ago. The lack of sleep is getting to you, isn’t it?
You sigh in defeat. “I’m just repeating myself over and over. It’s tiring, but I can’t help it. How do I let go of something when it’s true?”
Dan Heng sighs, closing his eyes. “It’s okay if what Phantylia said bothers you, no matter how long ago it happened. What Phantylia said doesn’t matter. We don’t care if you’re from another universe and if Nanook brought you here. You’re with us now, and that’s all that matters. You may be from another universe, another reality, or whatever it is. Still, you will always belong here with us on the Astral Express,” Dan Heng says.
You sigh, hug the pillow to your chest, and rest your chin on the pillow. “I can’t help but still be bothered by what she said, though,” you mumble. “I’m also exhausted and irritated.”
Nanook goes to sit beside you, but Blade stops him. Blade looks over his shoulders and glares at Nanook before sitting beside you, pulling you close to him and stroking your hair. You blink and tense up in Blade’s arms. It’s not like you’re against Blade hugging you; you didn’t expect Blade to do that out of nowhere. But you’re not against it, and it’s nice to have someone other than Nanook hold you. 
“Get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up,” Blade mutters,  stroking your hair.
You peek at the others; some are pouting (Sampo and Nanook) that they can’t hold you because Blade got to you first. You snort and close your eyes, relaxing in Blade’s arms. 
“You guys can trade off on who gets to hold me while I nap. It’s still in the middle of the night, so I expect every person to sleep,” you mutter.
You wrap your arms around Blade’s waist and close your eyes while the red-eyed man lays beside you, letting you lay your head on his biceps. Nanook sighs and lays on the other side of your bed, ignoring the burning feeling deep down. At least Nanook dealt with Phantylia. You don’t have to worry about Phantylia for a while (or forever).
Note: Have you ever been so tired that you unintentionally repeated what you said? That's what happened to the reader— so sleep-deprived that they repeat the same things without even realizing it until it happened. Maybe after this upcoming week's fanfics, I'm going to take a break or something. My brain is fried, and I have school starting toward the end of September, and I need to be mentally prepared for stress over homework. But of course, I haven't fully decided on that yet. When the time comes, I'll let you all know! I wish there was a way to update AO3 readers without having to make a random chapter to talk about a break 🥹 Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @n8mareee, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate, @asoulsreverie, @angelmican, @misdollface, @4-34-am, @sxftiebee, @hispasian-otaku, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vox34, @tsukkikeisimp, @inapileofbooke
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aliceintheworld · 21 days
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PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST
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Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader
Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."
Warning: Intolerance, toxic religion, parental relationship, Jungkook taking off his clothes 😮‍💨🤲 very dumb reader.
A/N: This is my first fanfic on Tumblr and my first BTS one. I know, it's embarrassing. The story isn't that great, and it probably shouldn't be the first one I post here, but the characters took on a life of their own without my consent, and I've been writing this since 2022 (fuck), so here we are. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language and that the reader is extremely annoying. See you on the next chapter! Thank You.
Next Chapter
Chapter 1
I organize the things from the bazaar as I go through the accessories spread out on the table. It's a calm easy task and I've done it more than a thousand times, so even with my eyes closed the job is done masterfully. My mother is next to me, quietly, listening to music on an old radio that she refuses to throw away. It seems that, since it's a radio she got as a teenager, the object has a deep meaning for her and she doesn't even like the thought of exchanging it for something more modern. I hum along too, trying to tune my voice in some parts where the music gets harder and the notes get higher.
Usually on the weekends, every Sunday, my mother and I go to church and the bazaar after the service, to raise money and help the pastor's project. Pastor Leen is a good man and always helps everyone in need, so this semester, during these last months of the year, he has been focusing on the animals that live on the streets. Everyone in the community who goes to church participates and helps in whatever way they can, whether through donations or fundraising, like my mother and I do. That’s why we gathered some clothes and items for the church bazaar, and with the sales, we can do our part. It's exhausting, but rewarding in the end.
