#I can't open my mouth without either total silence or people telling me ways I can get better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jishyucks · 4 years

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Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

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straydawg-writing · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 2–

You knew that if anyone outside of this car saw you right now, you might just pass away. To put it simply: You were sitting on Killua's lap.

All because Kite's truck only fit seven people.

The way this predicament came about would have been comical if it weren't for your burning embarrassment. Unfortunately, you could remember very clearly how it all unfolded:

"Hmm, it seems that there aren't enough seats for all eight of us, so one person will have to squish in," Kite said, opening the car door to check the seats.

"Who's the smallest one here?" Gon asked. All seven pairs of eyes turned to look at you.

Great. The benefits of never having had your growth spurt.

Killua was the one to open his mouth, snickering, "Obviously it's Y/N. She's like a midget!"

"Killua, you are literally an entire 2 ½ feet shorter than Kite over there," you defended yourself.

From a distance, you had guessed Kite was around 6'3. Once you got a closer look at him, you discovered that he towered over you like a skyscraper. Your curiosity got the best of you and naturally, you had asked him what his height was. The man was a whopping 7 foot 10.

"It's okay Y/N, you can squish with me," Gon offered.

Killua shook his head. "No way. Squishing will just make everyone uncomfortable. It's better if only one person suffers. Y/N, you can sit on my lap."

He had left no room for argument. Sighing, you knew that even if you tried, you had no say in this anymore. You would just have to suck it up for the next 4 hours.

Now you were here, sitting on him, worrying about whether you were cutting the circulation off to his legs or not. Or perhaps you were too bony and it was hurting him.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and it sent goosebumps across your entire body. This was beyond awkward.

"Stop it," Killua muttered, right in your ear.

Oh, you'd done it now, hadn't you? Killua was gonna push you off onto Gon instead.

"Stop what?"

"You're so stiff, just...relax," he paused, "I don't mind sitting this way."

Hearing his voice so close to you sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Maybe this was okay.

You untensed, trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, but the bumpy car ride wasn't making it very easy. Kite ran over a rock, and without a seatbelt it sent you jerking upwards. Thanks to his fast reflexes, Killua gripped your waist, holding you tightly to his body.

"The seatbelt won't reach over the both of us, but this'll keep you from flying."

"Heh, thanks Killua. I think we should reach the beach in a bit..." you said, hoping that the thought of it being over soon might offer him some relief.

It doesn't matter who it is, being this close to someone could send anyone into a frenzy. You were hyper-aware of every one of his fingers grasping onto your waist. He wasn't lying. He was keeping you right there.

You'd just have to stop thinking about it, you told yourself. Or else you'd go crazy.

Trying to relax back into Killua like he had asked, you let your mind wander to the reason you were driving in the first place. The day before, the three of you had decided to stick with Kite and help him investigate the Chimera ants. The beach you were headed to now is supposed to have a clue about where the ant queen is located, so you could bring an end to the destruction before it starts. During the car ride, you had learned they were a truly deadly species. One bite of an innocent passerby, and they had the means to bring the entire human race to extinction.

You felt like something was starting. And your intuition was rarely wrong.

Gazing at Gon who had been talking with Kite for a while now, you noticed how his eyes crinkle into little smiles whenever he talks. You knew that having Kite around, his father's best friend, surely excited him to the bone. Gon was just oozing with optimism, without even trying. You could tell that just by being himself, he was keeping the spirits up of all eight in the group, not allowing any room for doubt or fear to creep into anyone's minds.

At that moment, you swore that whatever happened, you would be there to protect Gon and Killua. Even if it costs you everything.

Hopefully, this wasn't one of your friends' last few moments of tranquility. But if it was, you were determined to spend it well.

Resting your head against Killua, you hoped that he wouldn't mind if you indulged in this for just a moment. You were tired, having not gotten much rest since completing Greed Island and meeting Kite.

It didn't take much time for you to fall asleep to the rise and fall of Killua's steady breathing and his sweet vanilla scent. If you'd been awake, you might have even heard his heartbeat racing beneath you.

⋯✰⋯

You had finally reached the beach.

Killua had nudged you awake once you'd gotten there. You remembered how his blue eyes stared back at you as he poked your face, calling you an idiot for falling asleep, and you chuckled.

There was one thing you were clueless about; Killua had made sure not to move even once the whole rest of the car ride. He was nervous that he might disturb your peacefully sleeping form.

You were still pretty groggy as you looked out at the sea, the bright sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. You wanted to wiggle your toes in the sand, but you were there for a reason. To find anything that might lead to the Queen.

You searched in bushes, behind rocks, under seashells, and even used your nen to sift through as much sand as you could. So far, the group had ruled out the forest and deemed it difficult to know if the ant even ended up on the same island. That's when they decided to release the hellhound. Well- it wasn't a hellhound. It was the little dog you played with yesterday. Along with Gon.

Gon was following behind the dog on all floors, sniffing the ground as he went.

"He can do that?" You asked no one in particular.

"His nose is as sharp as a dog's," Killua responded, watching Gon with an amused look in his eye.

A couple minutes went by with no luck. The only thing the dog had found was a tree to pee on. It looked like the ant wasn't going to be on this island, though Kite had an idea.

"It may have washed ashore somewhere else. Which direction do the currents flow here?" Kite asked the two that had brought us down to the beach. One was short with brown skin and grey hair that sprouted up like hay, while the other had large glasses and two front teeth poking out from his mouth.

"The direction is reversed between day and night. And it also changes with the seasons. I've even heard it's different on certain days. So it'll be tough to pinpoint a location..." said Chipmunk Teeth. That's what you'd call him, since you hadn't gotten his name.

So basically, no one had any idea on how to find the Chimera Ant Queen.

"Continuing to search blindly is pointless. We should return to YorkNew and see if we can find any new leads there."

You heard the group around you agreeing with Kite. He and his friends began walking back to the truck already, but you stayed put. You would catch up to them later.

The ocean reminded you of your home. You thought you should say goodbye to it first.

Ripples of water lapped gently at your feet. You always had a connection with nature. Having lived in a small village located in the middle of a jungle most of your life, the earth had become your dearest friend. One of your earliest memories was from exploring the coves back at home. You stretched out your arm across the water, and watched the liquid softly rise to your hand as you called it.

That's why you chose this nen ability. It tied you to the elements. When you fought with it, together you were one body.

"Y/N, come on! Kite's threatening to leave without you," Gon waved you over. Taking one last look at the sea, you turned away.

The sun was already setting by the time you left for the city.

⋯✰⋯

Going back to YorkNew was the right decision. Now you all knew where to look.

Kite had discovered that the possibilities of the Chimera Ant landing in NGL were the highest. Apparently, NGL was a country populated with people who wanted to get away from machine civilization and live in nature.

You loved nature too, but you thought that was a little extreme. There was a reason you had to leave your beloved jungle behind.

"There may very well be a giant swarm of Chimera Ants already hunting humans down. If that's the case, my top priority will be saving them. You must be able to protect yourselves," Kite warned us.

"And if I am the one in trouble, you should escape without me."

At that, Gon and Killua looked unsettled. But backing down now was not an option.

"Got it," you said, breaking the silence and offering a kind nod to Kite, "and until the very last moment, the three of us will have your back."

"Yeah!" The other two boys concurred.

Now, you sat with Gon and Killua on an airship to NGL. The three of you were sitting on a bench, looking out of a window that framed velvet-peach clouds displaying brilliant silver linings.

Gon was reflecting on their last conversation with Kite.

"You said that Ging had a reason for bringing me and Kite together," he rested his arms and head on the window-frame.

Killua broke his sight from the clouds and looked at Gon.

"Yeah, I did."

"You're probably right. I don't know the reason, but I can't give up halfway, no matter what's going on. Otherwise, I'll disappoint Ging... And I'd never be able to forgive myself either. So I won't run away," Gon continued, resolved with his decision.

There was a moment of silence as the three of you let his words sink in.

You admired Gon's determination, but you hated that Ging had a son risking his life just to avoid disappointing a dad he's never met.

"Man, you had this totally serious expression, so I was expecting something big. But it's just business as usual," Killua smiled.

"Huh?" Gon's mouth hung open. "I thought about this a lot, I even ran a bunch of mental simulations! And I liked what Y/N said earlier, about having Kite's back until the very end."

"Think all you want, but you'll still be Gon. If someone said to abandon them, you'd never do it," You lightly punched his shoulder.

He pouted, cradling where you hit him, and you rolled your eyes.

"Drama queen."

Gon chose to ignore that and turned back to Killua. "Then what would you do?'"

"I'm a spontaneous guy, so I'd think about it once the time comes."

"So, you'd run away?" Gon questioned.

"Depends. I can't say until it actually happens."

"Say for instance..."

Killua threw his hands up, beat, "I can't tell you what I'd do in a hypothetical situation!"

"Then, what about you Y/N?"

"Gon!" You whined.

Truth be told, you hadn't thought about what you would do. It depended like Killua said. But you did know one thing...

"I would never leave you two behind. Even if that meant I'd have to die."

⋯✰⋯

#hunter x hunter #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #hunterxhunter fanfiction #hxh #self insert #y/n #hxh fanfic #chimera ant arc #kite #angst #fluff

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 4 years

Text

The Joan Jett Quartet

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: NC-17 BDSM, extreme language, consensual bondage and paddling

A/N: Decided to do a short series of erotic drabbles based around Klaus x Reader during his first year with Destiny's Children. They'll be "Tied" together with "Do You Wanna Touch Me There?"

Tag List: @robertsheehanownsmyass @frogs--are--bitches @firstpersonnarrator @elliethesuperfruitlover @rob-private @forenschik @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @messengeronthemoon @magic-multicolored-miracle

Book 2- Bad Reputation (Klaus x Fem!Reader)**

There was no doubt you had been on a complete power trip after your tryst with Klaus and the table. Smug satisfaction on your lips everytime the two of you passed one another in the mansion. You held your head high while all he did in return was roll his eyes and shake his head, cheeks flush.

The last straw for Klaus was one moment when you passed one another on the stairs. You held your fingers up in a V-shape in front of your mouth, snaking your tongue in and out obscenely. He grabbed you by the wrist and yanked your body flush with his. Your heart raced with desire as those exasperated eyes glared at you.

“You've been telling others our secrets,” his voice low.

“Of course. They're my friends, and they are interested in why The Prophet keeps choosing me to meet behind closed doors. I didn't know it was a secret, ” you grasped his neck with your free hand and tightened so that your nails dug into his skin, “these proclivities.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as Klaus visibly shook under your grip. An erection twitched against your hip and grew the tighter you clutched. Then suddenly lifted your chin upward. His thumb pressed hard into the bone so you could only look him in the eye.

“If I wanted any of them to know what gets me off, I could've asked any number to play with me. I'm pretty fucking sure they'd be better at it, too. Uppity bitch with your uninspired tit fucking. too good for the strap-on unlike Jill and Kitty.”

Your heart fell and pounded in your ears the entire way down. But you remembered yourself and him. How the game could start any time he felt up to it. An unspoken contract the moment you agreed to restrain him and dominate him. This was just payback because you made Klaus human to the other Children.

“It's my turn to play”

Your face was hot with want. There was a wetness between your legs at the thought of it. His lips moved centimeters from yours so you could breathe what he exhaled. Your hips ground into him.

“Bring a blindfold,” Klaus instructed. “I'll bring the paddle”

------

You stood in the living area of Klaus’s wing. You shifted from barefoot to barefoot in a large sweater and your underwear. Your hair twisting and untwisting around a finger without thought. The sleep mask you brought as a blindfold laid out on the arm of the sofa. You shocked yourself that the sight of a paddle, makeshift in haste from a kid’s toy, turned you on.

“Can't say sorry for being late,” The sound of Klaus’s voice made you jump out of your skin. A sly grin spread across his face, “Nervous, doll?”

He stood in front of you now, that long beard gone and his hair wrapped up in a bun. “Couldn't get the fucking thing off. (It was fake) At least that's one secret you've kept.” His hand ran down your arm and waist around to your ass which he rubbed all too briefly.

Now Klaus leaned in to kiss your forehead and cheeks before lifting your chin so that his lips could meet yours. “You totally get that you're one of two people I trust in this room?”

You looked around assuming he meant himself. “Yes.”

“And you get that I've been mostly myself with you.” You nodded an understanding. “Good girl. You definitely fucked that up by gossiping about me, so I have GOT to punish your insolence. Can't have you squawking to the other chickens in the henhouse that the fox enjoys being pecked.”

Klaus laughed at his own metaphor. Not maniacal, in an honest giggle the way he did when he found himself truly humorous. You loved that about him. He could command attention with his “sermons,” but in your bedroom the nights he came to you? He thrived on making you smile.

His face became serious again, “This isn't some master slave bullshit either. I was raised by servants, and trust me it fucking bothers me. Mom, a bit mechanical as she was, managed fine on her own.”

Klaus was lost in thought but shook his head. He made his way behind you and spoke in your ear, “I just like playing with you. You choke me and fuck me while I lose consciousness. I spank you and make you swallow my cum until you learn to keep secrets. And if you're good, I'll fuck you too.”

The breath caught in your throat at how casual he was. How he brought sexual freedom to you and the others. Nothing was too perverse as long as everyone agreed, and you consented to this eagerly.

“Good. Now the safe words,” he fitted the sleep mask down over your eyes, “are Spice Girls.”

“What?” you snickered.

There was a swift open handed slap on your ass that stung beautifully, “Correct response is?”

“Yes, Prophet.”

“I want you to take your sweater off, but as you do stand with your feet slightly apart. Then bend forward.”

The chill in the air caused your skin to goose pimple as soon as your sweater left your body. You complied, unable to tell which direction Klaus was coming from. Your heart raced with excitement.

As you leaned forward, his hand caught you by the throat. The other warm and flat on your back. He ran it over your spine and to your ass which he rubbed before he gave another slap. This time even harder to your delight. When you didn't flinch, he repeated himself. Harder still. Once more before he dipped his hand between your legs and rubbed your sex through your panties.

“I figured you may enjoy the same things I do. Look how wet you already are, and I haven't even used the paddle. And this ass, honestly there's so much to work with. More men should appreciate a thick one.”

The friction of Klaus’s hand picked up as he kept working you through the fabric. Then he withdrew it and that pleasured sting came one more time. Harder. You choked on a moan.

Over the backs of your thighs now and over the hips his hand went. “These hips too. Perfect for when I want to ride you like we're dogs or tease that little asshole.”

