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zodiakuroo · 3 years

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Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours. Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle. Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”. All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

#dabi is just the worst huh #sorry about the angst i honestly don’t know how that happened #dark content #dark fic #mha smut #tw dubcon #bnha imagines #bnha smut #dabi imagine #dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha x reader #tw slapping #tw noncon #tw unhealthy relationship #tw gunplay #tw death mention

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

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in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant.

a/n: hi loves! i’m back with a new story, and this is for nat’s @harrystylescherry playlist fic challenge! the song i chose is ‘say it’ by maggie rogers, which is one of my absolute favorite songs! hope you all like it, please reblog and leave feedback!

WORD COUNT: 13.8k words of waiter!harry x waitress!yn

WARNINGS: angst and some smut

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SAY IT’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share <3

It was eleven in the morning when Harry walked through the back door of ‘Spring,’ ready to start his long day of being on his feet while waiting tables.

He walked to the staff’s lounge that held their lockers and a bench before looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room; he turned the dial of his lock pad to open his blue locker. His coworkers would always tease him about being so secretive when he knows that no one would actually steal from him, but better to be safe than sorry, and he couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be confronting one of his coworkers if they actually had stolen from him.

He put his white canvas tote bag that was printed in a brown text that said ‘Celestial Natural Foods’—a store in Hawaii—in his locker and hanging it on one out of the two hooks before grabbing his black waist apron and tying it around his waist.

The restaurant’s attire was a simple white or black button down with black trousers. The manager of the restaurant, Irene, told the staff that they could choose either color shirt whenever they pleased. As for jewelry, she didn’t mind when her waiters and waitresses wore jewelry, as long as it wasn’t interfering with how they held the plates of food, causing them to drop it. Harry was glad to hear that Irene allowed jewelry because his rings and necklaces made him Harry. Twisting his rings and fixing his necklaces, he took a quick glance at the small mirror that was stuck on the inside of the door with a magnet, and combed his hair back with his hands before closing his locker shut and locking it.

He washed his hands at the sink next to the locker room, and he smiled at the commotion and noise from behind him that came from the kitchen crew. They were prepping for the dinner hour, chopping up various vegetables, making the restaurant’s famous dressing and sauces, and baking the side dishes that usually took a while in the oven.

“Hey, Harry!” Jet, one of the sous chefs, greeted as he looked up at Harry with a big smile as he continued chopping up cabbage like the professional chef that he was.

Harry chuckled, amazed at his knife skills. “Hey, Jet. How are you today?” He leaned against the stainless steel countertop as he talked to Jet through the open space of the shelves, where the food rested under the heated and dim light when it was ready to be served.

“I’m doing great! How was your three day vacation?”

“It was okay. It went by fast, but I missed it here anyways,” Harry responded with a smile. Jet laughed, nodding.

“Well, we missed you too. Anyways, Irene told me to tell you that she’s looking for you.” Harry squinted his eyes slightly, not knowing whether Irene looking for him was a good or bad thing, and Jet seemed to notice what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing bad.”

Harry nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Jet was his closest friend at Spring, ever since Harry started working as a waiter three years ago. He desperately needed a job because being his own boss and freelancing as a photographer could be difficult sometimes; and building up a client list when he first started out was even harder. But three years later, he was able to get his name around through his clients, and he earned enough where he could technically quit his job at Spring and focused purely on photography; however, Harry liked the restaurant too much to just quit—he liked serving people, believe it or not. His charms go a long way for respectful and kind customers, and of course, a great tip. Most of his friends always worked here as well, as he didn’t have quite a lot of friends since he moved from London, but his coworkers had become his very own friends, and he loved them too much to leave.

“Thanks, I’ll see you when we open!” Harry said as Jet waved to him, watching him walk around the counter to find Irene who was talking to a woman he’s never seen before.

He’s always loved walking through the restaurant because it had such a friendly and open vibe with white painted walls, trees planted in a line in the middle of the floor, and a big glass ceiling for a solarium ambience. His favorite part was that there were no walls to separate the dining area from the kitchen, so customers could see straight through the kitchen and watch the chefs work on their food with just a turn of their heads.

“Ah, there he is,” Irene said once Harry was close enough. “I’m glad you’re early.”

“Irene, I’m always early, what do you mean?” Harry breathed out a chuckle.

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re extra early today because I need you to train this lovely woman next to me.” Irene stepped out of the way to reveal you to the waiter that was going to train you today.

Harry looked at you, and immediately, his breath was caught in his throat. The light that was provided through the glass ceiling cast down at you, giving you a glow that was ethereal, and he mentally thanked the interior designer of the restaurant from so many years ago for insisting on putting a glass ceiling instead of a regular, covered one. There you were, standing in the open light as you flashed him a smile that almost made him collapse due to how weak his knees were, and he physically had to place a hand on the brown wooden table next to him to keep himself up. You were stunning, to say the least.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered him a hand, smiling softly at him. He shook your hand, feeling the softness of your small hand and how it contrasted to his large and somewhat rough hand.

“I’m Harry. It’s lovely to meet you.” He smiled, two dimples indenting his cheeks. You noticed that his left dimple was more prominent than his right, but either way, you thought he was a gorgeous man.

Yours and Harry’s eyes had lingered a bit longer, and once you had caught yourself staring, you forced yourself to take your eyes off him, even though it was difficult to. And that’s when you knew it was going to be a slight problem working around him.

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Irene interrupted. She turned towards Harry. “Harry, this is our newest addition to our waiting staff. You’ve been here long enough and it seems like you’re here everyday, so I’m going to leave her with you to train.” Once she was down, Irene turned towards you. “Y/N, you’re going to train with Harry for the rest of the week. It’s usually two weeks that are required for training, but since you’ve had waiting experience before, I’ll knock it down to one, and by the end of the week, we’ll see how you’re doing and where you are with everything. Sounds good?”

You nodded excitedly, giving her a bright smile before she clapped her hands and said ‘great.’ Harry looked at you the entire time, and he just knew that you were the type of person that could light up a room with your beautiful and bright smile.

Irene turned towards Harry once more. “Show her the ropes, introduce her to people, and just make her comfortable, yeah?” Harry nodded, teasingly saluting at his boss as he earned a laugh from her.

Irene left, leaving the two of you, but your attention was preoccupied with the restaurant as you eagerly looked around, getting familiar with the place you’d hoped to be stable at for a while.

Harry cleared his throat, to which you immediately looked at him. He gave you a smile before he said, “So, ready for your first day?”

“Ready!” You exclaimed, tone a bit too excited, making you slightly embarrassed, so you curled your lips into your mouth and looked around the restaurant again to hide your slight embarrassment.

Harry giggled. “Don’t look around too much—you might get tired of this place before you even start,” he teased, completely forgetting how shy and embarrassed you looked.

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” you confessed immediately, feeling a certain comfort once you walked into the restaurant. Hell, the moment you researched the restaurant, you loved the place.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Harry led you around the counter where customers could watch the chefs in action as they cooked their meals. “This is where you could get all the supplies needed—napkins, extra plates, utensils, place mats, everything should be here. If not, then it’ll usually be in the kitchen, right over here.” He walked over to the kitchen where there were more supplies under the table, and pointed below the table. “Here’s more if the ones behind the counter run out, and if they do run out and you just so happen to be there, please make sure to refill it.” You nodded understandingly.

Harry walked you through the steps of how the system of the restaurants worked as he imputed a demo order into the system on the touchable screen. There were five order screens, one in each corner of the restaurant, one behind the counter, and one in the kitchen; there shouldn’t be any collision or anyone waiting for one of the severs to finish with the screen because there were only about four to five servers working every shift considering it was a small restaurant. Harry then walked you along on where to pick up the order as every dish had its receipt with the order printed on the paper along with the table number. He told you that the table numbers are in order of how the tables are set up—number one starts with the countertops since it’s closest to the entrance, following along the walls, and the tables in the middle were numbered last.

