#a fraction of whats in my books of the au. i feel cursed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

galexystern · 1 year

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butterfly wings

chapter three; fall 1984

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/reader aka steddie/reader, steve/reader, eddie/reader

rating; T

warnings; fluff, angst, au - canon divergence, fucked up the timeline a bit, smoking weed, shotgunning smoke

word count; 3.8k

desc; eddie gives you a nice surprise, steve gets to know you better, and all three of you share some smoke.

read on ao3 / series masterlist

Winter comes and goes. In fact, the whole rest of the school year comes and goes in a flash. The summer comes in hot and heavy, and you suffer in the sweltering bookstore. You swear that you'll get another job next summer if they don't add air conditioning. You beach it up with Nina and Mark. You and your friends take a road trip into Illinois and hit Chicago hard. You attend the annual Taste of Chicago and explore the State of Illinois Center. You even manage to find a gay bar—Jesse goes wild under your and Hailey's supervision and Vickie's awkward flirting somehow nags her a girl's number. She gets embarrassed every time any of you bring it up, but you can each tell she's proud too.

Junior year sneaks up on you and hits you like a freight train. It doesn't even slow down, just pushes you into the deep end as soon as it starts. You try out for the fall play and drag Jesse into auditioning too. Surprise—he loves it (he's an English nerd like you, so you knew he would). The difficulty dial turns up on all your classes except math, which has never been your strong suit. While you're stuck a year behind everyone else, you're pleasantly surprised to find Eddie in your class.

"Well hello there, stranger," he says as you take the desk next to his.

"Hi!" You exclaim, happy to have a friend in the class.

Eddie laughs at your enthusiasm. "That's the most excitement I've seen for a math class in a long time."

"Oh, yeah," you say sarcastically. "I'm all about math. I dream of it at night."

"And here I am, a fool for dreaming about you instead." He winks and you blush madly. You set up your notebook and pencil perfectly, just for something to do instead. You hear Eddie chuckle and then there's a loud handclap from Mrs. Dolip, making everyone jump.

"If she's gonna do that every day, I'm gonna have a heart attack," Eddie whispers to you under his breath.

"Don't worry," you whisper back, "I know CPR."

You can feel his eyes on you and you know you're still blushing, but you also smirk, all the while watching your teacher write the first lesson on the board.

A week later, while Mrs. Dolip is blabbing on about equations, Eddie speaks out of the side of his mouth. "Have you thought about my Hellfire offer at all?"

You wince and shake your head minutely.

"Okay, angel. No sweat." Your breath hitches at the pet name. "Just keep it in the back of your mind for me." You nod and he lounges back in his desk.

Another week later, Eddie stops paying attention to the worksheet you two are supposed to be finishing and props his head on his hand. "You know, D&D is a lot more fun than this."

You give him a look. "Anything would be more fun than this." The page is full of fractions that keep drifting away from your eyes.

"Fair," he muses, "but D&D would be as fun as doing the school plays. I know you enjoy those."

"I do, but there are things I enjoy more, you know."

"Like what?"

"Reading. Fleetwood Mac. Cats. Taking a walk by the Seine."

"Paris, huh?" You nod. "But what about an alternate world where magic exists and fairies are spiteful and dragons terrorize villages and wizards command the elements?"

"Sounds a little dark for my tastes."

"You're the one who said Fleetwood Mac." He gives a cheeky smile. You roll your eyes and get back to work.

A month after that, just when you've forgotten about D&D, Eddie says after class one day, "You could be a princess, you know. Or a bard. Or a really good thief who always takes what they need but must leave something they want."

"What?"

He shrugs. "It's a curse. Balance is necessary."

You put your pile of books on your desk and turn to him. "Eddie, what are you doing?"

"A great question, milady." He beams. "I'm courting you."

"You're what?" You feel like you're choking on the words.

"To be my apprentice," he clarifies. "My successor."

"Oh." There's a faint sense of disappointment. "Well—"

"Before you say anything, just gimme some more time. I've got some tricks up my sleeve." He winks but there's a pleading in his voice. "Gimme a chance."

You study him, fingers adorned with silver rings constantly fidgeting at his sides, hair wavy and out of control, the same faded leather jacket he always wears shining in the florescent lights.

You sigh. "Okay."

He brightens considerably. "Really?"

"Yeah. Court me or whatever."

"That I can do, angel!" With that, he sprints out the door. You follow at a leisurely pace, not really sure what you're getting yourself into.

;

The next Steve-and-Nancy drama comes around, except this time, you're somehow in the middle of it. It was a crazy sequence of events that led up to it. It started at home.

"I'm going to the store. Do you need anything?" Nina had called from the foyer while putting on her shoes.

"Um," you'd uselessly shouted back while thinking. "We need Pop-Tarts and lemonade. Maybe also some Arnold Palmer's? And tampons please!"

"Check, check, and check," and then she was out the door.

About twenty minutes later, you heard a honk from outside—your sister's way of telling you she's back and to come help with the groceries. You slipped on some boots and grabbed the first heavy jacket you felt in your closet, since a chill had set in recently. You walked out the door, down the stairs, and to the car. Nina had the trunk open and you pulled out one of the bags. You started walking back to the building, not paying enough attention evidently, because you ran into someone halfway through the parking lot.

As if in slow motion, the bag broke open and things went flying. Nothing broke but it was almost worse what actually happened: a box hit the ground with abnormal force and sprang open, propelling tampons into the air. You looked at the person you bumped into through the spray and were mortified to find Steve Harrington staring back at you with a smirk.

Worse still, when the tampons had fallen back to the ground and rolled around on the pavement, Steve reached out and pinched the jacket you were wearing. "I wonder where I've seen this before," he teased.

You looked down and sure enough, you were wearing Steve's letterman jacket.

You just froze, staring at nothing with wide eyes, sure that this whole situation could not get worse. And yet, it did.

"Steve!" Nina said happily, joining the two of you. "Where have you been?"

"Hi, Nina. Just around. At school, practice," he answered cordially, still looking at you with mirth in his eyes.

"We've missed you. You have to come for dinner. What are you doing tonight?"

"Absolutely nothing," and you could hear the cheekiness oozing from the words. "I'd be honored to join."

"Great!" With that, she just walked away and disappeared into the building.

"Oh my god," you breathed, and Steve finally burst into laughter. "Oh my god," you repeated, moaning this time.

"Your face! It was priceless!" There were tears in his eyes. "That was the best thing I've seen in a long time."

That piqued your interest, but it could be examined later. You had to survive this mortification. "I'm so sorry," you said, "I'm so sorry!" You dropped the broken bag, scattering more items, as you rushed to pull off his jacket. "I forgot!"

Steve's hands darted out and stopped yours from moving. You looked up at him. He was smiling. "There's nothing to apologize for, beautiful. You don't have to take it off now. It's cold out here." He dragged it back over your shoulders and you had to hold in a shiver. "I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I made you strip out here."

Your eyes widened and he laughed again. In an effort to draw attention elsewhere, you dropped to the ground and started collecting the tampons and other stuff. Steve joined you. You tried to use the bag but it was useless. Without any other option, you took the tampons and shoved them in the pockets of the jacket, making him laugh again, louder this time. You laughed too, seeing the ridiculousness in it all. All you and Steve could do was laugh for a minute, just crouching in the middle of the parking lot.

As the giggles faded and breathing evened, you started picking up the other things. "Here," Steve said, and held out his shirt, making a kind of basket. You giggled again as you piled items into the makeshift pouch, until everything was off the ground. You two stood and both supported the weight of his shirt.

"I never imagined I would kind of understand what it's like to be pregnant," Steve joked, and it took a lot of effort not to become completely useless due to laughter.

You both got inside and helped put away the groceries. You were thankful Nina had already started cooking and didn't seem to notice how you'd carried the items inside. As soon as everything was away, Nina was directing you and Steve to help prepare and dinner got underway.

A few hours later, after you'd finished eating and cleaning up the table, you and Steve escaped to your room. "Here," you said sheepishly, handing him his letterman jacket. He took it with a grin and laid it on the back of your desk chair. You sat on your bed while he examined your room.

He looked at your collection of manatees. "Each one is from a new city we've moved to," you explained.

"There's so many." Steve sounded both awed and a little sad.

"Yeah, we've been a lot of places."

"Why?"

"Nina and I are army brats. Dad was moved from base to base a lot. It was cool to see the world, but making friends was always hard." You breathed deep. "They died a couple years ago. Car crash. Can you believe it? Dad was in the fucking military and a random accident is what officially takes them away?"

"I'm sorry." His voice was gentle and soft and kind.

You forced your voice to stop wobbling. "Anyway, Nina got custody. We've moved a couple times so she could find a good enough job to take care of us both. But her job at the hospital here is really nice. She likes it a lot. And it feels pretty stable."

"Where's the one for here?"

"We haven't been able to find one yet. We do have to get it local and for some reason, Hawkins just doesn't sell manatee merchandise." Steve looked back at you and matched your grin.

"What's your favorite one?"

You stood and moved to join him. You picked out a small, delicate manatee. "This one's from Hawaii. We weren't there for very long, but we found this at a tiny shop in Maui. Hand-carved and hand-painted."

"It's beautiful." But Steve was still staring at you.

"Thanks," you whispered, face heating. Realizing your position, you cleared your throat and stepped away. "So, um, how's Nancy?"

It was like being doused in cold water. Steve's expression hardened, though he carefully returned the manatee to its rightful place before stalking away. "It's fine."

"Sounds like it." You said it simply, but it broke through. Steve sighed and perched on the end of your bed. You sat next to him. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even really know what's wrong," he started, sounding confused and lonely. "This past year was great. I thought we were past all the stuff from last year. But...it feels different. Feels like something's off."

"Have you asked her about it?" He shook his head. "Might be a good place to start. Communication is key."

His lip quirked up. "Maybe." There was silence for a few minutes. You were just about to touch his hand when he sprang up from the bed. "So what are you doing for Halloween?"

Shocked by the sudden topic change, you stammered, "Um, something with my friends? Like...horror movie night? Maybe?"

Steve nodded seriously. "Are you dressing up?"

"I'm not sure. I have an idea but there's not really anywhere to wear it."

He lit up. "Come to the party! Tina's party! Nancy and I will be there. And you can bring your friends."

"Are you sure?" Your brow furrowed.

"Totally! It'll be fun. Here," he grabbed a pen and scribbled something onto a piece of paper on your desk, "that's her address. Easy to get to from here!"

"Um...okay—"

"Great!" He beamed. "Well, I gotta go! Those essays won't write themselves!" With that, he awkwardly dashed from the room, grabbing his jacket in the process.

"Bye, I guess," you said to the empty room, completely bewildered.

;

And that's how you're here, at Tina's Halloween party.

"Are you sure we're invited?" Vickie asks nervously.

"Duh!" Jesse replies, already dancing to the beat, "Steve invited us personally."

You shrug, feeling a little helpless. "He did."

"So let's have some fun!" Hailey yells. She grabs Jesse's hand and they plunge into the crowd, immediately heading for the dance floor. You look at Vickie, who looks right back at you.

"Drinks?" You offer.

"Drinks." She confirms.

So you two also head into the fray, in the opposite direction, eventually finding a communal punch bowl that must have six different kinds of alcohol in it for how pungent it smells. You and Vickie ladle some into cups and try it.

"That's nasty," Vickie coughs. You agree. You both keep drinking.

"Hey, you made it!" You hear Steve before he appears, dressed like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. He stops short when he sees you fully. "Whoa."

You look down self-consciously. "Does it look okay?"

"You look sick!" He exclaims. "Not sick like ill, but like super cool. Carrie is such a good choice. Who did the blood?"

"Jesse, Hailey, and I took turns," Vickie answers, and Steve grins.

"Looks awesome!"

"Thanks, Steve." You try not to blush. "Hi, Nancy," you add when you see the girl appear next to him.

She smiles—well, more like grimaces—in greeting before taking a cup and dipping it right into the punch bowl. You and Vickie exchange a side glance, but Steve just follows her lead. "Let's dance," she shouts to him. He gives her a thumbs-up and waves at you and Vickie before disappearing into the crowd.

"Something's not right there," Vickie says to you. You already knew that, but you didn't want to see it right in front of you either.

"I'm gonna get some air," you tell her. She nods and you weave through the people, finally finding the doors leading to the deck and backyard. When they slide open, the cool air is a relief on your hot skin, and you breathe deep in relief.

"Didn't expect to see you here, princess."

You jump at the voice and turn to see Eddie leaning against the side of the deck, surrounded by a cloud of smoke. "Jesus Christ," you choke out.

"I gotta stop scaring you, angel, or I'm gonna have to give you CPR. And I'm not certified." You half-smile, heart still racing. Seeming to sense that, Eddie motions to you. "Come sit down. Get your breath back."

You do as he recommends and sit in the chair next to him. Good thing it's metal, otherwise the fake blood you're wearing would soak in.

"You look great, by the way," Eddie appraises. "Superb fake blood placement. Very authentic."

You smile in thanks, still calming down. "What're you doing here?" You ask when you feel you can.

He holds up a metal lunchbox. "You don't know I'm the local dealer?"

You shake your head. It's news to you, but not altogether surprising. You tell him as much.

He chuckles. "I'm guessing you're not out here to buy?"

"No. Just to get some fresh air."

"Well, shit." He starts to wave away the smoke from his almost-spent joint. "Sorry, princess."

You wave a hand. "It's fine. Actually..." Eddie raises an eyebrow in interest. "I'd be down. To partake. If I can."

"Course you can," he says with a wicked grin. He pulls a fresh joint from behind his ear. "And for you, pretty lady, it's on the house." You go to grab it, but he brings it out of reach again. "But only if we can share."

You nod eagerly and Eddie claps his hands together. "Excellent." He drags a chair over and sits next to you. He hands you the joint and you put it between your lips. Expecting for him to hand you the lighter, you're startled when he leans forward instead, flicking on the flame and lighting it for you. As you inhale, the burning embers set his face aglow a little. He's very pretty.

You finally exhale, releasing the smoke into the air. "Well done, angel," he says, impressed. You shrug nonchalantly as he takes his drag. When he exhales, he creates little rings out of the smoke.

"Whoa! Can you teach me to do that?" You ask excitedly.

He laughs. "Of course."

A little while later, first joint gone and second started, you're just about getting the hang of smoke rings when the door slams open. You and Eddie both turn your heads quickly to see Steve in the doorway, breathing heavily.

"Steve?" You say hesitantly. He looks at you. He has devastation written all over his face. "What's wrong?"

"Can I get a hit?" He asks, ignoring your question.

Eddie hands the joint over without argument, clearly seeing what you're seeing. Steve takes a long drag before exhaling loudly, relaxing as he does. He collapses in the chair near you and Eddie.

"It's over."

"What's over?" You ask.

"Me and Nancy."

Eddie sucks in through his teeth. "That sucks, man."

"Steve, I'm so sorry."

"She called me 'bullshit'," he spits out. "Called our whole relationship 'bullshit'." His tone turns sad. "Said she doesn't love me anymore."

You feel terrible for him. "Steve, you're not bullshit."

"Apparently I am." He inhales from the joint again.

You pluck the joint away, take a quick drag, and hand it to Eddie. Placing a hand on Steve's, you order gently, "Steve, look at me." He swings his head to you sadly, eyes heavy. "You are not bullshit." He scoffs but you interrupt. "Steve." He shuts his mouth. "You are not. bullshit."

Steve gazes at you, then directs his attention to Eddie. "She's right, man," Eddie confirms. Steve looks back at you. You give him a small smile, which he eventually returns.

Temporarily resolved, you turn to Eddie and motion for the joint. You suck in greedily, inhaling quickly. You hold it in for a few seconds, and then release it—finally making a correct smoke ring.

"You did it!" Eddie yells.

"I did it!" You echo.

"Great job, beautiful," Steve commends, and you smile angelically at both of them. You give Steve the joint, who takes a drag and hands it to Eddie. "You guys ever shotgunned?" He asks once he's exhaled.

"Obviously," Eddie answers with contempt, but you're confused. "Like a beer?"

"No, smoke," Steve clarifies. You shake your head.

"You don't know how to shotgun, princess? Well, we gotta remedy that," Eddie continues.

Steve explains. "It's when you blow the smoke into another person's mouth."

You're having trouble trying to picture it, and Eddie senses it. "Here, Harrington and I will demonstrate." It feels like a challenge.

One that Steve is up for. "Let's do it, Munson."

They both stand and step in close to each other. They're about the same height—Steve's just the tiniest bit taller—but their mouths are pretty level. Eddie takes a drag, lets it sit, and then lines up his lips with Steve. He exhales the smoke directly into Steve's mouth, who inhales it deeply. They're centimeters from kissing. It makes you squirm a little.

"Nicely done, Harrington," Eddie says, impressed.

Steve does a little bow, making Eddie laugh unexpectedly. You try to hide a smile. Then they both look at you.

"Your turn, beautiful," Steve says.

"Okay." Your voice is a little small.

"You wanna do it?" Steve asks Eddie, but he shakes his head. "All yours, dude."

Steve sits back down and scoots closer to you. He looks deep into your eyes. "Okay, come close." You do so and your body heats up in the proximity. "I'm gonna do it. You just hold those pretty lips open, okay?" You nod, trembling a little. Steve takes a drag, holds it, and then leans in even closer. You can practically feel his mouth on yours. You're almost unprepared for the smoke as it comes billowing towards you, but you inhale as you're supposed to. Steve stays close for a few seconds, the eye contact too intense to break, until you accidentally puff out the smoke into his face. He leans back and coughs.

"Sorry!" You exclaim.

"It's alright," Steve answers with a smile. "No harm done."

"You wanna try, angel?" You turn to Eddie and nod. Steve hands you the joint as Eddie comes close this time. You inhale, letting the smoke roll around in your mouth, and then lean in and blow it into Eddie's waiting lips. He inhales it greedily and there feels like electricity between you as he doesn't break his gaze. You can't seem to close your mouth. The moment only ends when Eddie turns his head up and releases the smoke into the night sky.

He looks back down at you. "Good girl," he murmurs, and you feel like you could die.

You collapse backwards, exhausted from the tension.

"How was that?" Steve asks.

"Great," you answer dreamily, and he smiles.

"We're honored we could pop your cherry, princess," Eddie adds cheekily.

You shiver—and then keep shivering.

"Oh, beautiful, you're cold," Steve points out. You don't feel cold; you actually feel hot, from being so close to both of them, and seeing them so close to each other. But there are goosebumps on your skin and you can feel your teeth start to chatter. "Let's get you inside."

All three of you stand and move towards the door. Eddie opens it and lets you and Steve step inside before following and shutting it behind him. You already feel better.

Vickie comes rushing up to you. "We gotta go. It's almost my curfew." She takes your hand and pulls.

You turn back to catch glimpses of those beautiful boys. "Thank you!" You call out, hoping they hear you.

chapter four

#steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mine

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the-silver-peahen-residence · 1 year

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||Horror book Chapter 7: Dead scars||

*Waving* Hi dears, I'm back with another part to horror book chapter 7 so it's time for another one. So, lets see what this chapter presents. If you wish to read the others so far, chapter list is down below.

~~Book chapters~~

Horror book one: Bloody game of Hide and seek

Horror book two: Darkness of one self

Horror book three: How to Be Evil: Scared Straight Beyond Prank Part 1

Horror book three: How to be Evil: Scared Straight Beyond Prank part 2

Horror book four: Hunting grounds

Horror book five: Hacker Kidnapping part1 part 2 part 3(final)

Horror book six: plucking a butterfly's wings

((Your reading horror book chapter 7))

||Warning||

~Will have mentions of flashback in this drabble

~Blood will be seen in this along with gore too

~Scary themes will be also seen as well

~Triggering moments will be present

~Dark themed is will be spoken of in this drabble

||Drabble Summary||

Ink has been worried about her friends after the recent nights regarding Sukuna's games. They were left in terror, fear, and worry not knowing when he will have another game. So, that's when she was visited by him that one night in her dreams to speak to her. Now what could he want? Read to find out.

Van Ink the dragon belong to my friend @demon-blood-youths

Sukuna ryomen (Demon au) belongs to me but comes from the anime jujutsu kaisen.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble. It was written for fun so please understand. Thanks for that and hope you like.))

Ink has been taking the time to rest up after the recent events or during the moments of Sukuna visiting the fractions of NYC. She's been worried and really nervous, even her teammates were as well. After the recent events happening, who could blame them?

From playing a few of his games, to the female leaders being treated like toys for him. Taken one of the vixen's teammate after making a deal with him to bring one of her own teammates back to life, seeing Ashley being killed in front of them and brought back, even being sent to a darker world where they were all nothing but dark versions of themselves. She gets the feeling he had part of that but she didn't wanna think about it.

"......" She was sitting tried even with her always trying to stay positive during these times, it was hard to do that. Even when seeing just how bad things have gotten. It almost reminds her of the first time she and Sukuna met. Even when finding out he became a demon after their...recent final battle. She knew what he was like, she knew it and it still hurts somewhat. Even deep down, it almost still left scars within her own pride.

From the curse he left on her back,

To the feedings..the games.

All those old memories made her shudder in disgust. And yet, it was to keep her friends safe but that was way back. The curse was lifted from her and he's left her alone since...till now. It almost made her angry but she sighed to grip her pants while sitting in her room looking down. Even now..she's been having trouble with sleeping even more and with another speaking to her just as before.

"......." with a sigh, she runs her fingers through her own black hair and closes her eyes before opening them. Her grey eyes were empty looking a little. "I just need to try and sleep. This is getting out of hand but I need to find a way to beat Sukuna at his own game. He can't keep doing this even if he's a demon now.." she knew he was still in the demon world and only visits if he wished but that still worried her because she didn't know who would be his next target to 'play' with him. For now, she hopes it's no one else for a while. Not after the last game they played.

"..Come on Ink, just sleep. You just need to sleep." she whispered to lay down on the bed on the side seeing the sun out so at least today was nice. Right? Seeing that, she goes ahead to slowly close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

Even when she just dozed off, someone else seems to have see and found her. As she sleeps, it's almost like a pair of hands were around Ink's head as she sleeps to keep her in a deep sleep.

~~~~~Ink's dream~~~~~~

Ink was looking around confused wondering where she was. It seems to be some hidden place but she only looks around trying to go ahead and try to get out. However, she blinks to see this area familiar. However, as she was going to open the door.......

"Well, well, well. Seems you been holding on a lot more longer than I thought. And here I figure you would break.." a voice spoke near her ear.

"!?" She quickly turns to speak but her grey eyes widen seeing who it was. Sukuna Ryomen was standing there while smiling, his four arms showing with his red eyes looking down to her. She only shook seeing him but he chuckled.

"Hello again Ink. How have you been? Enjoying my games so far?" he asked but Ink closed her hand into a fist wanting to hit that smirk off his face. It sickened her!

"....."

"No? Well, I figure you wouldn't but no matter. I did wish to check up on you after our..heh, last game we played. And it seems you healed nicely as much." One of his hands moved to touch her neck that Ink quickly hits his hand away from her glaring at Sukuna. He blinks to see this but he only sees the anger to laugh.

"I don't want you checking up on me for anything! It's already hard enough not to feel sick each time you play your twisted fucked up games! You seem to really enjoy them a lot more when it's involving scaring my friends!" Ink wouldn't have it but Sukuna looks to her even if he was silent.

"Can you blame me? I get bored really easily Inky. You know that. Besides, I enjoy some time to have fun and you also know that too. Why? I'm just having a little fun." he sneered but Ink felt her hand shaking in anger. How was that fine with him!?! Seeing how her friends were and felt, it was too much.

"Besides, it's fun. Being able to see them all running around and screaming in fear. It's fun to me. You seem to not mind it so why not?!" he laughed but Ink was trying to hold her anger down. She had to! But hearing him say this left her more angry just like back then.

"But...I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we play more and more right? You won't mind...right? I already have so many new games to play with you all. So many fun fun fun ideas." he smiled about to raise his hand before she snapped. "Knowing all the fun I had, this was-" as he speaks, his words were on hold feeling something stab right into his chest. He looks down seeing a familiar sword embedded into his chest as he then looks up.

Ink was shaking but their was anger in her grey eyes. She felt her blood boil even if she stabbed him! She wanted to kill him but because he and Yuji were apart, Sukuna was his own self. She saw some of his blood run down his chin to a few drops hitting the blade of the sword.

"ENOUGH WITH THE SICK GAMES! YOU ALREADY GOT YOURSELF FREE, YOU CAN DO WHAT YOU WANT IN THE DEMON WORLD SO WHY ARE YOU STILL MESSING WITH ME AND MY FRIENDS!?" she shouted out baring sharp teeth ready to rip his guts out. Blood still pours from his wound but Sukuna lets her speak.

"You just won't stop! You're nothing but a monster! A horrible sickening monster doing this for his own sick amusement!" she shouted out as Sukuna said nothing.

"Even if you are doing this! I'll find a way to stop you again and again! I won't let you harm them like that again!!"

"......" he only looks to her with a silent expression to see her push Wyvern deeper into his chest from being angry. However.........he only snickered a little when thinking about, making Ink more quiet.

"Hehehe....heeeeeehhheeehehehehe.." His sneer turns to a disturbing grin as Ink watches him. "Hahahahaha...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!' His laughter grew more disturbing now, seeing him burst out laughing like some crazy man. His sharp teeth showing even if the whole situation was just some joke to him. Why was he laughing!? He keeps up laughing for a while before he stops when he looks back at Ink who tense up.

"Am I?"

She blinks hearing his tone but suddenly he moves to slam her against the wall to trap her. "!?!" The blade keeping them away from one another as Ink feels him grab her shirt tightly in his fist.

"I know I'm a monster, Inky. I'm always a fucked up monster....you out of all people should know that since you seen it up front before haven't you?!" he smirked but he sees her anger slowly disappearing a bit. "I'm already have way too much fun with you all as my new toys but lets get one thing straight Inky. I know I'm sick.." she saw him start pushing his body forward as the sword pushes in deeper into his chest cavity spilling blood and through his back, blood running down his chin even more. This made her eyes widen disturbed. What was he doing?!?

"I know I'm twisted.." he pushes his body closer towards her spilling more blood. "A freak..a monster...." He pushes even closer that he was meer inches away. "Someone that could kill you in seconds...and your still calling me a monster????" Ink tries to push him back away from her but, he pushes in really close that her sword was deeply embedded into his chest that the dragon skull part was even in getting coated in his blood.

Ink's eyes widen but her face paled in horror seeing how much blood Sukuna was losing but that didn't even phase him. She felt his blood coating her sword and the handle that some of it got on her hands making her start to shake.

"I know I've done a lot of messed up twisted shit Inky but remember what I said before?" he asked now really close to look down at her, his four red eyes glowed with her now terrified grey glowing eyes. He was too close, way too close it scared her. Her body was shaking feeling weak from this but she senses his power a lot more dangerous than it was the last time she fought him too. "I don't give a shit. I do this because it's fun...seeing you and those friends of yours scared makes me..excited. Seeing you all trying to live through my games is fun...I mean after all.." He even had one hand grip her chin seeing her even more afraid.

"You went through it yourself..." he whispered but looks at her. "Even when I placed my curse on you. I know it still leaves such a disturbing memory that it made you look cute....didn't it?" he chuckled but she was silent only to remember.

"......."

"But you know..I missed having fun with you too even if you did make a deal with me twice to keep your friends safe and for me to not be bored..." Another hand runs through her hair, causing Ink to close her eyes. "You really are fun to play with.." he teased but he only chuckled sensing her fear. "What? Has the prideful dragon gotten scared of me over the last few days again? Did you miss our games together?" he teased.

"..N..No..No, I didn't..I.."

"Of course not...I still remember the curse I placed on you...such memories...even when it was something......even when I had fun, that curse was a weaker one. Thanks to you...I can put a more powerful curse on you......just like the good old days....remembering what I could do....or better.." He moves his hand down that his nails rake against her skin making Ink shake. "Marking you all over again...and eating too." he snickered but Ink hated it feeling his fingers through her hair, his hands touching her and she was pinned to the wall since he was way too close.

"But you said you would leave me alone after I did your deal! You said it was null and void!" she barked but he growls to make her quiet.

"..I did say that...but what makes you think I was serious?" he asked but Ink was looking at him.

"W..what?"

"True, it was...but what stopped me from putting another on you? Or the others?...Don't forget Inky...I'm still dangerous to you all..and thanks to all my power..I'm still a threat. You have got stronger true...but I'm still stronger than you." he teased but she looks angry again.

"Y..You..You jerk! You..You better leave my friends alone!!! Haven't you caused enough damage to them!?" she shouted for him to press up more against her that the sword was all through his chest spilling more blood. He even grips her hair to keep her still.

"...Who says I haven't? I'm still itching to play some more..and I'm only getting started....but think about it, even if I haven't..what makes you think I didn't put another one on you?"

"....." Ink was quiet when hearing that. He couldn't have...could he?

"Heh, but I won't spoil the surprise for you..I'll let you think if I have or not." he teased but he saw Ink start to struggle for him to pin her to the wall but he grips her chin again.

"Let me go! Let me go or I'll-" As she speaks, he closes the gap to suddenly kiss her! Her eyes widen in shock but she felt his blood running into her mouth while she shook before he breaks it and drops her to see her cover her mouth disturbed.

Just like from the time he did back at in Japan. He now towers over her but he even reaches to grip Wyvern and pulls it out spilling more blood but he had it embedded into the floor as he was healing. He walks over as Ink backs up but he smiled to her.

"Well, I think I've said enough...I can't wait to have more fun with you and your friends Inky.." he chuckled as he raised a hand but he cuts her arms off, hearing her shout in pain wincing. However, she saw him about to slash her throat to kill her until-

~~~~~~~~~~

Ink shot up screaming awake in tears as she panted soaked in sweat. She looks left and right seeing she was in her room still to see the outside. It was still sunny out and her team might have been downstairs still. She looks at her shaky hands but she panted trying to calm down.

"Just a dream..it was just another damn dream.." she whispered trying to do that but when she wipes the sweat off her skin she stops noticing something. "Huh?" she lowers her hand for a moment before grey eyes widen.

their was red spots on her hand..wait, was this.....Looking worried, she got out of bed to the mirror to see. Their was light red lines on her arms as in her dream when Sukuna cut her arms off. But she also noticed the blood red stains on her hands and some on her chin when he kissed her.

With grey eyes widening, she grips the back of her shirt shaking. She even quickly tries to clean her mouth out from the kiss in her dream after that moment. She could have sworn she could taste his blood now and it made her more nervous.

If he did mean what he said; then did that curse he place on her come back? She was too nervous to wonder but goes to try getting cleaned up to calm down. When doing that, their was a slight black mark seen on her upper back where she didn't know that Sukuna did give her a gift to remind her he still was a threat to them.

No matter the case.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #horror book chapter 7: dead scars #van ink the dragon #sukuna ryomen #the fractions of NYC #demon-blood-youths #peahen writer #horror world au

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binniesthighs · 4 years

Text

what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!)

what you heard | reader x changjin

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken.

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break.

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back.

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back.

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you.

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed.

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left.

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay?

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back.

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer.

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics.

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight.

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene.

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes.

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended.

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.”

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??”

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.”

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed.

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!”

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.”

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.”

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.”

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!”

“Hey!!”

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?”

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well.

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?”

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.”

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down.

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.”

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything.

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?”

“What’s that?”

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.””

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?”

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend.

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.”

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?”

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.”

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.”

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back.

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...”

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would.

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?”

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.”

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added.

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.”

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead.

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.”

The blond tiled his head.

“The part about being in love?”

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets.

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...”

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real.

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.”

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.”

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had.

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s.

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.”

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling.

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns.

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?”

“Like, in love, in love?”

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself.

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly.

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will.

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.”

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it.

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged.

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could.

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest.

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space.

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?”

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?”

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??”

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones.

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man.

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly.

“O-outside? Right now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw.

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“I-I didn’t say that...”

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?”

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin.

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.”

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch.

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips.

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?”

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world.

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care.

“It doesn’t hurt to try...”

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it.

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck.

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment.

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him.

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more.

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes.

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close.

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long.

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only.

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you.

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold.

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time.

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him.

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close.

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable.

“I don’t think so?”

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for.

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get.

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this.

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch.

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?”

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him.

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy.

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.”

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole.

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?”

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him.

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you.

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you.

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back.

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member.

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth.

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises.

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours.

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit.

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper.

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.”

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips.

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?”

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth.

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard.

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs.

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them.

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release.

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too.

“Oh shit, oh shit--”

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg.

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed.

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.”

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue.

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow.

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms.

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!”

“You could’ve tried!!”

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.”

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well.

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.”

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off.

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie.

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.”