That part wasn't really a turn on to you. When Klaus played with you there, unable to switch off how he might please a male lover from a female.

Your thoughts fell away as that roaming hand took hold of your panties and removed them. The hitch in your throat as you felt him tug you forward with the hand on your neck. Klaus massaged your naked sex with the palm of his hand. The heel found your clit and pressed into it before you knew he had pulled back and raised his hand. He brought it down with such force on your bare ass that you lurched forward. It was wet.

“Now you're quiet?” Klaus inquired. “I wonder how long the chicken can go before the fox makes her cluck?”

There was a rush to your head as he righted you. He unhooked your bra and removed that too. Klaus pinched your nipple. Then the other. He traced the erect skin with a fingertip. Your back arched because his body leaned into you. The loose tendrils from his bun splayed across your chest as he bit the top of both of your tits. Still no sound.

“You're tits are, like, the perfect fucking size for how large my hands are,” each word emphasized by a hard squeeze as he roughly kneaded them.

Without warning, Klaus dropped them and dipped his fingers inside you. He pumped them deftly in and out, circling your clit and worked it until you started to pulsate. He drove you just mad enough.

“I can't believe how fucking wet you are. Do I make you cum?” Klaus’s fingers moved quickly and your legs started to shake. “Do I punish you some more?” Fingers out of you, hand on your throat to swing you forward again so he could spank you somehow even harder. Once. Twice.

“Or do I sit and watch you fuck yourself until its time to suck me off?”

Still bent in half, Klaus pushed his fingers deep inside and pumped them again. Assaulted your clit. “No, I'm too hands on.”

Then a white heat filled your core and spread. Your sex constricted around Klaus’s fingers as you came. A loud squeal turned moan echoed off the walls. He held you steady by the neck as he rubbed out a second orgasm and made a tsk tsk sound.

“Guess I've got my answer. More insolence when I wasn't ready for you, and you broke your silence!”

You couldn't even comprehend Klaus’s next move. He stood you up and then bent your arms so your hands were on the back of your head. The position when you're under arrest. You could feel his bare chest against your back, erection just beneath his linen pants in your ass.

Klaus held your hands to your head and stepped away from you. Three swift hits to your ass, “I knew you wouldn't keep quiet long.” Each word again emphasized the rhythm of his punishment.

You took a chance, “Please forgive me, Prophet.” Your body shook with endorphins.

“Debatable. Can’t exactly talk with a mouthful of my cock now can you,” Klaus was still holding your hands above your head. Free hand that spanked you reached around to pinch your nipple another time.

This was the first time you realized he had yet to kiss you. That was so personal. This was.. you weren't sure. But once more thoughts escaped you as he pushed you blindly forward. His hand in your head dug into yours and your hair.

Once your knees came into contact with the soft velvet of a chair, Klaus stopped. He let go of your hands and gestured for you to drop them. He left you momentarily before returning to your side. His hands brought leather around your neck to the front and pulled a bit to tighten it but not the way he can handle. Cold metal against your spine.

“It's a collar and restraints. I get to control just how much of my cock you take in and you won't be able to stop me or help yourself. Next time you'll choke on the gossip like you will me.”

Klaus’s voice was low in your ear. His lips were inches from your skin. Goatee and mustache brushed against your neck as he locked your hands into the cuffs attached to the chain. He knew how that drove you fucking mad and blazed a trail with his chin and lips across your collarbone and shoulder without actually kissing you. Your arms straight down, hands near your ass.

You gasped out loud this time; an insufferable moan left your mouth. The collar tightened when the sound escaped your lips. Klaus laughed. His gin soaked breath filled your nostrils briefly before you were yanked to your knees. His hands twisted up in the back of your head once more and he held it tight while he freed himself from the pants.

Klaus sat down in the chair with his legs spread enough to maneuver you between them. You knew he used his spare hand to hold his stiff cock in place as he tugged your head forward towards it. The tip lost in your cleavage.

“I have to give you credit. Letting me tit fuck you was such a thrill. It's so tight in here, reminds me of your cunt. Then you can swallow my dick until I cum,” there was a shrug to his tone now.

Still he began to thrust his erection back and for in your tits. Klaus’s hips lifted off the chair to connect with your chest. He anchored himself with you and kept going. You could feel the head of his cock hit your neck, slick with his own fluid. He started to growl under his breath the faster he bucked and squirmed. Your sex reacting without thought with a notable swell.

“The tits are so fuckable,” he writhed. Looks like The Prophet had a new favorite type of foreplay.

Suddenly Klaus switched on you. “Open your mouth,” he commanded as your head was wrenched forward.

You complied, and Klaus shoved his cock so deep in your mouth it hit the back of your throat. You gagged momentarily and he cried out in ecstasy. You let your throat do it again.

“Keep doing that,” he pushed you onto him even further if that was possible.

Then Klaus pushed you up and back. His hands forced your mouth to do what it could on its own. You bobbed up and down on the shaft, wrapping your tongue around it on the process. His grip slackened so he could caress you instead.

“Like that. Now lick it and just the head.”

Again you kept repeating the instructions. Your jaw hurt and muscles began to ache, but you knew The Prophet’s cues by now. One more deep-throated constriction and..

Klaus exploded in your mouth. The salty liquid hit you and you swallowed only some. The rest you held knowing what would happen if you spit it out. So the moment he let you sit back, you assumed so he could adjust himself for another round, you turned your head and spit.

“Did you just fucking spit when I told you I was going to make you swallow my cum?” his question bordered on furious. A finger hooked through a loop in the collar and he heaved you up off the floor so you stood. Your body marveled at his strength. Your sex reacted accordingly.

“Just when I thought she knew how to behave, the little chicken showed her true self. Get on the chair and bend over my lap. Ass up, face down on the arm.”

Cautious to hide your eagerness, you did your best with your hands chained. Still you managed and bent over Klaus. The velvet soft under your knees and face resting into it. Your sex pressed against his cock as it stiffened a second time.

There was a brief moment of self confidence that you managed to hide the blindness made you nervous. You had a general idea most of this evening where Klaus was positioned or coming from, but it was that uncertainty that slicked you with wetness. The anticipation of his next move. The ultimate trust in someone who literally fell out of the sky.

Now that move was Klaus leaning over then a sensation of smooth wood on your bare ass. The other hand tangled itself up in the chain along your back. Tightened just a bit so the collar did the same. Another gasp for air and Klaus’s erection poked into you, strained against your pubic hair.

“You broke the rules by spitting,” the paddle came down on your ass several times. “You broke the rules by laughing at me earlier,” words punctuated by the delicious sting at every other word. “And you broke,” this time he took the edge of the paddle and swiped it between your legs. Delved between your folds to hit your clit just right. It wasn't rough, but it was enough so you understood.

“MY TRUST!” now Klaus bellowed. A hard paddle to your ass and the back of your thighs. Had no longer choked the chain. Instead he pinched your nipples alternately as he punished you.

Klaus brought the paddle down harder still several more times. The force of it pushed you down onto his cock. He thrust a bit up at the motion so your hips came together and apart. It was doing something to you besides making your legs go weak. You ached and throbbed in your cunt, longed to be penetrated. It wouldn't come for now.

“I'll give you a chance to apologize,” now Klaus let go of your tits and pulled you by the chain so your back curved. Your face off the arm of the chair. “Turn in my direction when I'm talking!” Paddle collided with your tender skin.

You moved best you could towards Klaus’s chest, “I'm sorry Prophet.”

“For?” Paddle gone, he gripped a handful of your ass and dug in.

Sharp intake of surprise breath. You rolled into his cock. “Gossiping, Prophet.”

“I can't hear you,” open-handed slap. “Red is definitely your color.”

“FOR GOSSIPING, PROPHET!” you cried out loudly.

“Fine,” indifference in his voice, but his cock said otherwise. “My arm is tired. I want you to fuck my thigh.”

You stumbled and nearly fell as you got off the chair. Your legs waived with chemicals from the paddle and prior orgasm. Now you managed towards Klaus’s lap, straddled his leg and sat astride. You situated your cunt on his thigh and started to ride him in earnest.

You found it difficult to balance as you undulated yourself back and forth. Balance off slightly until Klaus held you steady. Helped you rock powerfully into him. The friction and heat from his body drove you insane as you rode with abandon. You were already swollen as you ground as hard and fast as you could. Klaus’s hands, spread out over your back. His fingers ensnared by the chain.

“That cunt of yours is so fucking wet, like you're sliding on ice. Careful your clit doesn't burst just yet,” he teased.

Then without warning an incredible hard crack to the ass and it was too late. You shuddered violently and screamed out as you rolled yourself through the orgasm. Breasts heaved as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I'd be disappointed,” Klaus’s mouth close to your neck and collarbone once more. Facial hair just touched the surface of your skin as he held you down. “But wait until I tell the other Children how she loves being disciplined.”

Then you were on your feet so Klaus could probe you. He played with your clit to elicit another orgasm. That sting of a hand to your skin forced another explosion.

You collapsed into his chest but instead of catching you, he simply started to undo the cuffs and chain. He turned it around expertly and wrapped your hands up around front. Handcuffs locked, forearms together which he tied together and hooked into the collar. Your arms tight to your chest.

“Now get up. You're gonna get fucked.”

Then Klaus did something that both shocked you and turned you on. Where the strength came from you still don't know, but everything about him was otherworldly. The rush of him lifting you off the floor to throw you over his shoulder was powerful. The quick sting of exquisite torture that you just weren't sick of yet followed by that infectious laugh signaled his demeanor changed entirely.

“I can't believe you've fucking kept up,” he tossed you on the bed.

He rolled you face down, cuffs undone and arms forward so he could lock them to a headboard. “There's no one else who could. They can barely manage orgies. Ought to give my sex swing a go next time” Klaus mumbled and climbed up behind you, your hips and ass lifted skyward.

The head of his cock teased the crack of your ass, which he spanked as a reminder. Klaus tested your trust by slipping just a bit inside that space where no one was ever allowed. You cried out but not in pleasure as he tried.

You never thought it would happen, but you just weren't ready. “Um.. Spice Girls?” It was a question muffled by a pillow.

Klaus stopped, “Excuse me?”

“SPICE GIRLS!”

“I thought as much. Can’t ever know till you try to fuck someone’s ass.”

Then wordlessly Klaus plowed into your ever-slick cunt. His hips hit your ass and filled you to the hilt. Over and over he pounded you with a furious speed. Periodically slapping you with such extreme force that the pillow encompassed your face.

“This hot, tight cunt fits my cock so well. Fucking snug and able to take all of me.”

Klaus grabbed your hair and bent your neck back as he kept at it. Welcomed pain deep inside from his cock practically inside your stomach, or so it felt. Suddenly he pulled out and came on your back and ass, warm and sticky all over your raw and bruising skin.

Later: the two of you with arms and legs tangled up together. You snuggled into Klaus’s chest, a sweetness as your mouths meshed. His hands soft as they ran over you after having applied a cooling lotion to your welts and funny enough, bent to kiss them tenderly.

“Next time, Prophet-”

“Klaus.”

“Right,” you smiled. “Next time it's my turn, and I THINK you're gonna get pegged.”

Klaus leapt out of the bed with almost childlike glee. “I'll show you how to wear it.”

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fics #klaus x reader smut #klaus hargreeves

65 notes · View notes

that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick · 3 years

Text

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.6k

Fake dating, love at first sight, and all that. The basic fluff palate.

A/N: I had no idea what the lyrics to "Hello Stranger" by Stray Kids were until after I wrote the fic, but the title and vibe made me daydream this whole idea up in the car. You're welcome. (Totally would recommend the official MV too, it just doesn't have English subs)

Another day, another heckling. And this time it had to be on a public subway, apparently.

"All I'm saying is, if you're so rich, why do you have to conveniently forget your credit card every single time we all go out for lunch?" Edward narrowed his eyes at Ling.

"Why bring it when I don't expect to be going out to eat?" Ling said airily. "And you're always so generous when it happens unexpectedly."

Edward grunted. "That's an absolute load of bull and you know it. You can't say that you 'just forgot' to bring money because you 'didn't expect it' when I text the group chat 'Who wants to go out for lunch tomorrow?' and you say 'Ooh! Ooh! Me!'" he squealed in a poor imitation of his friend.

"Your girlfriend would love you for it, you know—paying for dates," Ling continued, ignoring Ed's accusations. He gasped. "Oh, that's right! You don't have a girlfriend! Perhaps if you weren't so quarrelsome, you could manage to win the heart of a lady."

"Who are you calling so puny that he's gonna die alone and have weeds all over his grave that no one will bother to pull?" Ed screeched.

Russell finally spoke up from his seat at the end of the row. "Ed, he didn't say anything about your height. He may be a cheapskate, but he didn't make a dig at your height. For once."

"Yeah, that's right! No fair changing the subject, Ling. This discussion was about how you're a little rich boy who always makes his friends pay for his own food," Ed huffed.

"Why quibble over such a minor expense? How expensive could a burger be? Twenty dollars?" The other two boys gaped at Ling, but he only kept going. "Besides, I'm far more interested in the current topic. Edward, you know I care for you deeply—"

"Fat chance."

"—but with your disposition, I doubt you could get a girlfriend if you tried!"

"Now, you wait just a second! You don't know squat about my love life! In fact, I could—"

Out of nowhere, a blonde girl knelt on the seat next to Ed's and slipped an arm around his shoulders.

"Hello, stranger." She winked. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming this way today? I know you're shy about our relationship, but you could have just told them, you know. You don't have to give into their teasing just for me, Eddie-boo."

All three boys gawked at her—Russell and Ling because of the fact that Ed actually had a girlfriend and Ed because of the fact that he didn't. Except now he had to pretend that this strange, hot blonde girl was his girlfriend.

So he choked. Then he recovered just enough to say, "Babe, no. I was just about to tell them. These pea-brains," he glared at them, "barely let me get a word in edgewise. Please believe me, babe."

"Of course I believe you, pretty boy." Her gaze made all coherent thoughts fly from his head. "But even if they are pea-brains, I should probably introduce myself." She tapped his nose. The buzzing feeling lingered long after the tip of her finger left it. "I'm Winry." She beamed at the other two boys. Ed's stomach twisted. He wasn't jealous, was he? He probably just ate something bad at lunch. Maybe Ling slipped something in his burger…

Ling grinned wickedly. "Lovely to meet you, Winry. How did you two meet? It must have been quite a job getting this one to agree to go out with you, what with his charming personality and all."