You liked how easy their routine and system was that you were sure you’d have it down by the end of the week. Harry made sure to introduce you to the staff that you two passed by as he led you throughout the restaurant; he made you feel comfortable right from the bat, making sure to make a few jokes here and there that certainly released some tension in your shoulders from nerves. You were grateful that he made you laugh--you were worried that you wouldn’t like your coworkers or they would be mean and snarky because you’re the newbie, but with Harry, it seemed like you two were getting along quite well; he was polite, helpful, and kind.

“So, that’s pretty much it.” He looked at the time on his Apple Watch, reading a quarter to six in the evening, 15 minutes until Spring opened for dinner. “Do you have any questions?”

You tried thinking of anything that you could ask, but your mind seemed to have collected all the information Harry had told you and retained it quite well. “No, nothing I can think of at the moment.”

“Great. For now, do you mind checking the placemats and the table decor for me?” You nodded helpfully. “And then if you have any remaining time left, just chill out and take a breather for a second, and then come find me when we open.”

“Okay. Sounds good.” You smiled at him sweetly, making him smile back before he walked away and towards the kitchen.

You headed towards the dining room, making sure the woven placements were symmetrical and even; you also straightened out the utensils that made their way out of line or off the tablemats. You did this for the rest of the ten minutes you had of peace before you made your way through the restaurant to find Harry.

The entire time you were in the dining room, Harry was in the locker room, mindlessly on his phone to waste time. He was lucky that he didn’t have to do anything before the restaurant opened, so he had some spare time to relax for a bit. He tried cooling down to get the pink flush that painted his cheeks off, but that’s what happened when he was around you; immediately, you had already had this effect on him, making him blush and nervous around you, and he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way you brightly smiled at him, practically gleaming; or the way you laughed at his jokes, which even he could admit are a bit corny and bad—a very dad-like joke, but you still laughed.

Whatever it was, he knew that he was fucked.

Dinner time was a rush. Spring was busy and full; the reservation booklet was booked with no space to cater to walk-ins.

You were shadowing Harry as you followed him around like a lost puppy, watching him interact with the customers, occasionally pulling out his charm so he would get a big tip. You couldn’t imagine if you were a customer and Harry was your server because your face would heat up instantly, and it would be difficult to contain a smile on your face. He had such a natural charm to him, making him naturally flirty as he flashed customers his smile and laughing at their horribly made jokes.

For half of the night, you simply followed him around, watched the paths he took when he got the customers’ food and his overall routine of things. With every table he got assigned to, he made sure to introduce you to the party, always glancing over at you once he said your name as you greeted the customers with a bright smile. Harry nearly had to stop every time he glanced over at you as it seemed like your beauty always distracted him.

You helped him with dealing with the plates, beverages, and getting extra necessities such as cheese, hot sauce, or extra utensils and plates for the table.

Once the restaurant died down a bit, you and Harry were able to walk a bit slower, relaxing each time a party leaves. When there was about an hour and a half left of your shift and till the restaurant closes, Harry asked you if you’d like to take orders, saying it’ll be best if he observed how you would talk and serve the customers, and you excitedly said ‘yes.’ Harry was only assigned to five to six tables during his shift, and since it was near closing time, there were only two that had just arrived.

Harry politely introduced himself, telling the parties that you were new and shadowing him, but you were going to take over for the rest of their stay at Spring. He watched you kindly talk to them, occasionally making small talk as you laughed with them; you talked about your favorite items on the menu, along with your favorite selection of wine. This time, Harry helped you with your tasks that you had done before you two switched off, and he immediately admitted to himself that the two of you made such a great team. It was only your first day here, and he already saw how naturally the both of you moved around one another, along with communicating so well with each other.

You were bidding the last party in the restaurant goodbye with a wave and telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening before you grabbed the mason jar that held the bill, along with the tips. You walked over to the kitchen where Irene was counting all the money and placed the mason jar besides her, giving her a smile before walking over to the locker room.

Harry was sitting on the bench with his phone in his hands, and looked up once you entered the room.

“How was your first day?” He smiled.

“It was actually really great. The energy here is amazing.”

“Well, I’m glad. You’re a natural, and it helps both of us that you already have restaurant experience.” Harry completely put his phone away into his tote bag, giving you his attention, which you really admired. Some people would make small talk and quickly end the conversation to go back on their phones. “Where did you work before, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I actually moved here from NorCal—San Francisco—just two weeks ago. But I worked at one of the restaurants at Pier 49. The restaurant was pretty small and we weren’t as busy as it was here, only on the weekends we would get a bit busy. So, this is definitely completely different than being outside and smelling the fresh ocean a few feet away,” you explained, chuckling.

“Wow, SF, that’s quite the trip. But we’re glad to have you. I think you’re fitting right in.”

“Thank you. I already like it here.” Harry gave you a warm smile, grateful that you had a great first day, and that Spring gave you a good first impression for you to stay.

The two of you chatted a bit, talking about the customers you had and laughing at the jokes they made or the conversations they talked about. It was kind-hearted and fun, and a conversation that made you feel light; it wasn’t anything serious. It ended when it was time for closing, cleaning up and making sure everything was in order for tomorrow afternoon’s shift.

Irene handed the staff their tips for the night, which you amounted for $120 for a Sunday night. It wasn’t bad for your first night of tips, and you knew you would be working a lot more since this was your only job and you weren’t doing anything else.

As everyone walked outside into the staff parking lot, everyone said their goodbyes to one another, spreading apart and walking out to their vehicles.

Once you opened your car door, Harry called out for you from the opposite side of where you parked.

“Yeah?” You raised your brows.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a smile before getting into his car and starting it, but he waited until you were safely inside of your car and out of the parking garage, and then he would leave.

He couldn’t help but notice the smile that appeared onto your face before you got inside your car, and he couldn’t help but think about how incredibly beautiful you are.

The entire week went on just like your first day. You were getting more comfortable with the flow of the restaurant, and where everything was. You continued shadowing Harry, but some days, he would let you serve your customers for the entire shift.

Now that it was Friday evening, you couldn’t wait to relax the next day. You had told Irene that you were available all days of the week, and since you were new and still needed to complete training, she scheduled you for Sunday to Friday, getting Saturday off, which you appreciated. When you told yourself that you were able to work all day, you didn’t realize how exhausting and tiring that was until it came down to the end of the week as your feet ached, telling you to sit down for at least an entire day.

Once it was closing time, you were finally able to catch a breath as you cleaned up part of the dining room. Chatter and laughter was heard from the kitchen quite loud as it echoed against the walls; you smiled, enjoying the sound of laughter, especially when it came from people you knew.

As you were mindlessly wiping down tables, Harry walked up to you with two cocktails in his hands, smiling as he handed you one. You raised your brows, hesitant to take it from him as you wondered if it was allowed to drink since you were technically still on the clock.

“Irene made them for us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said as if he read your mind. You breathed out a chuckle, taking a glass before thanking him and clinking your glass with his before taking a sip of the cold tequila drink. You sighed in relief, and Harry giggled. “Do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s almost midnight, but I mean…you could still.” He felt his ears heat up, feeling a tad bit nervous when he was around you.

“No, I don’t. I don’t really have any friends in SoCal, but I can't wait to go home and sleep.”

“O-Oh okay, I was just gonna ask if you’d like to stay for a bit longer.”

“Here? For what?” You asked curiously.

“Well, the lot of us get together after night shifts to do a mini celebration at the end of the long and busy week. We only do it Fridays since that’s when most of us are working all together,” he said referring to the bunch laughing and talking in the kitchen. You did notice now that you had been working with the same group of people, and partially that was because you only mostly worked night shifts and so did the rest. “We usually stay for an hour—drink, eat, talk. It made us closer, actually, so I’d thought you might like to join since you’re new,” he invited.

You didn’t take long to think of an answer—to weigh out your choices of wanting to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable time or stay an extra hour and hang out with your coworkers.

“I’d actually really love that, thank you,” you accepted his invitation with a sweet smile, making Harry’s heart pound just a tad bit harder against his chest.

“Great! Well, come on into the kitchen when you’re done. The chefs are cooking up some food,” he said before he walked away, leaving you to finish up your tasks for the night, which didn’t take you any more than ten minutes to finish up.

You walked into the kitchen and Harry immediately handed you a plate that you gladly took. Jet excitedly waved to you to go over to the stove so he could serve you.