During the week, I study at the university in my town and work at the library, so there's not much time for rest, but I like having a busy life. Although I know that, for some people, my idea of a busy life might not seem busy at all. At twenty-one, I’m supposedly supposed to be somewhere else in the world, enjoying my youth and partying with my friends, but strangely, I never wanted that. Whether it’s because of my mother, who always instructed me not to follow that path, or because I’m just introverted, I’ve never gone to parties or had adventures that I could look back on later. The most out-of-the-ordinary thing I've ever done was drink beer when I was eighteen and regret it the next day, feeling guilty for being influenced by a friend.
I’ve never left this town. I’ve never dated. I’ve never been to a party. I haven’t done many memorable things in life. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll regret not having these experiences someday, but I’m so tied to the way I live my life that it’s hard to change, even just a little. Habits are hard to break, whether for better or worse. I’m pulled from my thoughts when the store door opens and Mrs. Jeon walks in with a smile on her face and two heavy bags in her hands. I quickly get up intending to help her, but my mother is faster.
“Good morning, Eunji,” Mrs. Jeon greets my mother, letting out a relieved sigh as the weight of one of the bags is lifted from her hands. “Good morning, Y/N, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Jeon. How has your week been?” I ask, taking the other bag from her. I peek inside and notice that it’s full of men’s clothes, judging by the size and the predominantly dark colors.
“Radiant, actually. My son arrived in town last night,” she says, her smile widening. I’m surprised because I didn’t know she had a son. Mrs. Jeon moved to town six years ago, and I don’t recall any son visiting her or her mentioning him. This is the first time she’s spoken about it, at least in front of me.
“Your son, Jungkook?” my mother asks, curious, and our neighbor nods, still beaming. “Doesn’t he live in Seoul?”
“Yes, he does. But he’s been expanding his business, and I invited him to visit, and coincidentally, he decided to open a branch here,” she explains, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. My mother instantly flashes a smile. An interested smile that I know all too well.
Of course, because I’ve never dated, my mother is always trying to set me up with someone. Not that I want her to. I never asked her to make all this effort, much less to convince the church ladies to introduce their sons just because I’m single. It’s embarrassing, as if I’m not capable of finding someone on my own without my mother’s help, but she doesn’t listen, even when I had an honest conversation with her asking her to stop trying to play Cupid.
"What kind of business?" my mother asks, and I try not to roll my eyes. For a woman of God, she worries way too much about money and status. It's a controversial topic that has led to arguments between us in the past.
"He's a tattoo artist. He owns a tattoo studio in Seoul," Mrs. Jeon explains with a proud smile, and my mother's face immediately turns serious. The charm of a potential son-in-law is lost. Of course, no one is ever perfect enough for her—or for me, in her eyes.
I love my mother. She’s strong, and many times I look up to her when making important decisions, but she judges people too harshly. Ever since she joined the church when I was younger, she’s changed. She changed her clothes, the way she speaks, and even her thoughts. I can’t even remember what she was like before, and even though all these changes were a support for her after my father passed away, some aspects of the situation still bothers me. The fact that she believes people are going to hell just for having different opinions and ideas is one of them. Of course, I don’t argue with her about it and rarely express my point of view. If she knew how I really thought, I’d be a princess locked in her room, with no peace and even less freedom than I already have at home.
"He's a tattoo artist?" my neighbor nods, not noticing the bitter tone in my mother's voice. I decide to step in, anticipating some sharp comment from the woman beside me.
"Mrs. Jeon, thank you so much for the clothes and for your help. Just today we had three customers, and the clothes you donated sold very quickly," I interject, changing the subject. The tension in my shoulders eases as my neighbor shifts her focus to the bag in my hands.
"Oh, no need to thank me. I want to do as much as I can to help the animals. I adopted a puppy last week and I’m in love!" she says, placing her hands on her cheeks with joy, and I can’t help but smile. Mrs. Jeon is one of the few older people from the church that I enjoy talking to.
"What’s his name?"
"Gureum. He’s an angel," she says, forming the small size of the puppy with her hands.
"Gureum? Don’t tell me he’s all white," I guess, laughing at the name.
"He is!" she laughs with me, jingling the keys in her hand. "Anyway, I hope we get plenty of donations this month. I can't wait to see the results of our work."