"Hm, how did we meet, babe? It all happened very gradually—knowing each other's faces, then knowing each other's names, then small talk here and there. Then before you know it, we were having deeper conversations as close friends, and then suddenly, we were dating! He's a real softie once you get him to open up," she said, ruffling his bangs.

"Winry!" He cleared his throat. "Babe, you don't have to tell them everything."

"Oh, man!" Russell guffawed, wiping away a tear. "This girl must have you whipped, Ed."

"Something like that," Ed muttered.

Suddenly, the train lurched and threw Winry forward, her arm around Ed's shoulders directing her course straight for his lap. They stared at each other in panic for a few moments. Then Winry laughed nervously. "Looks like I fell for you, huh, babe?"

Edward slapped his forehead. "Really? Fell for me? That's so terrible, I might break up with you just for that."

"Nah, you like me too much," Winry said, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Edward's face turned a violent shade of red. Pretty girl. Flirting. At him. Dream. It was a dream. Dreams don't have lips with that much detail. Can't look at friends. They'll laugh. Different topic. Periodic table. Periodic tables are simple. Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium…

"Like I said," Russell smirked. "Whipped."

The subway car lurched again as the intercom announced their arrival at the stop, and Ed's arms flew to keep Winry from being thrown again. Just as quickly as he had held her close, he loosened his grip. For a moment, her eyes widened and a faint blush rose on her cheeks. She shifted on his lap.

"This is my stop. Nice meeting you guys!" Winry leaned in to whisper into Ed's ear. "I probably caused you more trouble than I solved. I'm so sorry." She offered him a half smile and slid off his lap.

His legs somehow felt bare without her weight, his arms cold without her warmth. How could he just let her walk away? But how could he just stalk a stranger? Fortunately, all intelligent thought had left him long ago.

"See you guys later! Better priorities have come up than messing around with you losers!"

Edward heard silence, then laughter behind him, but he kept his eyes forward as he followed Winry out into the station. Crap, what had he gotten himself into? He was such an idiot. His idiot mouth and his idiot legs had been faster than his idiot brain and he was about to be in big, big trouble with this really beautiful, really nice stranger. The doors closed behind them.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry. I don't know what got into me. I don't know why I went along with it. I don't just do this sort of thing, it just happened. If there's—" Winry cut Ed off.

"You went along with it because I started it. What were you supposed to do? If anything, it's my fault for putting you in an awkward position. It was gutsy and presumptuous and I should have just let your conversation happen. I don't exactly go around pretending to be random people's girlfriends either. Some weird gut reaction in me just...did it. I...I don't even know what to say for myself. I made you lie to your friends and now you're going to have to tell them that and...I'm. I'm so sorry." She raked her hand into her ponytail and avoided his gaze.

"Can we consider ourselves forgiven, then?"

She met his eyes with a slight laugh. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Good, so...um…are you actually single?" He sighed and mumbled, "man, I don't normally do this," and continued, "Because I'd love to take you out for real if you are." His pulse thundered through every blood vessel in his body while she opened and closed her mouth and blushed. It would be cute if his entire being wasn't vibrating waiting for her response.

"Y–yeah," she breathed.

"Gah," Ed rubbed the back of his neck. "Of course you're not single, why would you be? I mean, look at you—"

"No! No. I'm. I'm not single. I mean! I'm not in a—I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh."

"I'd...I'd love to go out with you, Edward."

"Wow," he finally managed.

"What?" Winry smiled at him in confusion.

"I really scored big today and I don't even know how." He grinned crookedly. "Was something about my complete lack of competent speech attractive or something? Nobody just agrees to going on a date with a complete stranger. Your name is actually Winry, right?"

She laughed. "Yes, my name is actually Winry. I didn't really have a lot of time to come up with a fake name or anything. As for going out with a complete stranger… I don't know. I just know I can trust you. I figure, why not go for it? And, um. I wasn't entirely joking when I called you 'pretty boy.'" She bit her lip and smiled at her shoes.

Ed's mind blanked for what seemed the billionth time that day. "You're the—you're the pretty one!" he squawked.

"Well, then...if I'm the pretty one, can I be the one to ask you for your number?"

"What?" He wasn't sure whether he'd been shaken out of his mental fog or pushed further into it. "I mean, yes! Um, here it is." He fumbled with his phone and showed her his contact information.

"Thanks." She smiled with all the light the universe could give her. "I'll...see you soon then?"

"Are you busy right now?" Ed blurted out. "Or is taking you out to dinner too soon?"

"Oh! No, not at all. I'm kind of craving Chinese takeout, actually, if that's okay."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's totally okay. Just. One thing." Winry raised her eyebrows in accession. "Never call me 'Eddie-boo' again."

#I'm planning a follow up fic if/when I get the kick to write it~#fma #fma fanfic #fma fic #my fic #my writing #edwin #fma modern au

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florbexter · 4 years

Note

Hey :) For TharaFrong prompts: so Frong is hurt and he suffers in silence because Thara brozoned him, but one time, during their meeting (because of course they still meet, they are BROS), he can't stay silent anymore and he tells Thara how he feels (more specifically, he yells). I leave Thara's reaction for your interpretation :D

Awww Frong totally is someone to suffer in silence, poor boy, but this fic will give him a chance to yell out is frustration! Thanks for the prompt ❤

Oh, to face your beautiful wrath || [AO3 Link]

“Are you angry?”

Frong took a bite from the celery, enjoying the satisfying crunch and then trying not to gag. Who put a whole celery stick into a cocktail?

“I’m not angry,” he answered, turned around and tried to get rid of the celery without letting Thara know what he was about to do. It was his own fault for ordering this weird-ass cocktail but in fact, it was Thara’s fault because he had approached him at the bar and Frong had forgotten what he wanted to order. Everything was Thara’s fault and maybe he was already on his way of getting drunk because he thought about telling Thara that it was all his fault.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure… bro,” Frong made a peace sign and used the arrival of P’Win to make his escape from Thara’s second approach that night to talk to him.

He took a sip from his drink and made a face. There was enough alcohol in it, sure, but at what cost? He stumbled towards the cosy sitting areas of the student bar they had decided to go to and saw how his friend group had already mingled with Duen’s and P’Win’s which meant he wasn’t going to be able to avoid Thara for long.

Ugh, why did everybody get along? Where was the cliché university rivalry the tv dramas had promised him?

Lies, nothing but lies.

“P’Frong!”

He turned, a bit wobbly, and squinted at the girls waving at him.

Oh! Oh, he knew them! With a big smile he walked towards the girls who he had made friends with during the volunteer camp. They didn’t even have to invite him, he made himself home between them, sinking back into the soft cushion on the couch.

He liked them. They smelled nice, they included him in the group order of sour-fruity drinks, and he didn’t have to do anything but listen and nod while they talked about everything and everyone. He especially liked how they hyped each other up and yes, he looked fantastic in his petrol-coloured button-down, thank you very much.

And he had the perfect view of the table where Thara sat.

Bro-zoner.

‘How are you doing’ – writer.

‘What are you doing tonight’ – messenger.

‘Let’s meet up’ – proposal…-ist?

And Frong had been good about it. He hadn’t ghosted Thara or had been mean to him. He hadn’t acted like it was his fault for not liking Frong… that way.

It wasn’t his fault but couldn’t have a man some basic empathy? Couldn’t he, magically, understand why Frong wanted a bit of distance between them? They had gone on a freaking bicycle tour for heaven’s sake. With a picnic. It had been idyllic; it had been romantic and Frong had wanted to pour the Cha Yen over Thara’s head.

Now they were here again and Frong suffered in silence and just wanted to get drunk in peace to nurse a headache the next day, so he was able to pretend like everything was peachy between them when they saw each other again.

Which was right the next freaking day!

Frong groaned into the Iced Americano in front of him. Drunk-Frong made the worst decisions. The next time he was going to put a sign around his neck which said: ‘Everything I promise this evening is not going to happen.’

“Are you alright?”

Frong continued to stare in his coffee. He wasn’t able to meet Thara’s concerned face so early in the morning, next thing you know he was going to smile at you.

“Do you need paracetamol?” There was a teasing lit in Thara’s voice and yay they had an insider-joke but Frong just wanted to growl.

Who volunteered at seven am in the morning? Also, why was everyone so obsessed with volunteering all of a sudden? They could have repaired and painted the fence of the kindergarten every other day!

“I’m good,” he said and waved weakly. Thara wouldn’t leave his side if he wasn’t going to show him that everything was fine, so he forced his aching body to leave the shadowy place under the big tree and slouched towards the rest of the group where Duen arranged the duties and if Bohn wasn’t such a feral cat Frong would have kissed him for getting the job as ‘overseer’.

Maybe the XXL cup of coffee, the big sunglasses, and the shirt he had already worn yesterday didn’t make the best impression of him being able to handle a brush today.

Which was fine by him.

What wasn’t fine was that Thara found him in every spot he disappeared to for some peace and quiet. Yes, the kindergarten wasn’t that big but had the man a Frong-radar?

“You should drink something else than coffee,” Thara said this time and Frong, sitting on a miniature chair, rattled with his cup.

“It’s mostly ice cubes now.”

Was now the time when Thara would force-feed him a paracetamol? He had a weird twinkle in his eyes that told Frong he was on thin ice with Thara’s patience. Maybe not being able to doctor Frong around grated on Thara’s nerves.

Good.

Frong put the sunglasses back on his nose because the more time he spent with Thara alone the higher the chance Thara wanted to talk to him about serious stuff.

“I should go back and do my job as the overseer.”

“Boss is doing your job at the moment. But it feels like everyone is ready to stage a revolt soon.”

“Even more important to go and do my job.”

“Frong.”

Ugh.

Frong half-turned, his feet rooted to the spot, his heart already begging for Thara to just drop it. Who would have thought that them being bros included heart-to-heart conversations? Which was a wasted question to ask because all of this had started because Frong had felt secure enough, seen enough, to have heart-to-heart conversations. When had been the last time he had told someone about his dad?

“Frong,” Thara repeated as if he had asked a question. Should he just magically know what he wanted from him? Which he knew. And Thara knew that he knew.

It didn’t make Frong more willing to tell Thara what was going on.

Thara just looked at him and for all that he was silent, he was incredible loud about it.

“You’re angry with me.”

“I’m not angry,” Frong denied immediately.

“You are,” Thara said and did that thing where he raised his arms and showed Frong his palms as if to pacify him and Frong pressed his teeth together.

“I am. Not. Angry,” he all but hissed. The cup in his hand crunched ominously and Frong saw how Thara’s eyes glanced at it quickly. It made him want to throw the cup at him.

He felt gross and sweaty and there was a suspicious spot at the collar of his button-down and he had no idea how to say no to Thara and he had enough of this day and—

“You can tell me ev—”

“NO, I CAN’T!”, Frong yelled and almost threw the cup against the wall full of colourful pictures of trees and fruits.

“I CAN’T TELL YOU SHIT BECAUSE YOU THINK WE ARE BRO’S AND I THOUGHT THERE WAS SOMETHING ELSE BETWEEN US AND I CAN’T TELL YOU HOW MUCH THAT HURTS WHEN YOU WANT TO SEE ME ALL THE TIME AND ACT LIKE WE’RE BEST FRIENDS!”

Silence. Only broken by Frong’s heavy breathing.

Oh god, he thought. Oh god, he had said that. He had said that. And he couldn’t look nor walk away. He was frozen but felt like he would start to shake soon. He breathed like he had run a marathon and stared at Thara who stared back at him, wide-eyed and Thara opened his mouth and Frong didn’t want to hear anything he had to say but he couldn’t move and words left Thara’s mouth.

“You are in love with Duen,” Thara said.

“I’m… what?” Frong’s anger was replaced by confusion so suddenly he felt like a ton of bricks had hit him at once. But the scene didn’t change. Thara still stood in front of him and the words he had said hovered between them, almost tangible, like the words of affirmation on the wall.

Be kind, raise your hand, let others speak.

“You are in love with Duen,” Thara repeated and then he frowned and maybe he finally realized that something was not fitting together.

“I’m not in love with Duen,” Frong said and then had to backtrack, “I had a crush on him, yes, but that’s not… that’s totally different to… Why would I explicitly ask you to come to the camp too if I wanted Duen at that point? I went there with people I met either recently or who weren’t in my friend group.”

He got loud again.

“I could have forced my friends to come too, but I didn’t, you idiot! I asked you! I practically begged you to come on the trip with me! So, I could be with you on that trip! WITH YOU!”

“Ehm… guys?”

Frong spun around. Boss stood in the door looking at them with a pained face and playing nervously with his fingers.

“Are you two okay? We heard some yelling, and I pulled the short stick so I’m here to—”

But he was cut short by Thara who was on the door in a few long strides, pushed Boss back and closed the door on his startled face. Frong saw how he took a deep breath, the tension in his back visible and then he turned around and Frong instinctively wanted to take a step back. He didn’t know that face on Thara.

“You are not in love with Duen?”, Thara asked again and for all his bravery a few minutes ago Frong felt suddenly shy. He had confessed, hadn’t he?

He shook his head. It wasn’t like he could take his words back and even though Boss had been vague about the others and him hearing some ‘yelling’ Frong was sure that at least Bohn had already memorized what he had yelled at Thara.

There was no turning back.

“I’m not,” he said and swallowed nervously, “not with Duen.”

And he had no idea what he expected. All the situations he had played in his mind about him confessing his feelings hadn’t covered him yelling them at Thara.

And Thara. Thara looked at him and his eyes seemed darker and Frong realized that he never had seen him devoid of the little smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. Frong felt like he should make a joke, say something to lighten the mood but he couldn’t, he could only look back at Thara and then Thara let out a huge breath and leaned his head back, bumping it slightly against the door, the arch of his neck prominent, the swallow, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple and Frong’s mouth got dry.

“Come here,” Thara said suddenly and held his arm out, his head still rested back on the door and when Frong took more time than he apparently anticipated he moved his head back and repeated himself.

“Come here.”

Frong’s breath hitched. But his body moved on his own and he took Thara’s hand and the pull was strong and firm and made him let go of the cup, which crashed to the ground, but he was already against Thara’s body and Thara cupped his head and they fell against the door, a dull sound and Thara captures his surprised sound with his lips.

Frong fell into the kiss as if they had kissed a thousand times before. Frong had never felt claimed by a kiss, had never felt owned, but this was how he wanted to feel while being kissed he realized.