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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amchara · 3 years

Text

Road to Hell (Wait for Me, I’m Coming) Part Two - Kit / Ty Hadestown AU

(Part One)

Ty rubbed his face tiredly, as he stared at another chicken-scratch parchment in the Unseelie Court’s library. He looked up and saw that Dru was fast asleep, gently snoring into her crossed arms, while Anush was dazedly flipping through pages of a huge leatherbound book. Mark had left a while ago, muttering something about getting some food for them but he hadn’t returned yet.

Ty looked down at his research, the collected notes he had written over the last day and a half and suddenly it seemed pitiful, compared to the task ahead. Ty could feel the panic rising, his chest tight and he concentrated on the feel of the rough paper underneath his fingertips. He had to get Kit out of Hell and he was taking notes, like he was back in the Scholomance and this was an assignment, instead of… instead of the most important fucking thing in the world.

He hadn’t told Kit how he felt yet. They had only just re-entered each other’s lives over the past two months and were still doing a wary dance as they relearned each other’s steps after three years apart.

There had been a hesitant scene in the L.A. Institute’s atrium when Kit had strolled in, almost as if he had never left, all sunshine gold hair, eyes the colour of a clear autumn sky, and a husky voice with just the slightest hint of an English accent.

There had been the angry, sparse time when Helen had sent them on a patrol together and they had strode along in miserable silence until Kit had finally stopped him and asked where Livvy was- and Ty had snapped back at him, the wound still raw, that he was trying to make amends for everything he’d done but he’d had to do it alone and he wasn’t ready to talk about it. The fragile moment when Kit’s face had crumpled briefly and he told Ty he was sorry he had left and that Ty had had to do it alone. And the appearance of the Raum demons a minute later, interrupting them- but then the glimpse of how it could be, as Kit had stopped him after the attack and insisted on drawing the iratze on Ty’s forearm, his face a study of concentration as they sat in the car before driving back to the Institute.

There had been fleeting, glorious moments in the training room when they had sparred, the pretence of combat a freeing sensation for Ty, as he felt able to finally touch Kit and the look Kit had given him, his breath an uneven whisper on Ty’s collarbone after he pinned him to the floor, almost helping Ty make his decision. But it hadn’t been enough - and the agonising choice of whether to knock - and still being a coward and walking away, almost too quickly, from Kit’s door.

And then that moment in the clearing. When Kit had done the stupid, honourable Herondale thing and sacrificed himself for the rest of them. Ty didn’t think he’d do the same if the situation was reversed - but then again, he was a Blackthorn.

From far away, he could hear a tearing, ripping sound and he came back to himself, noting the confetti of yellow parchment floating down to the ground around him, as he paced back and forth, paper strewn around him and his hands moving almost mechanically as he shredded his carefully taken notes.

Anush looked over at him, finally noticing Ty’s pacing and his eyes widened. And just then, Mark re-appeared in the doorway, carrying a large tray. He let out a curse as he saw Ty, almost knocking over the tray in his hurry to put it down. He crossed the room quickly to stand in front of Ty, gentle as he placed his hands over his brother’s as he clasped them a firm grip. This time, Ty let him in and he drew in a few deep, shuddering breaths as he let the small remains of paper drop.

“It’s all right,” he told Mark. “I have them all memorised.”

Mark nodded. “It’s wise to not leave the notes to Hade unguarded,” he said. He paused. “Although perhaps a bit unkind to the brownie cleaners - but no matter, I’ll arrange to speak to them.”

There was a stretch of silence. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Ty said. “I can’t wait too long- we don’t know if time moves differently in Hades compared to the rest of Faerie and I can’t risk it.”

Mark’s eyes searched Ty’s face - not seeking eye contact but a different kind of reassurance. He seemed to find it, and he dropped Ty’s hands. “Then we’ll prepare to go together - you’re not going alone,” he said. A chorus joined in - a rousing if slightly terrified response from Anush, and a sleepy affirmation from Dru, who appeared to have just woken up.

Ty felt a brief moment of terror that he was bringing more people into what his research told him was likely a suicide mission… but the ice cold shiver of memories and Livvy’s pleading, drained face swam into view and he swallowed his protests. He didn’t think he could go through it alone again.

—

The ivory keys of the grand piano were always immaculately polished and Kit wondered whose job it was to clean them. His job was to play the music and he thanked - well, it wasn’t God and it wasn’t the Angel Raziel - but he thanked his lucky stars that he had picked up some basic songs from Jace the previous summer when he had visited the New York Institute, and that Jem had considered learning to read music by sight an essential part of a well-rounded education, alongside Kit’s Shadowhunter training and mundane school.

In contrast to the bright electric fluorescence that lit the warren of overly warm machinery-filled rooms that Kit had started to refer to as Hadestown, Persephone’s conservatory was different, with its faded white, latticed walls and high glass ceilings letting in the smallest fraction of outside light.

It reminded him of where he had lived with Jem, Tessa and Mina - in… C- In Cir- Kit’s mind stuttered. He didn’t know how long he had been here - the days were starting to blur together and he was worried he was starting to forget more than just the little things.

He stared down at the piano keys as the large ornamental clock on the wall struck eleven. Like clockwork precision, Persephone waltzed in, her movements sultry but sulky as always. She threw some new music books at Kit and he caught them awkwardly, balancing them on his lap.

“These ones - I don’t care which one you play first today,” she said, sitting down on the long fainting couch across from him, her black hair spilling over the white satin fabric as she rested her head. Kit tried not to stare at her deep decolletage, which was prominently framed by the tight red dress she was wearing. She noticed as he turned away and her gaze was hungry as she looked at him.

Kit looked down as he chose a music book and blindly opened it to a first page he saw. He started playing, a crooning jazz number singing out underneath his fingers. He didn’t know if it was because he was in Faerie or the spell he could feel he was under but he was a much better musician here than in the mundane world. The tight, lost look on Persephone’s face began to relax as the melody echoed in the conservatory.

As he finished the first song and began another, his movements almost automatic, Kit allowed himself to think again, of escape - of returning to the land of the living - to his family, to the Shadowhunter institutions he was slowly becoming accustomed to again, to… Ty. To what might be between them, although he had almost strangled that hope, locked it away tight and deep inside his heart. What they had resurrected - if that word could be used - given previous circumstances was almost a miracle, Kit thought, hard fought for and one that he hadn’t been about to throw away on foolish too-soon declarations of love. Even so, when he had seen that faerie arrow aimed straight at Ty’s heart, he hadn’t hesitated. He might not be ever able to tell Ty how he felt but at least he had been able to show it in his actions, he mused.

And he wasn’t about to give up on leaving this hellhole, although each unrelenting day in this dull, dark and depressing place of dust and hollow-eyed workers pulled at that hope. But he clung to his memories - to the now-dimly lit memories of the outside world. Of his love for a black-haired, grey-eyed boy with his sharp intellect and fierce love of his family, who saw the world in a different light than most, and was - had been willing - and maybe, might be willing again to share it with Kit.

The last note rang out as he finished the song and he drew his hands back, muscles aching. He had been playing for nearly an hour. In the sudden silence, Persephone let out a ragged sigh.

“Who is the love that you play for, boy?” she said, her voice ancient and rough. She rose from the couch and crossed the floor, her dress swishing across the smooth marble. “I have heard many love songs in my years… but yours is one that I haven’t heard in an eon. Tell me their name.” Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears.

But Kit remained silent. He knew instinctively if he said Ty’s name, he would lose it. He shook his head, his lips pressed together.

Persephone narrowed her eyes, and she reached out, as if to stroke his brow. Kit evaded her and stood up. He had been coming to play for her for several times now, and he had started to learn her ways. He needed a distraction. “I saw that crack in the wall- is that new, Persephone?” Kit lowered his voice as he gestured across the room. “I know you’re a captive as much as I am. Let me help you- we can escape together and then I will tell you.”

Persephone’s laugh was as dry as a winter’s wind as she sized him up. “Oh, that’s adorable, my sweet-” she said. “But I made my choice long ago and it’s--” her eyes suddenly moved past him. “It’s the love I deserve,” her voice suddenly was filled with honey and springtime.

Kit knew that Hades had arrived, and he tried to quell the fear rising in him as he turned around.

The man - fae - god or whatever he was - was standing in the doorway, casually watching them.

“Leave him,” he said in his deep voice. “I desire your company.”

Persephone swept past Kit without another word and draped herself across Hades. “Of course my darling- I am here. What shall we do?”

Hades took a moment to whisper into her ear and Persephone looked uncomfortable but let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Of course.”

Hades smiled, with a devilish twist and he pulled her away, starting down the hall.

But then he stopped and looked back at Kit. “Your shift here has ended - get back on the assembly line.”

Kit looked down at his rough worker’s uniform, smeared with rust and dust and he forced himself to nod evenly - he knew from past experience that it was unwise to argue with Hades.

Hades’ firelit eyes swept over him. “And once that is over - come see me in my office.”

And at that, Kit knew that he was in trouble. Hades had summoned him twice since his arrival to his office, after the initial contract signing. Each time afterwards Kit had found himself weak and gasping on the floor outside, his mind blank and unsure of what had passed behind the walls of the office. Nothing good, he thought grimly - and that was likely the cause of his increasingly fuzzy memory recall.

He needed to escape and soon. He nodded again and Hades left with Persephone. Kit started to make his way to the factory floor. On his way out of the conservatory, he bumped into a small, bird-framed girl with a luminous beauty and whose too-large eyes must have been lively once but were now faded and glazed over with the thousand yard stare that all Hades’ workers had. That he might soon have. “What’s your name?” Kit asked the girl, trying not to sound desperate.

She looked up at him. “I- Eu- I…” she looked puzzled and sad. “I don’t know.” she said.

Kit felt a stab of despair.

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be added / removed!)

@jesse-is-spiraling @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @thechangeling

#kitty fanfiction #tsc fanfiction #kit herondale x ty blackthorn #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #my fanfic

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nano--raptor · 3 years

Text

On Time Arrangement

Pairing: Professor Charles Blackwood x College TJ Hammond

Words: 1880

Warnings: Professor/Student relationship, smut, oral sex (m rec), dirty talk, praise, cursing, slight degredation and name calling (slut), TJ is mid 20s’s and Charles is mid-late 30’s.

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club Long Distance Love weekend! One of the prompt ideas was college AU, and I wanted to write character student this time, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to write these two together😏 Thanks for reading!❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT authorize my work to be copied, translated or reposted in ANY way.

18+ ONLY. This post contains mature subject matter. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you agree that you are 18+. Do not interact if you are under the age of 18.

TJ arrived to class a split second after the bell rang, slipping through the door just as it was closing. He hurried to take his seat a few rows back in the lecture hall, hoping his prof wouldn’t notice.

If he could be so lucky. Professor Blackwood stood at the front of the hall, waiting not so patiently for everyone to settle down, starting into his lecture less than a minute after the bell rang, expecting everyone to be ready to start at the sound of the bell. That is when the class began, after all.

After a few opening remarks and introduction of the day’s topic, he paused, critical eyes scanning the room. TJ gulped, hoping he’d escape his professor’s wrath today, but those icy blue eyes paused, lingering on TJ’s own, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Dammit. TJ squirmed, fidgeting with his pen and finally crossing his legs, and he swore he saw the briefest hint of a smirk before his professor turned away, starting into the lecture.

TJ could barely concentrate, but he did his best, trying to take notes and focus on the lesson. Before he knew it, the 90 minute period was over and the bell was ringing again. He packed up his things and stood to leave the hall, Professor Blackwood’s voice cutting through the mulling of students as TJ neared the door, sending a tingle down his spine. “Mr. Hammond. I expect to see you at my office at 4pm to make up for your tardiness.”

Shit.

TJ shifted anxiously on his feet as he stood outside the large oak door, checking his phone until the time read exactly 4pm, before knocking lightly on the aged wood. This wasn’t the first time he’d met his professor in his office, but his nerves nearly got the best of him every time. The door swung open with force and TJ started, Professor Blackwood’s piercing eyes meeting his for just a moment before he stepped back, walking towards his desk. TJ followed him in and closed the door, flicking the lock, before stepping in further. He paused in front of the large wooden desk, nearly an antique, and clasped his hands together.

“So,” his professor, Charles, started. “Late again today, Mr. Hammond.” TJ nibbled his bottom lip, not having a good excuse whatsoever. He’d overslept, dashed to class and literally ran through the hall to make it on time, and still ended up missing the bell. Fraction of a second or not, in Blackwood’s class, late was late.

“I’m sorry, Professor Blackwood, sir,” TJ started, holding Charles’ gaze despite his nerves. Charles sat back in his chair with a hum, fingers steepled, keeping his eyes locked on TJ's with the slightest smirk on his lips. He’d removed his suit jacket that he’d worn earlier, it hung neatly on a coat rack by the door. The calm nature in which he held himself both intrigued and terrified TJ. He never knew what to expect from this man.

“I’m sure you are,” he drawled. “Did you even catch any of the lecture today, or were you too distracted?” TJ winced; he’d tried to pay attention, but the glare he’d received at the beginning of class had thrown him off, and Charles knew it. He’d done it on purpose.

“I was listening, sir, I -”

“Well why don’t you go over the main points then,” Charles suggested, his tone a little darker, knowing that TJ wouldn’t be able to recall all the points off the top of his head.

“Sir, I - I haven’t had time to review my notes.” “Ah. Of course not.” He paused, tapping his fingers together, clearly enjoying the way his gaze made TJ squirm. “Do you have something else in mind then, Mr. Hammond?” TJ’s gaze flicked back up to meet his professor’s, the blush already creeping up his neck to his cheeks as he nodded slowly. Yes, he did have something else in mind, but he wanted Charles to say it, just like he did every time TJ made an office visit.

TJ just nibbled his lip, wringing his hands together and dropping his gaze again. He knew Charles loved it. Loved the little back and forth, the hard to get, the innocence ploy that TJ was so very good at. Charles clenched his jaw and raised an eyebrow, playing his own game that made TJ’s cock twitch. Oh how he loved it. But he wouldn’t dare ask for it, this was always in Charles’ court, in his control.

It was exactly what TJ wanted.

“Come here.” It was a command, a lower and more stern tone than he would ever use in class, and TJ swallowed hard as the sound rolled through him, making his skin prickle. He walked slowly towards the desk, stopping around the side just a few feet from Charles. The other man just smiled, his eyes flashing, his low voice rolling through TJ again. “Closer, Mr. Hammond. What are you doing way over there.” TJ bit his lip hard to hold in the groan, stepping closer still until he stood between Charles’ spread thighs. Oh the thoughts he’d had about these thighs. It was sinful.

“Now,” Charles began as his hands moved to his belt. “What if you put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, hm?” Slowly, painfully slowly, he opened his belt, undoing the buckle, sliding it open and letting it drop, his hands now reaching up to his tie. Dark lashes practically fluttered as he loosened it, and TJ nearly groaned again, feeling the heat pool between his legs. Something about Charles and his fingers and they way moved so smoothly, nimbly, TJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about those fingers either.

With a shy, sultry smile, TJ slowly sank down to his knees between Charles’ legs, placing his hands on toned thighs and sliding them upwards. Charles was looking down at him now with a possessive glint in his eyes, watching as TJ’s hands ghosted over his crotch, lightly brushing over the bulge in his pants, before undoing the button and slowly pulling the zipper down. TJ palmed him through his underwear, biting into his bottom lip again as he pulled the waistband down to free Charles’ impressive length from the confines of the fabric. He licked his lips then, glancing up at Charles through his own dark lashes, pulling the perfect puppy dog eyes that he knew the other man loved.

“Look at you, so eager…” Charles mused, his voice trailing off as TJ leaned in, licking a stripe up his cock and pulling a groan from him as he closed his lips around the red, aching tip. TJ knew Charles loved his mouth on him, he’d done it enough times to have already figured out what his professor liked. Sometimes he wished they could have more time, the opportunity to explore each other further, and really find out what drove Charles wild.

TJ licked over Charles’ length again before swallowing him down, pulling another deep moan from the other man, sending a shiver straight to his own cock, already straining in his jeans. He moaned around him, and Charles rolled his hips up further into TJ’s mouth in return. When he bumped against the back of TJ’s throat, he just hummed, breathing through his nose as he swallowed around him, Charles muttering curses above him.

“Shit, you’re far too good at that…”

TJ’s hands wandered further up Charles’ thighs, squeezing and massaging, and as they neared his hips, TJ wished he could grab Charles’ ass, his naked ass, and pull him deeper, wondering what it would feel like in his hands. He moaned at the thought, causing Charles to jerk his hips forward. TJ looked back up at him as he swallowed around him again.

Watching Charles fall apart for him, from just his mouth, filled TJ with pride, it excited him. He wanted more, he wanted Charles to fuck him over the desk, he wanted to sit in his lap, he wanted to be in his bed. He wasn’t sure how far this might go, but he’d blown him before, and every time it made him rock hard, and Charles would cup his face and brush his cheek and tell him how much of a slut he was, on his knees getting hard without being touched. TJ loved it.

Charles’ hand found it’s way into TJ’s hair and tugged, TJ moaning around his cock at the slight pain. Harder. He doubled his efforts and was rewarded with the hand clenching, pulling deliciously on his hair, digging his own fingers into his professor’s thighs. Charles groaned, leaning his head back and bucking further into TJ’s mouth.

“You and that mouth, it’s so goddamn good. You like when I use it, don’t you. That’s why you keep showing up late for my class. You just want me to fuck your pretty mouth like this.” TJ whined around him, saliva starting to run down his chin. He was sure he looked like a mess, but Charles’ words were making him hot, so hot, his hips started jerking too, wishing he had some friction to relieve himself.

He glanced up at Charles and moaned again at the sight. Cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes closed. His usually well-styled hair had fallen loose, a few strands falling into his face, and TJ longed to run his hands through that caramel hair. When Charles spoke, his voice was a deep, gravelly tremor that shot straight to TJ’s gut, but seeing him sitting there panting, almost on the edge of orgasm, it made TJ desperate to cum too. He wanted to beg for it, but it was impossible with his mouth full. So he just whined, shifting at Charles’ feet, gripping his thighs again.

“Oh yeah baby, there it is, keep going, you wanna come too? My dumb little slut, on his knees just begging for it. So fucking good, come on, ah!” TJ sucked hard at Charles’ words, feeling a heat rush through him and he bucked his hips, nearly cumming untouched, as Charles came with a groan, straight down TJ’s throat.

He couldn't help the ways his hips rolled while he curled his tongue, still sucking gently, his cock painfully hard, while Charles rode out his orgasm. TJ wanted it too, moaning around him, the sight of this gorgeous man getting off making TJ hot beyond words. He couldn't wait to get his own hands on himself, fueled by thoughts of what he wanted Charles to do to him. Lost in the fantasy, he was quickly pulled out of his daze by Charles' low voice, and he blinked up at him with glassy eyes while licking up the last of his release.

“Look at you. I’m starting to think this is more of a reward for you rather than a punishment. That just won’t do anymore, rewarding you for being late.” Then he leaned forward, gripping TJ’s chin and wiping the mess from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his words sending a delicious chill down TJ's spine. “If you ever want this again, I suggest you be a good boy and show up on time for my class."

* follow @nano--raptor-writes for my taglist! *

#hbc long distance love weekend #tj hammond #charles blackwood #professor au #college au #tj hammond x charles blackwood #charles blackwood x tj hammond #tj hammon smut #charles blackwood smut #crackship

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jiminx Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 18.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings In This Chapter: Some Good Ol’ Angst, Angry!Jimin, Jealous!Jimin, Fluff, Blood, Children’s Body Parts

A/N: Guys, ILY. Shout out to my forever squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia.

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills, @kim-ji-hyeons-world, @jikooksgirl19, @yoong-i, @ruinsofangels, @absolutefantrash, @chiminies-noona, @eclectically-esoteric, @simplybree, @outrofenty, @yxnxxli

4 weeks before Casino Night

It's like a terminal disease, eating it's way through your home. It's taking members of your family in the night. The heartache, the silence, the suffering.

It's like when you have the flu. All of your senses have become dim. Your ears feel muffled, you can't smell properly, can't even taste.

And, sickness always gets worse before it gets better.

You've been distant from your husband lately. Or rather, he's been distant from you.

He's been working to keep the pain and misery away but you can understand him. He finds the calming sense of relief only when he lays his head on the pillow beside you before sleeping.

Entering the kitchen, his eyes drift over to you before kissing your temple as you lean against the white countertop.

His eyes fall to your protruding stomach before ripping them away and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning." You whisper as your hands cup the black ceramic of your teacup.

"Morning, Kitten." He murmurs before taking a sip of coffee and looking out the window above the sink to the luscious backyard.

He has always had this never ending guilt when it comes to you and his family. There's always something to blame him for but now, he knows how close he is to ending it-- he can't feel the guilt, only the sense of waiting.

"The baby moved this morning." You notify him as he stares off into the distance.

He's been keeping distant with your children too. Like he doesn't want to relish in something that could disappear within moments.

"Oh good. She's healthy then." He says before clearing his throat.

You hum in agreement as you stand up tall. Your hand lands on your stomach and you catch him looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

"She's moving now if you want to feel it." You tell him as you set your cup down on the counter.

His fingers grip tighter at his own cup before clearing his throat.

"Nah. I gotta….Gotta get ready for today's job. I'm going to be busy all day." He whispers, his voice sounding strained and displaced.

His words don't hurt you, they make you feel sorry for him. Truly. To not even be able to relish in a smidgeon of happiness is heart wrenching.

But, you can understand. You avoided him for so long when you felt like you were letting him down just a few months ago. And, you know that no matter what happens he'll always find his way back to you. Because, you're both tethered to each other like fate.

"Alright. Well we love you." You tell him before walking around the large marble island and kissing his cheek. His eyes flutter shut as your distended belly presses to his side.

"I love you, too Kitten. Always. You know that." His hand leaves the cup for a fraction of a second before gripping it again.

"I'm going to stay home today, the baby is making me feel queasy." You tell him before patting his bicep.

"Do you...Do you want me to get you anything?"

You turn to him as you walk backwards.

"Just come home safe. That's all I want." You reply before heading towards the staircase.

You pace the home office as Namjoon sits in the big armchair behind the desk.

"I mean there has to be something to it, right? Some sort of clue." You say aloud as you perch your hand below your chin.

He kicks his feet up on the desk as he stares at the stock card. You both have been obsessed with this letter for a while now. Only you, Namjoon and Yoongi have discussed this in private. They were the two that were around you the most frequently.

"I don't know, there should be something but I've cross referenced both of the Im twins handwriting and it's not theirs. I had it professionally checked." Namjoon says as he takes off his glasses. He dabs the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand before setting down the threat note on the desk.

You grunt in frustration, your hand faltering to your stomach as your daughter flutters about inside you.

"There just has to be something. It's too...neat. Too weird, y'know?" You ask the now blue haired man as he hums in agreement.

"Hey, Y/N. We're gonna get these guys, alright? We will." Your friend promises as he puts his glasses back on.

You sit down in the large armchair as your eyes flit from his to the note on the desk.

"Something is off. Just not right and I can't put my finger on it. I know this card means something. I feel like I'm having deja vu. Like I've seen it before."

This peaks Joon's interest and he leans his elbows on the table as he presses his body to the desk.

"You've never told me that before." He says as he interlocks his fingers.

"Yeah. Well I've been having a lot of time to think since I don't spend time with my husband anymore." You snap at him, your eyes narrowing at the handsome man.

He clears his throat before nodding.

"Yeah. I get it. I'm sorry." He whispers as you look at the stained glass window.

You can see the rain drops as they lazily roll down the colored glass. You run your tongue over your teeth before putting your hand to your forehead.

There's silence for a while. A long while in fact. But, it's peaceful.

Namjoon clears his throat again before shifting in the large chair.

"Does he...talk about what's bothering him? Doesn't he open up?" You snort at his question before rolling your head to him, your hair falling over your shoulder as you sigh.

"Not since he opened up the Bullet Box." You reply, referencing to the gun compartment inside your room.

He sighs loudly before putting his hands on his face.

"We're like fucking drowning over here. We're so in the dark and now's the time where he has no plan?" You shrug and shake your head in confusion before looking back at the window.

At least you could confide in Joon, he's a good listener and impartial to everyone's feelings.

"We can't have a plan if we don't know what's going on. And, he thinks Casino Night is going to magically save him." You reply finally.

He lets out a disbelieving chuckle as he puts his hands on the sides of his head.

"Yeah well we need a real plan. Having all the lions in here is nice but we need a legitimate, unfailing plan." You nod as a raindrop slides down the sparrow's face on the stained glass window.

"Yes. We do." You reply as you close your eyes.

Your house was so stuffed full of people, it was almost becoming claustrophobic. The amount of times you’ve had to tell lions to put things down or not touch something was really getting under your skin.

They’re smart and fast when it comes to their jobs but dumb and slow on picking up how to be people. You’re beginning to think anyone with a bloodthirsty drive just gets a red hot poker to the back of their neck without any initiation or interview.

“Good evening Madam.” You hear from the kitchen as you sit on the couch in the sitting room.

You look up as Sanghoon enters the room.

There was just something about this guy that you adored. He kind of reminds you of Minseok in a way. He’s young, about eighteen or nineteen and has a smile that just lights up the room. He could have been an idol or something glamorous like that with his handsome features but he started working for you and your husband about two years ago.

“Hoonie.” You say happily as you close the book you’ve been reading.

Don’t get it twisted, you miss your kids around but some silence is nice too.

“I’d offer you some but you can’t.” He says as he holds up his beer with a smirk.

You pat the spot beside you on the couch as you rest your arm atop the lip. Folding your arm at the elbow, you press your palm to your temple as he walks over.

His strides are confident and calculated and it makes you smirk. When he first came to you guys he had a lot to learn. He was just a pickpocket on the streets of Seoul then. He had no family, no money or assets. And, now he walks around in Versace with the confidence of a thousand CEOs.

“Must be nice to not have idiots around touching all your shit, huh?” He asks with a chuckle as he sits down beside you.

You tuck your legs beneath you as you turn your body to him. You give a laugh at his comment before nodding as your eyes drift around the paintings that line the walls.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is. If I see another moron break an expensive vase I’ll shoot them myself.” You jeer making him laugh.

“You just let me know who it is, Vixen. I’ll take care of them. You shouldn’t overwork yourself in your state.” He says before taking a sip of his beer.

You raise your eyebrows at him before laughing.

“Oh really now, and who is it that taught you how to shoot when she was nine months pregnant with her son?” You ask, putting your hand over your heart daintily.

He holds his hands up with a smile before tilting his head.

“You’re right. You’re right. My bad. You can take care of ‘em on your own. I’m just saying...you shouldn’t have to.” He whispers. You hum to him as he leans in closer to you before putting his temple on the couch.

“You’ve been like an older sister to me, noona. Thanks. It means a lot.” He says sincerely as his fingertip circles rings around the beer bottle opening.

You snort gently before ruffling his hair. The front door opens and you turn your head to the noise. Your husband steps inside with a grocery bag and his eyes narrow at Sanghoon on the couch beside you.

“Hi, baby.” You say with a smile. He purses his lips before drawing his gun and setting the bag down on the table beside the door.

“Hi, wife. What are you doing up so late with my daughter in your belly?” He asks as he holds the gun up.

You roll your eyes, earning widening eyes from him.

“Waiting for you and talking to Hoonie.” You say confused as you tilt your head out of his gun's way.

“Hoonie. Is it?” He asks through clenched teeth as Sanghoon begins to stutter.

“You got a speech impediment, boy? Stammering and shit. You tryina fuck my pregnant wife?” Jimin asks loudly as he steps down the entryway steps.

“N-No! No Boss! I was thanking Y/N noona for taking me in.” Your husband hums loudly as Sanghoon stands up.

“Oh, babe. Come on. He’s just a kid. Don’t be like that.” You say as he cocks the gun.

Jimin rolls his head on his shoulder before stepping around the arm chair. The only distance between him and the younger man is the length of the coffee table at their feet.

“I like you Sanghoon. You’re grown up well in my family but that doesn’t mean you can be overly friendly with my wife. Do you understand me?” You flinch at his words before looking up at Sanghoon with sorry eyes as he whimpers beneath the gaze of the gun.

“Y-Yes Boss. I’m so sorry. I won’t- I’ll never-”

“Get out of my fucking sight before I shoot you.” Jimin sneers before uncocking his gun.

“Okay. Bye noona!” He says quickly before scurrying back into the kitchen and down the stairs.

You stare at your husband as he begins to pull off his tie with angry hands.

“That was so unnecessary. You scared him!” You admonish your husband as you stand up.

He chuckles to himself before looking down at you as he tosses his tie onto the armchair behind him.

“You were petting him like a fucking dog, Kitten. You think that’s not going to boil my blood? You want him to come back up and eat your pregnant cunt? Cause I’ll leave you two alone.” He says holding his hands up. You can hear the droll venom encased in his voice and it sends you standing on your toes in front of him in seconds.

“Don’t you fucking dare. You’ve been ignoring me for a month now, maybe more. And, now’s the time when you get macho husband on me? I don’t think so, Jimin. Quit it.” You say as you shove past him.

His hand catches your wrist quickly before pulling you into his arms. His hands become steady on your shoulders as he bends down to your height.

“You do understand that any man in any vicinity of you is going to set me off. Don’t you? He was looking at you like he wanted to fuck you. Pregnant with my baby or not. You’re my wife. You’re mine.” He says, staring into your eyes as his thumbs rub comforting strokes on your bare skin.

“Plus you had your tits practically out in this nightgown.” He murmurs as his eyes flicker to the swell of your breasts below the blood red silk.

“Yeah, well I’m married. You should trust me, idiot.” You say angrily. You’re taking it all in though before he goes quiet on you again for an extended period of time. You’re taking in the way he rubs your skin with his thumbs. Taking in the loving gaze he bores into your body. Everything.

You miss it. You miss him.

“I do trust you, baby. It’s any other man with a dick that I don’t trust.” He says softly and you want to mewl at his words.

All of a sudden he’s in your space again and you’ve been dying for him to be. You’ve missed him so dearly it almost makes you weep.

“Well I’d never do anything to lose you or your trust.” You whisper as you put your hand to your stomach.

His eyes follow your hand before biting at his bottom lip nervously.

“She’s moving around? The little peanut?” He asks as he lets you go.

That was the first time you’ve heard his adorable nickname for his new child. Hawon was little bean. Minseok was little man and now your newest daughter is little peanut.

“Yeah, she’s moving a lot.” You tell him, in hopes that he might react in some way for you to gauge just how close he’s going to let you become again.

He nods and his fingers flex uncomfortably like he wants to touch you.

"You can touch her if you want to. I'm sure she'd like it." Your voice sounds hopeful and you mentally chide yourself for it.

He begins to unbutton his black dress shirt as he steps away from you.

"I brought you home some of those ginger lollipops you like for when you feel sick and some more Tums for your heart burn." He says as he walks towards the entryway.

Wishful thinking you suppose as you follow behind him.

Laying down in bed, the second your head hits the pillow you're yawning loudly and turning onto your side.

Planting a pillow beneath your stomach you murmur to your husband, "I love you."

He looks up from the armchair by the chess table before running his hand over his face.

"I love you, too Kitten. Good night." You hear the self admonishing in his tone and even though you close your eyes you stay awake for a while.

Just being in the same room with him for now is comfy enough.

Behind black eyelids, the bed dips on his side.

He stares at your face, sighing gently to himself as he looks over your features.

He runs a hand over your cheek as he lays down beside you.

"God. You feel like a million miles away from me." He mutters as he leans in to you.

His plush lips kiss your forehead and linger for a while.

From your cheek, his hand slowly glides down your shoulder to your stomach.

This was why you stayed awake, even if he doesn't know it. It feels good to have him here again, with you again.

"Hi my little peanut." He whispers softly as he slides down the bed. He rests his head on the pillow under your stomach as he stares at your growing bump.

"Mommy's been taking good care of you. You're getting so big." He mumbles as he presses his lips to your belly.

You open one eye and smile as he rubs your stomach.

"I'm sorry daddy hasn't been around, it's not fair to you," You can feel the fluttering in your stomach and you know he does as well as he sighs, "I know. I'm sorry. I missed you. I'm just afraid right now. But, mommy is strong enough for the both of us."

You close your open eye as you begin to drift off to sleep.

"You know I love you, your siblings and your mommy more than anything, don't you?" You hear him ask softly as you fall asleep.

Waking up, you pretend like you didn't witness what happened last night. Certainly because Jimin makes it seem like it never happened.

Stepping out of bed, you stretch as he puts on his suit pants.

"Morning." You mumble, wiping the bleary sleep from your eyes.

"Morning, baby." He whispers before walking past you into the walk in closet.

You roll your eyes with a sigh before taking off to the bathroom.

You just have to let him come around. That's all there is to it.

"BOSS!" The scream is shrill and it aches your heart as you both peak out of the rooms you're in before looking at each other.