"That’s true, Misuk. This month the winter will be harsher, so we have to act more quickly this year," my mother continues, and the conversation shifts to the church project. I feel more relieved as the minutes pass and Mrs. Jeon leaves. Not because of her, of course, but because of the situation itself. My mother is very straightforward and usually says what she thinks, no matter who it hurts. I don’t want my relationship with our neighbor to be ruined just because my mother doesn’t know how to hold her tongue.
"Did you hear what she said?" Eunji asks, her eyes wide, one hand on her chest as if she’s deeply shocked. "Her son is a tattoo artist! Do you think he has those awful marks all over his body?"
"Probably, Mom," I sigh, trying to focus on the clothes Mrs. Jeon just brought. "And Mom, don’t talk like that. She’s our neighbor."
"Even so! Y/N, that only happens when parents don’t know how to properly guide their children. How can a mother, who goes to church, let her son go down such a horrible path in life?"
"We don’t know how her son lives, and it’s none of our business, Mom!" I try to keep calm as I fold a large black T-shirt, but then I remember that before organizing the items, we have to wash them, and I couldn’t be happier about that.
Usually, the clothes are washed at our house, and my mother still has to stay at the bazaar for a while longer. Honestly, I don’t want to be around her listening to how good of a mother she was just because I go to church and don’t have a tattoo on my arm. It irritates me, and it’s hard not to let her notice, but for the sake of peace, I try my best, nodding and agreeing with all the nonsense she says.
"Mom, I’m going to take all these things home and get everything ready for the bazaar, okay?" I try to force a smile, but my face feels stiff. My head is throbbing, and I can’t wait to get home. I’ve been out of my room all day, and there’s nothing more exhausting than that, at least for me. She murmurs in agreement, probably annoyed that she can't keep talking badly about Mrs. Jeon’s son, but I don’t care and just leave.
I regret it a little halfway home because the bags are heavy, and even though the distance isn’t long, it’s hard to carry all the clothes by myself. I arrive home out of breath. The sky is overcast, with dark gray clouds covering it, but I’m sweating as if I just ran a marathon. I laugh a bit at my lack of fitness, promising myself that I’ll start the morning walks I keep putting off, and I head to the laundry room to start organizing the clothes.
When I open the bag, I’m surprised by the items. Not only are they of good quality, but I’m also certain they don’t belong to Mr. Jeon. He dresses well, but not in this style. I can hardly imagine him wearing black jeans or a heavy jacket. I’m intrigued by who the owner might be, but I don’t waste time pondering it, too tired to unravel mysteries that aren’t even important. I leave the laundry room once everything is organized and head to my room, throwing myself onto the bed.
My room isn’t particularly special or different, but what I love the most about it is the bookshelf filled with books covering almost the entire wall. It was my dream from a young age to get a job and buy every book I was interested in, and luckily, that’s been possible since I started working at the library. It’s the perfect job for me, even if it’s temporary. I’m studying literature to become a teacher, and I can’t wait to start working in my dream job.
I sigh and pull my phone out of my dress pocket, too lazy to take off my clothes and go shower. I groan, placing my hands over my face, knowing there’s no escaping it after being out of the house all day. There’s no way I’m going to bed like this. Reluctantly, I get up and untie my hair, which falls in waves, heavy against my neck.
I bend down to grab the hem of my dress and start pulling it up, feeling even more tired. Today was such a long day. I can’t wait to go to bed and sleep until tomorrow. I take off my socks, lifting one foot behind the other, and as I head to the towel inside the wardrobe next to the bed, I unhook the bra that’s been bothering me all day. The relief is so immense that I let out a sigh, touching my breasts with my fingers and playing with my nipple, hardened by the cold air.
On my way to the bathroom, I stop and look at the window when I notice that the neighbor’s window—the one that had never been opened until now—is, in fact, wide open. I need a few seconds to realize that there’s someone on Mrs. Jeon’s balcony, and worse, it’s not her on the other side. It’s a man. The most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.
I hide behind the bookshelf in my room, afraid that he might think I’m spying on him, but for some reason, I keep watching him with curiosity, hypnotized by the way he moves around the room and among the furniture. His dark, wavy hair falls over his face when, out of nowhere, he starts pulling his shirt over his back, taking it off lazily while focusing on the phone in his hands. He gives a small smile, almost as if he subconsciously knows the effect he’s having on me. My heart beats hard against my chest, and my breathing quickens; my mind fills with fantasy images of his pink lips and large, seemingly soft hands.