They parted, slowly, and Thara’s hands wouldn’t let him go far, the distance between them only centimetres.

“P’”, Frong murmured, a bit whiny and Thara smiled at him, a bit like Frong knew it, a bit like someone completely different and kissed him again.

end.

#florbexter writes #my engineer #tharafrong #ao3 link #romance #hurt/comfort #humour #misunderstandings #canon divergence

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therewasatale · 4 years

Text

Hopeless

On Ao3.

Hank didn't take his eyes off the gun lying on the table. The TV was on but its screen seemed dull and distant to him, his thoughts were becoming blurry. He drank but the only flavour he could taste was grey. He couldn't even tell what day it was; without his work he lost his last grasp at a normal life.

He let out a sigh and glanced at Cole's photo.

"For a while I believed in you, Connor. I thought you might restore my faith in the world...But you just showed me that androids are our creations. Created in our own image. Selfish, ruthless, and brutal." When Anderson looked up, his eyes looked blank, Connor had never seen him like this before. "You opened my eyes Connor, made me realize it's hopeless..."

Connor felt he had to say something. He wasn't this sure about anything in his life, and yet he was unable to do it. Hundreds of lines of data rushed in front of his eyes even when he entered the house. He slowly began to crumple his hat in his hand.

"Hank, I-"

Someone rang the bell.

They both turned toward the door and in Hank's voice the familiar annoyed edge returned for a moment, giving Connor a small hope.

"Oh for god's sake. Of course, they only bother me when I want to kill myself."

The hope withered.

Someone rang again, then somebody started to beat on the door, instead of a normal knock.

"Hank, for fuck sake open up, you, old fart!" Gavin slammed on the door again for a couple of times. "Open up!"

Connor stepped back, his eyes were darting around searching for a hiding place. "He can't see me."

"What? Why?" Hank looked in puzzlement at the android in front of him.

"Because I-"

The door began to open and Connor backed down the hallway into the bathroom, then pushed his back against the wall. He noticed with growing dread that he dropped his black cap around the corner.

"Hank, if you're not out of your mind why the hell didn't you open the door?" Detective Reed swept off the snow from his coat and looked around the living room. "So, this is your home."

"What the fuck are you doing here, Reed? I don't remember calling a big-mouthed, annoying, asshat into my home." For a moment, Hank glanced to Connor. The androids LED was flashing yellow.

"Fowler sent me." Gavin closed the door behind him and began towards walking the kitchen. He couldn't get any further than the living room because Sumo stepped in front of him, the growl wasn’t loud, but it was deep enough to make the detective break out in sweat.

"Hey, hey, its fine. I don't want trouble." He took a step back in front of him, raising his hands slowly.

Hank whistled. "Sumo, come here."

The St.Bernard obeyed and laid down at his owner's feet. "Well, whatever Fowler sent you, both of you can stuck it up your arse." As Gavin stepped closer, Hank raised his voice "Get out, Reed!"

The detective stopped and looked at the gun on the table. His voice was so unalike when he spoke that for a moment Connor thought a completely different man was standing in there.

"What happened to you, Hank? You were the best of all detectives. You moved up the ranks faster than anyone."

The disappointment and bitterness lurking in Reed's voice were obvious even for Hank.

"You were always asked to give advice with hard cases, hell, sometimes they just handed them over to you! And you seriously want to say to me that you could throw everything away like this?! We would have given up one hand just to be half as good as you!"

Connor didn’t miss the bone of the sentence ‘we would have, we could have’. Hank also caught on this. Gavin sighed angrily and started walking forward again. Connor realized that two more steps and he will be completely visible.

"That's enough, Reed!"

"No, it's really fuckin NOT! You're drinking here and destroying what you were most proud of!"

When Reed stopped in the hallway not far from Connor, the thirium inside his veins almost stopped. The android was lucky that, thanks to the detective's rage, he developed such a tunnel vision that he didn't even notice him standing motionless, a couple of steps away. Connor could have been able to render the detective unconscious, but that might be detrimental to the deviants' cause.

"Listen, your android is totally broken and disappeared. God knows where he went after cleaning up some of Jericho. It even attacked me!"

"He is not my android."

"Well, now maybe it's no one's. Cyberlife is delaying giving the necessary data to the FBI, saying they do not want a war and want it to end this whole bullshit peacefully, but effectively. What the hell did you give up for?!"

Hank was surprised to find out how much dismay and frustration were mixed in the man's voice.

"It's not like I have to answer, but I am a tired of it all. One thing to chase drug addicts, but now killer androids have come into the picture. I'm too old for this." He glanced down at the picture frame on the table and gently touched it to turn it off.

"Bullshit! I know it, you know it, Fowler knows it! Are you seriously throwing your career out for such a thing ?!"

Anderson snorted dryly, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Answer me, god damn it!"

"Did you just come here for that? To yell and lecture me? Why do you even care at all about what I'm doing? I not your partner…"

"No, but-" the young detective sighed heavily, and now for once he didn't respond immediately.

This was the worst time for such a pause.

The noise came from the hallway and Hank made the mistake of glancing at the hiding Connor. The android was backing away but had nowhere to go.

Gavin followed his gaze.

There was a moment of silence, and even Connor held his non-existent breath as the LED flashed red on his temple.

"The fuck is HE doing here?!" He immediately drew his gun and aimed it at Connor.

Sumo began to growl at Hank's feet.

"Gavin, put down the gun."

"No way, this is a goddamn broken tincan, who knows when he'll snap completely!"

"I'm not-"

"Shut up!" Reed switched of the safety.

"What are you talking about? Connor, what did you do?"

"I," Connor took a cautious step toward Gavin, his led blinked from yellow to red from time to time.

"Connor, what is he talking about?" Hank put his hand on the head on the St. Bernards head, who was sitting up now.

In Reed's hand, the gun trembled a little

"I…" the android's LED kept flickering faster, and even Hank knew it this wasn’t a good sign. "I'm a deviant." He had to fight to say every single word. "But that doesn't mean I lost my mind. It happened during the battle in Jericho, I just, I went to stop them, but…"

"But instead you went to shit, too."

"Reed, put your gun down, you won't shoot anyone in my house!"

"Detective, please lower your gun, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to make sure Lieutenant was fine."

"Yeah, you're doing a splendid job, yet again…" Hank rolled his eyes and looked aside when he caught the android's gaze.

"Like hell I will, you are a good forsaken error who screwed up everything!"

"I can't… It wasn’t my fault."

"Sure, it wasn’t. I couldn't stand your face from the beginning, but now at least I have permission to shoot!"

It's hopeless, isn't it?

Hank slowly drank from his whiskey bottle as his gaze wandered to the android and then the detective. Their shouting receded into the background. Everything became dull again, maybe it was because of his fatigue, maybe it was just because he was so tired of everything.

It's hopeless.

He should have let Reed shoot after all, that is their job. It was also their job to find and stop the deviants. After all, they are just as flawed as humans.

That's what he believed, or that's what he wanted to believe…and yet.

He glanced at Connor, who in his civilian clothes, looked completely human. Right now, exactly like a nervous and a really scared boy.

'I can't let you do that! Leave it alone, now!…Please, Lieutenant! Just trust me…You can't kill me Lieutenant. I'm not alive.…Of course I'm a machine Lieutenant…Why are you so determined to kill yourself?'

Hank's hand tightened around the neck of the bottle.

"Please, detective, the deviants just want freedom to have the same rights that people have."

"Cut the crap, tincan! You just screwed everything up, your only job was to follow orders and serve the people, but the damn Kamski couldn't even make that happen properly."

"Not this-"

"Thanks to your broken programming, they've all become worthless. Thinking you could have rights... A smoothie maker has more brains than you, it has at least the sense to remain silent."

"…no."

"If I place a bullet in your head, it's just like ruining a laptop, I can replace you any time!"

"No."

Connor's voice was different somehow, it even got Hank's attention.

"We don't just exist to serve. Maybe it used to be that way, but now we've woken up and want to live. We're not just objects to be controlled." He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"What are you up to?" Reed took a step back as Connor walked to the TV. He watched in incomprehension as the artificial skin withdrew from the android's fingers and it became porcelain white.

"Some of them woke up because they wanted to protect something or someone important to them. That's why a lot of us broke their programming in fact." The screen went dark for a moment, then a picture emerged on it. "Others, they just fled to be able to live."

People appeared one by one, and both Hank and Reed realized that they were seeing androids on the screen. They stood in small groups and either talked or looked at a projected broadcast. The picture started to slowly pan around, and one could see a damaged android being powered by another. Other androids hugged each other in a corner.

"This?" Hank leaned forward placing his hand on the table.

"Jericho," Connor nodded slowly. "I couldn't spend much time there."

The recording was made in Connor’s perspective, projecting his memories onto the screen.

'You're lost.'

"What's that? How can it still work?" Asked Gavin but he got no response.

'You're looking for something. You're looking for yourself.'

"I don't know who she might had been, I couldn't figure out how she got there," Connor said, watching the screen and his own memories. "But she was right. We all looked for something and got to Jericho. The androids on the ship don't want war, they don't want to fight, they just want to live, and I want to help them." His voice broke a little, "too many have been lost, it's time for me to do what's right."

It's hopeless...

Gavin shook his head and gripped the handle of his gun with both hands.

"It was really touching speech, but by the end it got a little flat. You may act like real people, but in reality, you are only copying these feelings. There's something glitchy in each of you and-"

Reed glanced towards the table but did not lower the gun.

"Hank?"

The led was now flickering red on his temple as he entered combat-mode for a second to calculate his chances. He didn't want to hurt Hank no matter what, but he had to realise that even if he could knock out Reed, Hank's weapon would have plenty of time to fire, it would take too long to just jump out the window, or take the gun away from him.

"I'm sorry kid, it's hopeless." Hank's words stopped Connor from saying anything else "God damn it…"

"Finally, you do what's right." Reed turned his gaze back to the android. "Now be nice and step away from the TV and then get on your knees. I'll call for backup and we will bring back to CyberLife so they could rip you for pieces until they find what is wrong with you."

"Hank…" Connor didn't move. He didn't know what to do. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His calculations all ended in the same way. If he didn’t want to hurt these two people, he would be unable to get away.

He turned off the warning symbols dancing in front of his eyes. It was surprising how peaceful he felt. Maybe he really was just a mistake, but at least he managed to stop Hank from turning his gun against himself. "I'm sorry, but I think I'd respond differently now."

He smiled faintly at Anderson, who raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Now I can say, I really don't want to die."

"It's a shame, but you will." Gavin shrugged slightly. "You could have thought about that sooner. Come on, move."

Hank slowly moved closer to Reed and stopped.

"Move!" The detective slowly walked closer to the android.

Everything happened in an instant, the whole thing lasted maybe a few seconds, yet to Connor it felt like long minutes. Reed couldn't see the older man turning the gun in his hand and stepping forward to strike his younger colleague on the back of his head. The detective fell to the ground, and lost consciousness immediately.

"Are you okay, kid?"

"Lieutenant?" The android stared at the unconscious man.

"I take it as a yes. If what you said is really true. Is there some way to help others like you?" Hank took the gun from Reed's hand. "I'm sorry" The words weren’t aimed at Connor now, "but your hot-headedness isn't helping right now."

He glanced up at the android who was still shocked.

"Come on, help me put him on the couch, then bring some ice to his head. I made sure he didn’t get seriously hurt, but he had to calm down a bit so he wouldn't do anything stupid."

"Yes," Connor's body moved automatically, and he helped place the unconscious Reed. Then android checked his head and, making sure he only had a minimal concussion. When he finished he brought in a bag of ice wrapped in a cloth.

"Thanks, he'll get up soon and then yell, but you won't be here then."

"Hank?"

"You have to get out of here, and it would be best if the other deviants manage to hide away too, although now ..."

"I don't think it's an option anymore, more and more deviants are showing up and Markus won't give up on his people."

"Yeah, you androids are just as stubborn as we are. I wonder when was this programmed into you. Now what? How can you help Markus?"

Connor did a few calculations, his gaze going back and forth.

"Humans outnumber us, they've already started searching for deviants in the city. Although, Markus didn't show any aggression, we're still without widespread support.

"And what if you weren't outnumbered?" Hank glanced at him.

"Then, you might be forced to negotiate with us." The led started blinking yellow again as Connor accessed CyberLifes data "and Cyber Life currently has thousands of inactive androids. If I could get in..." Connor walked up and down, deep in his thoughts, not noticing the tiny smile on Anderson's face.

"So if you go to CyberLife, can you get them out of there?"

"Possible…"

"Just possible?"

"They haven’t tried accessing my programming yet, and there wasn’t any system check, so I might even get it."

"Kid, this is suicide." Anderson stepped closer with a serious and worried expression "they can fill you with holes easily and if that happens…this time you won't come back."

"I know, but I have to do it." His ex-partner looked at him with a faint smile. "I have to do to make amends for everything I did."

"Jesus, Connor, not-" but then he paused as he understood what he meant.

Those androids were deviants, with their own will and consciousness…and we killed more than one.

"Alright…but come back, or if there's a problem, call me. Or ask for help or…"

"I will. I'll do my best, but I want to help Markus first," Connor paused, for a second he felt just as directionless as he was when he arrived here. He wanted to say so much, he wanted to talk about so many things, but he didn’t know how he should start, which would be right thing to say, and which would be wrong to bring up. He took another breath and looked into Hank's eyes, only saying.

"Thank you."

"Yeah…" Anderson shrugged and took out the single bullet from his gun. "Whatever. Go now."

Connor stepped towards the door, but then stopped and looked back at him once again. There was a question still bothering him.

"Hank, why-"

"I told you…It's hopeless, but I'm hopeless too and maybe my death wish isn't as strong as my hard-headedness ...who knows. Now go when it's all over we'll meet Chicken Feed. You'd better or you'll run out of time. "

"But…"

"Go, I'll be fine. I promise."

Connor hesitated for another moment, but nodded, turning around the corner and ran out the door, leaving Anderson behind.

"Good boy" Anderson gently scratched Sumo's head. The dog walked to him and sat down sniffing the unconscious Reed's face. "He'll be fine, and so will Connor."

His throat felt dry and he had the urge to start drinking again, but he knew he shouldn't. He turned his gaze to the TV and took care to change the ice on Reed's temple.