"MADAM!" You rush out of the bathroom in mere seconds. Grabbing your gun from the night table before ripping open the bedroom door.

Your husband is hot on your heels as you run down the hallway and down the stairs.

"What?! What's wrong?!" You yell as you reach the second landing.

"Hey Y/N. Take it easy." Taehyung says cautiously from the doorway.

"What is it?!" Jimin yells loudly as you finally reach the entryway.

Some lions move out of the way for you both as Taehyung sets a white cardboard box on the ground.

Your heart picks up, "Body parts?" You ask as he steps away from the box with his hand over his heart.

Jimin puts his hand on the small of your back as you bend down to open the box.

"Just relax, Y/N." Taehyung calls cautiously, earning a raised eyebrow from your husband.

Opening the box, you let out a strangled scream as children's body parts sit inside of the box.

"Fuck!" Jimin curses as he slams the lid out of your hands and back onto the box.

Your body falters, falling to the ground as you widen your eyes.

"Baby." Jimin whispers worriedly as he hoists you back up. Your eyes flicker to Hyunah's mansion down the road and you take off without a second though.

"KITTEN!" He yells as he starts to run behind you.

You can feel your chest tightening, sobs ripping from your throat as you barrel down the long stretch of gravel.

Your bare feet ache and get cut up by the small black stones but you keep running, the adrenaline pulsing through your veins like a hot fire.

Jimin catches up with you easily, he stays quiet as you run. His hands carding through his black hair.

Reaching the large gates of her home, you shove them open quickly. Your bloody feet leave marks on her concrete path as you rush to the entrance.

Two Lee men stand at the front door before standing up straighter as you approach.

"Madam, Sir."

"MOVE!" You bellow at the top of your lungs. Their eyes widen as they slowly move out of your way.

You open the door quickly, your eyes scanning the large living room before looking out the large windows to her pool.

You can hear small giggles from the backyard and you sob loudly as you run past Hyunah's butler.

"Hawon! Minseok!" You scream as you rush past the kitchen to the open doors.

Hyunah turns her head to the scream as she sits up in her chaise lounge.

"Whoa. You guys okay?" Yoongi asks while burning out his cigarette as you step out onto the back patio.

Your eyes scan the backyard quickly before a wave of relief runs through you.

"Oh my God! Come here!" You call to your children as you rush off of the stone patio to the pool.

"Mommy!" Hawon cheers and you pull her and Minseok into your arms as fast as you can.

"Jisuk, come here baby!" You call to your nephew who smiles widely at his name passing through your lips.

Jimin crouches down beside you wiping his face of his tears.

"My babies." He whispers before hugging Minseok close to his body.

Jimin's index finger crooks under your chin before pulling your face towards his. He presses his lips firmly to yours as you coddle your daughter to your chest.

"Thank God you're safe." You whisper as she hugs you back.

Whose child was in that box? Who is going through a heartbreak that cannot be foretold? You pity them but you're happy your family is safe.

#the lions den #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btscreatorscorner #mafia!au #mafia!bts #mafia!jimin #mafia!jimin x reader #mafia!jimin x wife

195 notes · View notes

crispy-chan · 4 years

Text

carriwitchet ch.1

>> masterlist

pairing: Han Jisung x reader, 3RACHA x reader

genre/warnings: fluff, high school au, slow burn, friends to lovers, love square, cursing, intimidation+being pressed against a wall (but nothing happens), everyday shenanigans

summary: Being a teen is hard enough. Your friend Chan just transfered to your school, a weirdo in his class takes interest in you, and on top of that, two of your friends, Jisung and Changbin are starting to act strange around you. Trying to navigate through that might be hard, but with your friends by your side you should be able to make it.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hi, this is my first fic and I'm very excited :) It will be a long (slow burn) series which will in later chapters also incorporate some mental health issues, questioning life and in general angsty issues. But primarily, it's supposed to be feel good fluff. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated as I'd love to hear from you guys what I can improve/change. Thx and hope you enjoy <3

- pic not mine

carriwitchet

(n.) a pun or a paradox; a riddling question

CHAPTER 1

You groaned as the last bell of the day rang. Your math teacher was still talking about your homework but nobody was listening to her.

Everybody was focused on getting out the door to get to the school cafeteria before the general mass as you were situated on the very last floor of the building. A liability you were able to look past since you also had the luxury of owning an air-conditioner which was a fourth-floor-only privilege.

While most people ran down the stairs, the usual squad stayed behind, not planning to go to the cafeteria but heading to the sandwich place near your school.

“(Y/n) you coming?” Changbin hollered from the door of your classroom.

“Yeah, just give me a sec, I have to put my books away,” you replied while shoving your workbook hastily into the book locker.

You ran out as quickly as possible to the hallway to see all your friends waiting for your with impatient smiles.

“Come on (Y/n), we don't want the place to be packed,” called Iris while walking down the stairs with Felix and Mei.

“Well, thanks for waiting,” you mumbled quietly, thoughts about your dear friends abandoning you already creeping in your mind.

Luckily, some of your friends didn't forget you as you were reminded by an arm thrown around your shoulder.

“Let’s go (n/n), wouldn't want them to leave us behind,” Changbin stated as he pulled you to the staircase, the use of the nickname not going unnoticed.

“Come on Sung, what are you waiting for,” you turned around facing the other boy and motioning for him to come along. He quickly pulled himself together and followed you with a slightly forced smile.

On your rather long way down the stairs, you and Changbin engaged in a conversation about the previous lesson.

“But seriously, while Ms. Kang was explaining the importance of fraction reduction, I almost died when Jisung suggested that we reduce this lesson,” your laughter sounded through the now empty stairway.

“Y-Yeah, I heard you snort the moment he said it,” Changbin stammered, annoyed at the mention of Jisung.

“Well it was worth the try,” Jisung laughed, finally involving himself in the convo.

The unspoken rivalry between Jisung and Changbin was something you never understood. You found both of them to be good friends to you but you couldn't ignore that there was always some weird tension in the air when they were around.

Your muse was cut short as you guys arrived at the lockers mere seconds after the first trio.

“Are those new shoes?” your thought process was cut off yet again when Changbin inquired about your choice of footwear.

“Yeah, it's the first time I'm wearing them to school, mr. fashion police” you replied while tying your shoelaces.

As you were bending down, Changbin staring at your ass going completely unnoticed by you, you remembered, how he for some unknown reason exposed your fading crush on Hyunjin a while back.

--------- six months earlier ---------

You excitedly skipped to your classroom, a light bounce to your step. Tomorrow was your birthday and you were beyond excited, hoping to go to a cafe or to the park after school with your friends.

As you entered the classroom you noticed that everybody was staring at you. You rounded the corner to yours and Mei’s desk but even she was looking at you with a weird, almost guilty look.

“Wassup Mei, everything ok?” you asked, concern lacing your tone. You couldn't help but feel that something was not right.

“Yeah, w-why do you ask?” she replied with a strained and obviously fake cheerful voice. She pulled you down to your seat and only when you were sitting, mumbled.

“I'll tell you after class.”

The lesson dragged on, every minute feeling like a solid hour, as you nervously bit your lip. From her demeanor, it was obvious something was wrong.

Just when you thought the lesson would never end, the bell finally rang.

“Come on, quick,” she panted, pulling you out of the classroom in a hurry.

She let out a breath she was visibly holding only after you guys were enveloped by the calmness of the empty hallway.

“So look, you need to promise you won't get angry, I-I swear it was an accident…”

She looked so frightened and guilty at the same time you felt pretty bad.

“Look, it's ok, just calm down. I'm sure whatever it is we can fix it, alright?”

“Y-yeah, so it's a bit of a rollercoaster,” she muttered under her breath.

You found yourself worrying for the first time, not exactly sure if you still agree with your previous statement. What the fuck actually happened? (no pun intended)

“Well, you see, me and Changbin were talking a while before you came, and all of a sudden he asked me who do you like.” Mei started nervously explaining and in the corner of your eye, you could see her fisting the hem of her sweater nervously.

You nodded, hinting her to go on.

“And of course I told him I can't tell!” assurance, that it indeed wasn't her who betrayed you, spilling out of her mouth before she could finish.

You already could tell you didn't like where this was going.

“And then he asked if it was Hyunjin and I didn't say anything but he must have known from the look on my face.”

“Erm, any reason everybody was looking at me like I was a fresh piece of meat about to be roasted?” you inquired, shuddering at the thought of how everybody was looking at you mere moments ago.

“Um, so - you won't believe this! He just whipped out his phone and texted Hyunjin you liked him.”

You felt your blood run cold. No, this wasn't possible! No way.

In no way, shape or form were you madly in love with Hyunjin but you had a crush on him since first year. At first, you were quite infatuated by him and his charisma but lately, you found your 'love' for him to be slowly fading.

Nevertheless, you were convinced this was a total low-blow even for somebody like Changbin.

How were you now supposed to face Hyunjin after an embarrassing thing like that.

“Umm, and also, yeah…” no! This could not get any worse.

“Minho and the whole crew were next to him when he received the text…”

You'll be damned, that fucker was gonna get his dick sawed off.

“Uhhh, well thanks for sharing. Now let me go kill some hoe.” You tried to joke but the look on Mei's face clearly showed she felt guilty for this whole escapade.

You crouched down and told her: “Look Mei, I swear I don't think it's your fault. I'll deal with it. I just hope things don't stay awkward for too long with me and Hyunjin. He was a good friend…”

“Y-yeah, c'mon, let's go.” She said with her last bit of conviction.

Upon entering the classroom, you could feel all the gazes piercing through you as you tried your best to ignore them.

The rest of the day went rather smoothly if you don't count practically avoiding everybody except for your closest circle of friends.

And Changbin of course.

Yet you somehow forgave him.

---------------

The next day was your birthday and you weren't going to let such crap ruin your favorite day of the year.

Changbin came running to you first thing in the morning, a big box of your favorite cereal in his hand.

It was the same gift he gave you every year but you weren't sure if this year it was going to be enough.

Not that you wanted a fancy gift or anything like that, but pretending that nothing happened wasn't going to cut it.

“Yeah so, sorry about what happened yesterday… it was kind of a dick move - not exactly sure why I did it…” he lead on.

“Um yeah, ok sure…” not knowing what to say in this kind of situation you messily fumbled around with your reply.

“Oh, and btw, happy birthday, maybe I could take you to the cinema or something later on if you wanted…”

You couldn't help but notice he sounded kinda hopeful.

-------- present --------

“Yo (y/n) you good?”

You almost fell off your cushion as you were reminded that you are very much not alone while Jisung cackled in front of you: “Careful now, wouldn't wanna fall now would you” he snorted.

“Yeah, it's just this sandwich has too much pepper” you opened up your baguette trying to show them that there was indeed way too much pepper.

Except you managed to make a piece of chicken fall on your now dirty pants.

“Goddamn (y/n), you sure you ok, want to get some fresh air or something”

It was Changbin putting his arm around you for the second time today.

In front of you, Jisung let out a not-so-quiet snort.

“No, if fine. Just a bit tired, thanks Bin.”

Changbin's heart started hammering in his chest when you called him that. Of course, he was aware you were calling him that only as payback for him insisting on calling you (n/n) but it didn't stop the butterflies in his stomach every time that word left your lips.

It was something he only allowed you to call him.

This had the gears in Jisung's head spinning. Even though you had a nickname for him too, you liked to call him Sung, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

“Well welcome to the clumsy-ass club,” he snorted. “Only ultra-clumsy people like you, me, and Iris are welcome.”

“Hey, Jisung! I heard that you son of a biscuit.” Iris chortled. “My point, sugar.”

You couldn't hold in your laughter at that remark.

“Sugar?! You really outdid yourself, Sung.”

Jisung beamed at the sound of your laughter. His ears perked when you called him that but the cherry on top was to hear you laugh. And to know he was the cause of it made him feel even better.

------------------

You hummed as you walked up the stairs to reach your floor. You passed the neighboring class and saw Chan inside. You stuck your head in the doorframe and waved.

“Hi Channie.”

“Oh hi (y/n).” He waved back and whispered in a much lower voice: “And please don't call me Channie in public, it makes me sound weak.” he laughed lightly.

“Right, sorry. Forgot you are now big scary Chris. I'll remember it.” You replied in a half-serious tone.

“Stop it, you know I didn't mean it like that. Chan is fine,” he whined.

“Sure thing, Chris.” you winked. “Gotta go, toodles.” You left without looking back once.

“Holy shit hyung, who was this goddess?” Jeongin joked.

“She's an old friend.” Came his curt reply.

“Sure looked like you'd want more.” Seungmin’s savage remark cut through the air.

“Well hyung, she's way out of your league, remember.” Jeongin cackled before exiting the classroom.

“Hey, show some respect you little rascal.” was all Chan managed to retort before running after him leaving Seungmin to chuckle to himself.

----------------

You entered the almost empty classroom and sat down in your seat. Deciding you wanted to listen to some music, you put on headphones.

Looking through your playlist you settled on Broken Compass. A song made by the mysterious SoundCloud trio of your school who also broadcasted on the school radio every Wednesday.

Nobody knew who they were but ultimately all could agree that they were talented as fuck.

They put out great songs almost every week making most think they were some secret music machine.

“Whatcha listening to?”

You recognized that voice immediately. “Good morning to you too Bin.”

“Hello princess. So tell me - what are you listening to?”

“Princess? Seriously? I'm listening to Broken Compass.” “Ohh, is that a song by 3racha?” He inquired. “Yeah, it's one of my favorites actually.” you smiled.

“So - who's your fav-” he was cut mid-sentence as your friends appeared in the doorframe.

“Good morning lovebirds. Changbin, get out of my seat!” Mei hollered from the door, smacking him on the head.

Changbin groaned, visibly annoyed. He was ecstatic to find out you listened to 3racha. He was this close to find out, which one of them was your favourite.

“Shut your trap Mei, what is your problem?”

Mei has yet to forgive Changbin for the Hyunjin incident. You understood why she was pissed but didn't have it in you to remain angry at the boy however shitty his apology was.

You just didn't want to watch another fight unfold early in the morning so you went ahead and played peacemaker again.

“Guys, no need to argue early in the morning. We still have Mrs. Choi's chem class so please calm down before I hyperventilate or something.” you muttered.

“Yeah, sorry (n/n).” he gave you a soft smile and went to his seat.

---------------------

The next day when you were entering your classroom with Changbin and Felix, you couldn't help but notice a half a dozen or so chairs were gone and the box usually containing chalk only held dust.

“What the hell? Where the fuck did all our chairs go?!” Changbin cursed.

“How much are we missing? Five, six?” Felix counted.

“I'll go ask class one, you can go down the hallway and see if any other people have the same problem,” you said determined.

“Ok princess.”

You didn't stay long enough to see the questioning look Felix gave the other boy at the nickname he used.

“Hey Chan, do you perhaps have any spare chairs, it looks like ours are mis-” you didn't get to finish your question as you entered the neighboring class, noticing that Chan and his two friends weren't there.

“Oh hello there babydoll, looking for someone?” a tall guy with broad shoulders inquired.

You shivered at the name he used and averted your eyes. “Um, y-yeah, some chairs are missing from our classroom and I wanted to ask a friend if you have any spare ones since ours are gone…” you whimpered, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so weak.

He slowly walked to you making you go back as well until you felt the cold wall make contact with your skin.

“Oh, I see,” he leaned closer, almost pressing you against the wall, “well you see doll, Chan isn't here right now but how about you stay for a while. We can chat a bit. Does that sound good?” he rasped next to your ear.

“Yeah NO. I will get going, thank you very much.” you replied hoping your voice sounded steady enough.

You put your hands against his toned chest and pushed with all your might.

Except he didn't budge a single fucking inch.

He smirked looking down on you as you visibly gulped, looking around if anyone would help you. To your dismay, everyone looked too scared to say anything, most giving you looks of pity.

You subconsciously shut your eyes letting out a quiet whimper that didn't go unnoticed by the boy above you. Suddenly you heard some noise from the hallway, hoping someone would help you with your predicament ...

next chapter >>

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Note

34 with roman 🥺

(remember when i talked about a nanny!au? well... here it is. somewhere in an alternate universe...)

the feel of fingers brushing together by accident

sorry if roman is a bit ooc

You sat at the breakfast bar with Nadia, your arm outstretched creimously on the countertop as you watched her fumble through arithmetic. A bowl of Hershey Kisses sat between you both, crinkled balls of their foil scattered about. Your temple rested against the crook of your elbow as you fussed with the tin, waiting for Nadia to need any assistance.

“You could be cleaning,” Peter quipped from the sink.

“You’re the only old maid around here. I have better things to do,” you countered back, as you flattened a wrapper and began to peel it apart.

“Scrolling through Neiman’s and sleeping ‘til noon?”

“Precisely,” you looked up to grin at him in time to see him roll his eyes.

Nadia gave a little giggle at the encounter and you threw her a playful wink.

Most late afternoons into early evenings looked just like this one. You with Nadia at the counter as she did school work, and Peter wandering on the fringe of your conversations as he tidied and cooked dinner. It had felt strange at first, how quickly you had created such an effortless routine that rarely held hiccups or upsets with the two, who were supposedly notoriously closed off and unaccepting. But, it had seemed to be fate, that you had been the missing gear to their unit that was needed to have everything run smoothly. You were extraordinarily lucky to have earned both their favors, as well as Nadia’s father and Peter’s stringent boss’.

You rolled a discarded foil ball between your fingers before promptly flicking it at Peter’s head. Nadia burst into giggles once more and your heart swelled at the noise. Peter gripped the sink and turned to look at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping her with her homework? Or are the concepts a little too lofty for you?” he snarked.

“It’s third grade math, Peter,” you scoffed and fell back on your arm causally.

“I know it is,”

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at his back. Nadia began to laugh again but you poked her with your Manolo, a silent signal to keep quiet. She obliged, but her lips still held a wide grin.

It was always a beautiful sight, her smile. A beaming expression that you rarely saw from her father, but often in photographs of her mother. Their upper lips curled the same way, which only widened her plump lips that she gained from her father. Her blue eyes crinkled at their corners and sparkled when she looked at you head on. Her smile was a wonder of the world, and after you informed her of this, the action that used to be next to impossible to achieve, happened regularly.

“How many times does eight go into one hundred ten?” Nadia asked you, moving her pencil so you could see her long division problem.

“Ok, c’mon, you got this. Start small, you know how many times eight goes into eleven right?”

“But do you?” Peter muttered, just loud enough so you would have no trouble hearing him.

“Quit, dish bitch,” you picked up another foil ball and tossed it at him.

You heard him chuckle under his breath.

“Once,” Nadia stated.

“Great! Now put the one there, and the eight below,” you guided and Nadia did so.

You both worked out the rest of the problem, and only one short curse word was said by you by the end. You were never good at long division, or math in general, so a worksheet filed with even basic division and fractions was a nightmare to you. Maybe Peter’s jab had some merit after all…

When you and Nadia were on the tail end of problems, with your phone calculator out and helping on certain equations, the distinct sound of a key entering the front door’s lock disrupted the little girl.

“Daddy!” Nadia exclaimed, the problem you were both painstakingly working at was immediately forgotten, as she rushed toward the door to greet her father.

Roman opened the door just as she reached it, compensating quite well for a surprise rogue nine year old jumping into his arms.

His hair was handsomely disheveled, likely from running his nimble fingers through it during moments of stress in his day. His suit jacket was discarded, the top button of his dress shirt undone, and his silk tie loosened to reveal more of her perfect alabaster skin. His broad shoulders fought the seams of his shirt and you could tell that he had recently run his sinful pink tongue over his plump bottom lip. He looked positively good enough to eat.

“Daddy is right,” you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning up the Hershey wrappers to save yourself from combusting over your boss’s good looks.

“Yes, but not yours,” Peter said, coming over to help you.

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” you replied with an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, and many have,” he said knowingly.

You pinched his wrist with manicured nails and he smirked at you. It was no secret the droves of women who lined up to have a chance at landing Roman’s attentions. While many earned an entrance exam, none were asked back. You would sometimes see them with an exaggerated pouts on their lips the morning after as they trudged down the stairs and out the door. You couldn’t blame them for their theatrics or bad moods, however. When Roman Godfrey was on the line, any and all hissy fits were accepted and expected.

Roman entered the kitchen with Nadia perched on his hip, his jacket and suitcase deposited at the door.

“Evening, Ms. (Y/L/N),” he greeted professionally, as he sat his daughter on the counter next to you.

“Evening, Mr. Godfrey,” you greeted melodramatically, something Roman shook his head at.

You and Roman had never had a strictly employer-employee relationship, but you supposed that’s why you fit in so well in the Godfrey home. Since the day of your interview you were warm, practical, and up front with him and his family. You were nurturing, but firm. You treated Nadia and Roman like you would your own family and friends, and that had made you stick out from the crowd. As much as Roman needed a nanny for his daughter, he needed a friend for himself. He needed a maternal figure for Nadia, and he desperately needed a woman in his life he could trust wasn’t after anything insidious. And you fit all the requirements in spades.

“When will dinner be ready?”

“Twenty minutes, give or take,” Peter replied, peaking into the oven to check on the chicken.

“I’ll be in my study until then,” Roman replied, as he retrieved his suitcase and then walked back toward his office.

The sound of the door shutting made you and Nadia sigh. Her little face was void of any more smiles it seemed.

“Hey,” you reached out and gave her spindly leg a squeeze, “how about we just cheat on the few we have left and watch some TV until dinner?”

“We aren’t supposed to cheat.”

“Sweetheart, I promise you that you will never need to do any of this mess in your head again. Calculators are the future -- have been the future! I’m sure when you’re in college they will be implanted in your arm and cheating will be encouraged.”

“Really?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged and Nadia crept back over to her worksheet and moved into her seat, “we’ll get your dad and all his scientists right on it.”

Dinners mainly consisted of Nadia speeding through a book of topics while you and Roman desperately tried to keep up. She was a sociable little girl and always had a story to tell from recess or gym class. She loved playing make believe on the playground, but didn’t love how her peers wouldn’t follow the strict rules she had set up for them. This was often a bone of contention for her, her brows furrowing in frustration as she explained a quarrel she’d had at the slide that day.

But tonight was different, tonight all she could do was talk about the following day.

Nadia’s third grade class was going to the Natural History Museum on a field trip and she had been anticipating the trip eagerly for months. Not only because of the normal excitement all children held for field trips, but because this one would be chaperoned by her favorite person in the world: her father.

You had convinced Roman at the beginning of the school year to sign up to attend the field trip with Nadia. He had hemmed and hawed about it for a week before he reluctantly signed the permission slip and gave it to his giddy daughter to hand in to her teacher. He would never admit it, but you knew that you were the one to push him over the edge into agreeing.

“This will be one of those memories that will make her smile for the rest of her life. I swear, if my dad had ever come with me on a field trip, I would have never forgotten it.”

And maybe it was because you had both bonded over absent parents in the past; or maybe it was the look that he often saw on your face when he had a nice moment with Nadia, the look of a little girl trapped behind your eyes, longing for her father to love her like that; or maybe it was because he knew it would make you happy; or maybe he just really believed you. It didn’t matter in the end, because he had agreed and made his little girl very happy.

“Jenny Krinkles brother had Mrs. Bridge last year, and she said that he said that there is an exhibit where you get to touch all this weird slimy stuff, and I’m not sure why it’s there, but Jenny’s brother said it’s fun! So, daddy, I want to make sure we get to see that, ok? I think you’ll think it’s fun, too,” she prattled on.

Nadia was too busy reiterating what Jenny’s brother had said about the dinosaur skeletons to notice how her father had become stock still and how his eyes were staring off into space.

You settled your fork down next to your plate and watched him with a worried expression as his jaw tightened and his eyes bulged.

“Are you alright, Mr. Godfrey?” you asked quietly, in a hope to not startle him.

Roman’s stare switched over to you in a mechanical way, his lips formed a hard line as his eyes bore into your skull.

“Daddy? Are you feeling sick?” Nadia chimed in, now noticing her father’s strange mannerisms and paling complexion, as well.

“Yes, I-- I feel fine,” Roman dropped his silverware with a soft clatter onto his plate, “I feel fine.”

You just nodded, but ducked to catch his gaze as he looked away. You wanted him to see your concern and know that you were only there to help.

“Are you sure? You can’t be sick, you’ll miss the museum, daddy and -” Roman cut off his daughter before she could spiral.

“Nadia, I’m fine. I am, but… something has came up at work last minute…” and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, it was clear what he was getting at.

Nadia’s little face crumbled into pure anguish as she burst into hysterical tears. She pushed away the remnants of her dinner and fled the table without a word. While this reaction might have looked like an exaggeration to an outsider, it made sense to you. Nadia rarely got to spend one on one time with her father, it was why she was so reluctant of your hiring and why she sprang to action the second she heard him come home. She loved her father almost to a fault, and when his promises fell through (which they often did) it hurt her a thousand times over. She wanted her father’s attention so desperately and got it so rarely. Not to say that Roman wasn’t a good father, he was just a busy one. A busy single father running a multibillion dollar company.

Roman called out weakly for his daughter, but the resounding thud of her door being slammed was louder.

“Fuck!” he raged, pounding the heel of his hand to the table top, causing the dishes to quake.

“You couldn’t push it off for one day?” you admonished.

“I don’t fucking need this from you, too.” Roman snapped viciously.

“I’ll deal with you later,” you bit back, as you took the napkin from your lap and threw it on your plate.

“You’re not my fucking mother.”

“And thank Christ I’m not,” you spat back at him, before you ran up the stairs and after Nadia.

After over an hour of coddling the sobbing nine year old and snuggling her to sleep, you carefully left her under thick blankets and in the comfort of her Barbie night light, and went to find Roman.

Unsurprisingly, you found him in his office, one a desk lamp illuminating the dark room. His tie had now been completely abandoned and two more buttons had become undone to reveal the ribbed undershirt he wore. Roman held a cigarette and a tumbler of scotch in one hand, and his forehead in the other.

“What’s the damage?” he asked in a small voice.

You walked slowly into the room, “She thinks you hate her.”

“Fuck.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you stood in front of him, “She’s an emotional little girl. And you bailing on her constantly doesn’t help.”

“So, you’re here to give me a fucking parenting lecture? Because if that’s your goal, I think I’ll pass,” Roman replied with a scowl.

“But I’m so good at lectures! Can’t you just humor me?”

You saw Roman’s tense expression falter a bit at your banter, which was silent permission for you to go sit on the corner of his desk.

“You need to remember your priorities, Mr. Godfrey. Work is work, and I know it’s important to you, but your daughter should always take precedence,” you said.

Roman was so tall that while you would be looking down at any regular man in a desk chair from your perch, you were eye level with him. In these moments when Nadia was away and it was just the two of you in his office; him in his chair and you firmly planted on the desktop; it was easy to forget the outside world existed. It was easy for you to forget a lot of things when Roman was around.

“I work so I can give her the best life possible. If that isn’t showing her that she takes precedence, I don’t know what will,” Roman argued, before he gulped from his tumbler.

“What a boring, easy answer to give.”

“It’s the truth.” he griped.

“Maybe it is, but it’s not the right answer.”

“Yeah? Since when was this a test?” Roman scoffed.

“Since the minute you had her. Parenting is always a test,” you shrugged and Roman let out a humorless chuckle.

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth…”

You both let out twin sighs. Roman took a drag from his cigarette before he looked at you. The way he looked at you when he felt weak, helpless and in need of guidance. He had once told you in confidence (and many sheets to the wind) that you were the only person in his life he felt comfortable being vulnerable with.

I don’t know what we would do without you. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he had slurred as you guided him to the master bedroom.

You still hadn’t forgotten how the weight of his body around yours felt, or the way he had stared at your lips just a few moments too long, or his musky cologne that had embedded itself into your pores for days.

“You’re smart, Mr. Godfrey. You’re gonna pass whatever messed up test raising a kid is. You just need to apply yourself and get your priorities straight,” you nudged his shin with the tip of your heel, much like you had done to Nadia earlier, “Daughter first. Work second.”

“It’s not that simple…” Roman said. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan.

“Since when is anything simple?”

There was another lull between the two of you, and you were suddenly incredibly aware of how short your skirt had become from your seat. You tugged the sides down your thighs the best you could. You didn’t notice the yearning look Roman gave you as your painted fingers ran over your nylon covered skin. When you looked back at him, his eyes were once again tied with yours.

“How do you know all this?” he asked, lifting his chin gently.

You let out a deep sigh, “I just watched my parents do all the wrong things, so I can only guess the opposites are right.”

“Leighann seems like she turned out all right,” he replied and you smiled.

Leighann, your younger sister, had been reared by you and you alone. Your parents had fucked off for most of her childhood and it left you to take care of her. Roman of course knew this, as it had come up on your application. He had a knack for remembering important facets of your life that always made your stomach twitch with affection.

“She did, didn’t she? So, you better take my word for it and start getting your act together. You don’t want her to turn out like me, do you?” as if to prove your point, you stuck out a hand and wiggled two fingers for Roman to pass you his cigarette.

He looked at you with an amused expression, but did so anyway. He held the smoke by the filter and you took it carefully. When you brought it to your lips, you could taste his fingers and his skin. As you blew out the smoke in a smooth stream from your puckered lips, you watched as Roman’s smirk grew. He widened his legs and reclined back in his seat to take you in. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about grabbing your boss by the wrist and popping his fingers into your mouth, but the way he was looking at you was so primal and seductive, you couldn’t help it.

You motioned for him to take the cigarette back before your mind talked you into doing something you would regret.

Roman leaned forward to take back his cigarette, his elbows coming to rest on his knees.

“I can think of worse people for her to end up like,” his voice husked.

As you passed the cigarette back to him, you felt the light touch of his calloused fingertips against your own. You hoped Roman didn’t hear the way your breath caught in your chest or the small shiver the touch gave you.

Roman made a show of taking the cigarette back to his plush lips, setting the filter between them and sucking deep into his lungs. All while his green eyes watched you with purpose.

“You taste like cherries,” Roman said as smoke billowed from his lips.

Your thighs pressed together on their own accord to silence the aching between them.

“So, what are you going to do about the field trip?” you changed the subject without acknowledgment. If you had, you knew it would end up with you on your knees and Mr. Godfrey’s cock in your mouth. And as much as you fantasized about it, you really loved your job, and you couldn’t let your sexual attraction to your boss ruin it.

“If it was Friday insead of tomorrow, I could make it work. But…”

“Then you’re making it up to her, y’know? This weekend: daddy-daughter day. No but’s about it. You will spend the entire day with her to make up for being an ass about tomorrow,” you chided.

“I can do that,” Roman nodded.

“Good, because I’m serious, Mr. Godfrey. She will remember this moment, you need to outshine the heartbreak with a day of happiness.”

“Ok.”

“If you schedule anything for Saturday or claim you are needed at The Tower, I swear to God that I will march down there and force you home myself, got it?” you said, standing up, just barely able to hover over him now.

“I’d love to see you do that,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Hardy har har,” you waved your hand flippantly, before you began to walk back toward the door.

“Wait,” Roman called, “what about tomorrow?”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Who's gonna chaperone?”

“Oh, I will,” you said with a shrug, “gives me another opportunity to piss off all those stuck up private school moms anyway.”

Roman’s smirk morphed into a grin, “They’re just jealous.”

“Don’t I know it.”

You smiled at him one last time before you started to exit once more.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” you turned to see Roman had stood from his desk and was standing only a pace or two away, “I-- well, thank you. I want to say thank you.”

“It’s my job,” you laughed good naturedly, hoping to shuck off the tension that had begun to build again now that he was close to you.

“Still,” he said sincerely, inching nearer, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Godfrey,” you peered up at him with wide eyes as he towered over you.

There were his eyes darting to stare at your lips, there was his delicious cologne infiltrating your senses, there was his radiating warmth pricking at your skin and erupting goosebumps across your neck.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

He seemed to be battling with something, his mouth opening just to close again. His brow furrowed briefly, before relaxing once more with a sigh.

“Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You ignored the supreme disappointment that quelled in your belly as you gave a strained smile.

“Good night, Mr. Godfrey.” and with that, you left.

feedback is always appreciated

#roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey au #hemlock grove au #nanny au #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: royal au, magic au, hopelessly romantic, fluff, dashes of angst, taehyung is a brat but in a fun way, y/n is babie, could kinda be considered love at first sight?

Warning(s): toxic royality (the king), brief mentions of isolation/selling of servants, one mean lady who whacks y/n with a dowel rod

Words: 8.2k

Series | One-shot | Two-Shot | Drabble | [Rated: T ]

Summary: You were born with magic. Born by two perfectly normal human parents, you were born in a bright light that others considered cursed. With your father walking out and your mother abandoning you, you were sold to the royal palace in the Lisha Kingdom who had heard of your magic. You were handed over to them not as a person, but as a prisoner. At the age of 5, the king placed you in magic binding items and placed a mask over your mouth, keeping your cursed words of sorcery locked away.