“Allergic to anything?” He asked to make sure you weren’t going into the emergency room tonight.

“Uh, shellfish when it’s consumed. I’m okay to be around it, though.”

“Oh shit, this would not be good for you.” His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the large silver serving spoon of the lobster risotto; it looked absolutely delicious. “Good thing I’m prepared. Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Love.”

“Great!” He started plating your plate with the food before handing it back to you with an ‘enjoy!’ as you thanked him.

Once everyone was satisfied, you all headed out to the dining table, settling on a large rectangle table comfortably. There were about twelve of you, and it seemed like everyone had assigned seats since they immediately went straight to their spot and placed their table or drink in front of it.

You were a bit lost, not knowing where to sit, and the only person you’re reasonably close to was Harry, but it seemed like he was a bit preoccupied chatting with Quinn, another chef.

“Y/N! Sit next to me, yeah?” Ivy, one of the waitresses called out for you. You smiled, thankful she was the one to ask you, and you gladly took a seat next to her.

Harry took the seat in front of Ivy, diagonal from you, and he really wished he was the one sitting next to you.

“Damn, I really should get a large circle table for all of us so we could see each other’s faces,” Irene suggested, and the group agreed, but everyone wondered where it would be placed since the restaurant had no space for another large table.

Everyone broke out into their own conversations, chatting with one another freely and as loud as they wanted.

“How was your first week here, Y/N?” Ivy asked.

“It was great! I really love this place.” Harry looked at you as you talked with Ivy. He really could get lost just looking at your beauty, and sometimes, he would have to knock himself out of his glare to prevent him from getting caught. He was just so captivated by you, and it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to be so drawn to you.

Ivy had definitely noticed Harry’s stare from the corner of her eye, and admittingly, she got jealous because she’s had a small crush on Harry ever since she started working at Spring four months ago. But it wasn’t like she was going to do anything about it because it seemed like he didn’t take interest in her, so she wasn’t going to force it. However, it didn’t slip past her that you occasionally glanced over at Harry as well—briefly averting your eyes towards him once he took a sip of his water or someone had pulled him out of his attention on you to make conversation.

Gently pulling you by the arm, Ivy leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Harry’s totally crushing on you.”

You pulled back, shocked. “What?” You mouthed.

“He can’t stop looking at you—it’s so obvious.” You simply chuckled, shaking your head slightly as your cheeks felt warm, not from the alcohol or how close everyone was sitting, but because you couldn’t even believe that Harry would have a crush on you. Sure, you two had spent the entirety of your shifts together, but you didn’t think that he would have a crush on you.

You tried not to think of Ivy’s words for the rest of the night, and you tried even harder to not look at Harry to catch it he was staring at you. Your thoughts seemed to make you more drunk when you were trying to sober up to drive back home. You only had three cocktails, which was quite mindless of you to be drinking when you had to drive home, but you simply wanted to have fun because you deserved it, and you were comfortable and making friends. And everyone seemed to be drinking as well as they were getting a ride from the more responsible ones who were driving and leaving their car in the parking garage during the night.

Once everyone was all out of their social battery with their plates and glasses empty, you all started to clean up, helping one another to make the process of going home quicke; there were two people washing the dishes and two people drying as the rest put those dishes away and cleaned the table.

Just like every single night, everyone said their goodbyes in the parking lot before going to their cars to head home for a good night's rest.

You were sober, but you didn’t feel safe enough to drive, and you don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the thoughts of Harry making you dizzy. So, instead of walking to your car, you took out your phone and opened the Uber app, knowing you’d be able to get a ride home quickly since it was past midnight on a Friday night.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Harry asked, walking up to you once he noticed that you weren’t going to your car. He made it a habit to watch you get inside your car and leave the parking garage safely because anything could happen in the few minutes if he left before you.

“I’m calling an Uber. I don’t wanna drive back…” you replied before looking down at your phone again.

“Oh, I could drive you home, if you’d like?” He offered politely.

“Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. I would feel better knowing that I was the one that got you home safely.” The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up into a smile as your heart fluttered against your ribcage.

“That’s really sweet, Harry, I’d like that,” you accepted. Harry grinned, leading you to his car as you followed; he walked over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, which easily almost made your knees buckle in. How is he such a gentleman and so incredibly kind? You wondered, thinking about how rare it was to meet a man without anything leading to more than a conversation.

You thanked him before getting into his car; his car was very clean and he had a Saturn air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, admitting a fresh lemon scent throughout his vehicle. Harry got in, handing you his phone to play some music and to enter your address before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage. You played Daniel Caesar, which you thought was the perfect kind of music for a night drive since your place was fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. The two of you sang along to ‘Hold Me Down’ as he watched you from the corner of his eye, adorably swaying in your seat to the song as you muttered the lyrics.

The sunroof cover was open, giving you an orange glow every time the car passed by a lamppost. Unconsciously, you both looked at one another every time the car stopped at a red light, both smiling at one another. You were thankful that it was dark out as it hid your big smile from how much you were giddy just looking at Harry.

Once the navigation told him that your place was on the right, he parked against the curb in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards him in your seat as he turned towards you as well.

“Thank you for the ride, Harry. It was really kind of you to offer.”

“Not a problem. Don’t be hesitant to ask again. I rarely drink when we have our after-hours dinners, so you’re free to drink all you want and I’ll be glad to take you home,” he told you, and you smiled, nodding your head.

“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s just been a while since I drank and hung out with friends,” you explained.

“No worries. I’m glad you had fun, I assumed?”

“Yeah, lots of fun! I really like it there, and you made it bearable and fun as well as my trainer,” you admitted. Harry felt his cheeks slightly redden, and just as you were thinking, he was grateful it was dark out.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad. You’ll be on your own now. No need for me anymore since you’ve pretty much gotten everything done so quickly,” he chuckled, a dimple indenting his left cheek, making you hold in your breath.

“Can I still ask you for help if I need you?” You asked innocently, leaning your elbow against the middle console as you rested your chin against your fist. Harry pursed in his lips as his mind focused on the last three words that slipped out of your mouth--I need you. It was merely an innocent question relating to work that he shouldn’t think too much about, but he couldn’t help it.

“Of course. I’m always gonna be here if you need me,” he responded, keeping it friendly. At that, you smiled, nodding your head in acceptance. You gathered your belongings that rested at your feet before turning to face him again. Leaning forward, Harry thought you were leaning in to kiss him, which he wouldn’t mind whatsoever, but that dream was crushed when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, placing his hand against your back and slightly rubbing his hand up and down, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest at the feel of your upper body slightly pressed against him.

You pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Drive safe, okay?”

“Always do. Sleep well.” He bid you goodbye as you got out of his car, walking over to the entrance of your apartment complex. You turned around before you opened the door, waving at him before heading inside.

Harry drove off to his place, the opposite direction of your apartment, passing Spring. He could’ve honestly been home already in the comfort of his bed, but he didn’t mind taking you home at all. That only meant he got to spend a bit of more time together, but he noticed that with every passing second, minute, and hour, he felt himself falling for you just a bit more.

You’ve been at Spring for almost a month, and you couldn’t believe how fast the days went by. The more you worked, the more you started to feel a place at home with the restaurant. It was welcoming and fun, and all the credit was due to the people that you surrounded yourself with. You felt a difference in your attitude, your mood, and you liked the change that it brought you--you felt happy.

Being in San Francisco your entire life was great up until it wasn’t. It was a toxic place for you simply because of the people that you were surrounded with. You noticed that you were always on fight-or-flight mode, ready for someone to make one comment at you so you could snap at them. You hated being and thinking like that, so the best thing you did for yourself was to move away from the toxicity of your hometown, and you were glad that you did.

It was another usual Friday evening, after hours at Spring as you sat in your usual seat next to Ivy as the two of you and Harry were laughing about a story Ivy was telling about her ex-boyfriend in college.

Harry looked over at you, heart swooning as he watched you laugh, wiping your under eyes from the tears that had slipped out. It was a beautiful sight, he’d say; you had such a beautiful smile and contagious laugh that he loved hearing, whether it’d be from the kitchen as he was in the dining room or in the locker room—wherever it was, he always smiled to himself when he heard it.