He is... gorgeous. Different. With tattoos all over his body. One of his arms is completely covered in designs, and his chest is adorned with images that I can’t quite make out. My mouth waters as my eyes roam over his strong back and shoulders. His pale skin glows under the dim light of the yellow lamp, and it’s hard to catch my breath. It’s like observing a work of art. A forbidden work of art, I know. It’s wrong. But I can’t convince my mind that I should stop. The man, still a stranger, smiles at his phone as the screen lights up his face. Unlike his body, which exudes sensuality and is intimidating, his smile is sweet and gentle, and the most charming I’ve ever seen. He tosses the phone onto the bed, unbuckling the leather belt around his waist and deftly undoing the buttons of his jeans. That’s when the trance that literally had me delirious breaks. I slam the window shut, desperate at my own madness.
What was I doing? How could I have seen a stranger stripping like a complete pervert? I feel so bad, guilty for having crossed the line and done something as wrong as this. I gulp, covering my face with my hands. I let out a tortured sigh and feel my heart racing uncontrollably. I am sweating, as if I had done a heavy workout, when in fact, I had been standing still the entire time. I peek through the gaps in my window to see the room in Mr. Jeon's house, but I can't see anything anymore and I don't have the courage to open the curtains and try to look at the man again.
It's the first time in many years that I have felt something like this. Could it be desire? I can't remember the last time I felt anything like this. I recall having a small and first crush on a boy at school, something innocent, when I didn't even know what it meant to like someone romantically or as a friend. This was, throughout my life, the only consistent experience in recent years. It scares me that suddenly I feel something different for someone, even if it's minimal. I let out a sigh and cover my face, embarrassed by my own behavior. To make things worse, I'm not even wearing clothes. I rush to the bathroom and close the door, staring at myself in the mirror. I am so dazed that even my cheeks are dark red. I close my eyes tightly and head to the shower, trying to let the water wash away my thoughts. It doesn't work. I spend the whole night gazing at my bedroom window, full of images that I can't forget or erase.
I have a normal day after the almost exhausting night. I study in the morning about different approaches with children on the autism spectrum, which I find completely interesting and complex, and then I work in the afternoon at the college library on campus. This is actually great because I can study even during my work hours with free access to all available books, which has saved my life in recent months. The first semester of classes was tough, but this second one has been terrible, with piled-up assignments and deadlines that are almost impossible to meet, at best. My life has revolved around this routine, and the ordeal of exams hasn't even started. On my way home, I stop at a convenience store to buy something to eat and bike towards my house, which, honestly, isn’t very far but is extremely tiring.
I get home exhausted, collapsing on the sofa almost immediately. My mother appears from the kitchen with a serious face and a tense expression, as if something very grave had happened.
"You won't believe who invited us to dinner." she comments, placing one hand on her hip.
"Who?" I ask, just out of courtesy. Besides not being hungry, I'm not interested in the subject, too stressed with college stuff to pay attention to my mother.
"Misuk."
"And what's the problem, Mom?" I roll my eyes. Until yesterday, my mother had no problem with our neighbor, and now she acts like the woman is forbidden or not good enough to be her friend.
"Did you forget, YN?" she asks, crossing her arms. "Her son, the one from Seoul, will be at the dinner."
I turn pale, my mouth dry. How could I have forgotten this? College has consumed all my thoughts during the day, but I would never forget that man. The man I saw through the window is Mrs. Jeon's son, I suppose. I concluded this after spending the whole night mulling over my thoughts and reliving that body and face, which I can’t even recall without blushing. I’ve already eaten at college and feel satisfied, but the first thing I do when my mother mentions the dinner is smile.
"I’ll go with you." I affirm, unsure. If my heart raced so much from a distance of Mr. Jeon's son, I can't imagine what will happen if I see him up close. But I'm so curious that I can't avoid it. I want to see him. I want to prove that everything I felt last night wasn’t just a product of my imagination tainted by romance novels.
"The truth is, I wanted to cancel the dinner."