Now, his eldest son who had been living abroad from far off kingdoms to the seven seas- learning and experiencing the world as he knew it- returns to the palace to take his place as the crowned prince and Lisha’s future king. What he can’t seem to wrap his head around, however; is the beautiful servant girl who is always wearing a mask and no matter how much he talks to her, she never talks back.

a/n: so, this is something I started late last year and while at the time, i was super excited to start it, as time passed I let it sit and then when I came back to it, I had no idea what on earth to do with it. So, instead of pressuring myself into something I wouldn’t be happy with, I dusted up the draft I had and I am posting this as an open? unfinished? piece. I have no future intentions of continuing it, even if the ending is so open with room for questions, I simply don’t have the answers. I’m trying to be more fair to myself when it comes to my work and not pressuring myself into writing a story I won’t be happy with. That goes along with not stressing out either. Nonetheless! I hope that what I did get completed was worth the read! ily <3

“I sure hope you are not planning on sneaking off; now are you, Your Highness?” The prince froze mid-step as he was previously attempting to leave his carriage entourage, but got caught by the temporary attendant to make sure he got back to the palace in the process. “We only just entered the capital, what could you possibly be going off to do?”

The platinum-haired prince turned around with an over-dramatic swing and pitiful stomp of his feet on the carriage step. Built with soft yet sturdy muscles from his days traveling and sailing at sea, his tanned skin was the perfect shade to swoon anyone who looked at him. Eyes big and blue in color- a rare trait to have such bright hair and eyes in the royal family.

“I haven’t been home in years!” The prince countered with a pitched fit. “I want to explore before I go to the castle. What’s so wrong with that?”

His attendant only shook his head. “I see your time abroad spoiled you rotten.” The prince inwardly scowled. It did not. “You need to head to the palace and greet your father- the king- immediately. He is no patient man.”

The prince rolled his eyes. He highly doubted his father had changed. Even when he was a small child and still lived with his father in the palace walls, he could remember his strict and blunt father. The stereotype of royalty was upheld to a new level when the focus was put on Lisha’s king. The prince stepped back into the carriage interior before plopping himself across the plush bench. Arms folded behind his head and one of his boot-clad feet kicked up across from him on the opposite bench as he huffed.

“Prince Taehyung! Your attitude is rather uncalled for.”

“Why stand around bickering about it? I thought we had to go see the king immediately?” Taehyung mocked as his leg that hung off the bench bounced against the velvet in some unpatterned rhythm that played the tune of annoyance. The attendant kept his itching argument to himself remembering it wasn't just some bratty kid he was talking to, but the crown prince of Lisha.

He just bowed his head before shutting the carriage door. Soon, Taehyung jostled across his bench when the carriage took off moving forward. The sound of clopping hooves paired with the sound of wheel crunched dirt and stone.

An impatiently sat hour later and Taehyung had been taken into the palace ground, met with his father- as pleasant as that was- for the smallest amount of time used for a visit. Taehyung questioned if it was truly necessary in the first place and then was promptly sent off. Not having nowhere specifically to go to other than his quarters later, he just wandered.

Walking around with dark trousers and a shirt so white and worn it was nearly sheer and obviously two sizes too big as it’s thin fabric puffed as it stayed tucked into his bottoms. The summer was much harsher inland than it was out in the open seas and he can say he had quite the distaste for warm weather.

As he wandered and familiarized himself with his home again, he heard gossip from this way and that. Some about royal unfairness- a fair complaint if Taehyung was honest. Other about pains that began to come with their growing age. And a lot about ‘her’- she never being named. From what he could gather form just passing words of his eavesdropping, someone was employed as a castle servant and not well-liked by her peers. Intrigued, Taehyung finally had a goal in all his aimless walking.

Put his charisma and people skills to work and find the ‘not-very-well-liked’ servant girl.

It was noon by the time Taehyung felt like giving up already. He had spent hours walking around in circles and even talking to a few staff circles but turned up empty-handed to figure out just who this unliked girl was. He stood on the second story of the west wing’s balcony as the summer air was as stagnant as a puddle of warm water. Feeling his sweat roll down his back, he let out a small yelp when something touched the back of his neck.

Jumping back and away to his right, he held his neck and looked to see what touched him. Expecting to see some sort of critter on the ground, he instinctively looked down. Instead of a rodent or bug, he saw a pair of feet. Looking up, he was soon making eye contact with a pair of large- rather pretty- eyes.

His eye shot back down to your feet. Wearing no shoes, but two anklets around each ankle, you were already an odd one to Taehyung. Looking you over, you looked normal, yet not. Dressed in a skirt and corset with a long-sleeved worn maids shirt, it looked like palace work clothing. You wore no gloves as others did and wore a set of two bracelets around your wrists that matched the ones on your ankles. Hair pulled back off your neck completely to try and outwit the heat, Taehyung looked at the mask covering the lower half of your face.

Looking down at your hands, he saw you held a small handkerchief.

“So that’s what touched me!” He exclaimed, letting out a breath of air- relieved it wasn’t a critter after all. Even with all his time out in the open, he still got freaked out at the initial idea of anything creepy-crawly running around on his body. “Sorry for the noise, I hope I didn’t scare you?” He asked, apologizing for how he scampered away from you so suddenly.

You just smiled as your eyes pushed up and shook your head. Taehyung tilted his head a fraction.

“You’re… not a talker are you?” You shook your head again. “What is it? Shy or something?” You shook your head again before you pulled something from a small pouch that was strapped to your side. A small little notepad and a worn, wooden pencil. Scribbling on it with speed to impress the best writer, you were soon holding your notebook in front of Taehyung’s face.

‘I’m not allowed to talk.’

“Not… allowed? Who made that rule up, that’s just ridiculous.” He breathed out.

‘It’s true!’ You wrote as you pointed at it for emphasis as he could see your cheek puff from under your mask.

“But, you can talk, can’t you? Just not allowed to?” You nodded. Taehyung watched as you started scribbling again.

‘I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you visiting the capital?’

“Oh, no- nothing like that.” Taehyung rubbed his neck. “You see, I’m actually-”

“Y/n!” You jumped as you whirled around and saw an older servant at the corner of the balcony- not too far from you and Taehyung. She stomped her way around the corner and to your side, lightly swatting your bare leg with a thin, wooden dowel. “I’m certain you haven’t finished your tasks! You cannot delay, the king expects results and you- cursed child- are hindering them!” You bowed in silent fret before straightening your back.

You turned to Taehyung as quickly as possible, placed your handkerchief in his open hand and pointed to his neck. You fanned yourself as if telling him ‘it’s hot, take care of yourself’ before you rushed off with another thwack of wood to your calf.

Taehyung didn’t even have the chance to get your name- although he heard the servant woman say it. He couldn’t tell you his name, or who he was and here he stood. On the second floor balcony with your white and pink embroidered handkerchief. He wasn’t even able to scold the servant for whacking you with a dowel before she scampered off behind you. It must’ve stung on your skin.

Taehyung was a young man, but as he remembered you writing on your book and how your eyes looked, he chuckled like a child in puppy love. He looked at the handkerchief and folded it neatly before tucking it into the pocket of his trousers. As long as he had that one piece of cloth, he would see you again anyways. He had to return it, he was a gentleman after all.

Xxx

The next morning, Taehyung snuck out of his room before any palace official came to usher him off to his royal princely duties. Walking around in a pair of loose silk trousers and a black button-down of the same fine silk fabric, he padded around in the gardens. The fresh air reminded him of his time outside the palace, he already missed the memories of days prior.

His steps halted when he saw someone crouched by a line of rose beaded shrubs. A pair of shears in their hand as they snipped roses from the bush and placed them into the basket at their side. He smiled when he saw their bare skin and anklets. He walked up behind you before speaking.

“What are you doing out here?” You jumped, shears falling out of your grip and stumbling back onto your rear-end. Looking up and behind your shoulder, you saw Taehyung biting back laughter. Instead of rolling your eyes, he could see them bend into crescents and your cheeks push up under your mask. Lifting the small notepad and pencil at your side up into your lap, you begin scribbling.

Taehyung moved to your side and squatted down at your left. You were soon showing him the notepad.

‘Good morning.’

Taehyung waved cutely at you. “Good morning back. Now, about the shrub?” He pointed to the flowers before you started writing again.

‘I heard the prince came into the castle after a really long time yesterday. I was going to place a basket of flowers as a welcome home for him outside his room. Anonymously of course.’

“Oh? So, you don’t know who the prince is?” You shook your head. “Well!” He perked up. “I’ve heard he’s pretty handsome. Better watch out, cute girls like you could totally be his type.” You just shook your head, denying his little outburst as he just giggled at you. Taehyung hopped closer and picked up your sheers. “So, how do you know which ones to cut?”

You pointed to a bloomed, vibrant rose. You motioned with your hand to find bright, big petaled stems. Following your pointed finger to each bloom he should cut, he snipped roses and placed them into the basket you didn’t yet know was actually for him.

When you finished, you took your shears and the basket and stood. Taehyung offered to walk you back to your room before your royal servant duties began. You allowed him to and you both were on your way. Taehyung did most- all- of the talking. You tried expressing conversation with your hand waves and gestures. Taehyung had a bit too much fun trying to decipher them like a game of charades.

“Hey,” he called when the two of you just walked in silence. “Why can’t you talk?” You looked down and pulled your notepad out.

‘The king hates my voice.’

“Why? You're always barefoot and always wear a mask? Are you sick?”

‘No.’ You started to write, but scribbled something out and wrote something else instead. ‘I don’t think I can tell you.’

“Is it a secret?”

‘Well, no. But, sometimes it’s hard to admit.’

Taehyung nodded and placed his hand on your head. “Sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to upset you.” You only shook your head. “I look forward to seeing your flowers after you’ve arranged them.” You rose your brow before you pointed at your room door, arriving at your room finally.

He let you in and practically danced back to his room. He stopped in his tracks and pressed his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose realizing he once again neglected to tell you his name.

“Next time!” He shouted to no one, promising himself that next time he wouldn’t forget as he marched back to his room.

Xxx

You entered your room that you shared with another servant girl. She often got along with you and didn’t alienate you as others did. Walking in, she was already dressed and awake. She was quick to ask you where you’ve been as you’re not normally allowed to go anywhere without permission or supervision. Royal orders.

You showed her the basket to her before shoving your note in your face.

‘Do you know some guy with light hair who is allowed to walk around the castle in pajamas?’

“What? Some nut-job in his pajamas?” You nodded, lightly flapping your notepad at her for calling him a nut-job. “You’re making it up in a fit of loneliness. Oh god,” you huffed, throwing your notepad down before moving to sit and place flower after flower from your basket to a glass, aqua vase. “The silent treatment, huh?” She teased. She soon left to start her morning.

You waited. Unable to do anything until the sun began to finally rise. The king refused to let you wander the castle unless it was daytime. You had planned to finish the flowers and hoped your supervisor would allow you to deliver them to the prince’s door before your work started. You sighed, doubting it would happen. You soon dressed in your work clothes, took the small vase and left- deciding to take a trip to the prince’s quarters first then meet your supervisor.

Trotting down the hall, you rushed to place the flowers and then run back to your room to wait for your supervisor, hoping not to be caught. Though, luck didn’t seem to be favorable with you in the grand scheme of things.

“Y/n!” The voice of the old woman that is your superior echoed behind you. You immediately stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to meet her angry stomps approaching you with a glare that pinned you down. You unconsciously held the vase closer to your chest. “What in the world are you doing? Heading down the royal halls of our royal family. On top of it all, unauthorized!” You shrunk under her scolding.

“What’s going on here?” A voice calmly addressed behind you. Looking back, it was Taehyung behind you. He had changed his clothes since earlier. Black pants with a white long-sleeved shirt and black vest. Hair now parted and brushed. His fingers decorated in rings and ears pierced with small hoops. Black boots covering his feet.

“Ah-” your superior stuttered. “I- your highness!” you whipped your head back to the old woman. “I apologize for the commotion so early! Y/n here was simply disobeying a set of very specific rules and-”

“I am only hearing excuses.” His voice was sharp in contrast to the warm way he spoke to you earlier on. He grabbed your elbow lightly, getting your attention. He smiled at the red peeking out from under your mask. “You were going to give those flowers to the prince, yes?” You slowly nodded. “Well, can I have them?”

You looked at the flower vase and then back up. You turned around in three clumsy, unsure steps before presenting them to Taehyung. He laughed lowly, graciously removing the vase from your grip into his.

“Thank you, Y/n. I, Taehyung of Lisha, truly appreciate it.” You nodded. He called for your ear as he shot your supervisor a look of ‘stay back and hush’. “Come meet me later, I want to talk more is possible. Okay?” He whispered as you nodded again before you were pulled off to finally start work.

Taehyung took the flowers you gave to him inside his room, placing them in the sunlight on the small side table beside his bed. He laughed smittenly as he poked at the flowers' soft petals. At least he was finally able to tell you his name this time.

Xxx

Taehyung had forgotten how suffocating it could be to be inside the palace. It may be grand and large in scale and size, but the constant hovering and directions as to what and what not to do as prince kept him clicking his tongue. He’d find himself muttering prayers of patience to get through just the formalities. He may have been gone for years, but he didn’t forget how to be princely.

He crossed paths with his father a few times in the halls, only stopping to lower his head to him in respect as he just kept on going, his attendant in tow. Taehyung hissed at his father’s back each time- not even granted a nod in return. He wasn’t sure why, but since knowing that his father hated your voice, he grew ten times more annoyed towards him.

In fact, you occupied many of his thoughts of the day. He just met you, yet he seemed undeniably drawn to you for reasons he wasn’t sure of. Was it because you were dressed so differently than the other servants? Or perhaps you had certain guidelines and rules to follow under the king's directions?

He was currently sitting in the private library with his temporary attendant as they droned on about something or another. Taehyung- much to his aides jargon- sat slumped forward, elbow on the small round table he sat at and cheek cupped in his palm. Utterly bored, he finally found a chance to speak among a minuscule break in his attendants lecture.

“What is the story behind the serving maid with the mask?” He voiced finally. The question brought his lecturing aide to silence before they cleared their throat.

“Your Highness, you needn’t worry-”

“I’m expecting a proper answer,” Taehyung fought. “Do not run me in circles. I will just simply ask about her again.” His eyes kept staring off to nowhere, focusing on nothing in particular. His jaw snapping shut each time he spoke as his palm pushed into his chin from slouching. He heard his aide sigh.

“As you wish.” Taehyung almost tutted with a snide smirk with his clear victory over the barely started discussion- but he refrained. “She was sold to His Majesty as a child.” Taehyung’s heart dropped to his gut, although his face was as calm and unchanging as before. He has had much practice in keeping a bored expression to hide his true emotions from others. “She was sold on the condition the king suppress her abilities because her parents simply did not want a cursed child.”

Taehyung lifted his head to his aide for the first time that afternoon. “Excuse me? Abilities and curses? Are you pulling my leg after I advised you not to?” In actuality, he knew what his attendant was referring to. Magician’s and sorcery.

An exceedingly rare breed of human. He's met only a few before in the past during his travels abroad, but the way this attendant spoke about you was angering him. Pushing him towards a sour mood. Like mentioning your beyond normal abilities would cause some sort of bad karma.

“No, Highness. That servant girl is under constant surveillance and strict restriction as ordered by His Majesty- your father. Every accessory she wears is a restriction.” Taehyung remembers how you explained that the king hated your voice. His brow dipped. His father hated your voice because you had magic? No, that can’t be it. The king must be frightened of your voice- the voice that should be free to recite spells because it was your birthright.

“And that woman’s mask?” Taehyung asked. “What of that?”

“It is a final resort to keep her silent. She cannot use or speak of magic so long as she wears it. That is the royal order. She is not even able to remove it herself, only royal blood may do so.” Taehyung’s brow ticked back up. Only the Royal bloodline can remove it, huh? He bit back a snide smirk.

“Interesting,” he mumbled. The attendant was pleased to finally drop the topic altogether.

The prince continued to partially listen to his ‘catch up’ lessons on palace do’s and don'ts; however, in the grand scheme of things he was always wondering when or if he’d get the chance to run into you again somewhere. He felt guilty for being the son of the man who is keeping you from reaching your true potential as a sorceress. He was the only son of Lisha’s king and you were his caged animal.

The magic users he had spoken to before in his past had always told him the same thing when he asked how magic felt. It felt like the ocean breeze at dawn and that breeze turned into a cold, harsh storm when the magic was gone. Without magic they felt suffocated. The torment of magic repression was enough to bring some to the brink of insanity. However, he wondered how you felt about it inside. Restricted for so long, were you in pain?

Did you even know what magic felt like? Could you remember from your childhood before it was pushed down into the pit of your stomach and smothered?

The moment he had the opportunity to slip away from his forced shadow, he promptly took it with haste. Ducking out and rushing off, he was able to camp out in an alcove before the coast was clear for him to wander again. He walked with a sense of near urgency as he hoped to run into you as he’s done before. Or perhaps meet his father in the halls, that would suffice as well.

Heading down to the royal halls where the royal families rest in their private rooms, Taehyung quickly slipped into the room that used to belong to his mother and former Queen of Lisha.

Just the air in the room and how she had decorated it with vases and painting in the past brought the weight on Taehyung’s chest off. The room had been untouched just as he had wished- a sort of tomb of remembrance in her honor. She had not lived past 40 before illness and improper- obviously botched- treatment took hold of her. Leaving her son behind, he still missed her every morning when he woke to the sun.

He opened the permanently unlocked wardrobe and wooden trunk in the room. Revealing dresses, corsets, hair pieces, accessories, jewels and nightwear with the occasional pair of trousers- however improper for a lady they were. The trunk had shoes that he could vaguely remember dancing on with his mother leading him when he was smaller.

He trifled around before he pulled a pair of open top, black shoes from the trunk that could easily be worn without crafting the ankle- or anything around it. For himself he grabbed a ruby earring that hung from his lobe as soon as he placed it on himself. It bounced off his jawline with each turn of his head. This was his mother’s favorite color- ruby red. He smiled into the mirror that hung on the wardrobe door and hoped his mother would be proud of the man he grew up to be.

Shutting everything back up, he grabbed the flats and left the room. He rushed around and asked any servant or guard he could find if they knew of your whereabouts. He was in the midst of asking yet another when his attention was grabbed from behind.

“Highness, are you searching for Y/n?” He turned at the mention of your name. Not one servant he had spoken to had addressed you by name but this woman who approached him did without wavering. Young and with kind eyes. “Unfortunately, she’s wrapped up in chores until this evening. Her curfew is at sundown, so she won’t have any time for much extra activity.” She explained to him. “However, if you need to pass a message to her, I’d be happy to deliver. She and I share a room in the servants' wing, so it’d be no trouble in the slightest.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. At least you weren’t completely isolated from the rest of the castle. You seemed to have a kind enough roommate- at least at surface level. It was always possible this woman with the kind eyes was lying to look good in front of him- the prince who obviously had no ill will towards you.

“Would you? If I find out you haven’t, I’ll be very upset with you.” He lightly teased, only half meaning it the underlined threat of ‘don’t do what I ask and a royal fit is in your future’. She simply nodded. Taehyung lifted the flats into view “I’m tired of seeing her run around shoe-less because the castle won’t provide her proper shoes that don’t encase the ankle. These should help.”

Something in the woman’s eyes shined. Like someone being kind towards you was something so asinine and rare. She gratefully took the shoes from Taehyung’s grasp as she smiled down at them so purely it almost seemed she would weep. She nodded to herself before she looked back to the prince, glee written on her features.

“May I tell her the prince gifted these? Or shall I be anonymous with it?” Her voice perked, almost seemingly excited to deliver your new ‘royal’ shoes.

Taehyung smiled. “Please do tell her it was me. I’d like the credit for the safety of her feet,” he chided. She nodded and before she could run off to put them in their shared room, Taehyung stopped her. “Oh, what was your name? I never caught it.”

She smiled at the prince. “I am Akina, Highness.” Taehyung nodded to her. He wanted to learn as many names and faces as possible of his servants of the castle. Unlike his father, he wanted to appreciate his staff for their work. She scampered off as Taehyung turned and went back to wandering the halls. That is until he got caught from his out of breath, frantic aide that chewed him out for simply running off.

Taehyung was in for an earful he had a feeling he couldn’t sneak away from.

Xxx

When you entered your shared room with Akina you slumped against your door with a silent huff. Ever sense Taehyung had run into you and lain into your supervisor, she had gotten even harsher on you. Your feet were sore and your legs hurt from all the dowel swats you received if you were to even step wrong walking down the hall. Still, you just took a breath and calmed down, holding your sour disposition about your treatment. At least you weren’t executed- so you could deal with the harshness.

“Madam Hana was too strict today, wasn’t she?” You looked up and saw the small figure of Akina sat in her bed. You nodded before you walked to her, plopping on her bed beside her. You pulled out your notepad and ever shortening pencil as you wrote in the dimly lit room.

‘My legs hurt from all her whacking,’ your paper whined for you.

“Well, maybe I can cheer you up. Or, maybe our charming prince can.” You looked at Akina, your brow shooting up. She hopped off her bed before going to the small shared wardrobe in the room that held both your and her items. She grabbed something from the bottom before whirling around and coming back only to plop something into your lap. Knocking your notepad and pencil away from you. “These are from Prince Taehyung, for you.”

You were speechless- not that you could speak anyways. Sat in your lap was the cleanest, more lovely pair of black flats you had ever seen. Enclosed around the toes and open to the top of your foot with just enough room to hook over your heel and not an inch higher. They’d be so convenient to wear. You ran your finger over their edges before you were reaching for your notepad again and scribbling furiously. You shoved the paper into Akina’s hands.

‘Are you sure they’re for me?’

“He strictly instructed me that I give them to you with the message that he wants you to wear them because he doesn’t want you to hurt your feet anymore,” your roommate explained. You just stared at them star struck. The prince really wanted you to have these shoes? Where did he even get them? Regardless of if it was really him who gifted you these shoes or not, you just nodded in acceptance.

The idea of not padding around barefoot anymore was blissful to just think about. You grew excited to wear them in the morning when another day of grilling work and dowel whacks began. Akina just smiled as she set your notepad aside, watching you kick your feet with your under eyes pushing up in a smile she couldn’t see.

“You are just too darned cute,” the older one insisted. “If I were 10 years older, I’d adopt you in a heartbeat!” She gushed before she sat on the bed beside you and grabbed the shoes. “Let’s try them on!”

Xxx

Taehyung woke up early that next morning, taking to the halls as they were quiet and empty in his silk, royal pjs once again. Peach colored button up shirt that matched the same peach silk trousers that hung off his hips. Slippers of tan on his feet and a robe of gradient corals to fight off the morning chill. He hadn’t bothered in fixing himself to be presentable in the halls, simply because it was far too early to care about physical appearances.

He left his room that morning and made a dash for the gardens. He had hopped to run into you there again, but he wasn’t very hopeful. The only reason he saw you last time was because you were gathering flowers for him- the same flowers he kept in his window sill and watered. But, even if you were not in the gardens, maybe you would be somewhere else?

He stopped mid stride in the hall when he remembered that Akina had told him that you had strict surveillance and curfew. You most definitely wouldn’t be allowed out of your room until fetched. He groaned to himself as he then spun on his heels and backtracked towards the servant’s halls.

Thankfully, he knew where your room was- he did drop you off once after all.

He never realized how many servants were under the king’s employment until he was walking down halls of the servant’s wing. It seemed they were endless before he finally turned down the hall he knew was yours. He nearly jogged when he caught sight of the door he remembered dropping you off at before.

He came to a stop in front of it before he was knocking lightly. He turned and looked out the window behind him- the sun was almost ready to appear for the day. Although it was not yet upon the horizon, the sky had already begun to change colors. His attention fell back to the door when the door handle jostled and then twisted.

The door was cracked open and he was greeted with Akina standing in the open crack. She seemed shocked to see Taehyung in front of her room- of course that was a valid expression. He wasn’t even properly dressed after all. He smiled down to her as he tried to peer inside of the room- but it was too dark to see properly. He looked back to Akina ruffling his messy, blond hair.

“Is Y/n awake yet?” He asked her. Akina twisted her body around and watched as you remained sleeping in your bed. Curled into your blankets and softly snoring. She turned back to her prince.

“She isn’t. Shall I wake her up?” Taehyung shook his head.

“May I come in? I know it’s not proper for a male to enter a female’s room, but could I?” Akina’s face twisted in a few moments of shock before she was stepping back, taking the door with her as it opened further. Apparently, she didn’t mind. Taehyung thanked her as he stepped in, Akina shutting the door behind him.

He stood in the room as he looked around. It was dim, the lantern on the desk in the middle of the room unlit as the morning sky only barely gave the room light. Though it was bright enough to navigate, Akina still rushed to strike a match and light the lantern for better view. She didn’t want the crown prince falling over something and getting hurt in her room.

The small, two bedded room was far different than his own grand room. He felt almost guilty at the difference between staff and royal standards. However, it was something not even he could change- it was part of how the world has been. Perhaps though, one day he could at least improve servants’ quarters.

He shook his head, his thoughts wandering before he turned to Akina. Asking for silent permission to come closer to you. She nodded as he tiptoed to your bedside and knelt beside it. He smiled as you slept.

You slept curled up in blankets, tucked into your chin and curled up like you were cold. Your head had completely slipped off your pillow as you occasionally squirmed. He started poking at your face; your cheeks and nose and tracing your forehead in dumb patterns. He even poked at your mask that he was annoyed you still had to wear even while sleeping. He watched your face pout as he curled his lips to keep himself from laughing.

“Y/n,” he called. He kept prodding at your face until your eyes started to twitch under your eyelids. “Y/n,” he cooed again. As Taehyung tried to wake you, Akina moved to her own bed as she sat down still a bit in shock that the prince was in her room and messing with you. Eventually, your eyes slowly opened, before blinking slowly. He smiled at you as your eyes moved to look at him. “Good morning,” he greeted.

He laughed as your eyes shot open now realizing who was in front of your bed. Tangled in your blankets you shot up and tried to get out of your fabric prison. Sitting up, your torso free of your blanket, but your legs still trapped in it’s folds, you looked past Taehyung to Akina. She was simply smiling at you, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders before you looked back at the prince.

You looked around to the desk and saw your notepad and pencil sat there, but too far for you to reach. You jumped when Taehyung stood from his knelt position beside you and started to pull at your blanket. You moved as he tugged and before long he was pulling the blanket off you completely.

Taehyung looked at the notepad on the desk before he was grabbing it and placing it in your lap before he was sitting himself down beside you on your mattress. He decided to keep his opinion on your white nightgown to himself- you looked adorable in it. He giggled as you started to scribble down words quickly before shoving it into his lap.

‘What are you doing here, Your Highness?’

“I didn’t get to see you all day, so I came to see you.” He gently set your notepad back in your lap before he was talking again. “I know you're under some strict scheduling, but do you want to go walk with me? I have something I want to talk to you about.” Your eyes widened before you looked down at your lap and lightly kicked your feet against your bed frame. Your being filled with nervousness as Akina was soon standing up.

She moved to the trunk at the end of your bed before she reached into the wardrobe and grabbed a bag to hang your notepad and pencil in. She was now kneeling in front of you, grabbing your feet around your anklets before she was slipping your new, black flats onto your feet.

Taehyung smiled as Akina helped you, glad that she not only gave you the shoes like he asked, but they fit so well on you. She then grabbed your notepad from your lap and placed it into the small bag before helping you to your feet.

“If Madam Hana comes by, I’ll try and stall for you. Go enjoy the morning before work, okay?” She held your hands before she slung the bag over your shoulder to let it rest on your hip. Taehyung was soon standing behind you and patting your back between your shoulder blades. He smiled down at you, something that helped ease your nerves.

Between the both of them, you were soon out in the halls with your nightgown on and Taehyung beside you in his pajamas as Akina shut the door behind you both. You shivered from the cool air in the halls compared to your small, warm room. Taehyung was quick to pull the silk robe from his shoulders and place it over you.

“Wear this,” he urged as you wanted to decline as it was a royal’s robe. He just persisted before he pulled your arms through the sleeves and straightened it to sit on your shoulders. Your shoulder didn’t quite fill it out like his did, but that was alright. You had to admit, it was a lot warmer than nothing at all. “Let’s go talk,” he soothed as he was soon leading you off to somewhere.

Xxx

Taehyung had taken you to a small, secluded part of the royal gardens where you’re not usually allowed. Only royals are allowed beyond a certain point and the select few of servants who care for the garden. Shrubs and bushes of healthy, green color. Rows of flowers lining the cobblestone paths and marble busts of past royal rulers. A small fountain at the center off all the intermingled paths of stone.

He watched you look around and fidget with your fingers. You were currently disobeying a number of rules at the moment. Leaving your room without permission, not being properly supervised, wearing the prince’s robe, entering a restricted garden where servants aren’t allowed. Your mind couldn’t keep up with everything that’s happened in such a short burst of time.

Taehyung pulled you along with him until he sat you down on a stone bench near the fountain before he sat next to you. He sat in silence for a moment as you continued to fidget. He was slouched back, looking up at the color changing sky as the windy blew in small wisps. He hoped his robe was enough to keep your warm.

“I ended up asking my attendant about you, you know?” He started. He could practically feel you stiffen next to him. “I learned a lot about you from him and learned why you do what you do. Though, I have a lot of questions to ask you about it personally.” He felt you moved beside him, taking out your notepad to write on it before you were tapping on his thigh.

‘Are you angry about it? What you learned?’

“No,” he shook his head. “Or maybe I am, but not with you.” He sighed as he brought his chin down to look at the fountain. “I heard that you were sold to my father when you were a child and that the first thing he did was slap you in restraints. That is what I am angry about.”

‘So, you know what my restraints are for?’ Your notepad asked him before he was looking down at your lap. Your fingers were trembling, but something told him it wasn’t because of the morning chill. You were scared. It was clear that you were isolated from your fellow servants because the knowledge of your magic wasn’t exactly a well kept, royal secret.

“Yes, I know you’re a sorceress, Y/n.” You ducked your head, tucking your chin into your chest in shame as you just wished to fade away and disappear with the wind. It wasn’t your fault you were born like this and it wasn’t your fault that everyone thought you were some kind of tumor to be removed from society.

Everything was taken from you since you were a child and it wasn’t your fault. You slowly wrote before handing him the notepad again.

‘I am sorry,’ you apologized. Taehyung’s slouched figure straightened before he was taking the notepad and setting it on the ground on top of the cobblestone and out of your reach. Your eyebrows shot up as you went to go and reach for it before Taehyung was off the bench and kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your hands, stopping your attempts to retrieve your book back.

“Y/n, I don’t want you to apologize for something my family did to you.” His voice was stern as he forced you to look at him as he spoke on his knees in front of you. “It is my father and his awful rules against sorcery that put you right here, right now. It is in no way your fault, you were born with your magic- you can’t just get rid of it or outgrow it.” Your eyes didn’t move from his. You weren’t sure how, but he knew how you felt about it and he was putting to ease all your anxieties. “Listen to me, I want to do something. I have things I want to do that involve you- things I want to do to protect you.”

You furrowed your brows as he let go of your hands and reached up to your face. He traced around the edges of your mask. You reflexively reached up to hold it, keeping the straps behind your ears even if you knew it wouldn’t fall off. You couldn’t take it off, no one could but His Majesty to your knowledge. Taehyung smiled up to you.

“I have a request, and by the end of our conversation this morning, I’d like for you to answer me properly. Is that alright, Y/n?” You simply nodded to him. He placed his hands over your own that were held up by your ears. “I heard that both your gauntlets and anklets are suppressors, and that this mask is also one. When you told me that the king hates your voice, you were talking about your magic, yes?” You nodded again. “Alright, then you also know that you’re unable to take your mask off.”

You felt dumb just nodding to him. But it is all you could do. With him blocking your path to your notepad on the ground and his hands holding yours in place by your ears, you had no other choice but to nod or shake your head in response to his questions.

“Only royal blood can remove your mask,” his tone suddenly changed. It was short and quiet as opposed to his earlier stern monologue. “If that is true, then I can take this mask off of you.” Your eyes widened. “If that’s possible, I’m going to try. I’m going to pull this mask off and I want to hear your voice. I want to see your face, I want to know what you sound like and what you look like when you smile.”

You felt him let go of your hands as he moved his fingers behind your ears. You felt his fingertips feather around the shell of your ear before they hooked under your mask’s straps. Your breath halted.

“When I remove this, I want you to call for me,” he instructed you. You didn’t even nod to him that time. Just remained breathless and still. The sensation of him pulling your mask over your ears and away from your cheeks was odd. It felt like static as you could physically feel something coming back to you. Your throat felt warm and your cheeks tingled with feeling. Like something was being returned to you.