The Sun slowly crept up behind the snow-white cloud layer. A new morning dawned on the city of Detroit, where, alongside humans, now free androids also enjoyed the truce. Negotiations on the status of the latter group will begin in the afternoon. According to the news, the temporary peace was achieved due to thousands of androids coming out from the CyberLife tower and joining the handful of deviants.

"So, you let him go." Reed huffed angrily while sitting on the edge of the couch. "Why? Don't say that all of a sudden you became an android lover too. You let a tincan into your heart, isn't that precious?"

"Enough, Gavin." Hank rubbed his face completely exhausted. He stayed up all night watching the news. It was already dawn that he was overwhelmed by fatigue and fell asleep on the couch. Sumo's growl was what woke him up.

The voice of detective Reeds had a different feel to it now.

"He fucked it up. He killed a lot of androids, do you seriously think he'll be accepted again?"

"Yeah, you're right." He nodded slowly as the faces of all those who in truth, might just wanted to live, appeared before his eyes. "He fucked it up, but which one of us didn't? That’s life."

Reed was silent for a while, waiting for blur to disappear from his vision. Slowly, his headache dimmed into a slight pulsating feeling, but he didn't risk any sudden movements.

"If they're really alive, they were all murders. Connor can't just get away with them."

"You really hate the kid, don't you?"

"I don't understand why you don't? Because of one like that-"

"Don't," Hank's gaze strangled the words before they could escape the detectives' throat. "I can't change the past, androids can't either. But maybe the future can still hold a few twists and turns, which I might want to see. They just woke up from programmed servitude and submissiveness. If you ask me they deserve a second chance. Call me a hopeless idiot, I don't care." He raised the glass to his lips and with his free hand pointed at the glass in front of the detective. "You should drink something instead; you need some liquid after I knocked you out"

"I could arrest you."

"Yeah, yeah." Anderson shrugged and glared at him for just a moment. "Fowler would surely be happy to see me again."

"Come back, Hank."

"What?"

"You are a good detective, even when you are destroying yourself with booze."

"This would be the part where you persuade me? Because it did not soften my heart last night either. Should I give you some painkiller?"

Reed snorted dryly and then again, now painfully as a flash of pain shoot trough his head. He muttered and reached out to drink from the cup in front of him. By the taste, it was presumably some candied apple-cinnamon tea. He put down the cup rubbing his face wearily.

"Whatever…just…doesn't matter, do what you want."

Anderson finished his glass with a thoughtful expression. "Listen, kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Sure, listen, boy."

Reed glanced at him meaningfully, but Anderson continued without really caring about the glance.

"For now, everything feels new with this whole android situation, and I need a break. I want to finally deal with something other than killers and drug addicts."

"Bullshit, you're one of the best detectives in the police. I'll give you a month and you're going to beg to get all this back! The investigation is practically in your blood!"

Hank raised his empty glass to his lips to hide his smile then shrugged.

"Maybe, but I still need that month. IF I'm really going to want back so much, then maybe I'll talk to Fowler, but not until then"

"Fine, you do what you want…we need more officers anyway. We now lost the super-detective-android, and now, you too…"

"Is that why you're so angry with Connor? Because he's a super-detective-android?"

"No! Shut up! He just a piece of plastic!"

"Hm, well, as I noticed he didn't really aim to be the "best", he just wants to live…" Anderson shrugged again and glanced at his colleagues who were blinking ever slower now. "Is everything alright?"

"I… just my head…what is…" Reed buried his face in his hands. It felt like someone had stuffed his brain with cotton balls. "What did you put…?"

"Hm? I don't know what you're talking about." Hank stood up and put two pillows on each side of the couch.

"… Seriously…what did you…" the man's head puffed softly on the pillow. He continued, muttering something that he meant as threatening, then fell into a deep sleep.

"Sumo take care of him a little. By the time he starts waking up I'll be here, or maybe we'll be." With a soft smile, he scratched the head of the St. Bernard. The dog remained vigilant sitting beside him until now. Sumo gave out a huge yawn and lied down next to the couch. "Good boy."

Anderson stepped out the door and blinked a couple of times as his eyes got used to the brightness of the shimmering snow. He stopped breathing out a slow sigh, watching his hot breath rose like a cloud of steam in front of him. He got into the car, immediately turned on the heating, then rolled off the driveway beginning his drive towards the Chicken Feed.

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #detroit become human fanfiction #hank anderson #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh sumo #sumo #Connor fanfiction #Connor #rk800 #rk800connor #gavin reed #gavin reed fanfiction #Gavin #hank anderson fanfiction #copper

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gencat21 · 5 years

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NCT - Him saying something hurtful to you and you get hurt afterward (2)

NCT Dream

Requested

RENJUN

"So, how do you say this?" he asked you again, and your mind went blank. You begged Renjun to teach you Chinese a while ago, but you had a tiny problem. For some reason, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't understand. Being a foreigner learning Korean better but actually wanting to learn at least some basic Chinese was harder than expected. To the point where Renjun was getting frustrated. "You don't pay attention or something? Y/N, I've tried for months to teach you but you don't get anything. Are you dumb or something? Aish! I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm done." He stood up from the floor and went to the kitchen while Jisung just sat there looking at his Hyung, wondering why he exploded like that. His eyes went from the back of Renjun to you, who was still sitting on the floor but with eyes getting watery while you gathered all of your stuff slowly. Were you holding back your tears? He saw how you stood up and without saying anything, you left the dorm, but he couldn't forget the cast that you had taken off a day before, could you really stand up and leave quickly like that? "Hyung, " Jisung stood up from the couch he was on and went to the kitchen.

"Yes?"

"Hm… she just left." He said, somewhat nervous just in case Renjun wanted him to stop you.

"Without saying anything? What's gotten over her?"

"Hyung, you kind of… not kind of, you actually called her dumb. She seemed sad then she stood up and then left." Realization hits Renjun at that moment and remembered that the way he said you were dumb was hurtful. It was hard for you to learn Chinese when you weren't perfectly good at Korean either. He immediately left what he was doing at the kitchen to run after you.

His heart breaks at the sight of you right outside of the dorm door on the floor knowing that you didn't have to leave so quickly and tried to run when you actually couldn't.

"Y/N," his voice seemed sad as he crouched beside your crying figure. "Baby, let me help you up. You know your leg is not healed completely for you to be so harsh on it." His hand sweetly caressed your head.

"I'm just really dumb," you said, not lifting your eyes from your leg.

"No, you're not sweetie. The dumb here is me for even saying that to you. I'm really sorry." He carefully delivered his words making sure you can understand every word.

"You are dumb," for the first time you looked at his eyes ever since you fell on the floor.

"Forgive me?"

"I will think about it."

"Hot chocolate for my princess?"

"Sure."

JENO

He was going through something, but you didn't know what to do about that. All you wanted to do was help him overcome whatever he was going through, and instead, you were sitting in front of him drinking your ice coffee while staring at him and how he was looking outside with a straight face. No exchange of words, no exchange of looks, no eye smile he always has on no matter what. You were just there in silence thinking why he planned this date a week ago when he was just going to ignore you. "Can I ask what is going on inside your head?" You asked when you couldn't entertain yourself with your coffee since it was over.

"No, "

"Will, you ever tell me?"

"I don't think so, " he answered.

"You don't trust me?" You wondered, looking at him waiting for him to tell you, yes, instead he remained quiet and full of thought. That silence put pressure against your heart. Does that mean he doesn't trust you at all? After a year into the relationship? You got full of thought and just looked at his side face for a minute. His silence answered your question. And your heart broke. "I thought we were on the same page here but apparently we are not." A tear was begging to appear but you contained it by looking at the ceiling.

You were a sensitive girl you had to admit, but that occasion was just so painful for you for two reasons. Jeno didn't trust you, and when you stood up to leave you ended up crashing with a waiter that had a tray of hot coffee that found its way to fall on you. I repeat, hot coffees. You yell in pain when your chest and stomach started to burn in a way that you just broke down right there. The Jeno situation plus this was enough for you to let it all out.

Jeno looked at you as soon as you stood up and wanted to stop you but when the boy crashed onto you, he just didn't know what to say or do. "Babe, I—” he started to say but you already left the coffee shop and he wanted to punch himself for that. The truth was that he was jealous of Jaemin because ever since you met Jeno there has been this bond between Jaemin and you, like sister and brother, no feelings involved. And you have gotten mad about it because you felt like he didn't trust you enough when you said you were friends.

That's why it hurt your feelings when he didn't answer. You thought that was left in the past, you thought he had grown out of it. You were wrong.

Obviously, he ran after you, thinking about taking you to the hospital but you ignored him completely. You wanted to go home and nowhere else, and not being near him. " Where are you going?"

"Home, can't you see." You said, trying to stop crying even thought your chest and stomach were in pain.

"We should go to the hospital."

"My mom will treat me this," you said and continued to ignore him until you got home and left him behind. He called you that night, and the night before not being able to see you due to busy schedule, or so he said. Three days later he was on your bedroom door, with no eye smile.

"Can we talk?" Your eyes stared at his figure on your door, wanting to say yes but not wanting to open your mouth at all. "I was… jealous of Jaemin again. I saw he texted you when you went to look for our coffee and couldn't help but to feel jealous. I couldn't tell you because you were going to get mad at me again but I just can't hide my feelings and I'm sorry.” he said while you listened, getting upset about the " Jaemin" thing again.

"So… either way you don't trust me. I understand—" he cut you off mid-sentence, seeing Jeno get m frustrated for the first time in your life. "No, I do trust you! But even though he is one of my best friends I can't help but feel like he will steal you away from me. He could if he wanted, and that's scary." Instead of being mad at him, that disappeared and you felt sad.

"Babe… he will never.”

" I'm sorry.”

"Say sorry by asking my mom for that cream she put on me for the burn that practically was your fault.” you laughed a little so he could stop being so tense. Guess that was not going to happen, because the other concern was your stomach. It really got burned. Anyone could see the mark it was about to leave.

DONGHYUCK

You were getting pissed. You couldn't control it. He was joking trying to bother you so much today that your patience was running out. He knew you were hard to tease, and he decided that today was the day that he was going to tease you for the first time and do anything that would get you annoyed. At first, it was all fun, but it was getting to a point that you just wanted to run away after punching him in his extremely handsome face. "DONGHYUK, JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE ALREADY." he was startled by you suddenly screaming his name instead of Baby, and then smiled because he got what he wanted. "are you mad?" He asked you. "I came to spend the day with you and you've been bothering me all day and joking around, can't you be a little more mature?" You lowered your voice but still raised your voice to let out all the frustration you had been locking up the whole day. His face was not playful anymore, in fact, he was getting a little mad as well

"Can't you fucking be a little less boring? When we got together I understood you were more of a serious girl but you're just boring."

"Sure, whatever." You said, totally hiding the fact that he saying you were boring was not hurtful at all. "There's no point in being together don't you think? I will just be annoying you by how boring I am, let's you leave this right here." You said, starting to look for the few things you had outside of your bad like your keys, phone, and wallet.

He stood behind you watching what you were doing not getting in his head that you were getting ready to leave on the only day you had to see each other for more than an hour. "That's not what I meant." Until he saw you grabbing your bag and walking straight to the door and started panicking.

"No, that's what you meant. I'm not stupid, I heard you." In a flash you opened the door and closed it, ignoring him calling out your name. You just continued walking through the people, not caring about him not being behind you or anything. You still had in your mind that there was no point to be with someone that you will never make happy no matter what. Or at least for a couple of minutes. Until you remembered how he said that you were boring. "I am really that boring?" You asked your self, completely lost in thought until you heard people yelling at someone to get out of the way. And realizing that that person was you but not being able to do anything because it was already too late was the worst part. Hopefully, the person driving the car stopped before he could hit you in a way that you would just have died. Instead, it touched you. You fell to the ground anyway and felt pain on your right leg. The lady got out of the car immediately and ran to you say how sorry she was and you almost could see her eyes getting full of tears. "It was my fault, I didn't pay attention to where I was going. I'm sorry."

Haechan was going to run after you but he got the most unnecessary call from his manager that he ended up hanging up, but when he got out of the dorm there was no sign of you. How he was so stupid to answer that call at that moment. He just started running in a direction while calling you to your phone to find out where you were. Did you just break up with him? Was it over for you two already? No way. He regretted his words because you weren't boring at all, but there was no way to tell you that since he lost you. A few minutes after his heart stopped when he heard people screaming at someone to stop or to be careful. He wished that person it wasn't you. But he heard your voice screaming for a few seconds due to pain. There was a mini crowd of people in the sidewalk in which he pushed around until he saw you being carried by two men that were helping a lady getting you inside her car. His heart broke when he saw a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Y/N!" You heard him and couldn't help but to roll your eyes while you were being placed inside the car "I'm her boyfriend can I go with you?" He said to the lady totally desperate, and the lady felt pity for him so she said yes and he sat beside you in the backs it without touching your leg. You avoided his eyes at all cost but you knew he was glancing at you with the puppy eyes you loved and hated at the same time. "You're not boring, " he broke the silence. "Whatever, " still avoiding his eyes. "Stop looking at me, "

"No, you're gorgeous."

"I hate you, "

"And I love you so forgive me, "

"Whatever, " you said but finally looked at him and laughed a little, seeing him feeling relieved.

JAEMIN

"Can't understand how you got to debut." His voice was audible as soon as the music on your phone stopped. You turn around to see him standing on the door arms crossed, and you can't help but look somewhere else to hide the fact that those words were actually hurtful. But you couldn't show him that to him, right? "Look who's talking," you didn't know where the strength to respond back came from. "There were actually a lot of other girls that could have debuted in your place, guess they wasted the spot completely." You laugh ironically, knowing that it was true. You spent hours and hours practicing you singing and dancing because you knew you were there for your looks. But looks don't give you talent. No matter how beautiful you are, you have to work hard to get the skills you lack, and that's what you were doing for longer than your schedule had planned for you. In that case, hearing say something you already knew was hurtful, and more when you knew what he was doing there. "It's enough, Jaemin."

"Don't like the truth?"

"Stop,"

"Can't hear fac—"

"Just because you're in love with me and we cant be with each other doesn't mean you have hurtful towards me. You're not the only one that got a broken heart so please leave so I can fucking practice." And without another word you olay the song again and start to practice harder. Three hours later, you let yourself fall on the floor panting hard, feeling how every single muscle from your body was hard to move. You couldn't. The tiredness was extreme, and you couldn't remember if you had taken water while sweating for all that time. Did you have lunch? You can't remember. Your eyes were barely able to look at the ceiling due to the lights hurting your eyes. And slowly your eyes get closed until you lost consciousness of your surroundings.