The two of you had gotten quite close, making the work environment bearable and fun. When you would be in the same area at the same time, you had this thing where you would bump his hip with yours lightly, and he would bump yours right back—of course, when there weren’t any food or drink handling. There would always be light conversations within those hip bumps, comfortably getting to know one another, whether it would be asking quick-fire questions or a random story about one another’s lives that would come to mind. It wasn’t an ordinary setting or time to get to know each other, but it made things fun because the two of you would come up with more questions to come up with the next time he bumped into you. It was nice having a thing with you, he thought.

There would be moments during those little meetings when your fingers would brush delicately against his, sending shivers to his body. It was simply overwhelming in the best way possible.

Everyone called it a night, doing the nightly routine of tidying and cleaning everything up. Despite the long shift and being on your feet, you still had quite a bit of energy that you would like to use up so you could get a night’s rest. You looked at your friends, seeing if anyone was up for a late night adventure just based off of their posture and how often they yawned, and it seemed like everyone was exhausted, for obvious reasons. But you’d ask one person before you decide to go alone.

Once everything was clean and ready for the Saturday’s brunch, everyone walked out of the restaurant, walking over to their cars.

“Hey, Harry?” You called out, making him instantly turn around at the sound of your voice.

“Yeah, love?” The pet name had merely slipped out, and you felt your face getting warm, shyly smiling.

“Uh, you could totally say no and I would completely understand why because it’s Friday night, and we had a long shift, and you must be tired-”

“Y/N?” You stopped talking, raising your brows. “Breath, yeah? Take your time,” he interrupted the rambling that you hadn’t known you were doing.

Nodding, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but every time you were around Harry, he just made you feel a certain swarm of butterflies entering your stomach.

“I’m not as tired as I thought, and I wanna end tonight with some sweets. So, would you like to come with me to get some dessert? Again, you could say no.”

Harry smiled. “I’d love to,” he replied with no second thought.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Plus, we could finally talk properly. Hate always walking away from our unfinished conversations.” He breathed out a chuckle, running his clad ring hand through his curls.

“Great! Oh, uh, do you mind if we take your car? I took an Uber here, but I’ll compensate with buying you cookies and paying for your gas,” you suggested, keeping your excitement at bay.

“No worries, c’mon. But I might take you up on the cookie offer.” He smiled, opening your door for you, which never failed to make you swoon.

As he started the car, warming up the engine and turning the heater on, you two debated on where to go. You suggested going to Insomnia Cookies in Santa Monica, which was a twenty minute drive from Downtown LA, and it closed at two In the morning, but only if he was down to drive the opposite direction of where you two lived. And luckily, he didn’t mind the drive because he was always down for a late night drive and adventure, especially if it was with you.

The car speakers played Frank Ocean, he merged on the 101, tapping his fingers along with the beat against the steering wheel. You subtly studied him as he drove, just as you did when you would glance at him across the restaurant. He always mindlessly curled his pink lips into his mouth, a habit that he, assumingly, had for years. You noticed how he would always play with his rings; his thumb would reach over to his other fingers to play with the heavy, metal rings; not helping that your mind would instantly go to what else his hands could do, especially to you, to your body, but you had to immediately snap yourself out of your thoughts to prevent them from going any further. Not to mention, the way his eyes always lit up; they had a natural gleam to them, making them incredibly irresistible to not look in his green eyes.

He was captivating in all the right ways, and you felt yourself falling for him quite quickly, making that fear inside of you light up, inflaming your body with anxiousness.

Your thoughts soon vanished when Harry pulled into a parking space in front of your destination, and he turned off the car. He turned to look at you, giving you a small smile before getting out. You decided to buy Harry anything he’d like, which he got the same six pack of cookies as you.

Harry suggested eating in his car, which you agreed. Although the cold in SoCal wasn’t the same coldness as it was in NorCal, you didn’t want to stand around and freeze. The two of you make light conversation, talking about social media and enjoying the warmth of the fresh baked cookies. You then realized that you hadn’t followed him on Instagram, so you asked for his username, which was just his first and last name.

“Your pictures are amazing,” you complimented.

“Stalking me already?” He teased. A smirk on his face present, making you roll your eyes as you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss the smirk off—always wanting to go for the latter. “But thank you. I, uh, I actually took those myself.” Your eyes brightened. The photographs posted on his Instagram were mostly portraits of beautiful people, some of them were landscapes of a field or the mountains, but most of them were portraits. You knew very little about photography, thanks to the ‘Beginning of Photography 1’ class that you took in college, but you could see the depth of the picture and the way they’re taken; the emotion was clearly there, making you feel intensity through the picture.

“Wow, you’re really talented, Harry.”

He blushed, looking down at his lap for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Thank you so much. I’m a freelance photographer.”

“Do you plan on leaving Spring to focus solely on photography?” You asked curiously. He softly smiled; he could hear the genuine tone in your voice, and he really appreciated that.

“I’m not sure. I’ll have an appointment, maybe, three or four times a month? But the restaurant brings in more money, especially the tips,” he explained.

You nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re extremely talented, and one day, you’ll be at the place you want to be. Everything will work out.” Harry smiled in appreciation of your words, not saying anything else.

Taking another bite of his cookie, he changed the subject. “So, do you miss any of your friends in SF?”

You raised your brows, not expecting that question, but you answered honestly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t. A month before moving here,” you began to open up vulnerably; you hadn’t spoken to anyone about this. “I got out of a long relationship—quite toxic, honestly,” you said, looking at him. He had this look on his face that was so comforting, not a word coming out of his mouth, asking for details; it didn’t tell you that he was nosy or pressing you to tell him more. It simply told you that he was there to listen, whenever you were ready to tell him, and you really appreciated that.

You hadn’t realized how hard it was talking about your past relationship because it had been all bottled up until now. A deep breath came out of your mouth, and Harry immediately realized that it must’ve been a hard subject to speak about. Unexpected to you, he reached over to grab your hand, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. He hoped he masked his nervousness well, making the smallest physical touch with you when, really, his pulse was hammering against his veins, heart pounding through his chest as his breathing began to feel erratic, but outside he remained cool, calm, and collected as if the touch didn’t drive him insane.

You tried not letting Harry’s thumb, caressing the back of your hand, affect your ability to speak a coherent sentence, so you continued. “Uh, my ex was cheating on me with someone in our friend group. He told me not to worry about her, but you know how that goes when you hear that phrase. It was with a girl that I used to date—my first relationship, actually. The worst part of it was when I found out, I took him back when he promised he wouldn’t do it again and claimed that he loved me, and then I took him back again, and again and again.”

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to not let the hand holding yours squeeze tightly so the blood circulation cuts off because he felt angry. He was so mad because how could anyone do that to you? Sweet, kind, and lovely you?

“When I told him I couldn’t handle it anymore—all the lies, cheating, and betrayal—I broke up with him. Our friend group turned against me, completely ignored me. Now that I think about it, I noticed they started to be cold and rude towards me once they started sneaking around, and I have no clue why because I didn’t do anything to them. Guess they were just covering up for them because everyone knew except me, and I just felt so stupid because I was so clueless to think he ever loved me to forgive him so many times.”

You started to sniffle as the bad memories that you lived through for the few months of the betrayal started to come up again. You were doing a good job not thinking about it when you started working at the restaurant, and you didn’t plan on telling Harry tonight, but you trusted him to let go of all the agony that you bottled up inside your mind.

“Hey, come here,” he said, opening his arms up. You gladly rested your head against his shoulders, wishing the middle console wasn’t there so you could press your body against his. He hands rubbed your back just as it did when you first hugged him, and to say that you hadn’t been craving for his touch was a complete lie. “You’re not stupid whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make you stupid. It makes them stupid for betraying your trust and forgiveness over and over again. You’re not in the wrong here nor was it your fault, love.”

You nodded against his shoulder, and you felt him place the side of his face against the top of your head, cuddling up to you, which immediately put a smile on your face. Harry’s comfort had immediately made you feel better—it made you feel safe. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms in a very long time, and considering that you’ve only known him for a month, you’d say it’s quite unbelievable how comfortable you are in his hold, especially opening up to him like you did.