When your mask was pulled from your mouth and away from your face, the wind picked up. The morning chill being blown away as a warm, summer breeze fell in place to comfort your bare face. You ducked your head away from his eyes. Taehyung took your mask before he placed it behind him, joining it with the notepad on the cobblestone before he lifted his hands back to cup your cheeks.

Your cheeks were soft and warm. They pushed under the pressure of his hands as he lifted your chin to look at him. When your eyes met his again your face flushed and he could see the red hue that crept onto your skin under his hands. He smiled at you the moment the sun started to breach the horizon now.

“Memorizing,” he told you. “Now, call for me.” He watched your pink lips open and close, unsure on how to do it. What to do and then the anxieties set in again. You haven't used your voice in so long. What did it sound like now? Would it be weak and hoarse? No, surely not. Your throat was warm and smooth and you felt something magical in the absence of your mask. “It’s alright,” Taehyung soothed. “It’s just us here, just try.”

He watched you stick your tongue out to lick at your dry lips before you opened your mouth again. He felt your jaw move under his hands and your cheeks hollow out at your lips unsure movements. Your chest inflated as you took a breath in.

“Um,” the small noise that came out of your mouth made Taehyung jump as his fingertips pushed into your cheeks further. Trying to urge you to speak, he just nodded as you tried again. “Prince Taehyung?” You whispered in a small, adorable voice.

Taehyung’s jaw dropped before you gasped and pushed your palms against your mouth as if you had just committed a crime. In a sense, you did. It was a royal order that you not speak, but then again it was the prince who told you to speak in the first place after he took off your mask. You were confused and shocked at your own choice of actually speaking again.

“Y/n, would you consider being my lady-in-waiting?” Taehyung blurted out as your eyes bugged before he continued. “I know it’s not proper, and that only noblewomen are assigned court ladies, but I am without an assistant and I want it to be you.”

You had never heard of a prince asking for a woman servant to tend to him before. It was absolutely asinine. However, when you looked at Taehyung, he really meant it.

“Why?” Was your reply and he felt his hair stand on end at hearing your voice again. “The king would surely reject the idea.” It was so soft, like velvet to his ears.

“I will speak to him. He is my father and I will fight him on this. He has no choice if I threaten my throne after all- it works as a last resort.” Threatening his throne? As in threatening to not come to rule and dismissing his coronation one day in the future? That’s ridiculous! “Of course, I’d never really give up my place as crown prince, but it’s a good bargaining chip.”

“But, Madam Hana. She is my supervisor, if I-”

“If you serve under me, she will be unnecessary. I do not want to see her hit you anymore.”

“My prince, I don’t know.” It was no surprise that you were unsure about it. It was all so sudden, not to mention all the unknown variables about such a strong choice. “What answer do you want from me,” you whimpered as you fiddled with the fabric of your nightgown. Taehyung ran his thumb across your cheek as he pulled his lips back into a smile.

“Whatever answer you give me, I’ll accept it. Unlike my father, I am no bully,” he teased. You smiled at the prince calling the king something as lowly as a ‘bully’. His time abroad seemed to have fused this childish, refreshing nature into his persona. It made you feel warm and Taehyung felt like a spring shower.

“If I agree, would you be happy?”

“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat.

“You are so sure of yourself,” you replied to his quickfire answer.

“I am sure of you.”

As you sat in the restricted garden of royalty, the prince of Lisha on his knees in front of you holding your cheeks in his silk pajamas with his hands that had removed your mask, you made a decision. Perhaps, it was a foolish one in the making. It would surely anger the king and could create tension among your fellow servants. It would undoubtedly cause Madam Hana to go into a fit. But when you thought of Akina and her support as well as your Prince Taehyung who knelt before you, all that didn't seem to matter any more.

It felt like you were regaining a piece of freedom you were stripped of when you were young.

“I would,” you told him. “I would consider it, if you would allow me,” you finalized. If being his lady-in-waiting and throwing out the standard status quo was what it was going to take to please your prince, then you’d just have to accept it and follow him. He was the first royal to even show you a spec of kindness like his late mother did once very long ago.

Yes, you should stick to Prince Taehyung’s side.

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mihidecet · 4 years

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Sbi&CO d&d AU: The Dream Team

Aka: Tibi's MCYT WritingTober, day 29: "A normal day"

Listen the original prompt, from @the-only-gamer-gost 's list, was evidently mc related but I just had to write this. Whops ahah

It's time for you to meet another part of this AU's cast! I do hope you'll enjoy reading this ahahah

George takes a deep breath.

He is in his study: the smell surrounding him is gentle, of old wood and older books, of the flowers he's growing on the windowsill, of the almost empty cup of tea his tutor insisted he drank before practicing - "you can't do magic on an empty stomach, I will not have you pass out like a fresh-faced student with no experience!"

It is quite easy to fall back into his own mind, he's done it so many times ever since he started training, but it is never quite easy to-

A light thump, the sound of a small metallic bead hitting his window, prompts him to open his eyes.

George purses his lips in barely concealed irritation and shakes his head. He has to focus. This is precisely why he wanted to skip breakfast, so that he could start before they arrived to bother him.

He's been meaning to try out a new theory - a new spell - for a while, and it requires him to be at maximum concentration because time is a fickle bitch that does not like being toyed with.

So George closes his eyes again and focuses on the pattern of his breathing. He feels for a moment in complete awareness of every inch of his body, and then he opens his eyes.

In front of him, millions of millions of shimmering particles float, gently, into the air in front of him, as if somebody had decided to hang an infinite amount of pieces of iridescent glass with invisible strings. George could live a thousand years and never get tired of seeing the figments of reality and specks of possibilities that exist in the time dimension.

Raising his hand to touch one of them feels like moving through thick molasses after a day of exercise - his muscles protest, scream at him, and it is such a strenuous act.

But he knows to persist - what's coming is going to be even harder - so after what seems like an eternity, but in reality is no time at all, the tips of his fingers brush against the burning cold of a figment of reality.

A fraction of a second later, George stumbles forward, head ringing as he's thrown out of his own personal pocket in time. In his ears, the sound of another of those damned pebbles against his bloody window.

George lets out a loud curse and stomps to the window, opening it with a gesture of his hand and then immediately raising his arcane shield as another pebble flies right at him - as it had been aimed at his poor window once more.

Filled with a righteous fury, George slams his hands on the windowsill - mindful of his poor and completely innocent Forget-Me-Nots - and leans forward to look down at the recently acquired banes of his existence.

"See, I told you it would work- George! George wanna come train with us?" Calls out the fighter, waving a hand frantically as he elbows his shorter monk friend.

"No! Leave me alone!" George yells back, and instantly closes the window and goes back to his position in the centre of the room.

He closes his eyes, focuses on his breathing, and-

Another pebble. He is going to murder them.

"What do you want?! I told you I'm busy!"

The fighter spreads his arms open - almost hitting his friend in the face, if said friend hadn't ducked down instantly.

"Oh, come on George! It's gonna be fun!"

"I'm not interested! Now, leave before I start throwing spells your way!"

The monk scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his chin up in defiance.

"As if you could catch me! I bet you can't, and you're scared, and that's why-" a pale green hand is suddenly covering the human's mouth, its owner looking awkwardly up at George with a tentative smile - as if that douche's attempt at riling him up could have worked.

On a completely unrelated note, George has had enough of that conversation.

"You bother me again today and you will regret it." And with that, he closes the window again.

Definitely not hearing the monk's confused "does that mean we can come back tomorrow?". He is just going to ignore it.

The moment he turns back around, he almost has a heart attack.

Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a knowing smile on his face, is his mentor.

"Bloody hell, I didn't hear you arriving." George mumbles, moving to grab him a chair as the older wizard chuckles.

"I figured, you were having quite a spat." Scott comments, sitting down on the armchair and nodding towards the window, looking more pleased than he should be.

George gives a scoff, letting himself slump into his chair.

"They are relentless. I don't know what to do anymore." He mopes, but as he should have expected Scott has no pity to share and immediately tackles a new, equally pressing problem.

"Have you found your teammates for the tournament yet?" He asks, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin in his hand. About two months ago, George had agreed, after ages of declining invitations and rejecting requests, to take part in the yearly tournament his mentor ideated - agreeing only on the terms that he would be able to choose his own teammates. Which is not that unusual, people can arrive with their friends and form a team. George's main problem? His sadly evident lack of friends - at least, friends that will take part in the tournament.

"Not yet. They're all so … various. And peculiar. I'm-" He halts, hands clasped together and squeezing one another, as if they were stress relievers. Noticing his discomfort, Scott seems to take immediately a step back from his usual flippant persona as his expression softens and his posture relaxes.

"You're free to speak your mind." He reminds him gently, so George takes a small breath and looks away, towards the door, ignoring the awkwardness of his admission.

"I'm worried my purely academic training will make me underperform."

"That is possible. It is also possible that you do well. Has the prospect of failure ever stopped you?" Scott challenges, one eyebrow raising in doubt because this is the thing: Scott chose him as his protégé, he knows what George is capable of. He knows him, how competitive he is, how his pride gets in the way despite how much his self esteem is rather low. But still.

"I never had to fail in front of a crowd."

"I understand. Still, I think it will do you good. You should find people to team with, not many get this opportunity."

"I know! It's just that nobody's stuck out! They all seem like incredibly talented people!" George protests, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping back into the chair - sliding down a little, so that his chin presses up against his chest. So now he looks and feels like a child throwing a tantrum. Splendid.

"Well. I think there are at lest two you know by name." Scott notes, smiling with a conspiratory look, and George feels incredibly stupid that he let himself be played like this - did Scott manage to bring the discussion back to the two dumbasses that have been bothering him nonstop for the past couple of weeks?!

Dream and Sapnap- he has no care for them. None at all.

"Shut up." George replies weakly and Scott simply laughs - ever so rude, laughing at his self inflicted misery - before standing up. He circles the desk between them and puts a hand on his head, messing up his hair with a chuckle.

"I have to go, I have matters that await me. But it was nice to see you doing well. I'll wait for the names tonight." Scott's sing-song voice calls as he leaves with a smirk, closing the door behind him.

George lets out a long sigh and resigns himself to morning of meditating and practice.

It was nice to see his mentor again - he's been worried lately, as if on edge. George figures it's the tournament's fault, but one may never be sure.

A couple of days later, Dream wakes to the feeling of a pillow hitting him square in the face. Followed by a ripping noise. Followed by the feeling of stuffing falling on his face.

"Oops-" Sapnap says above him: when Dream opens his eyes, he's holding his pillow, now with a tear in it and stuffing slowly falling on the ground.

"SAP! What the fuck did I tell you about the tusks?!"

After their morning workout routine - which definitely does not entail Dream chasing Sapnap around their room as the shorter man jumps around on the furniture to escape, and absolutely doesn't end with them rolling on the floor as the half orc holds his teammate in a headlock - they have a quick breakfast and then hurry to the Academy.

Today's the day: they will be announcing the teams for this year's tournament, and they both can't wait who they will be fighting with.

The announcement is a strictly participant-only event, and from that point on they will have about a month to train with their new teammates inside the Academy's facilities.

The Academy is a huge building that looks and feels like those castles they talk about in fairytales: sky high towers of iridescent colours, with strands of various shades of purple and orange connecting invisible points in space - and perhaps time too. There are stairs and bridges connecting different sections, and Dream knows, from stories told by Master Calvin, that it is as tall in the sky as it is deep inside the bowels of the Earth. A magnificent display of arcane power and architectural prowess. As one would expect from the creators of this tournament, but still.

The crowd that gathers around the entrance is one of the most varied assortment of adventurers Dream has ever seen, and he knows Sapnap is thinking the same thing because the human's head keeps whipping from side to side as he stares at the people walking by.

Dream shoots, from time to time, a look around. He's not particularly looking for somebody - he is - and he's not going to let the knowledge of who is competing distract him from trying to do his best - debatable.

But still.

All the participants are directed toward the entry, where after a quick scan - to avoid strangers from entering - they manage to get inside the main hall.

Now, Dream and Sapnap have been told, by their respective masters, about the Academy, but nothing can ever quite prepare you for something this grandiose and extravagant as what they are seeing.

One would expect a centennial arcane academy, built by two archmages and hosting the best of the magical world in terms of teachers, students and knowledge, to be a stuffy, old fashioned institution.

One would be quickly proven wrong, as just the entrance hall happens to be a stunning portrait of multiple colours, bright and radiant, with moving paintings of famous arcane masters casting spells side by side with rather sweet drawings of past winners of the tournament hugging each other and holding out their prizes.

When Master Calvin had first suggested he move for a while to the Academy, in order to fully develop his arcane abilities, he had been skeptical: how could he, when Calvin's house had been his home for so long? But now, seeing all this, he thinks that maybe he could come to like this place.

At the end of the hall, on an apparently clear glass panel, are displayed the names of each team member.

With all the chatter and cheers and noises of people looking for each other - some are already leaving, having found what and who they were looking for - it's hard to catch the sound of Sapnap's sudden gasp.

It is less hard to notice him gripping his wrist and vigorously point at the glass as he lets out an excited laugh.

Dream follows where he's pointing, and-

"George is with us?!" He exclaims, mostly out of pure disbelief, eyes wide open as he looks back and forth between his friend and the list of names on the board.

"We're so going to win this!" Sapnap answers with an elated smile before bursts out laughing, jumping up and wrapping him in a full body hug - Dream catches him, letting out a small "omf" that is mainly due to the unexpectedness of it all.

"I can't believe it, we got so lucky!" The half-orc comments, his eyes skimming through the names listed on the board - some he recognises, more or less unfortunately, and some he doesn't.

"I know, right?! -" Sapnap comments, leaning back and letting go in order to nod with his head towards the floating glass.

"Now we just have to find out who Eret is, I guess."

#mcyt writingtober #sbi dnd au #dnd au #now sbi&co #dream team au #dreamwastaken #sapnap #georgenotfound #smajor1995

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Twin Flame | Of Eternity and Euphoria (1)

Pairing: God!Min Yoongi x Human!Reader sort of soulmate!au?

Summary: The god of the underworld hasn’t been whole for a millennium. Suddenly you came stumbling into his life...literally.

Warnings: N/A Fluffy!

Word Count: 4.9K words

A/N: I like this. Yes. Let me know your thoughts and if you want more of this mini series!

Other:

Series Masterlist

What Is A Twin Flame?

~ Sometimes discussed in terms of a “mirror soul” or “soul connection”, a twin flame is the other half of your soul. It is theorized that a soul can split into two after ascending to a high frequency. Thereafter, the soul lands in two different bodies.

It had been disgustingly simple. You were just minding your business, on your phone scrolling through instagram, when you bumped into someone. This resulted in the ice vanilla latte in your hands finding a home on a stranger’s shirt.

You looked up quickly to apologize, but you stopped mid-way through your sentence to gawk. The man standing before you had jet black hair and skin as pale as the moon. Even his eyes held a certain darkness and yet...to you he was absolutely stunning. You quickly shut your mouth and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You dipped your head apologetically. The stranger didn’t say a word. He just tilted his head at you quizzically. “I’ll pay for your dry cleaning!” You exclaimed, feeling the need to fill the awkward gaps. You inwardly cursed at yourself, knowing you didn’t have much money. You continued to ramble, only stopping when he put a hand up. That effectively silenced you. You had a bad habit of rambling on and on when nervous.

“Your name?” He said curtly.

“Y/L/N Y/F/N.” You said immediately.

“Interesting.” He looked around, eyes surveying the cars and streetlights. “The human world has changed quite a bit since I was last here.”

“Human...world?” You weren’t religious or really superstitious. The notion of there being an other world seemed silly to you. So, of course, you suddenly had your reservation when speaking to this mysterious, albeit devastatingly handsome, man.

“Ah, sorry. You’re human, yes?”

“Yeah...?” You found yourself taking a small step back from him, but the smile he gave you was fond and warm. It almost made you relax; almost.

“I’m Min Yoongi.” He held a hand out to you. His fingers were slender and long, delicate, but not fragile. You met his hand with your own, giving it a good shake. Instantly, a warm tingling feeling spread from your hands to your body. It felt like your hand was made to hold his. It was comfortable. He seemed just as confused as you, but instead he cleared his throat and dropped your hand. “I’m very busy, I must be going.”

You nodded quickly, still unsure of what just happened.

“Oh and...don’t worry about the laundry. I’ve got it taken care of.” He said nonchalantly before moving past you. You waited until he was out of sight before sprinting back to your apartment which was only a couple blocks away. Something inside of you had ignited when you met. Now it felt cold. Almost dead. And your apartment seemed even lonelier, if that was possible. What you didn’t know was that, quite literally, below your feet, there was a being sharing your exact feelings.

Yoongi ran a hand through his hair.

“Listen, joon, I don’t fucking know how it works either. I’m telling you that something happened when I touched that mortal!” Yoongi paced in front of Namjoon. The god of wisdom was intrigued to see his usually cold friend of the underworld pacing frantically like a high schooler.

“Now now, hyung, don’t get too caught up. After all, you’ve been in the underworld, alone, for a century. You never join us for cards anymore.” Namjoon spoke like a calming parent.

“I don’t like unnecessarily messing with the lives of humans, namjoon.” The older male shot back. “That just means more clean up for me and I don’t enjoy having more work than I need to have.”

“Right right, whatever.” Namjoon dismissed his bitter comment with a wave of his hand. “How can you be sure?”

“That’s why I came to you, dumbass! Aren’t you supposed to know these things?” His words held the tiniest bit of contempt.

“I know a lot of things, Yoongi, I’m just not sure if I’m allowed to tell you all of them. The fates have their own way of things, you know that.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll see for myself.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” The god of wisdom clasped his hands together, looking unamused.

“I’ll take her home.”

You ran through the material one last time. Friday was the big final for the year and you had to pass. There was no other option unless you planned on working at McDonalds for the rest of your life. You rubbed the space between your eyebrows, looking for comfort from the oncoming headache. Papers upon papers were sprawled in front of you. Your little apartment was overwhelmed with clutter. Books, stray magazines, and plates littered the living room. Your bedroom wasn’t much better. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly a clean person.

There was a sudden knock at the door. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was that odd man you had met the other day. You didn’t want to open the door, but something drew you in. Lately, that man had been on your mind more and more. You didn’t really know why. There was something about him. It felt like...like he had completed you for a fraction of a second.

“Hello?” You slowly opened your door. You only had a moment to take in the man in front of you, dark suit and pale skin, until the wind blew open your door wider. You nearly shrieked, jumping back quickly.

“Y/N.” His voice drawled, low and almost bored. “You need to come with me.”

He looked at your terrified expression. A man in a dark suit who you’d met once was now standing in the doorway of your apartment...like a fucking weirdo. Who could blame him? He had spent thousands of years alone. Hesitantly, Yoongi stepped through the doorway. You only took another step back. No matter how handsome or how right this man was, you weren’t going to just let a stranger take you away!

“What do you want? I don’t-I don’t have any money on me right now.” You said, cursing yourself for stuttering. At this, Yoongi softened his expression.

“Sorry, let me try again.” He quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door. Then he knocked.

This absolute fool. You thought, shaking your head and then deciding to humor him. You cautiously opened the door. He stood there, smiling.

“I’m the god of the underworld and I believe you’re my twin flame. So, I’m going to have to have you come with me.”

You blinked once, looked around your apartment, then at him like he’d grown two heads. Of course, this was just another lunatic who thought himself some sort of God. You scoffed, stepping forward to close the door. Panicked, the man quickly stepped inside.

“You’re insane.” You mumbled, but when he grasped your hand, you froze. The sensation was back, but it was sudden this time, spreading throughout your body like a wildfire. Your heart raced like a hundred horses running. His other hand on your arm snapped you out of it. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind which had become increasingly foggy.

“I’m not insane. You can feel it too, can’t you?” He insisted, those his face didn’t give away the same emotion his voice did. His voice screamed panicked teenager, his face said hello, I’m a fucking god. When you slowly nodded, he grinned. You couldn’t help but admire his smile. It put you at ease.

“No, wait.” You stopped yourself from moving toward the door, heels digging in and fighting your instinct. “I barely know you. For all I know, you’re about to sell me into some underground prostitution ring.” Your voice was hurried, not knowing if you should run after trotting horses or stay behind. To take a leap or not? He interrupted your train of thought by pulling you close to his chest. When you were chest to chest, his head bowed down to stare intently into your eys.

“We’ll have all of eternity to learn about each other, love.” His words dripped honey and elegance. Against your better judgement, you found yourself following him. “See? You can’t escape fate.”

You looked at him, still questioning his motives. You didn’t believe in gods, there was surely no way he was telling the truth. But there was also no explanation to the feelings coursing through your veins. It was like your skin ignited under his touch. It was a tingling feeling that you wanted to keep.

“Apologies, this may be a little...weird at first.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he walked you from your apartment all the way to the park across the street.

“A little weird?”

“Getting to the underworld.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” You immediately took a step back. once again broken from your trance.

“Uh...Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about spending eternity with dead people.” You frowned. Yoongi sighed, squeezing your hand tightly.

“You’re not trapped down there forever. We can go to the surface any time you want. I just need to make sure you’re really my twin flame. Once we get through to the underworld, if things go well, our souls will merge as they should be.” He explained calmly, as if this was the most normal thing. You opened your mouth to respond, when a hand reach from the ground and grabbed your ankle.

“Yoongi! What is going on?!” You screeched, only to be met with an inky black.

You opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the darkness. The room was dark, you assumed from the lights being off, but something about this place just felt...dark. Then everything came rushing back to you. You quickly rushed out of bed, looking outside the window only to see a black abyss.

Panic was the first emotion. Your heart clenched. Was this really the underworld? You checked your pulse, sighing in relief when you felt your pulse still beating. Then you tentatively moved around the room, exploring your surroundings.

This was impossible. Gods are real? You couldn’t believe it, yet here you were.

Yoongi knew you were awake. He knew your whereabouts since you came to the underworld. It had been intense, the feeling of two halves of a soul finally coming together. He felt warm for the first time in years. He was finally complete. He wanted to leave you to your own devices for a while, suspecting that this may be all too much for a mortal.

You were wandering around the castle. There was no one in sight. It was cold and there was something missing from yourself. You felt whole and well, but you were missing something, maybe someone. Yoongi.

Immediately, you started sprinting, bare feet treading softly across the tile floors. Where is that god?! You searched every corner, every room on your way. Then you made a magnificent discovery.

Large doors made of a wood so dark it was almost black and covered with rot iron decor. It was menacing, but having spent an hour or more exploring, you needed answers. You also felt oddly accustom to the drafty halls and the silence. You never had silence like this back home. Your apartment was always noisy with traffic and shouting from the neighbors down the hall. The quiet that so comfortably filled this place was...nice.

“You can go in, you know?” A kind voice said behind you. You jumped, startled, before turning to take in the man. He wore a blue suit and black dress shoes.

“Oh, oh, okay.” You said, your nervousness coming to the forefront again. The man before you was unfairly handsome. He had full lips, unmarred skin, and broad shoulders.

“Ah, mortals, always so nervous. Come on then.” He gently placed a hand on your back and gave you a small push towards the door.

“Mortals? Does that mean you’re also-”

“Yes.” He smiled gently. “I’m Kim Seokjin, god of the sky, but you can call me Jin.”

You mutely mouth oh. That explained the outfit. You carefully opened the door. Inside was a large throne room. Two thrones were at the end of the long hall that was to your left and right. You must have entered through the side door as you spotted a long runner spanning the length of the room in front of you. You glanced from side to side, taking note of the high pillars and floating lights. The thrones sat empty and in the middle of the room was a large table with six men sitting at it like it was nothing. You could hear them chatting happily, laughter rising out of them.

“We’re here!” Seokjin’s voice rang out, echoing in the large room. The chatter didn’t die down as the men turned to look at you two. You wanted to shrink away under their gazes. They’re all so unfairly handsome. As you walked over, falling a few steps behind Jin, you felt like shrinking away. Jin was met with cheers and claps on the back.

“Ah, hyung you’re always late when we meet in the underworld.” A man with pink hair complained.

“Yah! You know it takes me longer to go from the heavens down to the underworld.” Jin protested.

“It’s only a minute from where I live.” A deep voice piped up.

“But Taehyung, you live right above Yoongi.” Jin huffed.

“Who’s this?” A voice said.

All heads turned your way, watching you as you shifted uneasily.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” You dipped your head. Yoongi resisted the urge to smile. After all, he was supposed to be the cold one in the group. The guys would tease him endlessly if they saw him being soft.

“Y/N. Come here.” Yoongi commanded and you did as you were told, not finding the strength in you to throw back a sassy remark. The invasive stares of the other men bit into you.

“Y/N?” Mused a man that seemed far too bright for the underworld. “So you’re the one Yoongi has been going on about.”

That made both of you flush a bright red.

“R-really?” You looked awkwardly at Yoongi where he just simply put an arm around your waist. He softly tugged you closer.

“I think you guys should introduce yourselves to my lover.” Yoongi declared.

Okay that was a lot to take in. Lover? Who were these men? Obviously they were gods but who was what? You already knew Jin. They chuckled at the confusion that must be evident on your face.

“Are you sure you passed that over with her?” A man in a crisp brown suit raised an eyebrow.

“We’re two of the same soul, of course we’re lovers.” Yoongi scoffed, his grip on your waist tightening. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

You found yourself nodding. “Yes, yes, of course.” You firmly agreed, your heart still racing at the thought of being this close to him.

“Right. Well, I’m Namjoon.” The man in the brown suit, Namjoon, introduced himself. “I’m the god of wisdom and knowledge.”

“Hello, I’m Hoseok, god of the sun.” The bright man from earlier chimed in.

“Jimin,” The pink haired man held a hand out to you. For some reason, your pulse quickened looking at him. He was definitely attractive. “I’m the god of love and passion.”

You shook his hand, ignoring the redness creeping back onto your face. He winked, to which Yoongi took to intertwining his freehand with yours.

“I’m Taehyung.” The deep voiced man leaned back in his chair, studying you. “And I’m the god of the sea.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. Then you quickly blurted out, “I think you saved me when I was eight.”

Taehyung looked quizzically at you. “I may have. I save a lot of people.” He shrugged. There was something about him you didn’t trust.

You remembered that day clearly. You hadn’t heeded your parents’ warning and you had gone out into the ocean way farther than you should have.

Your boogey board floated helplessly in the water. At least it was keeping you afloat. There was a gust of wind and the water started to pick up more, becoming choppier. Salt water drenched your small form as you desperately tried to swim back to shore. You believed in gods back then. You believed maybe just maybe a god would have mercy on you.

But no one came to your aid as you thrashed in the cold water.

“HELP!” You screamed into the wind. You realized you were doomed. There was no one on the beach. There was no beach in sight. There was no lifeguard. There were no gods.

“PLEASE, PLEASE ANYONE?!” You cried, salt water leaving you gagging. When the ocean swallowed you whole, you didn’t even bother struggling. You took a deep breath and let yourself go under. Just as the darkness pulled at you, a hand grasped your arm.

“Now is not your time.” A voice whispered, which seemed impossible since you were in water. Then everything went dark and you were coughing up sea water on the beach surrounded by worried bystanders.

“Are you okay?” A gentle woman’s voice called to you. But you felt too dazed, staring out at the water. Your hand went to the spot where you had felt the touch of someone. Who was it? Who had saved you? You decided it must have been a kind person, because why would the gods have thrown you in that situation in the first place?

When you had explained the story, the other gods gave each other a knowing look.

“Right...I definitely saved you. I think I remember now.” Taehyung smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something dark in his gaze.

Yoongi didn’t move, seemingly frozen. He frowned at Taehyung before turning away, looking at Jungkook introduce himself as the god of war. Then Seokjin said hello once more and the chatter continued.

You dazed off, feeling overwhelmed at what was happening. Maybe you would wake up and realize this was some crazy complicated dream. You looked at each man, memorizing their features. If this was a dream...you wanted to remember them the best you could. Looking around at the seven of them laughing and acting as if they were normal beings, it made you desperately wish this wasn’t a dream. You wanted to see Taehyung smile again. You wanted to see Jungkook’s bunny smile, hear Jin’s laugh, Hoseok’s dance moves, Namjoon’s smart comebacks, and Jimin’s wink. You wanted to feel Yoongi’s arm around you again. Just once more.

You were drowning again. water entered your lungs. You screamed and no one heard. People watched from the beach and they laughed at your pitiful attempts to survive against the strength of the ocean.

“You need to tell her, Taehyung.” An annoyed voice shook your from your far from peaceful sleep. You identified the voice to be Yoongi’s. He was speaking to, probably Taehyung, out in the hallway.

You smiled softly, remembering his tight grip on you last night. The way he whispered sweet words in your ear.

“Why? She’s going to be your downfall, Yoongi, we all knew it. I care about you. I didn’t want you to have to go through that!” Taehyung argued, voice hushed.

“You tried to kill her! I saved her.” Yoongi hissed.

“You would rather fall from grace, like the prophets said, huh?”

“I’m already in the underworld, how much farther can I go?” Yoongi said dryly.

“You’re out of your mind.”

You carefully thought back on that day. The darkness, the hand, the voice. It all screamed Yoongi. And Taehyung had tried...tried to kill you.

“No, You’re out of your fucking mind, Tae. You can’t fuck around with fate!” His voice had risen significantly.

“You’re going to wake her up!”

“As if I didn’t know she’s been awake listening to us this entire time. Isn’t that right, love?” Yoongi opened the door to see you standing there, shaking.

“Taehyung...” You spoke softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You tried to kill me?”

Taehyung didn’t meet your eyes, looking away uncomfortably.

“It’s funny how scared you are of a mere mortal.” You suddenly sneered, a certain anger possessing your body. “Don’t come near me again. I’ll stay out of your way and you stay out of mine. I’ll try my best not to be the downfall of Yoongi, but it’s like he said...you can’t fuck around with fate.” You had been wanting to curse the gods for ages. Who knew you would have the chance to do it in person? “And if you fucking touch me or even think of it, I will be sure to be the downfall of you.”

Taehyung gawked at you. Here was a mortal, dressed in a white nightgown with slippers, and he felt the need to bow to you. It was so stupid. He was scared of a mortal.

“If you care about Yoongi, you would do well to leave here.” He said, a hint of malice in his voice.

“I’ll make that choice.”

“Very well. Good day.” Taehyung carefully stepped back before breaking into a fast paced walk down the hall.

Two arms wrapped themselves around your middle, pulling you close to a warm body. Who knew the god of the underworld was so comfortable? He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“That was amazing, love.” Yoongi whispered, his breath fanning across your neck and causing goosebumps to raise.

“I may be stuck here-”

“You’re not trapped, we can always visit the surface if you want-”

You held a hand up that stopped him from continuing. You unwrapped yourself from his embrace and took his hands in your own, facing him.

“-but I won’t be pushed around. I have a life and I need to tie things up before I come here permanently.”

“Permanently-?” Yoongi felt his cheeks heat up. The thought of you belonging to him, that he would finally be happy for eternity, made him overjoyed.

“Yes.” You squeezed his hands, the ones that fit so perfectly in yours. Your gaze was unadulterated love. He could get lost in that gaze.

“After you finish...will you tell me more about yourself?” He said, his voice quiet.

“Of course, but I need to tie up the loose ends of my life.”

“As you wish.”

Waking up in your old apartment, sunlight filtering through the curtains you’d had for years, had you wondering if it all was a dream. Was Yoongi even real? You slowly got up from bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yoongi?” You called out, knowing in your heart that he wasn’t there. He was somewhere in the underworld, just awaiting your return. Your other half. With a sigh, you got dressed and called into work. “Yeah, I’m sorry this is so sudden, but I’d like to quit. No, no, it was nothing anyone did. I just got offered another job across the country.”

“That’s an interesting lie.” A deep voice said behind you. You froze.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, thank you for your time. Yes, I wish you luck as well.” You quickly hung up. Without turning around, you gritted your teeth. “Taehyung, I told you not to come near me again.”

“I’m a god, you can’t stop me.” He chuckled.

“I’ll tell Yoongi.” You murmured, spinning around to face the god of the sea.

He merely laughed.

“I do enjoy you, Y/N. You’re fiery. Perhaps one day we may be friends.”

“And we have forever and ever to decide that, I suppose.” You nodded. “But I don’t plan on it being soon.”

You went to the kitchen, the god trailing behind you. You couldn’t help looking behind you every now and then.

“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I’m worried for my hyung. I’ve known him since we were new gods.” Taehyung said sheepishly. If you were dumb, you might even mistake it for genuine concern. “Can we start over? I would like to be friends. Especially since we’re going to be around each other a bit.”

You didn’t look up, searching through your drawers for the check book. You found it, taking it out and signing the rent amount on it. Then you looked for an envelope.