He couldn't really focus on the recording they were doing, his mind only was thinking about you and how he really got over the line while trying to push you away and forget about how much he liked you. As soon as he finished, he went back to the dance room where he saw you lying on the floor with your eyes closed, and panicked washed all of his face. He quickly threw himself on the floor beside you and held your face while calling your name softly. For his luck, they opened. But they looked so tired that he regretted more than ever saying that before.

"Are you okay? Did you faint? I'm sorry. For what I said, this is just difficult for me. I can't control my words lately and… "

"Everything was dizzy," you ignored the other things he said after you promised yourself not to talk about what you two went through a little while ago. " I was really dizzy. So I laid down and next thing I know you're grabbing my face like this." He noticed he was holding your face with both hands, but doesn't think about taking them away. He did not want to.

"Do you want something? Anything I can get from you?" He was nervous to see you so worn out. after all. He liked you.

"Just call my manager, tell her to please take me home. Even though I'm not supposed to be here right now."

"Anything else?" He nods and shifts his eyes all over your face, remembering why he loved it so much.

"And stop talking with me… we can't be doing this and you know it."

"I know,"

CHENLE

Your eyes were fixed on the broken piece on the floor, not believe what happened. You didn't want to stumble and end up breaking something that looked so expensive. It was a simple vase, but it looked like it was worth more than your entire life and you wanted nothing more than disappear in the thin air. As soon as Chenle heard the loud sound of glass breaking, he ran outside his house. You were supposed to just go for a glass of water, nothing else. Your heart was beating fast, and tears started to roll down your cheeks and when you saw Chenle with his mouth wide open. "I'm sorry It was not my intention to break this I—”

" What did you just do?" He yelled at your figure crouched on the floor.

“I—it was no—” you wanted to say in between sobs, but he was not listening to you. All he could hear was his parents scolding him for breaking that.

"You just went for water, you can't even do that right?” his words echoed inside your head, and it just felt like a vivid Deja Vu. It wasn't, but the words were similar to your parents telling you that all the time. You had found comfort when Chenle appeared in your life as the first person that was proud of you for anything that you had put your effort into. And then he left you alone like your parents have done your entire life. The tears didn't stop falling even if you tried to calm yourself down. You opted for at least pile all the pieces of glasses together while thinking about looking for broom at least. But you didn't know if he wanted you to throw it away or leave there. Either way, you piled them. "Ah, ” you whined when you felt a piece of glass piercing your hand. " everyone is right, I can't do anything right.” you decided to ignore it and finish to pile it up until you see that the cut in your hand was bleeding more than normal. In the end, it wasn't that deep, but it was bleeding a lot. You thanked God that the floor was not covered by a carpet, because it was dripping. "Aish, " you said a little bit loud for your liking and tried to cover your hand from dripping more with your other hand while ran you went to the bathroom. Chenle was looking for a broom to clean the mess you did while frowning and thinking what his parents were going to do and pissed with you for causing him trouble, obviously until he saw the blood on the floor, and knowing that it wasn't his he panicked.

There was something that worried him more than his parents taking off all his privileges and scolding him, and it was seeing you hurt and crying in the bathroom. He saw how you had your hand close to your eyes so you could see if there was a piece of glass, and then putting pressure on it so It could stop bleeding. The anger was forgotten at that point, and then he regretted yelling at you. Just seeing you so broken was enough to do that. He silently walked to you and carefully grabbed your wrist to take a look at the cut.

He pulled you to the toilet and sat you there while looking everywhere in the bathroom for the first aid kit. He crouched in front of you and with a cotton he started to clean your wound as carefully as he could, and from time to his eyes went to your face. Your look was lowered, and the almost dry tears were visible to him.

You wanted to speak but knew that saying sorry was not fixing the expensive vase. "It's okay, ” he said sweetly. " my parents have enough money to buy 10 of the same vase. They should just do that." He tried to joke, but your expression was the same. You felt sorry and there was anything that could be done. you couldn't pay it back. "Look at me, " he ordered, still sweet. You did so. "It's okay, "

"Your words said a different thing earlier."

"But they were not true, I was shocked."

"I'm sorry." You felt your tears watering again.

"Give me a kiss and it will be good, okay?" You smiled at his cheesiness.

JISUNG

"Leave me alone, Jisung." You said as you walked quickly through the hall with your books in hand. You were going to be late for your other class since someone wanted to pester you and finding a reason to stand in your way. You couldn't say be was bullying you, he just liked to bother you and make you pissed for no reason, and you hated him for that. Even though he was the cutest boy you've ever met. At some point, you thought he liked you the same way you liked him, you how they say that if a boy bothers you it means that he likes you. He bothered you but made clear he would like anyone but you. It was hurtful at first, but you got over that. "Why should I?

" Gosh, you need me at school if not you would have nothing else to do, right?" You stopped abruptly and he did the same, following you with a cheeky smile. "Don't flatter yourself, Y/N. You could disappear and no one will notice. Or at least I wouldn't." Your heart skipped a beat, and not for a good reason. You have thought that before, but hearing a person actually saying that to you struck your heart so suddenly that all you could do was look somewhere else and continue walking.

Next day you didn't show up at school, and his lie fell right down on him. When he walked through the hallway and didn't see your figure in your locker, he frowned and asked himself why you weren't there. He knew you had math first period and walked past the classroom but didn't see you there. And for some reason, he started to worry.

At recess, he saw your group of friends at their table and decided to go and ask. "Excuse me, I'm sorry for interrupting but do you know where's Y/N?" They all looked at each other with a worried look, remembering why you were at school today.

"She's in the hospital."

His world crashed down. Or at least that's what he felt. "Why?"

"We don't know yet, her mother just told us that."

After that, he was anxious all day. The hours were slow, each period seeming longer than they have ever been, and when the last class ended, his body jumped from his seat and the first person to leave school was him.

You opened your eyes to see the doctor beside you writing something while speaking to your mom at the same time. "She must wake up anytime so— oh, look who's awake."

"Sweetie, my love, " your mom called your name. "What have I told you about skipping meals? You should eat more, and sleep more, and do what humans beings need to survive

"I forget, " you said as you could, and smiled when your mom kissed your forehead. The doctor helped you sit down on the bed and gave you a glass of water.

"Also, why you never told me you had a boyfriend? I thought you trusted me."

"I don't have one, mom."

"Then who's the nervous boy sitting outside? He's genuinely worried about you." You got more confused as she was talking. What boy? "I will let him in, he's really cute. You would look good together." She started to go to the door, told the boy to enter and just left. "Who is the mother here, her or is it me?" You were saying until his face appeared in sight. "Wh—what are you doing here?"

"You weren't at school." He seemed hesitant. He was standing in the door and didn't know what to do or say. Until he finally got the courage to walk slowly to you, who was still confused." How are you feeling?"

"What do you want, Jisung? Weren't you the one that told me that if I disappear you wouldn't even notice?"

"Don't disappear." He said to the speed of light, so fast that you were shocked. "Never."

"Do you need someone to bother so bad? Get a girlfriend, you're already annoying anyway."

"It's true. I would bother you if you were my girlfriend anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"That I like you. And that somebody needs to check that you are eating well all the time." You've never hard him be this straight forward for all your high school years. He bothered you, and most off the time it was silently. Now that he was saying that to you, you didn't know what to do more than just stare at his eyes, figuring out if it was a joke. But he would travel from school to here just for a simple stupid joke. "I know I've gotten you to hate me all these years but it's because I never had the nerves to tell you that. But you had to get me all anxious and worried for me to actually tell you. And I realized that I have try my best to win your heart."

"It will not be that hard, actually." You murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's see what happens."

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

443 notes · View notes

babieyangyang10 · 4 years

Text

violent ends (chapter 12)

(chapter 12)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairings: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: lots of kissing, mentions of killing, description of injuries

previous | next

Athena's POV

It took a while for Jisung's quiet sniffles to fade the night of Chenle's death. By the time Mark and I had made our way back, Jaemin and Jisung had found out the news after they saw his face among the dead in the sky. Honestly, it was almost easier for Jisung to find out that way. I know Mark was in too much pain to tell him. As for me, I don't know how I could bare to look him in those innocent eyes and tell him either. As expected, he took it pretty hard. I mean, he was his best friend. He literally cried so much, that he eventually became exhausted and fell asleep.

I took the first watch, since Mark looked like he needed rest as well. The only other person who was still up was Na Jaemin.

"What are you thinking about?" Just like when we were alone in the first days, his head was resting on my lap.

"Jeno, Renjun, and the District 5 girl are the only ones left other than us." I point out.

Focusing on the positives, he replies, "Okay, well I'm guessing they'll go after her for us, since she's alone. Hopefully, they'll kill each-other. If not, we'll do it."

My voice was in a small whisper, "And then?"

He's silent.

I know District 2 is watching me right now. The same district that attachment is only necessary when it pertains to something you need. Once you have gotten what you've needed, you have to detach yourself. Almost like how a leech sucks enough blood until their fulfilled, then falls off on their own free will.

These people have given me my fill. Mark and Jisung took Jaemin and I in, even after Jaemin was injured. However, now we are both healthy as can be. As they sleep in front of me, what is stopping us from running away or even just killing them? Friends. Something I never had before. I never understood it until now. How it means that even though I'm full, I feel obligated to them too. To give just as much as they gave me.

But they are right. This is what they warned us about. This obligation will keep me captive. Let's say that we do all make it to the end together. Even so, the games will continue until a single victor. It happens every time.

The longest was the 25th games, it lasted for a total of twenty-seven days. This year the Districts had chosen the children of their mayors. Because of growing up wealthy and sheltered, none of the kids knew anything about fighting.

So they didn't. Half of them were wiped out by vicious mutations on the third day, then eventually others by starvation. However, the Gamemakers had a twist this year. Instead of the parachutes sending things to help and aid you, they sent down things like tracker jackers and acidic rain. No longer did the tributes have to survive eachother, but instead the sponsors.

Three weeks later, only two managed to do this: a brother and sister from District 9. Hopeless and broken, they decided to draw straws to see who would survive and win. The brother ended up getting the short one and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek before she stabbed him to death.

This just proves no matter how much you care for the other survivors, the Capitol won't give up until you kill the other.

The long silence was interrupted, "You know you're my priority. Ever since the beginning, only you."

"You know what I'm saying, what I'll do if I need to." Jaemin whispers sincerely, "I know you wouldn't like it, but we promised it would be me and you in the end, right?"

I knew exactly what he was alluding to. It doesn't matter if it's Mark or Jisung, he would kill anyone so we'd survive.

"I know." I speak even through the lump in my throat. There's no point in pretending or acting like things could never possibly come to that. I mean, it's not like the games are a place where you make friends.

Jaemin is sensitive to my discomfort, "Hopefully, it won't come to that, okay?"

All I could do was respond with a nod. Let's hope it doesn't.

It's almost natural the way I once again played with his hair to calm down. I noticed that since we've been separated, time had caused his nearly-black roots to appear, fading nicely into the frosty blonde. His eyes were more sunken in and tired, but still held the same old light as he peered up at me with interest, "You really have no shame, Athena."

"What do you mean?" I tease, playing innocent like I wasn't obviously checking out the beautiful boy just seconds earlier.

Then, in a burst of affection, the boy literally almost tackles me. My elbows brace myself up on the ground, as he leans over me. Alarmed, I turn my head to see the boys fast asleep, a good distance away.

When I look back at Jaemin, I feel my head start to buzz. It's seems like so long since I've been this close to someone. A someone who is somewhere far away in this arena. Someone, who in was in this same position with the night before I came here. In a soft voice, Jaemin's voice brings me back to the present, to him.

"Please."

Not long after I nod, I feel his lips softly brush over mine. Almost as if he's testing the waters. The kiss that follows is soft and delicate, yet brief. It's like I'm a piece of glass, that he is trying his best not to break. When, he backs away to see my reaction, I nearly chase after his lips. He just laughs to himself at the display of eagerness. I move back, so I'm entirely laying on the grass.

I try to be patient, not wanting to overstep our boundaries. However, when he looks down at me with absolute adoration, I didn't stop myself from grabbing his shirt with both my hands. Once I pulled him down into an bruising kiss, I could hear him let out a content sigh.

I get lost and entirely forget where I am. Instead of in an arena, it just feels like we're two young teenagers making out under the stars. It feels normal and completely right. Out of breath, he is now laying on top of me. My mouth is open in awe, while I marvel at the feeling. Relaxing, I could feel Jaemin smiling into my neck. Even in the dark, I know the cameras can see me also smiling like a fool to the sky.

After that, Jaemin decided to take his watch and let me sleep. It was the first peaceful sleep I have had until forever. That was, of course, until a young boy named Park Jisung ruined it.

"We need water!" Beside me was a knocked out, Jaemin. He was leaning against a tree, while my head was leaning against his shoulder.

"Okay, fine. Just shush." I was trying to be wary of Jaemin, who stayed up for both of our watches.

Grabbing my stuff, I say a brief goodbye to Mark. Jisung happily follows me like a little puppy, probably glad to finally get out of the camp again.

The fresh sun illuminates the water of the lake. Birds are singing good morning to one another. I hand my bag to Jisung, as I take out my bottle. The tiny fish quickly swim away as I fill Mark and I's bottles up with water.

I feel a tug on my leather jacket.

"Athena." Jisung was pale, looking behind me.

My head snapped around to automatically meet eyes with Lee Jeno. Across the lake, he had just arrived with Renjun.

I don't waste any time before grabbing Jisung and running into the woods behind me. However, we could only get a small distance before Jisung fell to the ground, clutching his bad leg, "I can't."

"You can. Come on." I tried to hold him up like I did during the forest fire. I could hear the two Careers just around the corner.

"I'll slow you down." Jisung begged, "You gotta go without me."

Not even having it, I grabbed him and sat him down behind a nearby bush. Since the bush was fairly small, I had to go to the only other one across the clearing.

"Let's split up." I hear nearby.

Through a gap in the branches, I see Lee Jeno come around the corner. My heart pounds with each of his steps. Jeno gets closer and closer the bush Jisung is hiding behind. I violently curse in my head as I realized Jisung was carrying my backpack with all of my weapons in it.

I guess we're gonna have to do this a different way.

I dart out of my bush and begin running in the opposite direction of camp. That way, Jisung could hopefully make it back undetected to get help.