Pulling back from his hold, you looked up at him, giving him a smile. The weight on your shoulders suddenly felt lighter once you opened the bottle and poured out the contents in it. Talking to Harry was refreshing, a fresh breath of air, and you inhaled the crisp oxygen gratefully, knowing that being vulnerable and opening up had changed your friendship.

It was Sunday evening, and you were cleaning up to prepare for closing. It had been a long day, even though you only worked for four hours; it just seemed that you were running around more than usual.

But you were glad that the day was over, and you could take a long nice shower to end your night. Throughout cleaning, your coworkers had said goodbye, leaving through the back door, which you found odd because everyone usually heads out at the same time, but you didn’t think too much of it.

Once you were done in the dining room, you looked around, finding the restaurant completely empty, but everything seemed to be in order, so you headed over to the locker room.

When you rounded around the counter top and into the kitchen, Harry jumped up from his crouched position, startling you as you took a step back, gasping with your hand over your heart.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you said breathlessly.

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I thought you still knew I was here.”

“I thought I was completely alone, and hiding behind the counter doesn’t help.” You and Harry laughed. You hadn’t noticed the two plates of food and wine glasses that were filled with sparkling soda sitting next to him on the stainless steel counter, and you wondered for a moment if that was for you and him. “What’s that for?”

“For us, if you’d like. I made it quickly once everything was slow and we were starting to close,” he said shyly, rubbing his tattooed forearm.

Your brows raised, eyes widening slightly. “You made this? For us?”

“Yeah. Today marks one month being here, so I decided to make dinner to celebrate.” You were quite speechless at the thought; it was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful that Harry went through that trouble of making a meal to celebrate a somewhat significant date. Tears started to well up in your eyes, making the man in front of you blurry. “Oh, wait, no. Please don’t cry. You could definitely take this to-go, if you want! I know you’re probably tired, but-”

Harry was cut off by your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He was taken back at first from the impact of your body crashing against his, but once he regained his balance, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly.

Your scent was impeccable—quite alluring for running around for a few hours. He knew he smelled like food, the smoke from garlic and onions sautéing, and vegetables cooking. He buried his head into your shoulder, holding you close. This had been the first time you two were ever hugging outside of the comfort and safety of his car—no middle console to interfere, no awkwardness in trying to figure out how to give a proper hug in a confined space. He enjoyed it a lot—the way your body was pressed up against his. It made him happy, it made him feel safe.

The intimate moment lasted for a few minutes, simply just hugging one another in relief in the kitchen, swaying slightly as complete silence surrounded the two of you.

Once you were satisfied (although you think you would never be satisfied enough if you’re not in his arms), you pulled away, coming face-to-face with him. Your cheeks were slightly damped from the few tears that had fallen out, but weirdly, it gave you a natural and happy glow, and you were feeling exactly that.

“Harry, thank you so much. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You looked up at him through your wet lashes, warmly smiling at him.

“You’re welcome. Shall we eat?” You nodded, and he unwrapped his arms from around your waist, letting you go, which he wished he hadn’t. He grabbed the two heavy plates that were filled with honey garlic chicken with sautéed spinach and mushroom on a bed of rice, and you grabbed the glasses, reaching over to place them onto the countertop before the two of you walked around to sit on the high stools.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and you thanked and complimented him for the lovely meal. There was light conversation, asking questions about each other’s childhood. Listening to Harry talk about his life in England was so fascinating to you, and you wished that you had grown up with him because he seemed like such a fun and kind kid to play with. You learned that his sister and mom were back home in London, and they visited every six months, and he would occasionally go back home as well, if the bills weren’t stacking up and he was good with money. His words and mind seemed to get the best of him, slipping out about how much they would love you and that he’ll invite you to lunch whenever they visit to meet them; and he hoped he didn’t freak you out. You simply blushed, nodding your head, and not saying anything else.

The more you talked to him, the more you found yourself staring at him as you listened to what he had to say. You’d come to terms a few weeks ago that you really liked his eyes—how green they were, and how they stare into you, giving you his full attention. You liked his hands, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, and most of all, you liked his lips. You couldn’t blame alcohol for these thoughts because Harry replaced wine with sparkling soda, so these were completely sober thoughts racing your mind. His lips were something you glanced at often, trying not to glare at them too much as he talked as you didn’t want to get caught for admiring them. They were so pink, and he occasionally bit them and curled them into his mouth, making them pinker. You liked when he would take his fingers and pinch his bottom lip, a habit that he seemed to form throughout his life. You suddenly wanted to kiss him—really, really bad.

You shook off the thought immediately, being completely sidetracked with your infatuation with Harry. Was it an infatuation? No, you knew the feelings you felt for him felt much stronger than a simple admiration for your coworker.

Once the talking had died down and the plates were empty, you and Harry decided to clean up. You quickly took both of your plates, beating Harry to the sink to wash the dishes. He chuckled as he watched you fast walk towards the sink; he soon followed with the glasses, placing them carefully into the sink. He decided to dry the dishes, finding the dish rag on your right side. So, he leaned over, placing his left hand on your waist, chest slightly pressed against your back as he grabbed the rag. You turned your head to the right, dropping your shoulder to turn more of your body towards him. He was close and it made you feel flushed; you felt your cheeks heating up once he looked down at you, faces inches away from each other.

You turned back around, quickly placing the last dish on the counter before you turned off the water. Harry was still close in proximity, not making any effort to move away from you. Turning around, your back was now pressed up against the edge of the sink. Harry rested his hands against the edge, trapping you with his arms. Your breath began to deepen, heart beating quite harshly against your chest as Harry looked into your eyes, briefly glancing at your lips, and slowly trailing them back up into your eyes. He brought one hand to graze the side of your face gently, skin prickling with goosebumps.

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented honestly.

“Thank you, you are too.”

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Listen, I-I really like you, and we haven’t known each other for long but I just…can’t get enough of you,” You smiled, averting your eyes to his lips before looking back up; your cheeks and neck felt incredibly warm from his confession. Bodily, you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him towards you to close the gap between you two; Harry smirked at your action, liking the way your bodies were pressed up against each other.

“Are you gonna do anything about it?” You raised your brows curiously.

“What would you like me to do?” His hands were rubbing up and down your back soothingly.

“Hmm…a few things actually,” you muttered—more to yourself but Harry definitely heard from how close you two physically were. Your fingertips were mindlessly drawing circles on his lower back where his slightly wrinkled white shirt was tucked into his black jeans.

“Care to share?”

You took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes that captivated you quite clearly. “Want you to kiss me.”

The corner of his lip turned up as he curled his lips into his mouth. “Can I please? Been wanting to for so long.”

“Tell me.” Harry raised his brows. “Tell me how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.”

He curled his lips into his mouth, looking down at your soft lips before back up at your eyes. “Ever since I saw you for the first time. So, please let me kiss you. Do you want me to?”

Harry quite literally took your breath away, breath stuck in your throat before you cleared it. Nodding your head quite eagerly, you softly said, “Yeah, want you to.”

With that, he trailed his hands from your waist, up your spine, to your shoulders, and up to your face where he placed his hands on both sides, gently holding your face delicately as if it were a piece of art that was crafted for months, years; he didn’t want to drop or break the precious masterpiece that he cradled with his hands.

His thumb caressed your soft cheek, giving your lips one last look before he leaned in and connected your lips with his. You sighed deeply once you felt his soft lips touch yours, and your shoulder visibly relaxed, letting go of everyone that may have held you back.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. A spark ran through your body as your lips molded together so perfectly in sync, making the firework inside of you pop into a beautiful and magical scene.

Whimpering against his mouth, you suddenly wanted more of him; he was, in all ways, addicting. You unconsciously lifted your right leg, bringing it up to his hip, making Harry press himself against your core, holding your thigh. He started to feel himself harden inside of his pants from the way you’re kissing him, the way your hands gripped his hair, and the way your tongue effortlessly swiveled against his.

You pulled away from his lips quite breathlessly, lips swollen. “Want you.”

“Me too—want you so bad.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, and once he did, you pulled away, only leaving him with a small kiss to his lips. Harry pouted, making you chuckle.

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” you confessed.