“Taehyung, I’d love to, but what changed your mind?” You raised an eyebrow, looking toward him as you sealed the check in an envelope for your landlord.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about right now.” He glanced away, suddenly seeming bashful. You tilted your head at him before turning back to find your mailbox.

“Right.” You decided not to pry. “I guess I need to pack everything up now...” You blanched looking at the clutter. Why hadn’t you bothered to clean up? Taehyung followed your eye line, finally acknowledging the mess. He’s a god and you’re here showing him your messy apartment. Taehyung smiled a boxy smile.

“It’s okay, the mess, I mean. Yoongi hyung is just as messy if not more.” He patted your arm and this time you didn’t shrink back. “You guys are meant for each other.”

“Well, thanks for your blessing.” You rolled your eyes. Despite having been so angry with him earlier, you found that he seemed the easiest to talk to now. You could tell that if you had gotten off to a better start, he and you would have been best friends. However, now you held your reservations and you tried not to get too close to him.

“I’ll help you pack.” He knew that Yoongi could easily snap and have all your things transported, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Oh? Okay.” You shrugged. Then you took out the moving boxes stored in your closet from where you moved in a few months ago, and got to work.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at all the boxes currently in the throne room. A long line of souls had begun piling up and he needed to get to work, but he wanted an explanation first.

“Taehyung and I decided to pack up the apartment, I didn’t want to trouble you too much.” You shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Taehyung?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Taehyung is dangerous, jagi.”

“I know, I know. But he showed up at my apartment-”

That made his eyebrows shoot up.

“-And we sort of worked through our problems and now I think it’s okay.” Your smile caught him off guard. He couldn’t help smiling back, it was infectious.

“If that’s what you say, I trust you.” He snapped his fingers and the boxes disappeared. “I’ve moved them to our private quarters. The maids can unpack them.”

“Maids? I’ve never seen any around.” You pondered.

“Oh they’re around. I just instructed them to stay out of your way.” Yoongi pointed to the throne next to his. “Come join me.”

You hesitantly walked forward. “Really?”

“Really.”

As you made your way down the long hall, he continued speaking.

“You remind me of my mother. She has the same grace and elegance. You hold yourself in a similar manner. I find it charming.”

“Tell me about yourself.” You lifted your chin, trying to pry information out of him instead of the other way around.

“Impatient, are we? Well, I’m the god of the underworld. I make sure souls that deserve it pass on safely and souls that don’t deserve it, suffer.” He said casually. “I do enjoy music.”

“What kind?” You had a certain look in your eyes, one that made him want to lose control and kiss you on the spot. You seemed so genuinely interested in him, quite unlike any goddess who had tried to seduce him.

“Any. I play piano.”

“Oh?”

“I have eternity. I might as well learn something new.” He chuckled, then held his hand out to you. “And you can spend it with me, all you need to do is take my hand.”

You walked forward, not hesitating to take his hand. With that, he pulled you in and pressed his lips with yours. Your mouth felt like it was made to be on his. His lips were perfect for yours, like a missing puzzle piece. Warmth spread through your body and you glowed an ethereal light. It was a light that was too bright for this dark underworld. When you broke away, you were still glowing ever so slightly.

“Now you can stay with me forever.” He smiled.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.” You whispered, pressing your forehead to his. He placed his hands on the back of your neck, closing his eyes and breathing in your scent.

“Would you like that, Y/N? Will you spend eternity with me?”

You looked him in the eye, moving apart slightly to look at him better.

“Yes. I’ll spend eternity with you, Yoongi.”

The missing piece in your life. The hand that saved your life. The man that held your heart in his hands. You loved this man.

“I love you, Y/N.” He breathed.

“I love you too.” Then you hugged him, throwing your arms around his waist. And he held you tight. You were made for him. He couldn’t imagine letting you go, not for an eternity.

#bts #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #twin flame #of eternity and euphoria #God!Yoongi #fluff #tatawrites #i didn't proof read this. whoops

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exoticarmyofcrowns · 4 years

Text

dilwale | pjm [m.]

pairing: jimin x fem!reader

summary: a trip across europe turns a bit more interesting when you meet park jimin, a shameless flirt with a penchant for trouble. dilwale (dil-wah-ley): [hindi] the good-hearted, the strong-hearted, lover

genre: romance, fluff, minor angst (pining), smut, dilwale dulhania le jayenge!au (this is not a thing but i made it one oop)

warnings: LOTS of pining (god so much pining) / some cursing / copious amounts of fluff / (bad) flirting / banter / allusion to being taken advantage of BUT IT’S FALSE / lots of feelings / lots of consent (bc consent is sexy) / switch!jimin / switch!reader? / the smut is pretty soft ngl / praise kink sorta? (bc come on is it a jimin fic w/o it) / creampie / excessive use of the word sweetheart / thicc!jimin / unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLSSSS) / tease!jimin / riding / aaaaand i think that’s it??

word count: ~15.6k

a/n: hello ya girl is BACK w another self-indulgent fic hehe THIS ONE’S FOR MY FELLOW DESIS AND BOLLYWOOD LOVERS!!!! ddlj is my absolute favorite movie in the entire world and i just wanted some representation dammit lol this is heavily based on the plot of that movie but obviously with some changes for my own artistic purposes. shout out to @moonlytae for helping me decide which member it should be and @joonies-girl-08 for the fountain scene u guys are the best! as always, a big thank u to @jooniecult for ur expertise, u da best! i hope you all enjoy this, i had so much fun writing it!

“Shit shit shit!”

You’re sprinting through the terminal, checking the directory clutched in your hands as you try to both watch where you’re going and find the damn platform you’re supposed to be on. Your friends and you have been planning this trip for weeks now and you’ve already fucked up by waking up late with barely any time to spare as you frantically waved down a taxi to the train station. You and your friends are taking the Eurail across Europe to celebrate your college graduation and you really should have been at the station about 20 minutes ago but you can blame your overexcitement—and the subsequent lack of sleep—for that.

Of course, luck was not on your side as there was an accident mere minutes from the station. London traffic at its finest. You made the split-second decision to abandon the cab, throwing an apology and a few bills over the divider before running the rest of the way. A glance at your watch says that you’re mere seconds away from missing your train and the thought pushes you to pump your legs faster, backpack slapping against your back with bruising force as you attempt to drag your small carry-on behind you.

Turning a swift corner, you catch sight of the platform you’re looking for. The train doors are still open, thank god, but you know they will close any second. You’re not sure that you’re gonna make it when you see a hand pop out of the open doors, beckoning you to grab hold. Figuring you have nothing to lose now, you take it, arm jolting you through the automatic doors just as they slide shut.

Collapsing with relief, you rest your hands on your knees as you try desperately to catch your breath. The latch on your suitcase has snapped open, spilling the contents onto the floor. You curse, frantically stuffing the carrier full again. You don’t necessarily have anything to hide but you’re not really looking to literally air out your laundry to strangers. Speaking of, you remember you never actually thanked your savior for pulling you to safety. You look up, an expression of gratitude on your lips when you catch sight of the person who helped you onto the train. Your mouth dries as you struggle to form a coherent sentence.

To say he’s gorgeous would be the understatement of the century. He’s absolutely stunning, almost fairy-like with his delicate features and mischievous eyes. It’s a direct contrast to the way he’s dressed, t-shirt tucked into sinfully-tight jeans and a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. His hair is the softest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and you’re tempted to run your fingers through it.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you out of your reverie. You glance up at the man’s face to see his eyes glimmering with mirth and you know you’ve been caught checking him out. You straighten abruptly, cheeks warm with something other than exertion.

“Um,” you begin, cursing yourself internally for how lame you sound, “th-thank you. You know, for pulling me in.”

“It was no problem.” The words come out like a purr and the effect is not lost on you, heart pounding just a little harder in your chest.

You clear your throat nervously and look away from his piercing gaze. You realize you’re both standing in the gangway connection. The handsome stranger seems to realize this at the same time because he glances over to the door and drops his own bag to try and pry it open. He struggles for a moment before knocking loudly on the door.

“Anyone over there?” He tugs uselessly on the door one more time before stepping away, hand running through his pink strands in frustration. He glances over to you looking a little sheepish. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a little.”

“Ah.” You sigh, not sure what else to say so you remain silent. You go to check your phone but remember that it had died midway through your taxi ride. Flopping down onto the ground, you figure you’re gonna be here a while so you pull out the book you brought to keep yourself entertained and flip to where you left off.

Just as you’re getting back into the story, you see the stranger settle down next to you a little closer than you would have liked. While you can admit the man is attractive, you’re still strangers. You have no idea who this guy is; he could be a mugger for all you know! Okay, that was probably not very likely but you can never be too careful.

“So,” he begins, leaning his head back to peer at you, “have we met before? You look awfully familiar.”

You frown. Of course you haven’t met him before, you’re sure you would have remembered such a stunning man. Not that you’d admit that out loud. “Uh…no?” It comes out a bit harsher than you intend but he recovers well.

“Ah, I see. My mistake.” He flashes you a sweet smile and you return it, albeit a little uncomfortably. You try to return to your book but he interrupts you yet again. “It’s just that, your eyes…”

“What?” you practically snap. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Nothing,” he simpers, eyes boring into yours. “They just remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?” The beginnings of a sneer are curling at the corners of your mouth but you manage to bite it back. You cannot, however, keep the impatience from leaking into your tone.

“My mother,” he answers back, gaze turning fond if not a little dreamy. “Her eyes are just like yours, soft and warm and—”

“Listen, that’s very sweet and all but I’m just trying to get back with my friends so if you could, just please leave me alone?” You’re trying really hard not to get tight with this guy but you know his type—pretty boys with an agenda. This trip is for you and your girls and you’re not about to let some schmuck ruin it for you.

He raises his arms in a gesture of defeat. “Alright, alright. I was just trying to break the ice. No need to worry.” Settling back against the wall, he tips his head back to close his eyes and you relax slightly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift uncomfortably but choose to ignore him in favor of your book.

“Excuse me, are these…?” You feel a nudge against your arm and you frown, directing your attention back to him.

Dangling from his fingers is a thong. Your thong, to be exact.

A gasp of mortification tears itself from your throat as you rip the offending garment from his grasp, rushing to shove it back into your backpack. The man has the nerve to laugh at your embarrassment.

“I thought so,” he chuckles, a dangerous smirk curving at the corners of his plump lips. Even his mouth is a pretty pink. You catch yourself staring again and quickly curse yourself, pushing yourself further against the wall of the gangway and away from him.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a black lace kind of girl.”

You whip around to fix him with your most annoyed glare. The fuck was wrong with this guy? “Excuse me?”

He’s still wearing that insufferable smirk and you have to fight the urge to slap it off his stupid face. “It’s just…you seem so pure. Sure that ain’t a little out of your league, sweetheart?”

Mouth agape, you can’t even formulate a proper response to that. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business?”

You congratulate yourself a little when you see his eyes widen fractionally, clearly taken aback by your response. Serves him right, creepy bastard. He drops the subject and you raise your book again to resume reading, albeit with a bit more force than necessary. You can hardly focus on the words, too caught up on the last few minutes to read properly.

You’re halfway through a mental smackdown of Cotton Candy Headass when you feel something making its way into your lap. Startled, you look down only to see the little gremlin squirming his way into your space and under your book. You shoot him an incredulous look, unsure whether to laugh at the sheer gall or scream in his face.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He smiles disarmingly bright and you would be entranced if you weren’t so annoyed. “I was just curious to see how you could read a book upside down. Very interesting style!”

You glance at the way you’re holding your book, face warming at the realization that you were in fact holding it upside down. Fuck.

“Alright, jackass,” you begin, pushing against his shoulders in an effort to dislodge him from your lap, “enough is enough—”

Just then, the cabin door slides open revealing one of your friends. You and Cotton Candy Creep turn your heads to your friend at the same time. Your friend raises a brow at you in a silent question.

“___? What are you doing here?” You sigh, opening your mouth to answer her, but a low voice beats you to it.

“Why hello there, my dear. Did I keep you waiting?” Picking yourself up from the ground, you roll your eyes as you gather your bags. First you, now your friend? This guy doesn’t give up.

“I was scared you had missed the train.” Your friend, Sheena, says the words to you but is looking at your strange companion, eying him up like she wants to devour him.

“Oh, not to worry, darling, I caught it just in time.” He sidles up next to Sheena, leaning against the wall with one arm.

“Good, I was…worried.” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger and you have to remind yourself that you love your friend more than you want to throttle her at this moment.

You sling your backpack across your shoulders before picking up your suitcase. If you had gotten the chance to eat breakfast this morning, you’re sure you would have thrown it up already.

“By the way, what’s your name?” He holds a hand out like a gentleman, as if he weren’t just commenting on your lingerie not ten minutes ago.

“Sheena…”

“Park Jimin, at your service” he returns, grasping Sheena’s proffered hand to kiss the back of it, and you decide you’ve finally had enough.

“Oh, Sheena~” you sing-song, wiggling your fingers in a mock wave. “I’m over here. Shall we go?”

She has the decency to look sheepish as she turns to you, reaching out for your arm so she can pull you to her side.

“Allow me.” Jimin, the little imp, slides the door open with a flourish, sending a last wink at your friend. You usher your friend through before she can get another word in edgewise. As you step through the door, you make sure to knock his knees as hard as you can with your suitcase, taking pleasure in the hiss of pain that escapes him.

As the door shuts behind you, you can’t help but mutter, “I hate men.”

“___, come on! Are you ready?”

You have just finished placing the finishing touches on your makeup when Sheena calls you from the bedroom. Sending one last appraising look, you deem yourself ready and make your way out of the bathroom.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you chuckle, throwing your small purse over your shoulder. “Let’s go!”

Grabbing your other friends, your small group makes its way down to the lobby. The hotel is having a party sponsored by Eurail in the middle of Paris and you can’t help but feel a little excited. You’re having a great time so far, surrounded by your girls, in the city of love no less, and you feel giddy at the thought of what’s to come.

You follow the directions on the invitation and find yourselves in a ballroom located in the back of the hotel. The doors open and the sight that greets you is—

Underwhelming.

The room is dotted with tables and waiters traverse the space, glasses full of bubbling liquid balanced skillfully on trays. It’s almost unnervingly silent as a drab opera singer sings on what you think is actually a dance floor that has been repurposed into a stage. You exchange wary glances with Sheena and the other girls before making your way through the cluster of tables and settling on one closest to the bar and furthest from that damned opera singer.

“Oh god, this party is so boring,” Sheena whines beside you, picking up a menu and flicking through it.

“I told you it would be,” one of your other friends, Jennie, pipes up.

“Yeah well, you also said that the train would get into an accident, the hotel would burn down, and we’d be poisoned by the food so forgive us if we were inclined to ignore your premonitions.” You roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your foot to let her know you were joking,

“Hey, hey, ___. Look.” Sheena shakes you as you scan the appetizers, prompting you to look up to where she’s pointing at the entrance. “It’s your loverboy. And he brought friends.”

“Oh crap,” you whine, whipping back around and sinking lower in your seat. You hope he hasn't seen you.

“‘Loverboy’?” Jennie asks with a frown.

“I found him curled up in ___’s lap when I went looking for her.” Sheena smirks at you while you try to melt into the floor.

“Shut up, Sheena, you know it wasn’t like that. Especially considering the fact that the two of you started flirting right in front of me.”

“Oh. come on. Lighten up, it was only a bit of harmless fun. I wouldn’t dream of taking your man.”

You splutter. “He’s not my anything—”

“Hey! We should invite them over!” Jennie smiles obliviously. You love the girl to death but sometimes she can be a bit…airheaded.

“That is a great idea, Jen,” Sheena shoots you a devious look and before you can stop her, she’s already flagging the group over. You wish the earth would open and swallow you up—better yet, take both you and Sheena so you can have the pleasure of throttling her yourself.

The boys make their way over to you before you can think of an escape plan and you stare resolutely at your menu in an effort to block them out.

“Hi, Sheena.” His voice is just as soft and seductive as you remembered and it sends a familiar heat flashing across your skin but you quickly stifle it. He looks good, you notice begrudgingly. He’s wearing black slacks and a black blazer with a white t-shirt to give a casual vibe. He’s topped off the look with pink tinted glasses that make him look like some celebrity. You think it would be pretentious if it were anyone else but unfortunately, he makes it work. The slacks hug his legs almost sinfully tight, highlighting the strong muscles of his thighs and the rounded curve of his—

Snap out of it! You abruptly stop your scrutiny there, shoving your face back into your menu. You will not let him affect you like he did in the train. You won’t. Still, you can’t help sneaking a glance over to him only to find he’s already staring at you. “Hello, sweetheart.” He shoots you a devastating smile along with a wink and you sneer, abruptly turning away.

“Hey, Jimin.” Sheena simpers and she’s laying it on a little thick, you think, but you know it’s all for show. “Who’re your friends?”

“Ah, this is Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jeongguk.” Jimin points first to a young man with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and then to a slightly younger man whose eyes and nose crinkle cutely as he waves in greeting. The three of them are stunning and you’re left wondering how all the attractive people seem to find each other.

Birds of a feather, you suppose.

The boys make themselves comfortable at your table and you try your best not to grimace. Jimin may be an asshole but the other two have done nothing wrong. You actually quite like them. You’re enjoying listening to a story about the time they got kicked out of a karaoke bar when you overhear parts of another conversation happening across the table.

“You know, Sheena, I think I’ve seen you before.” Jimin is leaning close to your friend as if they are sharing some sordid secret. An unknown emotion churns in your stomach.

“Oh, really? What makes you say that?”

“Your eyes. They remind me of someone.” You stiffen. Now, there’s a familiar line. The nerve of this bastard, reusing pick up lines? How much more pathetic can you get? You clear your throat, trying to appear interested in your conversation with Jeongguk and Hoseok while also keeping tabs on your friend.

“Oh? Whose?”

Jimin has a coy smile curving the corners of his plump lips. “My mother.”

Sheena coos at his words and you can’t bear to hear any more. You stand up abruptly, glasses clinking on the table with the force of your exit.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you murmur to no one in particular and stalk over to the bar. You’re craving the burn of a shot or even the dim haze of wine but you abandon those notions in favor of a water, flagging down the bartender. You chug it a little desperately, relishing in the cooling effect as the water tempers the annoyance you feel for your unwelcome companion. Taking a deep breath, you push away from the bar and make your way back to the table where you find Jeongguk and Hoseok complaining about the music choice.

“I’m just saying, this party could be bumpin’ if the music wasn’t shit.” Hoseok glances over at the poor woman singing her heart out on the dance floor.

Jeongguk sits up suddenly, a devious smile lighting up his face. “Let me see what I can do. Come with me.” He grasps Hoseok’s arm as he gets up, hoisting the man out of his seat.

“Where’re you going?” you ask Hoseok but he looks just as lost as you do. The younger man tugs at his arm, dragging him off to the other side of the room.

“Beats me.” Hoseok shrugs and he disappears with Jeongguk in the sea of waiters and tables.

You’re left a little dumbfounded as the pair leaves you but you shrug it off. You try to enjoy the evening before remembering that Jimin is currently flirting his way into your friend’s pants and your mood sours once again. Just as you’re in the middle of planning your escape, the lights dim and a voice comes on the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you recognize the voice as Hoseok’s and you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. “We are now going to progress to some beats that are a bit more…exciting. Ready, set, and begin!”

A song with a heavy bass and a pleasing trap beat bleeds from the speakers and the room seems to buzz with life all at once. A few squeals and cheers fill the air as people rush to the dance floor at the center and begin dancing wildly. You laugh, shocked that the boys managed to liven up this party in a matter of minutes.

They walk back over to your table with self-satisfied smirks on their faces. You smile widely at them as they approach. “That was awesome! How did you manage that?”

“I just hacked into the speaker system and synced up my music playlist.” Jeongguk looks rather bashful but still proud as he flashes you a sweet smile.

“Shall we dance, then?” Hoseok bows with a flourish and you giggle fondly, nodding excitedly. You glance over your shoulder and spot Sheena still with Jimin except now he has his hand out in a question and she takes it before following the pink-haired man to the dance floor.

You don’t feel so good anymore but you’re determined not to let some prick ruin your night. So, you turn back to the boys resolutely and lead them into the throng of writhing bodies.

Jeongguk and Hoseok, you quickly learn, are incredible dancers. The power with which the two of them move is truly a sight to behold and you’re having a hard time keeping up. You manage to have a good time, though; when Jeongguk sees you struggling, he strikes a ridiculous pose and makes up the silliest moves, making you laugh merrily.

Unfortunately, you can’t keep your gaze from flitting over to Jimin and Sheena every so often. They seem to be getting awfully close, you think as Jimin pulls your friend close to him and the sight is almost too much. Why, you’re not sure and you don’t want to let yourself think about it. You thought you were being discreet about it but Hoseok seems to notice your shift in demeanor.

“You’ve been moping for the past few minutes now.” He nods at something over your shoulder and you know exactly what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you go ask him to dance?”

Your eyes flicker back to the happy couple of their own volition and you spot Sheena leaning up to whisper something in Jimin’s ear. You wish you were anywhere but here.

“What? No, I— That’s not…no,” you finish lamely, knowing full well that was not the least bit convincing but not finding the will to care. Hoseok looks unimpressed and you’re about to reassure him when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“May I cut in?” The velvety smooth voice caresses your skin and god you wish he’d stop appearing everywhere. You’re almost rendered speechless as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, soft and playful with an undercurrent of mischief that both intrigues and irritates you. You glance at Jeongguk and Hoseok but they merely share a look, smirking at each other as they not-so-subtly back away from the two of you. Left with no other option, you gently sway to the beat of the song, allowing yourself to fall in rhythm with Jimin.

It’s awkwardly silent for the first few moments before Jimin finally pipes up.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He steps minutely closer to you and all you can see is Sheena pressed up against him as she whispers in his ear. An inexplicable anger flashes through you.

“Why do you make it so easy to hate you?” you fire back.

Jimin raises a brow at your tone but otherwise shows no outward reaction to your hostility. It only serves to irritate you further.

Just to make matters worse, he starts laughing. It’s a soft, tinkling sound and you hate how much you like it. “I think I know why.”

“You don’t know shit,” you spit, fists clenching at your sides. You have half a mind to smack him right there on the dance floor but you know it would only cause a scene. That’s the last thing you need on this night from hell.

Suddenly, he grasps your waist and spins you around so that your back is pressed to his front. You try to squirm away but he’s surprisingly strong, keeping you locked in place with one hand around your waist and the other caressing up the length of your body. You tremble as he begins to sway.

“I think you like me.” The words are nothing but a whisper, soft breaths fanning out across your skin and creating goosebumps in their wake. The music has slowed significantly and you can feel the bass reverberating through your chest.

“L-Like hell I do!” You curse internally at the way your voice stutters but he merely laughs, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Then why can I feel you shaking?” Jimin guides your hips with his, coaxing your body to move according to his whim. You feel him along every dip and curve to the point you’re not even sure where he ends and you begin. It’s sensual and dizzying and ridiculously sexy.

“Because I can’t stand the feeling of your hands on me.” You’re desperate to hold onto some shred of your dignity, no matter how slim, but then you feel the tip of his nose glide up the length of your neck and your brain short-circuits. You only just manage to reign in the urge to bare yourself to him, to submit, but you’ll be damned if you let him have any more control over you.

“Then why haven’t you pulled away yet, hmm?” You swear you feel his lips brush your shoulder and your eyes slip closed of their own accord. “I’m not even holding you anymore.”

It takes a second for his words to register but when they do, it’s as if he’s dumped a bucket of cold water over you. Your eyes snap open as you realize his arm is no longer holding you in place but merely draped across your middle in a loose embrace. You could pull yourself free if you just moved slightly forward.

You’re not even sure when that happened and you know he knows this. This is just a game to him and you? You’re just another plaything at his disposal. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you practically rip yourself away from Jimin as if you’ve been burned.

“I-I have to go.”

“Wait—” Jimin starts to say but you don’t wait around long enough to hear him out. You’ve seen and heard enough for one night,

Grabbing your purse, you all but run out of the ballroom, barely remembering to shoot Sheena a text that you were heading back to the room early. Tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, especially not over the likes of Park Jimin. He’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a man looking for a quick lay. He’s not worth it, you desperately try to remind yourself.

But somehow, as you wait for the elevator, as you feel the ghost of his touch on your waist and the soft caress of his breath on your skin, your heart refuses to believe that as the truth.

It’s been 3 days since what you’ve deemed as The Incident, and you’re happy to report that you have yet to see Park Jimin.

Of course, you’ve seen him—you’re on a tour together after all—but you’ve made it a point to actively ignore him any chance you get. Sometimes you’ll run into Hobi (as he’s reminded you numerous times to call him) or Jeongguk and talk to them for a while but you don’t linger too long, for fear he’ll just pop up out of nowhere. You feel bad because you genuinely like the other boys but every time you catch sight of Jimin’s pink cotton candy head, your heart beats a little faster and your skin runs a little warmer and you just can’t handle that headache right now.

The Eurail train has stopped in a quaint little town on the way to Zürich and you decide to take the opportunity to stretch your legs. Besides, the sooner you get off the train, the less likely you’ll have an encounter with the object of your (des)ire.

Stepping down gently, glance around the station and spot a little road that leads further into the town. You don’t really have a destination in mind, figuring you’ll just walk for a little and then make your way back. You walk until you spot a quaint little souvenir shop and decide to check it out.

A familiar head of pink by the cashier makes you pause in the doorway and you nearly turn around to walk right out but he sees you and calls you over.

“___! Come over here, I need your help.”

You shift from foot to foot. You could just ignore him and continue on your way but the guilt that would follow would be unbearable. So you swallow your pride and make your way over to him, silent and cautious.

As you approach, you see him pouring over a small spread of trinkets. They’re little handmade pieces of jewelry—rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. They’re quite cute and would normally have you grinning and cooing but your present company puts a bit of a damper on that for you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he begins nonchalantly. He doesn’t look up as you approach and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed or grateful.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I’ve been…busy.”

Jimin looks at you then, a single brow raised that tells you he doesn’t believe you, which is fair. You don’t even believe you. “We’re on a tour of Europe together. What could you possibly be doing?”

You don’t really have an answer for that so you remain silent.

“Okay, nevermind that,” his voice brightens up significantly and you’re marginally grateful for the fact that he’s changing the subject. “Help me pick out a souvenir to take back home!”

A smile plays around the corner of your lips and you quickly bite it back. You will not be endeared by him. Your eyes catch on a small bracelet and you can’t help but fall in love instantly. It’s a delicate gold chain threaded with beautiful black pearls, a small pink flower resting on the end near the clasp. Your lips part as you stare at it for a little too long and you quickly snap yourself out of it to look back at Jimin. He’s already staring at you with a soft look in his eyes. The expression makes your heart clench so you look away, clearing your throat again.

“I-I don’t know,” you dismiss, glancing out the window where you can just barely make out the train. “Just pick something, we’ve gotta get back to the train soon.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down, sweetheart. Gimme two minutes.”

You check your phone impatiently, noting the time. The conductor had said you were stopping for about half an hour before you would be on your way again. You don’t remember the exact time you stopped but you know it’s getting close to the time you should be leaving.

“Sweetheart, can you come here a second? I always forget which coins are which.” Jimin beckons you over, a collection of francs in his palm and you send another despairing glance at the train.

“Jimin, I have no clue but come on, we’ve gotta go!”

You decide to stop waiting on his slow ass and run out of the shop. You make it to the platform just in time to see the train pulling away. Jimin takes a bit longer than you, practically having to sprint after you, but he stops abruptly as he notices the retreating train.

He starts to laugh in disbelief and you can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. All your luggage and most of your money is on that train. And now you’re stranded out here, with Park Jimin no less. You try to hold back but you feel a few tears slip down your cheeks as the train disappears from view.

Jimin seems to notice your distress because he begins to panic a little himself. “S-Sweetheart, come on. It’s okay! Look, at least you’re not alone. I’m here with you!”

That only makes you cry harder, a small sob escaping your lips as you smother your face between your hands. Jimin falls silent, unsure how to handle your emotional display but doesn’t leave your side. It’s both comforting and confusing.

It takes a few minutes but you eventually regain your composure, adamant in avoiding Jimin’s probing gaze. You can’t believe you cried in front of him like a child. You’re embarrassed and annoyed and tired but you channel that energy into fixing yourself up to look like a functioning human being and marching over to the ticket booth and finding out the next train to Zürich. Just your luck, the next train isn’t until tomorrow morning. You quickly text your friends what happened, letting them know you’re safe and that you’ll meet them in Zürich tomorrow afternoon. You sigh, wondering how what should have been an exciting trip turned into such a mess.

“So what’s the damage?” Jimin asks. Oh, right. That’s how. You fight not to roll your eyes as you relay the information. “Oh, that’s no problem! We can just—”

“Oh no,” you cut him off abruptly, seething with annoyance. He thinks you want to spend any length of time with him after he made you both miss your train? Not a chance. “We are not doing anything, I am going to find my own way to Zürich. You’re the reason we’re stuck here in the first place. I want nothing to do with you.”

Jimin looks taken aback but then his expression hardens. “Listen here, sweetheart, I know you’re pissed but you’re being a bit of a bitch. I’m sorry I made us miss the train but splitting up is the literal worst thing we could do right now. This is not to patronize you but you are a woman alone in a foreign country, I’m not about to abandon you just because you don’t like me. Now let’s just play nice and try to find a place to stay for the night so we can catch the first train out of here and be on our merry way. Deal?”

You blink, surprised by the force of his outburst. Fuck. He’s right. You know he’s right and the wave of shame that overtakes you is well-deserved. You duck your head, thoroughly chastised, and nod at him, following his lead as he turns around and begins walking back in the direction of the town. Glancing at him timidly, you murmur a soft apology.

He turns his head in your direction but doesn’t look at you. “What was that?”

You huff, squaring your shoulders. “I’m sorry, okay? You were right.”

Jimin looks at you then, a blinding smile on his face and you feel your body relax a little. At least he’s not mad at you.

“No problem, sweetheart. Things like this happen. We just gotta make the most of it.” He falls in step with you so that you’re no longer trailing slightly behind and the gesture warms your heart just a bit.

“Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?” You thought it was just a cheap way to endear himself to you, especially back when he didn’t know your name but the way he says it doesn’t feel gross. It feels almost…nice.

“Oh, uh,” Jimin rubs the back of his neck a little shyly, the beginnings of a blush staining his cheeks, and you can’t help the swell of affection. “Sorry. It just kinda…stuck?”

“No, it’s…it’s fine.” You look away, suddenly finding the scuffed material of your shoe very interesting.

Clearing his throat, Jimin forces out a gruff, “Good,” and the two of you fall into a companionable silence.

Eventually, you stumble across a small inn a little ways into town, about a 25 minute walk from the train station. Jimin ducks inside, asserting that he’ll handle the cost of the room to make amends. You try not to smile after him as he leaves.

Key in hand, Jimin leads you to a small but cozy room on the third floor. It’s very quaint, a single bed dominating the room with an old settee off by the window. There’s even a small fireplace and a tea set. You slip your purse off your shoulder as you settle near the mantle.

“Wow, what a cute room!” Sitting on the couch, you marvel at its soft texture. “Where’s yours?”

“Yeah, about that…” Jimin hasn’t really moved from his spot by the door, rubbing at his neck again in what you recognize as a nervous tick. “This was the only room they had so, uh, we gotta share?”

“What?” You blink, hoping that he’s joking.

“I-I know that it sounds weird but there really was no other option. I’ve already decided to sleep on the couch and you can—”

“Listen, I am fine with sticking together and getting back to our friends but this is just— I can’t…I can’t share a room with you.” You stand up abruptly but you don’t have any idea what to do with yourself.

“Why not?” Jimin seems confused and honestly, you are too. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, especially since you’ve kinda-sorta made up but this is little more than you can handle.

Glancing at him, you shake your head, words failing you. How can you explain that you just feel too much for him to be comfortable around him? How do you tell him that you’re having second thoughts about him being a total pain in the ass or about the stutter in your heart whenever he so much as glances at you? You can’t so you just send him a helpless look before storming out of the room, a flush on your cheeks and a heaviness in the pit of your stomach.

You don’t know where you’re going but anywhere is better than in there with the man that forces you to confront your feelings. Shaking your head, you figure you’ll explore the town a little. You could use the fresh air.

Jimin doesn’t know what else to do.

He’s willing to admit he fucked up with you at that party. He never should have come on that strong but you had looked so beautiful and, even though they were his friends, seeing you with Hobi and Jeongguk had ignited such a strong feeling of jealousy that he was helpless to do anything but whisk you away in his arms. He had spent that night tossing and turning in his bed. Now that he knew what you felt like in his arms, his mind refused to think of anything else.