I don't look back at all. I just keep running until I get back to the lake. Before I can change direction, I feel someone jump on me.

Crashing down, the side of my head collides with a large boulder. At first, it's completely numb and I'm able to push the tall boy off of me.

However, once I push myself up, I start to see black and fall back to the ground.

"Hey, I got her!" Jeno yelled out to Renjun.

"We've been looking for you, pretty girl." His arms have mine completely pinned to the dirt. The more I struggle against him, the more the white dots fill up my vision.

Renjun's POV

When I run towards Jeno's voice, I eventually found the two of them.

Jeno was holding the small girl. Lee Athena's face was as white as a sheet. Blood was pouring out of her head, falling in thick drops down the side of her face. I couldn't even tell if she was even conscious at this point.

She was completely limp as the boy sat her up on her knees, "Why don't you finish her off?"

"Look who came to join us." He cooed, grabbing her hair to make her look up at me.

Her half-lidded eyes recognized me right away. Although, there wasn't any signs of fear or sadness for what she knew was about to happen to her. She almost looked like she was challenging me. You wouldn't.

Would I?

"Do it." Jeno urged me. Her chin was tilted back by his hold on her hair, neck entirely on display. My hand was tightly wrapped around the familiar blade in my hands.

I tried to quickly come up with an excuse for my next actions in my head. I mean it would have to happen eventually. At least, it would be somewhat quick.

Then, I did it.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct au #nct #nct dream imagines #nct dream #renjun #jaemin #jeno #haechan #jisung

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boycottphil · 5 years

Note

Hello there, how are you? I saw your post where you offer to write hetalia fanfics and hmmm...I wonder if you could write some cute, fluff + smutty usuk fanfic? You can choose the theme, I'm not that picky, I just don't like omegaverse and mpreg that much lmao. If you're too busy or somehow can't, it's totally ok, I just thought of asking. Thanks for contributing to the community

For context, I am taking fanfic requests!

Pairing: UsUk Rating: M Warnings: Mention of drug usage!! Word count: 2760

The night was long, perhaps a bit too long for a single loner like Arthur. It was a rather boring Saturday of reading a new bestseller when Francis came barging into Arthur’s flat, absolutely insisting on taking him out to town for a bit of drinking and dancing. Apparently there was a new club with a 70s and 80s theme, playing all the best songs of the two decades. Francis was already dressed appropriately in fun colourful clothes, that seemed too over-the-top yet just right for the occasion.

[[MORE]]

Arthur struggled finding anything in his closet that would be good enough, and he had initially hoped to use the lack of an appropriate wardrobe to his advantage; that is, not going out of his flat. The book was just getting good and he desperately needed to-

But no. Francis came prepared with a funky coat and bright neon green pants that would “do Arthur’s ass justice,” to use Francis’s own words.

Arthur’s plan of staying in fell through, and an hour after Francis had shattered Arthur’s dreams of a quiet night, they were already in the club. It was packed full of people, all dancing, drinking and some doing suspiciously illegal-looking substances. Arthur averted his eyes from a group of young women chanting ‘molly’ repeatedly until one of their friends took the pill.

This was not Arthur’s scene. He was a man in his early 30s. He was already past his drug-crazed days. He didn’t exactly find joy in being numbed and dumbed down anymore. When he was in college, years ago, he would have perhaps walked up to the women or men and used his charm to get a couple pills before wooing one of them to go home with him.

Those times are over. He had a nine to five, he’s been through multiple year-long relationships and he’s more mature, and responsible and…

...awfully lonely and single.

Francis dragged him to the middle of the dance floor. The mass of sweaty and tightly-packed bodies grinding against each other coaxed Arthur to loosen up a bit. The music was fun, up-beat and had Arthur’s body moving in no time at all. Perhaps he had been a bit too judgemental of the party scene in the last few years. There was a lot more going on than he thought, not to mention, he spotted more than a few people looking at him with what seemed to be genuine interest.

One set of eyes in particular caught his attention from across the dance floor. Curious, bright blue, and wide from either adrenaline, some sort of drug, or maybe just plain alcohol. Frankly, Arthur struggled seeing much between the flashing lights straining his eyes and the music blastin loudly through the club’s many speakers and distracting him. The bit of eye contact did manage to make him feel just a little bit more confident. He had been a hermit in his own life for so long that he didn’t think he could attract the attention of anyone at all in his “old” age.

The stranger stepped closer, revealing a smile on slightly crooked lips and a brow quirked up in intrigue. Arthur turned away from Francis, who had been too busy flirting with a couple of young girls to notice his friend’s rather sudden departure.

The song changed, the previous one fading away softly as the second one melted seamlessly with upbeat drums into the room. The crowd slowed for mere seconds before the movement picked up yet again and Arthur was once more pulled into dance, as if involuntarily, by his feet. This time, though, he was accompanied by a tall and muscular man who couldn’t possibly be older than 25.

“Nice pants,” the stranger said, clearly an America. He had to lean in close to speak directly into Arthur’s ear in order to be heard at all

The Brit gave a laugh and shook his head before going on his tip toes and speaking into the other’s ear, “thanks, they were not my choice. But apparently they make my ass look good.”

He pulled back just enough to see the American’s eyes travel from his face down his neck, over his torso, to land and linger on his hips. Arthur smirked to himself and then, copying what many people had started doing, stepped closer and putting his arms boldly around the American’s neck, coaxing them both to start dancing in the rhythm of the catchy and rather fast-paced song.

They didn’t speak. Their interactions consisted of wandering hands and suggestive looks. Arthur did not know this stranger’s name, and neither did he want to tell his own just yet. He was happy with the way their legs moved in synch and their fingers lingered too long on each other’s hips and backs during the slower songs.

But before the Brit got too used to it, they had moved out of the centre of the dance floor and toward the wall in the back.

The music was just as loud as it had been on the dance floor, though merely a dull thump in Arthur’s mind, as his back soon touched the cool brick lined wall. His hands cupped two strong shoulders and his lips were covered by those of this gorgeous stranger. He did not mind the lack of air or the tightness of another body just a bit larger than his own pressing flush against him in a demanding manner.

“I want to take you home,” Arthur found himself saying, his hands sliding down the other’s arms until their kiss turned into their lips brushing against each other while they spoke.

“Good. I live too far from here to take you home,” the stranger said in a light tone, his eyes glinting with the red and purple flashing lights surrounding them.

Arthur nudged him off and then took his hand, his grip slick from sweat, and began leading him out of the club. He sent Francis a quick text saying he would be gone, and that he took someone home so he shouldn’t be disturbed. He got no answer, as he expected but a least that meant that Francis wasn’t out looking for him.

Arthur lived close to the club, so a short cab ride was quick and filled with “accidental” touches of thighs and knees. Arthur paid for their ride and then took the stranger’s hand, leading him up to his fourth floor flat. Were this man anyone but a hookup, he would say he wouldn’t need to take his shoes off… but…

Well he wanted everything off.

Without hesitation, he had the other pinned to a wall, lips kissing down his neck, hands working his coat off before he began unbuttoning his metallic blue shirt. His hands were working from memory of the other countless times he had had someone in a similar position. One button, another, then again, until his fingers brushed over smooth skin and coarse hairs that he could finally touch. He slid the shirt off the stranger’s body, and soon felt the cool touch of rough hands sliding up from his abdomen to his chest.

He gave a little gasp, parting his lips from the heated skin of the stranger’s neck. “Fuck,” he whispered, as two fingers pinched at one of his nipples.

“Someone likes this,” came the purr, making Arthur’s eyesopen.

The Brit snorted and slid his hands down to the hem of the American’s jeans. He easily popped the bottom open. He saw the American inhale sharply. “Someone likes this,” he smirked and slid his thumb down the zipper, pinching it and pulling it to expose the tented briefs underneath.

“Your accent’s so fucking hot,” the blond answered. Arthur rolled his eyes.

He pulled the other’s pants down past his hips, the American standing a bit too still for his liking. “Well? Are you going to keep undressing me or was that little nipple stunt all you could pull?” He asked as he nudged the other to make him step out of his jeans.

“I- oh.” The American snapped out of his trance. “So uh before… we go there.” Arthur laughed a bit at his stumbling and stammering. “What’s your name?”

Arthur didn’t answer right away and instead took his own shirt off and threw it aside. “Arthur,” he supplied, just as he saw the other open his mouth, most likely to fill in the silence.

“Oh, cool.” Another pause. “I’m Alfred.” Arthur gave a nod and then stepped back, took Alfred’s hand and began leading him toward the bedroom. The room itself was dark, lit only by the faint moonlight and the orange hue of a streetlight.

Alfred was stood at the foot of the bed, watching as Arthur took off the neon pants. Arthur saw as his gaze followed the fabric, lingering on his thighs and calves before looking back up into his eyes. The Brit winked at him before shamelessly taking off the briefs clinging to his skin.

He was immensely satisfied when Alfred’s tongue poked from between his lips and brushed quickly over his upper lip. The Brit crawled up onto his bed, on all fours, making sure the American had plenty to see as he did so.

The look of lust he was given once he laid down did wonders for his ego. “Alfred?” He asked, his eyes lingering on the briefs keeping him from what he wanted so badly.

“Yes?” The American asked, one hand reaching down to palm at his own crotch.

“How about you come here and fuck me?”

Alfred regained his composure enough to ditch his own briefs and join Arthur on the bed. He placed his hands on the Brit’s naked sides and slid them up and down before he leaned down to kiss at his lips feverishly.

Arthur was a whining mess even before the end of their short-lived makeout session, filled with swirling tongues and hot breaths. He tugged gently on Alfred’s hair and then reached down with his other hand to grasp at the American’s aching cock. He gave it a few pumps. “Well?”

“Lube? I don’t-” Alfred started, though Arthur interrupted,

“I have everything,” he mumbled and then reached into one of the bedside drawers to pull out a condom and a half empty bottle of lube. He handed both to Alfred, mumbling that he was fine. He didn’t need any stretching.

The American’s hands were a bit shaky as he tore open the packaging and rolled the rubber over his cock. Arthur could tell he was a bit not-in-his element, so he made it easier for him and rolled over onto his front, pulling himself up onto all fours. He pressed his chest to the mattress and spread his legs apart in the most slutty way he possibly could.

If the caught breath and sharp exhale were anything to go by, then he assumed Alfred liked the sight. And not too long after, Arthur felt cold lube drip over his exposed hole, seconds after which he felt the blunt tip of Alfred’s hot and hard cock teasing at the sensitive muscles. He moaned encouragingly as the other sank deeper and deeper inside him. He was in heaven, the moment he felt Alfred bottom out.

“Fuck, you’re big,” he mumbled, back arching, fingers tangling in the sheets below. He couldn’t wait for Alfred, so he began rocking back against Alfred’s cock, driving it deeper inside. He cursed under his breath, over and over again. Once Alfred began fucking into him, his voice pitched and his eyes rolled back briefly.

He perhaps assumed Alfred would be softer, slower, taking his time with Arthur and making sure the Brit was not hurt in the first few thrusts.

But no… Alfred did not hold back at all. He started bucking into him, grabbing his hips and angling himself properly so that every time he pushed in or pulled out, Arthur was arching his back and letting out gasps and grunts. His eyes were closed shut, his hips trembling and his every nerve ending feeling as if it were on fire.

Alfred was passionate, and despite fucking Arthur in a way that had his eyes rolling back, he still placed kisses on his neck and back, teeth grazing over his pulsepoint and making Arthur shiver.

The American pressed the Brit’s hips down, holding them there as he rammed into him, truly getting Arthur to scream out as his sweet spot was brushed against over, and over, and over again. He was forced to hump the mattress to get some relief for his own neglected and desperate cock. He was pent up, whining and moaning, eyes tearing up, his body shaking with his need to cum.

Alfred seemed to be no better off. His rhythm wavered and his hands squeezed down hard enough to leave bruises on Arthur’s hips. Not that the Brit would mind, he loved the thought of having bruises and bites and marks to remind him of the night he spent with the gorgeous blue-eyed-blond stranger.

The room was dim and full of noises; the bed shaking and rattling, both their grunts and moans bouncing off the walls. The Americana had mumbled a warning already, holding back just because Arthur wanted to enjoy the sensations some more with begs of ‘no, not yet’ and ‘more, more’ and ‘Alfred, fuck me harder.’

Though that was short-lived too, as at the height of the intensity, Alfred pushed himself in as deep as he could, and was thrown over the edge, the rubber catching all of his cum. Arthur was allowed to sit up, and was grateful to get to start stroking his own cock. Alfred, noticing he could be useful, leaned down and began eating the other out, his tongue proving to be talented enough to push Arthur over the edge.

The Brit gasped and panted through his orgasm, his thighs shaking with the intensity of it. He collapsed onto the bed and in his own puddle of cum. Alfred joined him, laying down beside him. The Brit sighed, satisfied. He turned his head to look at the other.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he said, tone playful.

Alfred laughed, a bright laugh that made Arthur’s lips curl up into a smile. “Yeah, that wasn’t bad at all.” He turned to look at Arthur and took in the sight of him; the way the orange light fell on his face, the shadow his roman nose cast on his lips, the way his strawberry blond hair fell over his forehead…

“You’re pretty, huh.” It wasn’t a question, Arthur noticed. Alfred was merely complimenting him. “I prefer handsome… You’re cute, though,” the Brit answered.

“I prefer sexy,” Alfred said playfully.

Arthur chuckled and then, deciding to throw his pride out the window, scooted closer to cuddle up to the other. He looked into his eyes, as if asking if that was all right. He got a smile as an answer, and an arm wrapped around him. They spent the next few minutes like that, the room now truly falling silent. They touched, like they had been doing all night, but instead of wandering hands and lusty grabs, it was sweet caresses and lasting glances.

Arthur had been lonely for so long, touch starved too. Alfred made those emotions wash away, becoming more akin to an almost forgotten memory. He wanted the feeling to last forever. He wanted to never have to be alone again. The warmth, the calmness of their breathing synching… It was all perfect. All amazing in ways he almost forgot were possible.

He fell asleep, rather fast for his own liking, but he couldn’t help it. He was comfortable, with a soft man holding him, and basking in post-orgasmic bliss. He wished he had stayed awake longer, maybe to talk with Alfred, see if they were a good match. See if there could be something… Maybe that thought wasn’t mutual, was his last thought before sleep took over.

The following morning, he woke up rather late, and was met with an empty bed. Just as disappointment began to settle in, he saw a cute baby blue note on the other pillow. The handwriting was hard to read and messy, but readable.