"You didn't cancel, did you?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. My mother shakes her head, which makes me sigh with relief.
"No, but I'm curious about the guy. I want to see what he's like and make a better judgment about him. I just ask that you don’t get involved with that kind of person. He’s a tattoo artist and lives alone, so young. Who knows what he does alone in a city like Seoul." she says, and I agree with a noise in my throat.
I’m also curious about him, Mom, but not for the same reason as you. I stay silent as I go upstairs to my room. I look for some slightly nicer clothes without much expectation but I don’t have anything different from conservative or old. I feel sad for no reason and convince myself that it doesn’t matter what I choose to wear; a man like the one I saw last night will never be interested in me, no matter what I put on. I quickly shower, then, after my mom calls me from downstairs, I look at myself in the mirror, staring at the dark blue dress that goes down to just below my knees. I roll my eyes and simply go, with little enthusiasm.
My mom has a bowl with a freshly baked cake, and after saying it's for the neighbors, we head out. It’s the house next door, but the short walk feels like an eternity to me. My heart races as we approach, and I let my mom lead the way, walking ahead. She knocks on the door with three taps, and we don’t wait long before Mr. Jeon appears. He’s a man in his fifties, but very handsome and friendly, wearing a long-sleeve shirt and comfortable house slippers. He smiles at both of us, still holding the doorknob and giving us space to enter.
"Good evening, Eunji, good evening, Y/N." he greets us. I nod, a little embarrassed. Unlike Mrs. Jeon, I don’t see him often, as he is very busy with work and doesn’t attend church regularly.
"Good evening, Yejun."
"Good evening, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for having us." I smile, genuinely grateful. I truly like the couple, as every time I see them, they always treat me very well.
"What a polite girl, isn’t she?" he says to my mother in a joking tone, then looks at me kindly. "You don’t need to thank us. We love having you two here. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable."
"I brought a cake for after dinner." my mom says with a smile. "Where is Misuk? I want to give it to her."
"She’s in the kitchen, finishing organizing things. Shall we go there?"
I follow them in silence, having little to do. My mom is more accustomed to the environment, as she comes here a few times for church meetings. I take a few steps toward the kitchen when a noise on the stairs catches my attention. Then he appears, and like magic, everything I felt before resurges, ten thousand times worse. I catch my breath as I see him slowly descending the stairs. He is much taller than me and different from what I imagined, now up close.
His eyes are dark, bright and large, which strangely complements his sharp jawline. His lips are a beautiful pink that makes me run my tongue over my mouth, enchanted by their apparent softness. Pink is now my favorite color. He exudes a powerful aura with his heavy clothes and his body built like a big mountain towering over me, but when he smiles, I am captivated. His smile is sweet, friendly, and inviting, making me want to get closer. However, the thing that catches my attention the most is the eyebrow piercing. My God. What a man.
"Hello, how are you?" he says with a boyish smile, and I blush instantly. I try to maintain a mantra in my mind, repeating several times: calm down, calm down, calm down! "My name is Jungkook, are you my mother’s neighbor?"
"Y-yes." I stammer and almost instinctively close my eyes, frustrated with myself. He smiles even more, squinting his dark eyes as if he finds me amusing.
"Nice to meet you. What’s your name?" he asks with a soft voice, and I feel embarrassed for not having said my name earlier.
"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you." This time I don’t stammer, but I speak so quietly that I fear he might not have heard me.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. My mom talks a lot about you." he says, confirming that yes, he did hear me.
I open my mouth to try to say something, but suddenly my mother appears. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. I wanted more chances to talk and discover new things about him, but all I was managing to do was look like an idiot who hasn’t left the house in years, completely antisocial. My shoulders slump, and I follow my mother to the dining room in silence, feeling embarrassed. I can almost feel Jungkook’s presence behind me, but I don’t have the courage to turn around and glimpse his expression. I almost automatically remember him taking off his clothes, showing the tattoos that are now hidden, and I flush even more, almost choking on my own saliva.
"Good evening, Y/N!" Mrs. Jeon smiles at me, already seated at the table. I feel guilty for almost drooling over her son earlier but I smile, greeting her in the same way.