But then you had run away and Jimin knew that he had crossed a line. He just wanted to tease you, maybe fluster you a bit, but never had he wanted to scare you off. You intrigued him. You were funny and sweet—to your friends at least—and it was quite fun to fluster you with his charms. He knew it was simply a physiological reaction, having nothing to do with any actual attraction to him as a person, but he was willing to take what he could get from you.

That, as it turns out, is absolutely nothing. He thought he was making progress with you. First and foremost, he realized at some point, he wants to be your friend. He enjoys your company and likes your attitude. It doesn’t hurt that he finds you absolutely stunning but he figures he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. Right now, his main focus is getting you to like him and every time he thinks he’s close, something happens and you’re back to despising him. One step forward, two steps back.

Speaking of you, it’s been a few hours since you’d stormed out of the room in a flustered mess. Jimin didn’t understand why sharing a room with him was such a big deal but he respects you enough to recognize that your feelings are your feelings and he should just accept them. He’s beginning to grow worried, though, as the sun has just set on the horizon. It’ll be dark soon and he doesn’t even want to think about what could happen to you, a beautiful young woman, alone on the streets of an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night.

He checks his phone and curses when he realizes that he still doesn’t have your phone number. It’s decided then; he has to go looking for you. Jimin leaps off the bed, grabbing his wallet from his bag and stuffing the room key inside, before practically sprinting out of the inn.

Jimin’s not sure how long he searches for you but the light has long-since faded from the sky and the street lights have come on. He’s pretty sure he’s stopped in every shop and establishment along the length of the main road but he has yet to see any sign of you. He wants to keep looking but his stomach gives a ravenous growl and he forces himself to stop and take a break. You’re out here somewhere; he can just stop quickly and then continue his search once he’s gotten something into his stomach.

Ducking into a random bar, Jimin runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s about to head to the bar at the back of the place when he spots you sitting on one of the stools, hunched over a drink. Jimin’s not religious but he thanks every god above that you’re alright. All thoughts of food vanish as relief floods his body, nearly knocking him over with the force of it.

“Hey, sweetheart, you nearly gave me a heart attack. You can’t just run off like that—”

“Jiminie~!” you cry with a dopey grin on your face as you swivel around to look at him. And, you’re drunk. Figures.

“Jiminie, I saw the cutest puppy when I was outside and I wanted to take a picture but my phone died and so I couldn’t and I was so sad—”

You start rambling about how much you love puppies and Jimin just rolls his eyes fondly as he pays the tab and decides to get you home, hunger long-forgotten. Eventually he gets you out of the bar and the both of you start walking back to the inn albeit a bit slowly.

You suddenly speak up out of nowhere. “You know, I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jimin can’t help the bitterness that creeps into his tone but he keeps his expression neutral.

“It’s because of your face.”

“What about my face?”

“It’s too pretty. Like what the fuck?? It’s not fair. You’re pretty and handsome and sexy as fuck and it’s just not fair.”

Jimin smiles to himself but tries to sound teasing. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Duh, I may hate you but I’m not blind.” A beat. “Okay maybe I don’t hate you. I hate that you make me feel things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah, things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Bad things. My heart hurts when you talk to me but also when you talk to other girls? But I can’t like you. You’re a flirt. And I don’t like flirts. But I like you.” You seem to realize what you just said because you gasp dramatically. “WAIT, NO I DON'T! Well… kinda. Woah, I’m dizzy.”

You stumble and Jimin catches you, amusement swimming in his eyes as he gazes fondly while you struggle to keep yourself upright. As the pair of you walk towards the inn, you catch sight of a fountain in the middle of the town square and bolt upright, running over to it.

It’s quite pretty, even Jimin will admit. It’s relatively small, carved out of a sand-colored stone in a pretty, almost chalice-like design. Water trickles from a spout on the top where it makes its way down to the pool. Spouts surrounding the round rim all spray a thin stream of water toward the center and little lights within the pool illuminate the coin-covered bottom.

“I’ve always wanted to jump into a fountain!” you say as you stop in front of the structure to admire it.

“Why?!”

“I don’t know, I saw it in a movie once and it looked fun!”

Jimin glances over to you nervously and tries to grab your arm surreptitiously. “Well, maybe we should do that another time. You know, when you’re not—”

SPLASH!

“—drunk,” he finishes with a sigh.

You giggle in delight as you splash around, fully clothed, in the shallow fountain and Jimin can’t help the swell of affection as he watches you smile brightly. He’s never seen you smile like that before and he wishes he could be the cause of it.

You catch sight of the coins resting on the bottom of the fountain and you gasp dramatically, begging Jimin for a franc to toss in. Jimin laughs but acquiesces, lending you a hand as you struggle to get out of the fountain, dripping water all over the pavement. He watches you fondly as you clutch the coin with both hands up to your face and whisper into it like a prayer, swaying slightly because you are still a little drunk after all, and all he can think is he could watch you forever.

You abruptly open your eyes and throw the coin in, smiling softly as you wave at your coin. God, you’re precious.

“So… What’d you wish for?”

You look scandalized. “I can’t tell you!”

“Why not?”

“Then it won’t come true,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Jimin wonders if it’s possible to die of smiling too much.

“Ah, I see.”

You start shivering. “I’m cold.”

“That’s what happens when you jump into a fountain in the middle of the night, sweetheart” Jimin shrugs off his jacket and wraps you up in it. It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. You snuggle into the fabric, shivering again.

“I like when you call me that. My heart doesn’t hurt anymore when you say it.”

Something tightens in Jimin’s heart and he’s overwhelmed with it, petting your hair softly. “Then I’ll say it for the rest of your life, sweetheart.” He whispers the words like they’re something sacred. He thinks they are.

Going slack in his hold, you lean heavily against him and your eyelashes flutter prettily as you struggle to stay awake.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jimin says and he can’t stop the tender way his voice caresses the nickname or the reverence in his touch as he slips an arm around your waist.

“Let’s go home.”

You’ve only been awake for a matter of seconds and you already want to die.

You have a splitting headache and your mouth feels like sandpaper. Well yeah that’s what happens when you drink too much, genius. You don’t even remember what happened after your visit to the bar but you figure it was nothing good.

You glance down at your clothes and find an unfamiliar t-shirt and a pair of shorts on your body. There’s clothes strewn across the room, on the bed, on the floor and your heart crawls into your throat. Now you’re concerned. What the hell happened?

Just then Jimin comes in with breakfast, some water, and, bless his soul, ibuprofen.

“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” his voice sounds soft, softer than you’ve ever heard and you’re confused but also swooning? It’s a strange combination.

“Uh yeah, I-I guess I did. What happened last night?” You wince as you move to sit up. Damn, what did you do to make you so sore?

“Last night did quite a number on you, I’ll tell you that.” He laughs as he sets down the tray on the side table, perching himself on the edge of the bed as he looks at you. “How much did you have to drink exactly?”

“Uh, I kinda lost count after my fifth or sixth vodka soda.” You scratch your head in embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, how are you alive?” Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. Leave it to you, he figures.

He hands you some water, which you chug gratefully, and take care to swallow the pills. He watches you, irises warm and pretty and you don’t like the way your heart flutters against your ribcage.

“You were incorrigible last night,” Jimin chuckles and you stiffen. What the fuck does that mean? “You kept pulling me in every direction, hanging off me at any given chance.” His voice is light and teasing and far too casual for what he’s suggesting.

Suddenly it clicks. The clothes strewn everywhere, the soreness, the strange tenderness in Jimin’s voice.

Holy shit. Holy fuck.

You slept with him.

You fucking slept with him.

Jimin is still talking but you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.

“We slept together,” you whisper in disbelief and Jimin immediately stops rambling about whatever the fuck and you’re still reeling with the realization that you fucking slept with him.

“What?” He seems confused but you can’t think about his emotions when yours are swirling around violently in your head, increasing the pounding against your skull and making you want to throw up.

“You fucking slept with me while I was drunk? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jimin’s eyes widen so much that it would be almost comical if you weren’t absolutely devastated. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

But you’re not listening anymore. You can’t, not with the way the blood is rushing too loudly in your ears, or the way your heart has crawled so far up your throat you think you could choke.

Logically, you know this is not the worst thing in the world, that it may be a bit of an overreaction, but you can’t shake the feeling of wrongness that permeates your body when you think about what a vulnerable position you were in last night. Stupid, you think. How could you be so stupid? A desperate sob meets your ears and you’re all too aware that the gasping breaths are coming from you.

You can hear Jimin trying to reason with you but your body reacts violently, slapping his hands away every time he tries to reach for you. You cry, arms wrapping around your body in an attempt to hold yourself together but you can’t stop the tremors wracking your frame.

“___! Sweetheart, please, will you just—!”

“No! Get away from me!”

You try to push him, shove him, hit him, but it’s futile and you only cry harder. Finally, Jimin decides enough is enough.

“Listen to me, ___. Listen to me.” Jimin’s hands come up to cradle your head, gentle but firm. His voice leaves no room for argument and you let out a pathetic whimper but look into his eyes nonetheless.

“I know what you think of me. I know you think I’m the scum of the earth, that I'm a flirt and a tease, and maybe I am those things but I am not a monster. Do you hear me? I may push boundaries and irritate you but I would never, ever dream of crossing that line without your explicit and enthusiastic consent.”

His eyes blaze into yours with a passion you’ve never seen before. He looks serious and stern, but most of all he looks hurt. You did that. Before you can go any further with your self-hatred, he continues. “You were drunk and wet and I needed to get you into a change of clothes. I am telling you the truth when I say nothing happened last night. Believe me, please?”

You stare into his eyes for an immeasurable amount of time, back and forth between his irises and you feel all the tension within you release, as if his touch is a balm you never knew you needed to an ache you never knew you had.

Another whimper escapes you and you throw yourself into Jimin’s arms then, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again and he just embraces you, shushing you as he strokes your hair oh so gently.

You stay like that for a long time, simply relishing in the warmth of his body, before you realize what you’re doing. Jimin seems to come back into himself as well because you both pull away from each other at the same time, albeit a bit bashfully.

“Um, so. Why don’t you go get dressed, hm? We’ve got a train to catch.” He starts to move off the bed but turns back to you with a glimmer in his eye. “I will be needing my shirt, though…” He goes to move closer to you as though he were going to take the shirt himself. You lean back instinctively but relax at his wide grin, soft giggle escaping his lips as he leaves you to it.

You gaze after him, a fond smile curving at your lips as you wipe at your tear-stained cheeks, and your heart is too light to worry about anything else.

Refreshed and ready to go, you pull up to the train station almost an hour before your scheduled train. It may be overkill but you are not missing another train, thank you very much.

While you wait, Jimin gets you both coffee, for which you are eternally grateful. You sit on one of the benches, swinging your legs happily as you sip your drink. Neither of you speak but it’s a comfortable silence. Who would have thought you would get to feel so comfortable around Jimin?

“Let’s play a game” Jimin pipes up out of nowhere. You laugh at his innocent suggestion and decide to humor him.

“Alright I’m down. Whatcha wanna play?”

“Twenty Questions!” He looks so excited you can’t help but tease.

“What are we, 14?”

“If you don’t wanna play, all you have to do is say so, you don’t have to be mean about it.” He pouts and you laugh if only to stifle the urge to coo at him and pinch his cheeks.

“Fine I’ll bite. You go first.”

“What’s your most embarrassing kink?”

You smack him upside the head and roll your eyes. “Next.”

The questions continue back and forth for a few minutes, some of them serious, most of them anything but. You laugh until your stomach hurts about the time he got into an argument with his best friend over a dumpling incident.

“Listen, it was a very serious argument—”

“Over dumplings.”

“Excuse you, dumplings are very important, I’ll have you know—”

You laugh as he puffs his cheeks out at you. He even looks like a dumpling and you tell him as much, earning another pout from the man. Eventually the topic shifts to more personal things.

“Okay, okay, serious one now,” Jimin says and there’s an unreadable look in his eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

The question is unexpected and you have to think for a moment. Have you ever been in love? You’re not really sure.

“Dunno,” you shrug.

“You don’t know? How could you not know?”

“I’m just not sure if what I felt was love or…something else.”

“Valid, I guess.” He falls silent for a moment before speaking. “I know for a fact I never have.”

This surprises you. “What? A guy like you? Surely, you’ve been in love before.”

“A guy like me?” Jimin smirks as he side-eyes you.

“Y-Yeah you know flirts with anything with a pulse.”

“Okay, rude.” You both laugh but sober up pretty quickly. “But yeah no. I’ve had a few flings or whatever but never anything I could call love, you know? Just…never really met the right person.”

“What kind of person are you looking for?”

“Well…” He sits up a little straighter in his seat. “I don’t have, like, an ideal type or anything but…all I know is, that when I see them—the person I’m meant to be with—all my heart’s desires and dreams will come true. And maybe that makes me naive or whatever but I feel like I’ll know when I see them. Maybe not immediately, it might take some time, but I believe my soul will recognize its other half.”

You sit there, shocked and dazed. You hadn’t expected such a serious answer from him. “I— That’s…that’s beautiful.”

“You should hear Jeongguk talk about it.” He laughs softly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Says he’ll hear bells or something. He’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah he is…” You’re still a little dazed hearing him speak so passionately about love. It makes you feel painfully inadequate.

“What about you? What kind of person could sweep the ever-elusive ___ off her feet?”

You pause, unsure how to answer. “Oh, uh… I’ve never actually thought about it? I don’t know, I’ve always felt like, if I think about it too much, I’ll get too excited. I’ve always been the overexcited type.” Jimin chuckles, remembering the other night. He knows that all too well.

“But, uh, yeah. If I think about it, I’ll anticipate it, I’ll wait for it, and if it doesn’t come well… that’ll make the disappointment that much more upsetting.”

Jimin frowns. “Why wouldn’t it come?”

“I-I don’t know.” You fidget with your fingers, insecure. “What if… What if I never meet someone? What if I do and my heart—my soul—never recognizes its other half?” You look into Jimin’s eyes. “What if I’m just alone?”

His gaze holds yours for an immeasurable amount of time.

“I think,” he says slowly, and you find yourself hanging off of every word, “that you’re overcomplicating it. Sure, life has its disappointments but it comes with the territory. Having things to look forward to makes life worth living, even if it’s something as simple as waking up the next morning.”

Jimin inches his hand slowly over to where yours rests on the grainy wood of the bench. He nudges your pinky with his own, wrapping your digit with his. It’s a small gesture but it fills you with an inexplicable warmth.

“All I’m saying is, it’s okay to want.” He says it with such conviction that you desperately want to believe him. “And it’s okay to feel disappointed if you don’t get what you want. But don’t let that stop you from doing it.”

You’re silent again but you can’t look away. The words come rushing out before you can stop them. “And what if I already do? Want, I mean.”

His eyes flick between both of yours and you fight a shiver. “Then it’s your job to do something about it.”

The sound of the train’s whistle breaks the moment and you find yourself taking in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You glance at the approaching train before looking shyly at Jimin.

“The train is coming. Wouldn’t wanna miss it again.” You try to joke but you can’t seem to shake the residual tension from before.

“And yet,” Jimin hums, barely above a whisper, “I find that I want to miss the train again and again.”

The trip wraps up almost too quickly for your liking.

When the two of you reunite with your friends in Zürich, it’s as if something has changed. You find yourself glancing at Jimin more often than not, and he’s almost always staring right back at you. It should unnerve you, you think, but you feel…calm, almost peaceful knowing his eyes are on you. Powerful. You also find yourself thinking about him a lot, often at night once the lights are cut and all your friends are asleep. You can’t shake his words.

It’s okay to want.

It seems obvious; of course it’s okay for you to want things. But when he said it, it was as if he had opened up a whole new world to you. Had you been unintentionally stifling your own desires? What did you want? You can feel something niggling at the edge of your consciousness but it disappears when you try to pinpoint the feeling, like stars when you look too hard at them. It frustrates you and you want to talk to him but where you actively had to avoid him before your little detour, you can’t seem to find him alone for longer than a cursory greeting. An ache has settled low in your stomach and the feeling of something missing pervades you for days after. You don’t sleep well until the end of the tour.

You’re sadder than you thought you’d be to leave this trip but you chalk it up to how much fun you’ve had over the last two weeks. Definitely does not have anything to do with a certain pink-haired man. Absolutely not.

“Be sure to keep in touch, yeah?” Hobi smiles his beautiful sunshiny smile and you can do nothing but return it, pulling him into a warm hug.

“Of course! We’ll have to hit up a karaoke bar together. You know, one that you haven’t been kicked out of.” You elbow him in the ribs playfully.

“That was one time and I told you that to bond! You can’t make fun of me!” But his smile is just as bright if not brighter and you’re really going to miss him.

You turn to Jeongguk and pull him into a hug as well. “It was so great getting to meet you. Now I know who to call when I need to liven up a party.”

Flashing you his signature toothy grin, he practically bounces in place. “Anytime, ___. We should definitely hang soon!” After nodding your assent, you wave a final time as he joins Hobi and leaves the platform.

Your friends hug you and tell you they’ll see you later. With a wave, you send them off until you’re left with only one other person. Bracing yourself, you turn around and face Jimin with a shy smile. Your heart gives a dull throb but you ignore it.

“So,” you both begin before collapsing into nervous giggles. God, were you always so awkward? “You first,” he smiles.

“This is it, huh,” you marvel, reminiscing over the last few days. You can’t believe just two weeks ago you two were strangers, enemies even, and now you’re… Well, you’re not sure what you are but it’s definitely an improvement from your first encounter. “Can’t believe two weeks went by so quickly…”

“I know. Seems like just yesterday I was pulling your late ass onto the train,” Jimin smirks at you and you shove his shoulder.

“Yeah and making inappropriate comments about my underwear.” You glare at him playfully but it dissolves into a smile when you see his sheepish grin.

“I never did properly apologize for that, did I?” He scratches the back of his head and you melt at the familiar gesture.

“Hey, no worries. We’re cool.” Silence befalls the two of you. It seems to happen a lot recently, but it’s not a bad silence, just a thoughtful one. “Thank you. For everything.”

“It was no problem, sweetheart.” There’s something lurking in the depths of his eyes but you don’t dwell on it.

“Friends?” You stick out your hand between you. You can’t discern why Jimin’s face looks so drawn but the expression disappears just as quickly as you notice it, replaced by a beautiful smile.

“Friends,” he repeats, soft as he grasps your hand almost reverently.

You look into his eyes and you once again find yourself trapped. The seconds tick on and you can’t bring yourself to remove your hand from his. His grip feels warm and comforting. Right. You don’t know if you want to think about what that might mean.

Inhaling deeply, you finally muster up the will to let go of his hand, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Jimin looks just as reluctant but plasters a smile. You return it, confused as to why there seems to be so much tension but you figure it’s the sadness of parting. Sending a last lingering wave, you go to turn when you feel a hand grip your wrist. You turn in surprise, a question in your eyes.

“I just… I have something for you.” Jimin lets you go for a moment to pull out a small box. He hands it to you, bashful. You accept it gently and slide the lid open. Inside, is the bracelet from that souvenir shop. The black pearls gleam back at you in the fluorescent light of the station and you have the strangest urge to cry. You look up at him, touched beyond belief.

“You—”

“May I?” He gestures to the bracelet and it takes a second for you to understand what he’s asking, too caught up in his thoughtfulness, but you nod silently when you do. You’re not sure you trust your voice right now.

Jimin beams, delicately taking the bracelet out of the box and wrapping the thin gold chain around your wrist. He clasps it securely so that the pink flower just brushes the inside of your wrist. Your skin tingles where he grazes you and the warmth spreads throughout your body until you’re filled with it. You look up at Jimin, eyes shining a little and you do your best to blink them back.

“I saw you looking at it back at the shop. Figured you’d like it.”

“I love it,” you whisper and you feel like it means so much more.

“Well…” Jimin clears his throat and steps away to a more appropriate distance. You hadn’t even realized you were practically on top of him. “I guess I should get going.”

“Yeah, you— I-I should head out, too.” You don’t want him to go, you realize, but you have nothing to convince him to stay. So you let him go.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jimin.”

You both back away slowly from each other, as if to extend the moment just a bit longer. He doesn’t look away from you and so you don’t either. Eventually, you have to turn around to actually watch where you’re going. When you look back, he’s gone.

There’s a lingering emptiness in your chest as you walk home, not even bothering with a taxi this time. The feeling of something missing has only worsened, and now it’s at its peak. You’re worried that you’ve missed your chance to find it and the knowledge that it might be too late lingers like an intrusive thought.

You deflate, shoulders hunching protectively as you make your way through the city. From what you’re protecting yourself from, you’re not sure. The bracelet on your wrist feels heavy, like a shackle, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it without feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin.

Just under two weeks have passed since the Eurail tour and you haven’t felt the same since.

You expected it somewhat. That’s what traveling does to you. It makes you appreciate the beauty of the world, shows you a new way of life, and changes your perspective and you never leave a new place the same as when you enter it. But the reason for this change has nothing to do with the wonders of a new country.

No, it centers on one person. Park Jimin.

It doesn’t take you long to realize what the emptiness means, to recognize the shape of the hole that has permanently taken up residence in your heart. You find yourself plagued by it at night, tossing and turning until you eventually fall into a fitful and restless sleep.

He starts to permeate every facet of your life. It first begins with the dreams, your memories teasing you with glimpses of his round face and delicate cheeks, of warm brown eyes that seem to look right through you to your core, smoldering. Then it escalates quickly to lingering touches on the back of your hand when you know you’re alone or the bracelet on your wrist will suddenly feel too hot, like a brand, and it’s like he’s surrounding you—his arms around your waist, his scent filling your lungs, his breath cooling your feverish skin. You feel suffocated but the illusions leave you more empty each time.

Finally it gets worse; you start to see him everywhere. On your way to work, to the grocery store, to the bank—it doesn’t matter but your mind always tricks you into thinking you’ve caught sight of the familiar shock of pink hair or his signature leather jacket. Each time sends you reeling and you reach out briefly only for the haze to clear and you remember how very much alone you are. You even start to hallucinate his voice, the way sweetheart would flow so easily from his lips, a balm to your searing heart, and you think you might need to start seeing someone about this. It can’t be healthy.

Still, life goes on and so do you—for the most part anyway. You still work at the little convenience store around the corner from your apartment just to fill the time since there are no classes for you to take. You’re still waiting to hear back from schools about graduate programs but you don’t worry about it too much. You’re confident in your grades and your abilities to know you’ll be okay, it’s just a matter of time.

Your shift passes relatively quickly, time seeming even more meaningless since returning from your trip. You fiddle with your phone, shooting a quick text to Sheena confirming that you’ll see her tomorrow for dinner. You’re not really up for it but you haven’t seen much of anyone in the last two weeks and you miss her so you decide to go.

Which reminds you, Hobi had managed to get your number and text you, asking if you wanted to go out next weekend with him and Jeongguk. You want to go but you’re not sure if you can get through an evening of them without thinking of a certain pink-haired man. Sighing, you glance at the time and note that it’s time to shut down the registers and begin closing.

Just as you turn around the grab the money bag from underneath the counter, you hear the bell of the door tinkle open.

“Sorry,” you call, straightening as you reach for the register keys, “we’re actually clos—” Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh, god, I’m actually going insane,” is what makes it out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

Before you stands the object of your hallucinations in all his pink-haired glory. You blink several times, hoping the image will disappear quickly. When it doesn’t, your jaw goes slack.

Jimin looks just as shocked as you do but recovers faster. Of course he does.

“___?”

You inhale sharply, trying to focus but it’s hard when he’s right in front of you and god, you’re not prepared for this—

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, are you alright?” The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like a gentle caress, and a strange feeling of relief fills you. Jimin approaches the register carefully, as if worried he’d scare you away if he moved too quickly. Maybe he’s right.

Your eyes drink him in greedily despite everything. He looks…good. An orange short-sleeved shirt with white and navy blue accents is tucked stylishly into a pair of black jeans that hug his legs nicely. You feel very insecure all of a sudden in your work uniform and you duck your head shyly. Finally, you find your voice as you clear your throat and tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“H-How are you?” You wince at how small your voice sounds. Your heart flutters so fast in your chest you struggle to catch your breath but at the same time…it’s the first time you’ve been able to truly breathe.

Jimin’s eyes soften and he smiles that smile that makes your knees weak. “I’m good. Very good. I— Are you closing up now?”

“Yeah, I’m, yeah. If you give me, like, 20 minutes, we can head out, together?” It comes out like a question but Jimin is nodding before you can even second-guess yourself and you’re running around like a madwoman trying to clear the register and finish restocking the last box from storage. After a final cursory glance and a mental run-down of your closing checklist, you deem yourself ready to leave. You spare Jimin a quick smile, motioning him to follow you out and you close up shop.

“My, um,” you begin, unsure if it’s too forward for you to say this but you’re tired of constantly running around in circles to avoid your emotions. It’s time to face them head-on, dammit! “My apartment is just a few blocks over if you…if you wanted to stop over for some tea?”

You hold your breath for some reason as you wait for his response. His answering smile is dazzling. “Tea sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”

You don’t remember the walk to your apartment, which is literally around the corner, ever feeling so long. You’re all too aware of his proximity, can feel the faint warmth he emanates from his body, and you find yourself too preoccupied with the way his arm brushes yours as you walk side-by-side. Neither of you speak but it’s comfortable, just like it was when you parted. Though you are anxious to see him, a sense of calm pervades deep within you and you welcome instead of ignore the feeling.

As you step into your apartment, you panic slightly as you struggle to remember if you’ve cleaned up enough while toeing off your shoes. You send a surreptitious glance around, satisfied that nothing looks too out of place as you lead Jimin into your small kitchen.

“Black or green?” you ask him, gazing up at him only to find him staring unabashedly at you. He startles, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught but does not look away.

“Black would be great.” You smile, nodding before setting up a kettle to boil on the stove before turning to him. You’re not sure where to begin but it seems you don’t have to.

“I missed you.”

Those few simple words send a pang through your heart and any resolve you had bleeds through you as you try not to melt into the floor.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, scared to speak too loudly and break the beautiful tension that’s building around you.

Jimin looks down at the floor, as if the knowledge that you missed him too was too much for him. “I-I thought about you. All the time.”

You soften, shuffling closer to him where he is braced against the fridge. His eyes are swimming with that familiar tenderness and you can actually recognize it. He looked at you the same way on that morning in the inn.

“I thought about you, too.” You feel more confident now. Something about knowing that he’s just as shy and uncertain makes you relax significantly. “God, I saw you everywhere. I thought I was going crazy.”

“I dreamt about you.” He says this in a rush, as if he thinks he needs to get to words out in case you stop him. With the way you’re hanging off every word, you think it’s safe to say you’re just as eager to listen as he is to speak. “About you, about us. I— I kept replaying the moment at the train station, thinking how stupid I was for letting you go—”

“Hey, hey, shh.” You close the distance between you, placing a gentle hand on his chest. “I let you go, too. We’re both a little stupid.”

Jimin breathes a laugh, tense shoulders relaxing as he fixates on your hand on his chest. “You’re still wearing it,” he breathes in wonder, bringing his own hand up to clasp yours as he inspects the bracelet still on your wrist.

“Yeah, I— It’s my favorite thing I own.” Jimin’s eyes practically melt into yours, the warm chestnut irises looking down at you with such fondness you can’t stop the swell of affection from rising within you. You think you’re going to burst from the amount of adoration and feelings swirling around inside you but it’s pleasant. You’re buzzing with excitement, no longer heavy with what ifs.

Jimin seems to realize how close you two actually are at the same time you do because his bright smile gradually fades as his gaze flickers down to your lips. The air stills around you and your breath hitches. Anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach, cloying and intoxicating.

“___,” he calls and you shiver a little at the sound of your name dripping from his lips like honey. “Sweetheart, may I kiss you?”

You nod, inhaling deeply. “Yes, please.”

Beaming, Jimin grasps the hand on his chest firmer and moves his other hand to cradle your cheek tenderly. He bends his head down, brushing your noses together sweetly. Your eyes slip closed of their own accord and you wait, lips parted as you feel his breath wash over you. A beat passes and suddenly you’re kissing, those plump lips that you’ve been dreaming about for days finally on yours. A tingle passes between your lips and you gasp, mouth parting more under the soft pressure of Jimin’s. He kisses you sweet and slow, as if savoring the taste of you. You feel his fingers thread their way into your hair to hold you in place more securely and you hum in satisfaction. Your other hand is gripping the material of his shirt at his waist and you shuffle a little closer, all too eager to feel his body against yours.

You melt into each other as you kiss, hardly breaking apart for air as you suck in greedy, rushed breaths from your nose. You’re content to just stay here forever but the loud screech of the kettle startles you into breaking the kiss. You both chuckle, exchanging a quick peck before you pull away gently to turn off the stove.

Jimin is not far behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your middle once the stove is off and you’re sure you won’t burn down your apartment. You smile to yourself before turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck, reaching up to nose along his jaw.

“Now where were we?” You smirk lightly against his skin when you feel him shiver beneath your hands. A rush of heat flashes through you as you think of all the ways you could have him now that he’s here, finally.

Jimin seems to be thinking the same because the hands on your waist tighten and you hiss in pleasure. “I believe I was kissing you breathless.” It’s his turn to tease this time as he grazes down the length of your neck and you bite back a moan at the soft, almost ticklish feeling of his lips against your throat.

“Hmm, I might need you to show me again. I don’t think I was breathless enough.” The words are false of course, compounded by the fact that you are currently struggling to get enough air.

“As you wish, sweetheart.” And with that, Jimin is on you again. You sigh into his mouth, reveling in the plush feel of his lips. He swallows the sound, pressing you further against him and you practically turn to jelly in his arms. He kisses you with a passion you had only just begun to feel before you were briefly interrupted and you can feel yourself getting swept up in it. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jimin swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips in a silent question and you swear your knees buckle from underneath you. You can’t stop the moan that escapes, humming into his mouth as you open up for him. Things turn hot and heavy very quickly and you find yourself backed into your kitchen counter as Jimin positively ravages you.

You pull back for a moment, panting and your stomach tightens as you catch a glimpse of him. Jimin looks just as wrecked as you feel, pupils blown wide in desire and chest heaving with the effort to breathe. His lips are a swollen, pretty pink mess and a desperate whine tears itself from your throat when you notice.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Jimin closes his eyes and catches his breath. “Do you want this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can slow down. I won’t be upset.”

“It certainly doesn’t feel like you want to slow down,” you tease, rolling your hips into his where you can feel the evidence of his desire against your stomach. His answering groan has you grinning wickedly.

“Sweetheart,” he moans, panting into the skin of your shoulder as you build up a steady rhythm and you can feel him stiffen further at the stimulation. “Please, answer me.”

“Yes, Jimin, please.” You punctuate the request with a final roll of your hips, pulling his head away from your shoulder so you can look him in the eyes. “Make me yours.”

A beat. Then, Jimin lets out the most animalistic growl you’ve ever heard and your thighs clench pathetically as you feel your wetness dampen your underwear further.

“You are going to be the death of me.” Pulling you to him, he crouches slightly until his fingers are brushing the backs of your thighs. “Jump,” he grunts.

You’re hesitant but you do so anyway and he catches you, taking a moment to steady you both before busying himself with placing kisses along your jaw.

“Where are we doing this, sweetheart?” Jimin murmurs against your skin and you have to take a second to focus yourself, a haze beginning to cloud your mind.

“Second door on the left,” you manage to choke out, whining as you feel his tongue leave a wet trail along your collarbone. You hardly remember the walk to your room but you certainly feel when Jimin deposits you gently on the bed. Backing up toward the headboard, you eye him greedily as he tucks his shirt to raise it over his head. You feel your mouth run dry and you lick your lips in anticipation.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?” He’s teasing you as he crawls on the bed, stalking.

“Not at all,” you return breezily. “Just wondering when you were gonna come over here and make me forget my name.”

“Oh, not to worry. You won’t be able to think of anything else but me.”

Lunging at you, Jimin connects your lips together once again and your hands wander over the exposed skin. You marvel at the toned muscles of his stomach, humming and running your nails lightly over them. He shudders over you, breaking the kiss to pant in your ear. You use his momentary distraction to flip you both over so you’re on top.

“My turn,” you whisper. In a surge of confidence, you grasp the ends of your shirt and practically rip it off you. Jimin stares, mouth agape, at the newly exposed skin. He seems to snap himself out of his trance because he dives in immediately, littering your chest with kisses and nips. Your hips buck against his as he moves to unclasp your bra, cupping the flesh once he’s removed the offending garment.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, awed. “I could look at you forever.”

Your ears burn hotly but you try to hide your embarrassment. “You just gonna look?”

Jimin fixes you with a look. “I plan to do a lot more than just look, sweetheart. But I am patient. Something you should learn.”

“I’ve missed you for weeks now,” you gasp as he pinches one stiff peak as punishment for your mouthing off. “So forgive me if I seem a little eager to get to it.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He presses a kiss over your heart and if you weren’t already a puddle on the floor you would’ve melted. Somehow the words seem to refer to more than just your impatience.