Harry smirked. “Well, I’ll be glad to do it again.”

“Wanna get out of here? C-Can we go to yours?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “You sure?”

“Absolutely positive.”

Harry gave you a smile and another kiss before he backed away, grabbing your hand to lead you to the locker room where the two of you grabbed your belongings from your lockers. Quickly after, you two were out the door of Spring; Harry locked up, and walked you two over to his car where he, yet again, opened the passenger door for you.

The entire ten minute drive to his apartment, his hand never left yours. It delicately sat on your thigh with your hand on top of his, palm against the back of his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. Harry found it difficult to drive properly because all he ever wanted to do was either kiss you or look at you, and since it was just a bit after midnight, he hit all the green lights, so there was continuous driving and less kissing and looking. But that just made it quicker for him to get to his place.

His apartment was on the second floor, which didn’t take long to get to, but catching up to Harry’s long strides as he practically dragged you up the stairs—no patience to wait for the elevator—was tiring you out.

Once his front door closed, he immediately pushed you up against it, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly. You practically could feel him smiling into the kiss, happy to have his lips on yours, and it completely tied your stomach into knots as the familiar flutter you felt in your chest made itself present.

You’d come to realize, in the kitchen, that kissing Harry was everything you ever imagined. His soft lips molding and connecting with yours so perfectly made all of your dreams and realities come true. He just had a way with how he worked his lips as well as where to put his hands. But you were eager to find out what else he could do.

Harry was the one to pull away first, which he even surprised himself with, but he led you to his bedroom, which you were too excited about. He closed his bedroom door, taking your lips in with his again, backing you up against his bed as he gently placed you on top of it, hovering over you.

His lips trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and down to your neck where he lightly nibbled and sucked on your soft skin. You felt him lick your skin, soothing out the small love bite that he left on your skin before he pulled his head from your neck.

“You sure you want to do this? I’d be happy just kissing you.”

You smiled. “I’m sure, wanna touch you. You’re sure too?” You asked consent from him as well, making his cock twitch in his pants.

“Very sure, love. You have no idea.” He sat on his knees as you laid below him, and he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so beautiful as you do; he was completely enthralled by your beauty. “Can I take this off?” He referred to your shirt, playing with the buttons on the front. You nodded, biting your lip.

He leaned his weight on one side of you, placing one arm behind your head as you rested against it. He took your mouth in with his as his other hand began unbuttoning your white shirt, impressively with one hand. Once he got to the bottom, he sat up again, as did you to take off your shirt and your sports bra. You didn’t wear anything sexy to work because you wanted to be comfortable while waiting tables.

Harry looked at your bare torso, licking his lips before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking the pebbled bud before switching to the other. His lips then placed small kisses down your body and to the hem of your pants, where he looked up to see you flushed from just his kisses.

“Harry…” you whined.

“What is it, beautiful?” He smirked.

“Please, take it off.”

“I’m getting there, love, don’t worry.” A breathy chuckle came out of his mouth before he unbuttoned your trousers. Your hips raised off the bed, and he swiftly took them off, leaving you in your nude seamless underwear. “Fuck, you’re so stunning, Y/N, I swear.” You looked at him and smiled; you were clearly at loss for words because of how Harry was looking at you. He wasn’t looking at you with complete admiration, like he was so lost in his daze of his sight. And that thought made you even more aroused.

He gave you another kiss to your stomach before taking off your underwear, situating himself in between your legs, lying on his stomach. Harry looked up once more to find you staring at him, eager to watch what he’s about to do; he placed a kiss to your inner thighs, gently nibbling on your flesh, making you squirm.

“Harry, please. Need to feel you,” you pleaded, brows crinkling.

“Tell me what you need,” he teased, earning an impatient scoff from you, but Harry chuckled at your frustration.

“Need your mouth on me. Please, want you to eat me out already.”

Now, who was he to deny that request? So, that’s what he did—he slowly licked your clit multiple times before licking into your hole, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He used your wetness to lubricate your clit, completely assaulting your sensitive bud. Your back arched as the sensations ran through your body, hands gripping the sheets below you tightly that they practically wrinkled. Harry moaned against your clit, making you buck your hips into his face.

“Fuck, Harry…” you dragged out, throwing your head back into the pillows.

For a few minutes, Harry continued devouring your taste, not stopping until you came all over his mouth and you were completely shocked by his will to not stop until you’ve had your orgasm from his tongue.

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, slowly entering your wet hole as he fingered you. You moaned louder; the tips of his fingers curling up to meet the softness of your upper walls. His unoccupied thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, something that he noticed you really liked based on your hips thrusting upwards and your hand gripping his hair harder that it felt like you were going to rip out his locks.

“So pretty, love. So wet for me.” The simplicity of his words had made you feel the familiar bubble in your lower stomach, and you wanted to release it so bad.

“Harry, I’m gonna…cum,” you groaned out, biting your lips.

He continued his pace on your clit, but added a tad bit more pressure, causing you to jolt a little. His fingers that were inside of you repeatedly brushed your g-spot, making you close your legs, but Harry pried them open, encouraging you to release.

“C’mon, baby. Want you—need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you give me what I want?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, mouth ajar as your voice was hitched in your throat. A few more thrust and rubs from his fingers, and you hit your high, releasing around his long fingers as he slowed his movements, riding out your orgasm while praising you for your peak.

“That’s it. There you go.” One of his hands rubbed your stomach, calming you down while the other hand gently played and cupped your pussy as you unconsciously and slightly thrusted your hips into his hand.

Once you had relaxed, you opened your eyes; Harry was kissing up your body before he kissed your lips so sweetly.

“Hmm, you’re so good at that.” He smiled, kissing your neck as he started to rut his hips on your thigh. You felt his hard on through his pants, and you knew that wasn’t comfortable whatsoever.

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He pulled his head from your neck, facing you as he was about to say it was completely fine if you didn’t, but you spoke up first. “That can’t be comfortable, and I wanna touch you—if you’d let me.” You were looking at him with innocent eyes, even though he knew what you were about to do was going against anything innocent. Plus, the way you were looking at him only made him more aroused.

“Course, let me just get out of these.” He got off the bed, but stayed closed; he was about to unbutton his shirt, but you stopped him quickly, replacing his hands with yours. Harry dropped his arms to his side once your lips were attached to his neck, giving him a small hickey on the underside of his jaw. The feel of just your lips on his skin made him bite his lips as a chill ran through him. You sat on your knees and started unbuttoning his white shirt, and with every button you undid, you gave him a kiss to every bit of his skin that was left exposed until you reached the hem of his pants.

You looked up at him on all fours, and he watched you press another kiss to his tattooed torso. “Mind if I take these off?” You toyed with the hem of his pants.

“No, please, don’t mind at all.” You smiled, looking back at his bulge, which outlined through the fabric of his pants. You palmed him, making him hiss through his teeth. He hadn’t felt another person’s touch in so long, so your lips and touch felt overwhelming in the best way.

You unbuttoned his pants, which he was fast to get out of, leaving him in his black briefs. You positioned yourself to lay flat on your stomach, thankful that Harry’s bed was the perfect height to where you don’t have to strain your neck to suck on him. Kissing down his happy trail, you left a prominent love bite in between his tattooed leaves that were so perfectly inked on his lower abdomen. You then kissed his hard length through his briefs, making Harry breathe heavily. He’s never felt so teased in his life, but you were making it all worth it because nobody had ever made him feel so aroused.

Finally, your fingers gripped the hem of his briefs and tugged them down so his cock could departure from the strained material. He was big, and you knew that from when he was driving to his place earlier as his cock was pushing against his pants, making you excited and eager. But seeing it right in front of you made you salivate.

“Holy shit, you’re so big.” All he did was smirk at your words, knowing that fact quite clearly. You grabbed a hold of him as you held his dick upwards before you licked the underside from base to tip. Harry breathed in through his nose once he felt the smallest bit of contact from your mouth.

Your mouth began to work on his tip, sucking and licking up the precum that had spilled out of his tip before you started to take more and more of him in your mouth. It was Harry’s turn to fill the room with his raspy and deep moan, and the noise he was making was triggering your arousal. Harry had a full view of your mouth on him as well as a great view of your entire backside, not missing the way he noticed how you started to subtly move your hips into the sheets.