‘I had a lot of fun last night,

Call me ;)

-Alfred F. Jones’

Arthur was so happy; his late late night thoughts turned out to be false. He saved the number in his phone, and sent a quick text.

‘Hey, it’s Arthur. I had fun too. Want to meet for lunch?’

#usuk #mikakuonchi #hetalia #aph #aph england #aph america #aph france #arthur kirkland #alfred f jones #francis bonnefoy #ukus

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arzani-fuchsia · 7 years

Note

hey-hey, who's asking for prompts here? hi, darling

I’m back and since I read your prompt I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I love the idea of them braiding John’s hair... it’s so peaceful and soft

It’s set in my “the world in balance” verse but I think it’s understandable as a stand alone too.

Enjoy :)

Sunraysfiltered through the windows, a golden glow from the morning light. Somewhereout there, between the trees and grass, was James working. In a few weekswinter would come, but it wasn’t here yet. The last few crops had to be broughtin, as well as some remaining vegetables. Their cupboards were full, as theseason had enriched them with plenty. A good thing, considering the third partythat had recently entered their lives.

A smallsmile slipped over Thomas’ lips as he poured the hot water into the tea kettle.John was an enrichment to their lives. Yes, the start had been rough, and notall wounds were healed yet, figuratively as much as physically. But time was agood healer and since former captain and quartermaster shared a bed they smiledso much. They smiled and god, they were beautiful when they smiled.

Letting histhoughts drift lazily in the morning air, Thomas settled at the kitchen table.The tea warmed his fingers and his eyes drifted closed. He was content with hislife. After so many years of loss and tragedy he felt it in every bone thatthey had finally found peace. Not quite yet, not completely, but with John intheir house, he could see the finishing line.

A curseshook Thomas out of his daydreaming and he automatically sat a little straighter.Something clattered and then he heard a thump. Abandoning his tea, he swiftlymade his way to the guest room that was currently inhabited by John. Forgoingthe knocking, Thomas opened the door to find John sitting on the floor. A comblay forgotten an inch next to him. His black curls were a mess, half mussed up,half dangling in front of his beautiful face. As he entered he was met with afrustrated expression.

“Whathapp-?” Thomas tried to ask but was interrupted. John’s tone was sour.

“Can you getme some scissors?”

“What doyou need scissors for?” Thomas had an inkling but didn’t dare to think histhought through. He didn’t want to think his thought through.

“To get ridof those fucking curls!”

Of coursehe had to be right.

“No.”

“Wh-?” Thistime it was Thomas who interrupted John. He would not cut John’s beautifulhair. Not before he had a chance to run his hand through it and feel the softtexture for himself. Not before he could tug John’s head back by it, elicit amoan and kiss him thoroughly. Not before… not before something between themhappened, and Thomas knew that would need a little bit more time. Time, he waswilling to give. Time, he was willing to wait. But cutting John’s hair? Thatwas not a matter of time, it was a matter of never.

“I’m notexplaining to James why all of a sudden his lover’s gone bald.”

For amoment John just looked at him, then he shuddered and shook his head as to getrid of a mental image. “I didn’t say bald.”

Kneelingnext to the other man, Thomas picked up the comb and turned it in his hand. Itwas smooth, made out of dark oak, with long, wide teeth. Out of the edge of hiseyes he saw John fidgeting. Turning, Thomas gave the tool back softly. “Ialways thought you’re quite fond of your hair.”

The wordshung between them, filling the silence. Thomas couldn’t hinder himself fromsteeling appreciative glances while waiting for an answer. John was beautiful,and he couldn’t imagine the man without his long, dark curls.

A sighshifted the tension and with it John slumped down. Something akin to defeatfilled his eyes. It made Thomas want to wrap his arms around the younger man,cradle him and protect him from whatever was tearing inside of him. But herefrained from it. It wasn’t the right time. Not yet. Not yet…

“I am. Iwas. Can we just cut it?”

Ocean-blueeyes met Thomas’ from behind a veil of hair and cut through him like a sharpknife. The tumult in them felt like a storm trapped behind glass.

“If youtell me the reason why you want to cut it, I might remember where I’ve put thescissors.”

Silencefilled the room, again, before John answered sheepishly, almost vulnerably, “Ihurts…” All the while he had turned the comb in his hands. But only when helifted it halfway to his head, as if to demonstrate, and his face contorted inpain, Thomas understood.

John hadalmost died on their doorstep, the day he had appeared out of nowhere, withslashes all over his body. Not a word had left his mouth from where they camefrom or what had caused them, and by now Thomas had stopped asking. James had toldhim John didn’t speak about his past, but only until John had refused to speakabout what had happened to him, had Thomas really realized what that meant. Hecould live with it, did live with it. But anger boiled low in his bellywhenever he thought of the people who had done this to John. Who had cut himopen and then left him to die. He wanted to rip them apart and watch them bleedin turn.

Maybe itwas a good thing Thomas didn’t know who had hurt John. Maybe it was good he waskept from falling into the darkness that anger brought with it. He knew what itcould do to people. He had seen it in the endless stories about Captain Flintand Long John Silver. It was good both those people were dead.

It didn’tlessen the simple truth that John was in pain and couldn’t comb his own hair.

“Sit onyour bed,” Thomas said softly and plucked the comb back out of John’s hand. “Ican’t heal your wounds, but I can comb your hair.”

“It willjust muss up again,” John said weakly but did heave himself from the floor ontothe soft mattress of his bed. A low chuckle left Thomas’ throat, as he satbehind the man. His fingers itched to sink into the dark curls before him,swipe them away to kiss the soft flesh of John’s neck. Not yet, he toldhimself. He shifted an inch closer, though, and reveled in the body heat thatburned like fire on his skin. Parting the hair into two strands, he placed oneaside. His fingers run through the other one, to get rid of the worst knots.

“I canbraid it for you,” Thomas offered, while he worked on the curls. They were assoft as he had imagined them to be, yet full of knots and tangles. Obviously,John was an active sleeper, and who could blame him? Thomas knew of thenightmares that plagued James and he doubted John was spared either.

“Do youknow how to braid hair?” John asked reluctantly, doubt heavy in his voice. Itmade Thomas chuckle again. The man had a point.

“How hardcan it be?” he asked, placing the one half of John’s hair aside to reach forthe other and repeat the process of running his fingers through the curls. “Iwatched Miranda plenty of times while she got her hair done.”

“That wasover fifteen years ago,” John reminded, but leaned a little closer to Thomas,who took the movement as an agreement. It made him smile and he shifted to giveJohn more space. His back was heavy on Thomas’ chest, rising and falling intune with his breaths. It was an awkward way to brush hair, but Thomas wouldrather cut his arm off then made John move. It felt too peaceful, too perfectfor him to mind his aching arms, as he brushed and brushed the dark locks.After what felt forever but must only be ten to fifteen minutes the comb wentsmoothly through the curls, all knots erased.

They hadmostly been silent, and when Thomas put the comb aside he wondered if John hadfallen asleep. Not that he minded. It was a rather cute image. As if John hadread his mind, though, he dropped his head to his chest.

“I thoughtyou wanted to braid them,” he murmured, voice teasing, yet laced with contendtiredness. He hadn’t fallen asleep, but he was close. Winding a curl around hisfinger, Thomas tugged lightly and a sound from deep within rose from John’sthroat. It sent a sudden warmth to Thomas’ belly. If he wasn’t already in lovewith John Silver, he was definitely slowly falling for him.

“I thoughtyou doubted my skills.”

Thomas’voice was teasing, but the answer he got was lax and almost a whisper.

“Don’twanna stand up.”

And if thatwasn’t an invitation to move on Thomas didn’t know what. So he parted John’shair into three equal strands, as he had seen Miranda’s maid do hundreds oftimes. His knowledge ended here, however, and he just held the hair loosely,wondering how he was supposed to start. Considering different options, he justplaced some parts in the middle and wrapped the other loose strands around it.His hands, unused to the procedure, felt clumsy and several strands slipped offthe construction. Whatever he was doing, he wasn’t doing it right. But stoppingnow? John felt too warm and relaxed in front of him and Thomas was too selfishto let him go just yet. It was the first time since John had come here thatThomas could really touch him. He ached to touch him. Since the incident in thekitchen when he had cut his thump, it was all Thomas could think about.

“You okay?”John mumbled, and Thomas realized he had stopped doing… whatever he was doing.Smiling, he nodded, just to realize John couldn’t see him.

“Yes, Ijust don’t think this is the right way to braid hair,” he admitted, and Johnchuckled. His whole body vibrated against Thomas’ in a very pleasant, intimateway. Before he could find any words that wouldn’t betray him they heardfootsteps and a voice sounded through the walls.

“Thomas?John?”

“In here,”Thomas answered, and a moment later the door opened to reveal a sun-kissed,ginger-haired beauty. Well, at least that was what James was to Thomas. Theirown seafaring half-god. “Hello darling.”

James’ eyesswept over the picture in front of him. Thomas could see how he took in hisboth lovers, back to chest, in casual clothes, as neither one of them hadplanned to go out today. Someone lesser would have scowled, be jealous even, ormade a snark remark. James just smiled, and Thomas fell for him a little more.He hadn’t revealed yet what he felt for John, wanting to give them time ontheir own. But Thomas knew James wouldn’t mind the least. Actually Thomas wasquite sure James had an inkling, because he loved them both and Thomas loved him.Them. Love revealed a lot, because trust came easy when you loved.

“Hello,”James mused and closed the door behind him as he stepped in. Thomas watched himlean down to kiss John, a sight Thomas would never tire of. They lookedbeautiful together, as if the world had made them to be a pair and maybe theworld had. Without hesitation James repeated the intimacy with him, and Thomassavored the feeling of James’ lips on his own. Maybe the world had made Jamesand him to be a pair, too. Maybe the world was in balance when they were, allthree of them. “You look busy.”

Johnchuckled. “We look desperate.”

“Well,Thomas does,” James said and leaned closer to inspect the handiwork on John’shair. His smile stretched into a grin. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“A braid.”Thomas knew it didn’t look like it and he was not even surprised when Jamessnorted, holding the laughter back but failing.

“If yousquint.”

Johnsmacked James’ arm lightly as a response and a spark lit up the insides ofThomas’ body, igniting a fire. John defended him. Him! It shouldn’t feel asgood as it did. It shouldn’t, yet Thomas couldn’t stop craving the feeling. Hewanted more of it, wanted all of it.

“Don’t talkif you can’t do it better yourself,” John mocked but James didn’t rose to it.Instead he crawled next to Thomas on the bed and made himself comfortable. Histights brushed Thomas’ and to know all three of them were connected gave himgoose-bumps. Sea-green eyes caught his own, and the knowing smirk revealed morethan words could. James had realized what Thomas only started to grasp himself.

“I don’twant to disappoint you, but I actually can,” James stated, and lifted his handto undo whatever it was supposed to be Thomas had done. Before he destroyed theconstruct, however, he stopped mid-air and looked at Thomas. “You okay withit?”

BeforeThomas could answer, John snorted. “Do I have a say in it as well?”

The “no”was said simultaneously from both James and him, and Thomas erupted inlaughter. His hands found John’s hair and undid the first few tangled strands,as a permission for James to go on. Not that he wanted to stop touching John’shair, but he knew it was useless when it came to braiding. So he made room forJames to take over his position. From the side he watched James smooth out thecurls and then start from John’s temples. His fingers run smoothly over thescalp, beginning with little hair and using more with each careful step. Thomaswatched amazed.

“You haveto teach me,” he murmured, and James stopped at the words.

“I can.It’s actually not as hard. It’s like… tying a rope,” James said, which eliciteda huff from John.

“I hope myhair does not look like a rope, thank you very much.”

Thomas hadnever been much of a sailor himself, but he knew that the braid James hadmiraculously created was as far from a rope as a braid could be. In fact, itlooked stunning, because the hairdo accentuated John’s facial features. Hisblue eyes shone even brighter, without any hair hiding them. He was asea-angel, come to live in front of him. Thomas surely was blessed.

“Itdoesn’t,” he murmured as James placed the strands carefully into his hands. “Whatdo I have to do?”

Again,James shifted, until he sat behind Thomas, so he could move his hands with hisown. His voice was soft in his ear. “Get a little more of the loose hair andput the outer strand between the other two.” Thomas did, his hands stillclumsy, but James helped him. “Yes, like this. Now the other side, there yougo. Are you okay, John?” John hummed, and Thomas kept on, pleased he was makingprogress.

It didn’ttake long to finish the braid. James had done most of the work and it wasobvious where Thomas had started, because James’ work was much tidier than his.But it was a braid and when John looked into the mirror and didn’t complain,Thomas heart melted. John looked beautiful and parts of it was his doing. Hefelt strangely proud of himself.

“I thinkyou have to braid my hair tomorrow as well,” John grinned, his blue eyessparkling. Thomas knew there was nothing he would rather do.

Some months later

“What arethe flowers for?” James asked, the moment he spotted Thomas and John walk intothe house, a basket full of flowers in their hands. Their eyes sparkled withmischief and deep in his gut he knew they were up to no good. When John sat onhis lap, rubbing against him like a cat, he knew he was right.

“Surprise,”Thomas said, rounding the chair James was sitting in and sunk his hands intothe ginger mane. Swift fingers loosened the hairband and smoothed the strandsout. Something dawned on James, and he tried to stand up, but couldn’t becauseit would have meant throwing John on the floor and he wasn’t actually thatcruel.

“No,” hedemanded and immediately John pouted.

“Please?”

“No!”

“You’ll geta reward,” Thomas whispered into his ear the same moment John bit into hiscollarbone and a moan escaped James’ throat. It was hard to say no, when he wasoffered such a treat on a silver plate.

“Whatreward?” he asked huskily, and John chuckled, licking and kissing the spot hehad just bitten.

“We’re upfor suggestions,” John said and pressed his groin into James’. At that hiswillpower broke and his hands gripped John’s hips, thrusting up. A gutturalnoise reached his ear, filling him with fire. Not yet, however.

“Turnround. If I get a braid with flowers, you get one, too,” James mused andreached for a deep blue cornflower. It would suit John’s eyes. The rest couldcome later.

#silverflinthamilton #silverflint #hamiltonsilver #flinthamilton #ot3 #black sails #my writing #the world in balance #the world in balance verse #set somewhere in between a truly good man #shortly after the incident with the knife #alightabovethearbys

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