You choke on a moan when Jimin pulls a nipple into his mouth, fingers tweaking the neglected one. The stimulation has you arching into his mouth and you grind down onto his lap, reveling in the feel of him, hard and thick, under you. You shiver at the thought of him inside you.

Jimin switches then, his other hand sliding down your back to aid your hips in their movement against his. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, fabric slippery as you move. Finally satisfied, Jimin pulls back, admiring the wet, flushed mess he’s made of your chest, and ventures lower. Kissing down your sternum, he gently guides you down onto your pillows. You don’t even fight him, too excited to slow him down for even a second.

“Won’t be needing these, now will you?” He tugs at the waistband of your jeans and you scramble to undo them, lifting your hips as you help Jimin tug them down and off your legs. You’re left in your underwear as your only defense against his gaze and you shyly close your legs. Jimin clicks his tongue in disapproval and places a hand on both knees. “No hiding, sweetheart.”

He makes quick work of your underwear until he’s staring at your glistening folds with reverence. You mewl as he swipes a finger down your slit, collecting the growing wetness. Jimin circles your clit and you groan, back arching off the bed as you seek more friction.

“Jimin, please,” you gasp. “Want your fingers.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely…” Jimin grins deviously before slipping his fingers down to your fluttering hole. Sinking one finger in, he allows you to adjust before thrusting shallowly. He adds another finger after a minute and curls them upward, massaging the soft spot with purpose.

“Jimin, ah, please!”

“Patience, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ll give you what you want soon.”

You want to yell at him to get on with it but then he sinks a third finger in and the stretch burns so deliciously that you’re rendered speechless. The sound that reverberates around the room is obscene, filthy, but you can’t feel embarrassed as the fire in your stomach burns bright with each curl of Jimin’s fingers. He dips down to swallow your whines and cries in a searing kiss and you wrap your arms around him to crush him to you, eager to feel him.

“Now, Jimin, now. I’m ready.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Kissing your forehead, he pulls his fingers out of you gingerly before moving to remove his own pants and underwear. You watch as he revels each inch of perfect skin, mouth practically salivating as he removes the final layer and bares himself to you. He’s not ridiculously long but he’s thick and you can’t wait to feel him inside you.

You spread your legs in an open invitation but Jimin shakes his head with a smile before settling on the bed next to you. You’re confused until he pats his lap, beckoning you over. You move quicker than you ever thought you could and straddle him.

“Want to watch you. Use me as you need to. I’m yours.” He looks deeply into your eyes when he says this and you shiver at the conviction in his voice. You grab him by the base, making him hiss, and line him up with your entrance.

“And I’m yours,” you sigh, sinking down fully onto his swollen length. The stretch burns wonderfully and you can’t help the drawn-out whine that rips itself from your throat. Jimin doesn’t seem to be faring much better.

“Oh, sweetheart. You feel so good.” He tips his head back, eyes glazed and unfocused. You’re not faring much better but you’re determined to give him the ride of his life.

Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you push yourself up and you can’t stop the cheshire grin from curving your lips when he moans softly. His hands grip your waist tightly as you begin to build up a rhythm, guiding your hips as best he can.

“S-So good, Jimin. So big.” And you’re not just stroking his ego. The stretch has you groaning into his neck as you swivel your hips in a torturing motion. The hand on your hip tightens and keeps you moving steadily, no matter how much you wanna speed up.

“What did I say about patience, baby?” He clicks his tongue playfully and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Purposefully, you slow down your hips even more and clench tightly, dragging yourself up and down. Jimin chokes on air as you do so.

“What was that?” You flutter your eyelashes prettily at him and he growls.

“Don’t test me, sweetheart.”

A twinge of arousal flashes through you at the thinly veiled threat and you wonder just how dangerous Jimin can get. But, you suppose, you can save that for another time. Sufficiently placated, you resume your pace, taking care to kiss and bite at his neck, his jaw—whatever you can reach. His breath stutters as you continue your ministrations and you take pride in yourself for making him react so strongly.

Eventually your thighs start to feel tired and the fire in your core, while burning pleasantly, has dulled to a frustratingly low simmer. You whine into Jimin’s neck, begging him to let you go faster.

“Please, Jimin. I wanna cum.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he acquiesces. “I wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

His words spur you on and you begin a desperate pace, soreness long forgotten. The blunt tip of his dick nudges against the deepest part of you and you gasp as if you’ve been shocked. The pleasure begins mounting and your hips piston faster of their own accord. You feel his pelvis bump against your bundle of nerves with each drag of your hips, sending ripples of liquid heat traveling through your body.

You lean down to kiss Jimin but you can do little more than pant into his mouth, especially as he begins to buck up into you and meet your hips with every downward stroke. “H-ah, Jimin, close.”

“Atta girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.” The way he whispers into your hair, as if you’re something precious, something to be treasured, sends you into another frenzy and you let out an answering cry. “Come on, cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours.”

That in combination with a punctuated thrust has you hurtling so fast into your orgasm that you’re blindsided, mouth opening in a silent scream as the pleasure overtakes you. You hear Jimin grunt as your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth and you’re suddenly desperate to make him feel just as good.

“Y-You too, baby,” you manage to choke out. “Wanna feel you.”

Jimin groans, clutching you tighter to him. “Yeah? Sweetheart wants my cum?” You nod and that’s all he needs to buck up into you mercilessly. He lasts one stroke, then two, before he’s moaning out loud, pulling you in for a desperate kiss as he releases inside you. You swivel your hips for as long as you can stand it until the oversensitivity becomes too much and you have to stop.

You both stay there for a moment, breathing in each other as you come down from your highs. Looking shyly into his eyes, you find him looking at you with that same adoring stare and your heart throbs in response. You’re sure you look just as smitten.

“Hi,” you whisper.

Jimin smiles and you swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. “Hi.”

“We’re a little sticky.” You grimace as you shift slightly, feeling the combination of your fluids leaking from inside you and onto his skin. Not to mention the thin layer of sweat that’s left on your skin.

“That we are.” He laughs goodnaturedly, fingers trailing a soothing path down the length of your back and sending pleasant tingles down your spine. “Shall we clean up?”

“Yes, please.” You wrinkle your nose at him and he laughs, kissing it lightly as he shifts. Jimin removes you from his lap so tenderly you blush under the attention despite your previous activities.

Cleaning up turns into a full-blown shower, the two of you crammed into your small tub and taking turns under the spray as you lather each other’s bodies with soap. It’s comfortable, you realize—almost too comfortable—but you let yourself enjoy it, relishing in the feeling of wanting and being wanted in return.

Once you are clean and dressed in a thin nightgown and some sweats that you managed to find for Jimin, the two of you make quick work of changing the sheets and soon find yourself curled up around each other in a comfortable silence. You’re lying across his chest, hand clutched in his while his other arm is wrapped securely around your shoulders, holding you to him. Your thoughts wander to the Eurail trip—the trip that changed everything. You think about what would have happened if you hadn’t hadn’t been late and reached out for his hand that first day, if you hadn’t missed the train in that small-town station. You remember what Jimin had said about wanting, about finding his soul. Everything rushes back to you all at once and you can’t help the swell of emotion that rises within you.

“Jimin, I…” you begin, but you have no idea where to start. Everything feels so intense right now, so overwhelming, but Jimin seems to know exactly what you’re trying to say.

“I know.” He says it so calmly, like he’s had time to think about this, about you, and you realize he probably has. Just as you did. You smile softly, looking deeply into his eyes as you move to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry it took so long for my soul to recognize yours.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Jimin cradles your face, gazing at you fondly and you have trouble remembering how to breathe. “I found you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

#bts #jimin #bts jimin #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #bts jimin x reader #jimin x reader imagines #bts jimin x reader imagines #pjm #pjm fic #jimin fic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts smut

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agentkatie · 4 years

Note

Cullen/Shepard coffee shop AU?

This prompt is *squints at drafts* 84 years old, but after joking about it for so long I’ve finally written it! Enjoy!

The whole thing is below the cut, or alternatively you can read it all over on AO3.

5,394 words, in which Cullen repeatedly orders coffee despite Shepard’s flagrant misspelling of his name. Rated M for Shepard’s singular ability to lower the tone.

- - - - -

Cullen squinted at the blackboard behind the counter, struggling to make sense of the menu. When the Iron Bull had suggested grabbing coffee outside of the office Cullen had been hesitant, keen to continue his work at his desk, but for the sake of getting to know his new colleagues he had relented. He now regretted that decision. The artisan coffee shop across the street was too small and too loud, the haze of chatter making it difficult for him to think and the rich aromas invading his senses, and he longed to be back at his desk with a simple, pronounceable cup of tea.

“Great, she’s got her Antivan flatbread in again,” Bull said, inspecting the glass cabinet full of cakes and muffins with great interest. “Made your mind up yet?”

Cullen glanced at the indecipherable list of coffees once more before shrugging his shoulders. “I think I shall just have something back at the office.”

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Cullen said. “My choice in coffee is just generally less…”

Bull smirked at him. “Interesting?”

“Pretentious.”

“Hi!”

The sudden bright voice behind him made him jump, and his heart sank as he swivelled around to find one of the shop’s employees behind him: a small redhead in a coffee-stained apron and a name badge which simply read Shepard. Her eyes bore into him, one eyebrow arched as she regarded him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, and in any other circumstance he might have been impressed by her ability to intimidate with just a look; as it was, he only hoped she wasn’t about to put salt in his coffee.

“Shepard’s House of Pretentious Coffee,” she said, stepping behind the counter and fixing him with a smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How may I help?”

“Ah — forgive me,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt the telltale prickle of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “I did not intend—”

“Of course not; that would have been rude.” She turned to Bull, her smile softening into a more genuine one. “Hey, Bull. Who’s your friend?”

“Shep, this is Cullen,” Bull grinned back at her, clearly amused by the situation. “He’s our new city editor. Cullen, Shepard.”

“And what can I get you?”

Cullen took one final look at the menu above her head before resigning himself to being undoubtedly her most boring customer all day. “One black coffee, please. To go.”

“Sure. Any specifics?”

“How specific can you get with a black coffee?”

He meant it as a genuine question but it came out derisive and flippant, and she shot Bull a look of clear chastisement for daring to bring such a philistine into the shop. “One black coffee, then. Bull? The usual?”

Bull nodded. “And some of that flatbread.”

They moved to the side as a new stream of customers entered, most of whom he recognised from the office, and though Bull chatted idly to him Cullen found his attention instead drawn to Shepard. She set about brewing their coffee quickly and efficiently, humming a half-tune to herself as she worked, the broad smile and easy manner she offered each new customer far warmer than it had been towards him — and he fleetingly wished he hadn’t been so him, so that he might have seen that smile properly for himself. Still, she was pleasant enough when she handed their drinks over, and his coffee tasted good, the perfect mix of bitter and sharp; he almost considered ordering a cake to go with it, but restrained himself, figuring he’d annoyed the woman enough already.

It wasn’t until he was outside and walking back towards their offices that he glanced at the side of his cup, and saw the name she’d scrawled there.

“I think I upset her.”

“Who, Shep?“ Bull asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Cullen nodded. “Nah. She’s got thick skin.”

“She wrote ‘Colon’ on my cup.”

Bull snorted with amusement as Cullen held out his cup as proof. “Well, she also likes a bit of conflict.”

Cullen groaned as the prickle of embarrassment rushed back to him, this time for the impression he’d created with his new colleague. “Maker’s breath,” he said, taking a long gulp of his drink in the hope it would hide the colour his cheeks were turning.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bull told him, chuckling as he clapped him on the shoulder. “There’s plenty of coffee in the staff room.”

—

Cullen’s mornings started earlier than most. He left his flat each day before the trickle of commuters could give rise to the full stream, the tubes quiet save for the rattle of the rails, just he and a handful of bleary-eyed businesspeople committed to such a routine. He’d intended to head straight to the office as usual, giving him a few solid hours to work before the noise and bustle descended, but as he passed the little coffee shop on the final stretch he felt compelled to go inside.

Because Shepard’s was the name of the shop. He groaned as his eyes landed on the name, not having realised he’d insulted the owner the previous day and feeling even more foolish for it. It would only be a matter of time before he’d be cajoled into going again, either by Bull or someone else in the office, and so he figured he might as well get it out of the way — and, he hoped, if he apologised now maybe it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable later.

And besides, he could do with a cup of coffee.

Despite the early hour he wasn’t alone in the shop, though it was far calmer, the muted conversations of tired workers cut across by the clanging of spoons against mugs. Shepard however appeared fresh faced, seemingly deep in thought as she arranged the day’s pastries in the cabinet.

He hadn’t noticed on their first meeting just how pretty she was. Now, as he hesitated by the cash register and hoped she’d spot him there, it was hard to think of anything else — hard not to be taken in by her wide brown eyes, and the crimson hair carefully weaved into a braid, and the charming splash of freckles across her cheeks. He supposed he’d been too distracted by his own tactlessness before to pay such things any mind, but he wasn’t sure being distracted in this way was better.

At length she glanced in his direction, her look of surprise quickly shifting to a more neutral one. “Hi,” she said, giving him a wan smile as she moved behind the counter. “Black coffee again?”

“You remembered.”

Her smile widened a fraction. “It’s not a hard one.”

He cringed internally as she started on his order, because of course she remembered the man who’d insulted her business and his boring black coffee. “I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday,” he blurted out. “I was being…”

“Pompous?” she suggested. “Ignorant? A pain in the ass?”

He frowned at her, his remorse flickering. “Are you like this to all your customers?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised anyone comes back.” She smiled at him again, but it was a different one this time, a mischievous grin which invited him in as a co-conspirator, and he just couldn’t help but return it. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take it as a challenge. I’ll have you ordering little cinnamon sticks in your coffee before the year is out.”

He scoffed before he could catch the impulse. “I highly doubt that.”

“Are you like this to everyone in the service industry?”

He was about to apologise for a second time, cursing himself for his immediate return to boorishness — but then he caught the mirth in her eyes, and how she’d reflected his question back at him, and he hoped he could say something she’d appreciate more. “Yes. I’m surprised anywhere lets me in.”

She grinned again, with a soft laugh this time, her demeanour relaxing further as she returned her attention to his drink. “So — city editor, huh? Where did you work before?”

He was briefly surprised that she’d remembered such a trivial detail, but recovered himself quickly. “Uh— freelance, mainly. I’ve been looking for a permanent post for some time.”

“That’s a step up.”

“I know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fortunately Mr Trevelyan was willing to give me a chance.”

“Marcus is a good guy,” she said, an unmistakable fondness in her tone now. “You know, for a twelve year old who’s somehow running an entire newspaper.”

“I am sure he’s older than he looks,” Cullen chuckled. “How do you know him?”

“Your building is half my customer base,” she said with a shrug. “If your paper ever goes out of business then so will I. Pastry?”

“Uh— yes. Maybe.” He didn’t want a pastry, for he rarely ever ate breakfast, but he answered without thinking, struck by a ridiculous urge to keep talking to her. “I suppose that’s also how you know the Iron Bull?” he asked as he inspected the selection she’d laid out in the cabinet.

“No, actually. We go to the same gym. He’s my boxing partner.”

He looked up at her, eyeing her critically now, unsure how or why a woman a head shorter than him had teamed up with a Qunari who towered over them both. “That seems a little… mismatched.”

“You don’t think I can take him?” she said, arching an eyebrow at him as though daring him to contradict her. He held his hands up in surrender, not wanting to return to her bad books — or find out whether she could take him too.

“I just meant you are clearly in different weight categories.”

“You sound just like our instructor. He’s also a pain in the ass.”

He let out a snort of laughter, an unexpected and completely undignified sound he would have been embarrassed about if only she hadn’t smiled in return, and why he was amused by this woman’s oddly cheerful insults was beyond him. “Oi! Jar!” a voice interrupted them, and he pulled his attention away from Shepard to find an elf with a haphazard haircut roughly pushing a tray of mugs onto the counter. “Twice. Don’t think I didn’t hear you before.”

“Ass doesn’t count.”

“Does too. And does three.” Shepard cursed again as she pulled a handful of coins from her pocket, shoving them into a half-filled jar on the counter labelled tips/swears. “Four,” the elf told her, and with a groan she threw another coin in. “And when you’re done flirting, you said you’d help with the tables.”

“I forgot you ran the place,” Shepard grumbled, but the elf merely blew a raspberry at her before returning to her work. “Give me a shout when you’ve picked,” she told him. “The cannoli are great.”

She left him then, alone save for the strange fluttering in his chest which had erupted at the word flirting, and it became painfully obvious why he was browsing pastries and laughing so obnoxiously. He had a crush on her. How utterly predictable.

And she’d written Colon on his cup again.

—

He returned several times a week after that, either by himself in the mornings or with a colleague who’d pestered him into lunch, though in truth he didn’t need much persuading — for the coffee was good, and Shepard’s warm smile each time she greeted him was better. It was a frivolous, pointless crush, yet one he was content to indulge in, taking pleasure from their small snippets of conversation each day without expecting anything more. She continued to get his name wrong, and he wasn’t sure whether she actually thought his name was Colon or if she was just trying to wind him up; he’d almost corrected her, once, before her fingers had brushed his as she’d handed him his drink, and his ability to form sentences had fallen straight from his mind.

The elf, Sera, he suspected knew of his infatuation, for each time he entered the shop she rolled her eyes and muttered something he couldn’t quite catch to Shepard, and it might have scared him off if Shepard didn’t seem to brush off whatever she’d said with ease. The rest of her staff were nicer to him, though variable in their ability to manage the place; the queues were twice as long when an elf from Antiva was serving, and it was rowdier when the man everyone addressed as ‘Hawke’ was around, and the Krogan she’d employed for the grand total of a week had turned the area behind the counter into a war zone. Yet he found himself growing to like the chaos of the place, sometimes even staying to drink his coffee inside — and the fact that Shepard would chat longer with him when he did so was only part of the reason for that.

A month had gone by at his new job before he knew it, and Bull insisted on going out for lunch to mark the occasion; Cullen agreed with very little protest, knowing by now that lunch only ever referred to one place. Shepard’s was busier than usual, and it took several minutes for them to reach the front of the queue, though Shepard herself looked unfazed by the bustle, greeting them both with the same, beautiful smile she always wore.

“Back already?” she said to Cullen, who’d already picked up a coffee that morning. “It must be my lucky day.” She often spoke to him like this, with casual comments somewhere between mockery and flirtation, and she meant nothing by them but his stomach still did a ridiculous flip in response every time. “You boys staying in?”

“Yeah,” Bull said. “Usual for me, Shep. And—”

“The flatbread; I know. How about you? Same again?”

Cullen hesitated, torn between his stubbornness and the curiosity he’d been surprised to discover in himself, before resigning himself to the choice he’d been considering for a week. Even though he knew he’d get teased for it. “Actually, I was— I thought I might like to try something else.”

Shepard’s face lit up as she broke into the broadest grin he’d ever seen her wear, leaning on the counter and propping her chin on her hands. “I knew I’d get you,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “Go on then. What’ll it be?”

“I— uh—” he floundered, having planned up to this part but never being able to settle on a choice in his mind. “What would you recommend?”

“I don’t think you and me have the same taste, Mr One Black Coffee,” she told him, which was a better name than Colon but which still made heat prickle at the back of his neck. “But if it were me, I’d go for a caramel macchiato.”

“Ah. That may be a little…” he trailed off before he said the word ‘sickly’, but the roll of her eyes told him she knew where his sentence had been going.

“I’ll make you a vanilla latte, then. That’s pretty much you in drink form.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why do I feel like you’re insulting me through the medium of coffee?”

She gasped, putting her hand over her chest in mock hurt. “How could you think I would do such a thing? To my valued customers?” He was on the verge of pointing out her persistent misspelling of his name, but then she winked at him and he all but forgot what his name was; instead he descended into awkward silence as she made their drinks, all the while growing increasingly annoyed at Bull’s easy banter with her.

The pair made their way over to a free table by the window, and it was only when they were seated that Cullen registered Bull’s smug expression. “What?”

“You’re into her.”

“Wha— no,” Cullen said. “Why would you think— I barely know her, and she doesn’t— I wouldn’t even—”

“Sure,” Bull cut off his increasingly inarticulate protests with a knowing smile. “Nice sprinkles.” He said it as though agreeing to chocolate sprinkles was an egregious declaration of love, and Cullen glared at his coffee, mentally making a note never to accept Bull’s offer of lunch again. “She’s single, by the way. And fun. You should ask her out.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you harass all of your colleagues like this?” Bull merely scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he began to eat his flatbread, and Cullen knew for his own sake he should drop the subject but there was still one thing on his mind. “She keeps spelling my name… poorly,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing as he said it. “Could tell her that I’m not actually named after the large intestine?”

“Nah,” he grinned at him. “You’ll have to tell her that yourself.”

“Maker’s breath.”

He took a sip of his coffee, surprised first by its sweetness and second by the fact he didn’t hate it, and his gaze involuntarily drifted back to Shepard; she’d started serving someone else but caught his eyes even so, her expression curious as she mouthed good? at him.

Good, he mouthed back, which was perhaps overstating it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.

Good, she repeated, her smile lighting up her features once more, and his heart fluttered in his chest in response.

Maker, but it was a beautiful smile.

He shook his head to clear it from the absurd hopes which itched at the corners of his mind, taking another sip of his drink and determinedly avoiding Bull’s gaze. Perhaps it was time for him to start making coffee at home.

—

Cullen’s resolve to visit Shepard’s less lasted until 7 a.m. the following morning. During the final stretch of his commute he found his feet leading him into her shop of their own volition, and he would have been annoyed with himself if only he hadn’t been greeted with that smile.

“Morning!” Shepard called out as he entered. “So, have I converted you? Another latte?”

He’d made it halfway through his latte before it became too sweet for him, but he finished it regardless, not wanting to leave a half-finished mug behind. Still, he didn’t like her quite enough to keep ordering it. “Ah— no,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for the time being.”

“Really? Are you really going to break my heart like that?” He simultaneously wished she’d say more and less things like that, equally flustered and captivated by her casual flirtation, and it was that exact reason why he ought to spend less time around her. “Go on then, enlighten me: what didn’t you like about it?”

“I— will you be offended?”

“Depends if it’s the coffee or how I made it.”

“Well, I— the vanilla was a bit strong. And there was too much milk; I could barely taste the coffee.”

“So you actually like black coffee?” she asked. “Rather than you have no fu—uh, no clue what the others are?”

He chuckled at her last-minute recovery, eyeing the tip-slash-swear jar which grew fuller with each passing day. He couldn’t be certain what or who contributed the most to it, but from Hawke and Sera’s constant screeches of ‘jar!’ across the shop floor he had a fairly good idea. “It may be a bit of both,” he admitted.

She considered him for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought with her lips pursed and brow slightly furrowed, and he feared she was about to denounce him as a lost cause. “Alright,” she said just as the silence began to grow uncomfortable. “I know what we’ll do. I’ll give you your black coffee, but I get to experiment with different beans.”

“I like the ones you’ve been using.”

“Oh really?” she arched an eyebrow at him. “Which ones are they?”

“I…” he trailed off immediately, because of course he had no idea about the beans — and she knew it too, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement as he struggled not to seem a total fool. “The ones on the left?” he guessed, glancing at the large jars behind her.

“Nice try,” she told him. “I’ll figure out your roast first, then I’ll move onto the blends. But you’ll have to pay attention to what they actually taste like.”

“This sounds a lot like homework. I don’t think I signed up for this.”

“Well, too bad — I’m bored, and you’re cute when you make your little frowny face into your drink.” He somehow managed to choke on the air he was breathing, letting out an inelegant splutter as she broke into an impish grin, and he was now certain she was saying these things to solely to fluster him; he did his best to glare at her, yet that only seemed to spur him on. “That’s the one. Absolutely adorable.”

“Maker’s breath,” he grumbled, sure his whole face was bright red by this point. “I am going to stop coming here.”

“No you aren’t.”

He was going to protest, but he noticed for the first time a hint of blush creeping up her neck, and the way she idly fiddled with a loose strand of her hair — and, for a brief moment, he wondered if maybe her flirtation wasn’t malevolent after all. “No,” he agreed. “I’m not.”

She held his gaze for a fraction too long before breaking it, turning from him as she began to prepare his order, and for one flash of insanity he considered taking Bull’s advice after all. An offer of food outside her place of work was hardly a great commitment, and if the worst came to it he’d just have to avoid her, or perhaps relocate—

“So, how’s work coming along?”

She spoke before him, addressing him over her shoulder in her usual easy tone as she continued to work, and he winced internally as his chance firmly passed him by. But perhaps that was for the best. “Uh— good. Thank you.”

“I read your article the other day. About the new housing policies in Lowtown.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised — and more than a little pleased — that she’d gone to the effort. “What did you think?”

“I think you could’ve thrown in a few jokes.”

“It is a notoriously humorous subject.”

She chuckled, a soft sound that shot a renewed burst of affection through his chest, and how was it possible that he could be so enthralled by simply a laugh? “I actually found it interesting,” she told him. “And it was nice to hear about something good happening. Even if it sounds like it’ll take ages.” She turned back to him as she snapped the lid on his cup, scrawling his name — incorrectly, as always — on the side before he could make any sort of correction. “You’ve got a light roast today. It might not be… coffee-y enough for you, but you have to start somewhere.”

He smirked, unable to resist teasing her just this once. “Is that the technical term?”

“It’s the term I use for the dumbasses who can’t decipher the menu.”

His smirk widened. “Jar.”

She swore again, far more colourfully this time, thrusting a handful of coins into the pot before handing over his drink. He handed over his money in turn, but he hesitated on the spot before leaving, struck once more by that ridiculous urge to keep talking to her. “Thank you,” he said. “I — uh — I shall let know what I think the next time I come in.”

It sounded weak even to his ears, but to his surprise she didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t leave me waiting too long,” she told him, fixing him with a devastating smile.

He had to leave then, because if he stayed she was going to see him turn bright red again, and as he stepped into the sun and glanced at her scrawl on his cup he realised two things. First, that if she’d read his article, then she knew very well how to spell Cullen. And second, that he was completely and hopelessly enamoured with her.

—

The light roast was, as Shepard had predicted, not to Cullen’s taste, but he found the medium far more appealing; emboldened by her success she began experimenting with different blends, and Cullen looked forward to discovering what she had to offer each day. And he looked forward to seeing her, too. She laughed with him over the concoctions he’d hated, and teased him whenever he gave a particularly inept description of a blend, and she smiled at him, as always, with a sincere see you soon when he left.

He wasn’t foolish enough to presume that she treated him alone like this, or that it was anything other than a way for her to pass the time — and he knew, deep down, that how he felt would only cause him heartache in the end. Because it wasn’t just her smile, or laugh, or her beautiful, endless eyes; it was her, her very energy drawing him in with each word and action, and now he’d seen her he couldn’t bear to look away. And so he continued, with vague reassurances to himself that it remained simply a crush, despite knowing that to long be untrue.

He tried his best to avoid lunch with Bull, for he was invariably insufferable each time they set foot in Shepard’s, but there were some days he couldn’t escape it. On this particular one he’d roped Mr Trevelyan into his persuasion; not wanting to disappoint him, he dutifully followed them across the street and into the shop, hoping that Bull wouldn’t mock him too much in front of their boss.

Mercifully, Bull’s attention was distracted by the distinct lack of flatbreads on display, giving Cullen room to discuss his current projects with Trevelyan as he tried not to look at Shepard too often. Which, of course, he failed in. She’d styled her hair differently for once, her crimson hair free from its usual braid and instead piled into a messy bun, and whenever she turned the loose strands at her neck shone copper in the sunlight, drawing his attention back to her each time.

He really should have turned down lunch.

“Hey, Shep,” Bull greeted her as they reached the counter. “Where’s—”

“Don’t start with me,” she warned him, which was not her usual way of greeting her customers, but Cullen sensed she’d had this discussion with Bull more than once before. “I told you I’m not getting it anymore.”

“But—”

“Bull, no-one else buys that bread. You’ll just have to have a panini like everybody else.”

Bull made a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat, frowning at her selection of sandwiches as he muttered something vaguely insulting about customer service. “I got in something new for you,” she turned her attention to Cullen. “It’s a bit nuttier than the blends you’ve been having; I think you’ll like it.”

He was sure she hadn’t bought in anything specifically for him, but it made warmth bloom in his chest all the same, and he didn’t even try to prevent the undoubtedly dopey smile which broke across his face. “I would like that.”

“I see how it is,” Bull grumbled. “You get him fancy beans and my flatbread pays the price.”

“Yeah, well — he’s prettier than you are.” He didn’t even have time to react before she turned next to Trevelyan, which in a way was good, because he had no idea how to respond without stuttering like a fool. “Marcus?”

“Well, I like everything,” Trevelyan told her, offering her an amiable smile which she returned instantly.

“And that’s why you’re my favourite,” she replied, and Cullen tried his very best not to be irrationally jealous. “The usual, and…?”

“And…” he paused to consider the options in front of him. “The tuna melt, please.”

They waited patiently for their orders, Shepard chatting easily with them as they did, and when she handed Cullen his drink he rushed to hide the name she’d written on it from Trevelyan. Bull, however, seemed intent on ruining everyone’s day now his had been, and grinned malevolently at Cullen.

“Why are you holding your cup like that?”

Cullen glared at him as he took — what he intended to be — a nonchalant a sip of his drink. “I am not holding my cup like anything.”

“Yeah you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What are you— oh,” Trevelyan laughed, craning his neck to see the side of the cup Cullen was desperately trying to hide from him. “Shepard, you’ve—”

If he hadn’t been his boss, Cullen might have kicked him to shut him up, but it was Bull who put a hand on his shoulder to silence him. “Hold it. Cullen’ll tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

“Nothing,” was Cullen’s knee-jerk reply, but he regretted it instantly, knowing that he’d gone far too long without correcting her — and that if he didn’t do it now then his boss would likely never respect him. “It’s just— it’s Cullen. My name.”

“I know,” Shepard told him. “That’s what I’ve been writing. Colon.”

“Cullen.”

“Colon.”

“Cullen.”

“Callum?”

Bull, whose shoulders had been shaking with silent laughter beside him, finally spoke at that, his voice full of barely-concealed glee. “Give it up, Shep. You lost.”

“You cheated,” she glared at him. “I’m not paying up.”

“I won’t make you pay if you get me my flatbread back.”

“Oh I’ll bring it back, but you’ll be fucking barred when I do.”

“Jar!” Hawke called out, pushing said jar towards her without even looking up from the drink he was making, and with two further curses Shepard threw a handful of coins in it.

“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked, realisation dawning on him as he took in Shepard’s decidedly shifty expression. “Did you bet that I wouldn’t—” he began, but his answer was clear in the way she looked everywhere except at him, and he felt as vindicated as he did embarrassed. “I knew you were doing this deliberately!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she held her hands up in surrender. “I run a terribly unprofessional establishment, although you probably should have realised that by now. Your coffee’s on me by way of apology.”

“Make it dinner, and I might consider forgiving you.”

He had absolutely no idea where that came from, the words leaving his mouth before he’d even started to think them, and he winced as the laughter in her eyes fell away. “I— forgive me,” he said, hurrying to backpedal before she banned him from her shop along with Bull. “That is— I shouldn’t— uh…”

But there was no outrage in her expression, only delight, and that faint blush he’d seen but a handful of times, and as his words faltered under her stare she filled the silence as always. “I close up at seven,” she told him. “I like that sushi place with the big fish tank.”

He blinked, once, as her words sank in, and he coughed to clear his suddenly-dry throat before replying. “I shall see you here at seven, then,” he told her in as level a voice as he could manage.

“See you then,” she grinned. “Cullen.”

He nodded to her and his colleagues before turning on his heel, keen to leave before she came to her senses, his heart beating a frantic tune as he strode back towards his office. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it, but somehow what he’d hoped for hadn’t been as impossible as he’d believed — and he might have thought he’d imagined it all, if it wasn’t for the cup of coffee grasped tightly in his hand.

He had a date with Shepard. And now he just had to figure out which sushi place she’d been talking about.

—

“So,” Bull said as the three of them watched Cullen march out of the shop. “I guess he’s not having lunch with us.”

“I guess not,” Marcus agreed. “That escalated… bizarrely.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said, unable to contain her grin at the sight of him hurrying away — and she hated that Bull had won their bet, but at least she didn’t have to hold back now. She couldn’t very well have called him Colon on a date. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fuck him.”

[Fic Masterpost]

#cullen x shepard #cullen x oc #coffee shop au #dragon age #mass effect #crossover #my writing #mollie shepard #this fic is essentially #cullen: the pretty lady sure is nice for helping me with the coffee #shepard ordering new beans at 2am: i better get laid out of this #Anonymous #oh wow so formatting on tumblr is an absolute nightmare huh

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