As you sucked on him, taking him further into your mouth, Harry dragged his fingers from your shoulders, down your spine, and to your ass that was out in the open with no shame whatsoever. His hands kneaded your flesh before slapping on cheek, which made you moan around him.

“Like that?” He went back to his standing position, leaning back a tad bit to get a good look at you. “Tell me, do you like that?” You looked up at him, making direct eye contact with him as your cheeks hollowed and you sucked hard around him before letting out a ‘mhm.’ Your mouth was working wonders on him while your hand was fondling and playing with his balls, making him throw his head back and accidentally bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, sorry, baby.” He moved your hair to check up on you, but all you did was place your hands on his ass and pulled him towards you until your nose touched his pubic bone. Harry let out a throaty moan, and your hands pushed and pulled his lower body until he understood what you were doing.

So, he took control, holding your head steady before he slowly started to thrust into your mouth; the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. There was a string of spit that was dangling from your mouth and connecting to his balls—a sight so filthy but helped him get right on the edge.

“I’m gonna cum. Love your mouth so much. So beautiful for me, so perfect.” Harry’s hips began to jerk sloppily, indicating that he was close. With just a few more thrusts into your perfect mouth, he spilled down your throat as he stopped thrusting, keeping you halfway on him. A series of curses and your name came from his lips as he shut his eyes. You took every drop that he offered, trying to swallow every bit of content as best as you could, but some of it had spilled out of your mouth due to how much he overfilled your mouth with his cum.

Harry seemed to be in the middle of calming down from his intense orgasm, so you took the time to clean up. Pulling back, you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers as well as cleaning his cock with your mouth. What you didn’t notice was that Harry was watching you the entire time; he lowered his head, neck straining from looking up too much, and saw you eagerly cleaning and licking every last drop that had fallen from your pretty lips. The sight was enough to make him hard again if he wasn’t too spent.

He collapsed on his bed next to you, his head was next to your ass, to which he pressed a small kiss to your hip in gratitude. You moved to lay your head on his stomach, looking at him and giving him a small smile.

“Come here. What are you looking at me like that for?” He reached out for you, and you moved again, resting your elbow next to his head before giving him a kiss. The kiss didn’t deepen any further, just molding your lips with one another as he tasted himself on your tongue.

“Nothing. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself.”

“Very much did, thank you. Did you? You could be honest with me.”

You giggled. “Honestly…I had a really great time. You made me feel really good. The best I’ve felt in a really long time,” you told him honestly, and Harry smiled at that.

“Do you want to stay the night? I’m always in a cuddly mood after anything sexual—well, I’m always in a cuddly mood, period.” You laughed, nodding your head before kissing his cheek.

“I’d love to. Can I use your restroom, and do you have a spare toothbrush?”

Harry nodded, getting off the bed before leading you to his bathroom where he gave you a toothbrush and some of his face wash. He left you to do your business and told you that he would have a change of clothes.

Once you were done, you walked out of his bathroom, still naked, and was met with Harry in a pair of gray briefs and a change of his clothes in his hands, handing them to you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead before going off to the bathroom and leaving you to change.

You replayed the evening in your mind over and over again as you changed—you really enjoyed his company and him as a person. Harry was a more than nice guy, who seemed to like you for whatever reason, and you liked him too. Maybe a bit too much, and you felt like you liked him more than you projected—dare, you say that you were falling in love. But you couldn’t let yourself feel that way; you were beating yourself up for it. In all honesty, you were scared, so you had a habit of not portraying the entirety of your feelings out on the table so people could perceive it.

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts in your head, repeating and spitting out every insecurity that your previous ‘friends’ had told you in the past—calling you a slut and how you couldn’t keep anyone around because they both ended up cheating on you. Your head was telling you Harry would do the same, and as hard as you were trying to deny that because Harry was the kindest person you’ve ever met, it was all you could hear. You couldn’t do this, no, you couldn’t feel like this, you thought. You felt like you needed to protect yourself before you were in too deep.

Without even knowing, you were frantically grabbing your clothes and shoes that were all thrown across Harry’s floor. Your heart was racing, mind telling you to ‘leave’ and that ‘nobody is going to love you,’ so that’s what you were doing, leaving.

You made it out of his bedroom, so close to the front door until you realized you had forgotten your purse. Turning around to go back, you were met with Harry leaning against the frame of the hallway entry, holding your purse in his hands.

“Not planning on saying goodbye?” His voice sounded defeated, the complete opposite as to what it was prior. He looked down at his feet, not even able to make eye contact with you when he was always keen on making direct eye contact when talking to someone, but seeing you walk out his bedroom door when you were supposed to be waiting for him in his bed to cuddle was heartbreaking.

“Harry…”

“That’s all it was to you, I’m guessing? You know you could’ve said no to staying the night, I would’ve understood. But to say yes after we’ve been intimate, and getting my hopes up? I-I thought you liked me, that’s all, and I’m stupid for falling for it,” he ended with a scoff. He felt extremely vulnerable; he laid his feelings out on the table, let you see his body, and it seemed like you just picked and chose your cards straight from the deck to only have Harry fold.

“No, that’s not it-”

“Then please tell me what it is before I drive myself into the wall thinking what I’ve done wrong!” He raised his voice—not too loud where it startled you, but enough to where he simply let out his frustrations.

“I like you, Harry, I do. But we can’t be together.” You didn’t know how to put it into words, so that was the best you could come up with.

“And why’s that?” He furrowed his brows, walking towards you, but keeping a safe distance. “Give me a good reason why, and I’ll let you go—I’ll leave you alone. We’ll simply be coworkers who don’t talk to each other. I’ll-”

“I’m scared, okay! I’m scared because I cannot fall in love with you, even though I’m already in too deep. I’ve done it once and i-it hurt me.” You were on the verge of bawling, maintaining your emotions. “I-I cannot feel this way so soon—fresh out of a relationship…I’ve only known you for, what? A month? We barely even know each other, Harry-”

“See, now, that’s where you’re wrong. You think I don’t know you, but I bet that you know I know you quite well. Probably more than all of your bitchy friends back home who you’ve known for years.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but he was right, he did know you better than anyone you knew back in SF. “If I didn’t know you then I wouldn’t know that your favorite thing to eat while you were growing up was chocolate croissants. Your favorite color often switches every few days, but some of them are, and specifically: maroon, evergreen, mustard yellow, burnt orange, and beige. You love watching kids cooking competitions in your free time and often root for the one who is doing miserably and knows who won’t make it to the next round. You’re learning how to bake, which is what you said that you’ve always wanted to learn out to make proper pastries, and based on what you bring to work for us to try, you’re on the right path to being a baker.”

“I’m…” you were at a loss for words, tears lining your eyes. All of the questions and playful conversation you and Harry had during work had come around in his words; it showed that Harry really listened, and when he did, he didn’t forget every detail you’ve told him. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, making your stomach flutter in giddiness and shock.

“I could go on, honestly, but it would be an entire list of things that I’ve remembered about you.” Harry softly smiled down at his feet. “All I’m saying is this: I like to think I know the basics of you, and I still have a lot to learn about you. But don’t run away from me, please. If you want to and you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you walk out without trying not to stop you.” He sighed, completely putting himself out there as he was practically begging you to stay. “I really like you, Y/N, I mean it. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a month. I don’t care that you just got out of a relationship. I mean if you’re still in love with him or have a bit of interest in him still, then that’s different-”

“I don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head no. It was the truth; you hadn’t felt love for your ex in a really long time, and you simply stayed with him and kept forgiving him just because it was comfortable.

“Okay…”

“It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of person who moves on from relationships so quickly. I-I mean, I didn’t come here just to find myself in another relationship, y’know?” Your tone was concerning, like all of your worries were piling up into one big stack that made your head hurt from thinking too much.

“No one’s gonna think that—I don’t think that. Besides, it isn’t any of their business.” Harry walked even closer to you, inches away as his hands grazed your upper arms. “Let me ask you something, does this feel right? Being with me?” You nodded with no hesitation. “Say it,” he instructed, wanting to hear the words come out of your mouth.