"Good evening, Mrs. Jeon. The smell of the food is delicious, as always." I say, seeing the vegetables on the table and the meat next to it that looks divine. If I hadn’t eaten earlier, I’d be attacking the food, with respect, of course.
"Always so sweet, Y/N." she smiles. "Please, have a seat. Jungkook, sit next to her." she requests. I try to not choke again, just nodding, watching the man I am incredibly attracted to sit to my right side.
His parents and my mom engage in a lively conversation, and I try to pay attention in case they ask me something, but the truth is, I can’t follow along at all. Jungkook eats in silence and occasionally answers my mother’s questions, which I’m sure are meant to gather more material for judgment when we get home, but I can’t follow any of the reasoning. Besides being handsome, polite and kind, he also smells good.
With the clothes he wears and the tattoos decorating his body, I would swear his perfume would be woody and strong, but it’s quite the opposite. His scent reminds me of spring, or nature like a field full of flowers. It’s a scent I could absorb all day. Lost in thought while I play with the fork on my plate and the cabbage kimchi I served myself, I don’t notice him coming closer to me and my ear. My whole body shivers with his breath. I try to not make it too obvious, but I think it’s in vain since I hear his soft laugh even closer to my neck.
"Do you want to go to the kitchen, Y/N?" Jungkook asks in a whisper so close that I look around just to make sure no one is watching, especially my mother, who seems to have already formed a prejudiced opinion about him.
"Why?" I ask in a whisper, confused.
"I want to ask you something." he smiles crookedly, which makes me even more disturbed. I nod, still unsure about what I’m agreeing to. He quickly stands up, and I almost instantly follow him. When we get to the kitchen, he turns around quickly, watching me attentively, crossing his arms over his chest.
"W-what do you want to ask me?" I swallow nervously.
"I was thinking whether I should talk to you about this, but after meeting you tonight, I think it’s for the best, anyway." he says with a serious face. His previously relaxed attitude changes completely, as if all the fun from earlier had drained away.
I become worried, my mind filled with questions, until something occurs to me. What if last night, somehow, he realized I was watching him? My body turns to jelly at the thought, and my heart beats faster as I look at his face. I would die, seriously. I would fall to the ground and never wake up again. My hands tremble as I wait for his question.
"Are you and my mother very close?" he asks in a whisper, this time with a weak voice, looking at his own intertwined hands. I nod in agreement, even more confused. Since Mrs. Jeon moved to my city, we’ve become something like friends, despite the significant age difference. I consider her, even if mistakenly, like a mother.
"Yes. I think we have a close relationship. Why the question?" he shifts uncomfortably. He tries to smile but can’t. I am worried but silent, waiting for his answer.
"My mother is sick, Y/N." he says quietly, with a weak voice. My eyes widen at the news. I never imagined this is what he wanted to talk to me about. From his seriousness, it seems to be something very grave. "That’s why I came to the city. She had depression years ago and last month she tried to take her own life for some reason."
"She didn’t tell anyone, I’m sure." I say as much as I can, still shaken and shocked. Mrs. Jeon seems so happy lately that I could never imagine something like this. My eyes fill with tears, but I try to contain the flood of emotions inside me, embarrassed to act this way with a previously unknown person.
"I know. I was shocked when I found out." he explains, running his fingers through his dark hair as if he were tired. "She wants to spare people from the situation, but I wish everyone could know and support her. She shouldn’t be thinking about anyone’s well-being right now, except her own. That’s why I came to Busan, to take care of her."
"I understand." I whisper with a lump in my throat. I want to take his trembling hands and assure him that everything will be okay, but I don’t have that much courage. I wish I were casual and authentic and had the ease to simply say what I’m thinking. It’s the first time that not being this way makes me upset and sad. I wish I could be someone else right now. I wish I could help more.
"I apologize for bringing this up so suddenly. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening. I’m sorry." he smiles awkwardly, puffing his cheeks, and a previously hidden dimple appears. His face turns red and I can’t help but like him even more.
"Don’t worry. Really. Thank you for telling me the truth. I want to help in any way I can. I'll try to keep her company more often."
"Thank you so much, Y/N." he smiles, with his eyes shining. "I knew it was a good idea to tell you the truth. I knew I could count on you."
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