“This feels right.”

Harry smiled at you comfortingly. “Okay, then let it be right.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, looking down. He lifted your chin up with the soft touch of his fingertips, goosebumps littered your skin with just his simple touch.

“Me too, but I’m doing surprisingly well at hiding it. We’ll go slow, okay? No pressure into labeling; let’s just go with the flow, alright?” He suggested, and you softly muttered an ‘okay,’ reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a warm and grateful hug.

“I’m so sorry-” you said into his shoulder, but he quickly cut you off.

“No need to be sorry, I understand.” His understanding makes you even more soft as you hugged him tighter; a few tears slipped your eyes, streaming down Harry’s shoulder.

After a moment, the two of you pulled away, feeling so much relief from the hug and conversation.

“Is your offer on staying the night still up?” You asked hesitantly.

He smiled. “Yeah, it always is. C’mon.” He took you by the hand, leading you to his room and into his bed—not for the actions of pleasure, but for a nice and comforting cuddle.

You situated yourself on his chest, comfortably trailing your fingers up and down his skin as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder.

Lifting your head up to meet his face, he smiled at you before you gave him a sweet kiss to his lips. It didn’t lead to anything, it didn’t even deepen; just the feel of his soft, pink lips on yours was enough to make you feel bliss.

You pulled away. “Slow?” Harry chuckled, nodding his head.

“Slow.”

Your face warmed up as you smiled, cheeks aching; you positioned yourself back onto his chest for the night, taking up all of his space on the bed when your side was completely empty as you held him close. Even though you’ve only known him for a month, you felt yourself falling; because ultimately, it felt right.

please come into my inbox and tell me your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #hs

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Hostage Situation

When Y/N L/N is kidnapped by Peter Pan to serve as a hostage and coerce her kingdom into leaving Neverland alone, she can only laugh. The mutual hatred between her and Pan, however, may lose its fire after a while.

masterlist

Your feet tread methodically around the grounds. You loop around the castle, walking past scraggly bushes and dying trees, eyes occasionally flickering to the large mountains in the distance. Your mother and father keep an impressive castle, but their focus rarely extends to the upkeep of the grounds themselves. Kings and Queens don’t exactly bother themselves with gardening- that will fall to the servants or, when you’ve managed to bore yourself enough, you.

Technically, you should be back in the castle. You are a princess, after all, and princesses rarely roam about the grounds in dirty, faded boots that have walked more miles than the most experienced of messengers. This being said, you’re not sure anyone will spare you enough thought to care. You may be a princess, but only in blood and title. Anything else must be fought for, and you’ve given up such pastimes long ago.

You suppose you’re still musing over this, which is why you don’t see the shadow swooping down over you until it’s too late. By the time you feel the uncanny stillness, or notice that an unusual darkness has swarmed around you, the shadow’s eerily human arms have wrapped around you, and your feet are already lifting from the ground. You struggle, but it is in vain, and soon you’re watching trees and rivers pass miles below you. You lock eyes with the shadow being, but its glowing white gaze betrays nothing but an emotionless urge to complete orders. Wherever you’re going, someone is waiting for you, someone who is controlling this shadow.

This realization troubles you more than you like. You don’t much like the idea of being taken somewhere, and you’re not about to just sit around and let it happen. You wait until the shadow swoops low over a rolling set of hills, and begin to fight back with renewed vigor. Although your blows tend to sink through the only somewhat corporeal shadow, you manage to stun it enough that it drops you. You fall through the air, catching yourself in the boughs of trees and scrambling down.

Your feet pound on the dirt as you sprint away from the shadow, but even this effort is useless. It appears out of nowhere in front of you, and as you skid to a stop it raises its hands and a wave of shadow rushes from it. The darkness pools around you like ink, rising to swallow you whole. You can only see one last thing before the darkness engulfs you completely: the white beacons of light that are the shadow’s eyes. Then there is nothing to see at all, and you can feel yourself falling to the ground.

When you wake up again, you find yourself lying down. You’ve been propped up against a tree, and when you open your eyes, you realize you’re in the middle of a forest. It’s a different forest than the one you were just in, and at a different time of day. The shadow must have continued the journey while you were still unconscious. You shiver slightly at the thought- wherever you are, it won’t be good. You move to sit up, but a wave of dizziness yawns open in your stomach and you lean back once more. You go to steady yourself, but your hands don’t move- they’ve been tied together with rough rope.

You had done your best to stay silent, but it’s not like you’re alone. Across the clearing, about a dozen or more boys dressed in robes of faded brown dance around a campfire. An almost maniacal glee spreads across each of their faces as they whirl and jump around, dancing to the haunting sound of a flute. The music stops after a second, but the boys continue dancing. You shiver slightly, then straighten up as a new boy approaches you. This one is dressed not in the russet tones of the others, but instead a dark, forest green. He must be their leader.

He crouches down in front of you, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Welcome, princess.” You raise an eyebrow at his tone. “An interesting welcome, sure. Nothing says fun like ropes and a kidnapping.” The boy just chuckles. “It wasn’t like you made it easy for us.” You shrug, eyes wandering away from the boy to skim the trees surrounding you. An idea is starting to click into place in your head. There’s a story you heard once, from a traveling merchant. There was an island deep in the ocean, full of boys who never seemed to grow old. They were led by one in particular, one boy who could make grown men shiver in their boots.

Your attention snaps back to the boy. Now you really look at him, at his knife-sharp grin and the cool confidence he wears like a glove. His smirk widens as if he can read your mind. “Do you know where you are, love?” You sigh, leaning your head back against the tree in exasperation. “Let me guess, I’m on Neverland.” The boy spread his hands as if in pride, and you resist the urge to groan.

If this is Neverland, then the boy in front of you must be Peter Pan. And you have heard enough about Peter Pan to know that any hour spent with this devil of a boy will be absolute hell.

Pan notices the realization sink into the girl’s eyes. She must have heard of him, he assumes, or she wouldn’t be looking at him like that. However, unlike the other visitors, there isn’t a shred of fear in her gaze. No, she just looks like she’s been dealt an unfortunate round of cards, rather annoyed instead of outright afraid. Pan’s not sure how he feels about that.

Y/N considers the rope tying her wrists. “Well, Peter, are you going to untie me or just let me stew here for a while?” Pan frowns. “It’s Pan. And no, you may be a princess but that doesn’t mean we’re all going to bow to you whenever you ask. There’s only one monarch in Neverland, and I’m afraid that title belongs to me. You’ll have to sit tight until they find out you’re missing.” Y/N scoffs, and then her eyes grow alight with suppressed laughter. “Wait- I think I know why I’m here. You’re trying to use me as a hostage.”

Y/N laughs even harder now, and Pan frowns. “I’m not sure why that’s funny. Your kingdom has been infringing upon my waters for a long time now. I intend to stop them.” Y/N shakes her head, doing her best to bite back a grin. “No, I get it. Great motive, but I’m afraid you chose the wrong hostage.” She fixes him with a cool look, finally keeping her laughter in check. “I’ve been kidnapped a couple of times before. Trust me, they won’t come for me. Not the guards, not my parents. I’m not useful to them.”

Pan frowns, curious despite himself. “What do you mean, you’re not useful to them?” Y/N shrugs. “The reason my parents became the King and Queen is because they were able to channel the power of my ancestors. Every monarch in my kingdom uses some magical artifact to gain increased strength, life, wisdom, you name it. The only problem is that it doesn’t work with me, so I’ve ceased to be a worry to them. I can’t use magic at all- not for them, not for you. You can hold me on this island for as long as you want, but it won’t work. They’re not coming after me.”

The words are light, spoken with the last traces of a laugh, but Pan still feels his stomach clench with some unnameable emotion. Maybe Y/N is meant to be a Lost Girl, maybe she’s more lost than any of them. This though alone fills him with loathing. If she’s a Lost Girl, then she’s supposed to stay on the island, even beyond her sentence as a hostage. Pan, however, is fairly sure that he doesn’t want to see this girl longer than a second. She had better be wrong about her parents, because Pan is certain that he’s going to end up killing her before the guards arrive on the shores of Neverland to rescue her.

You wake early, just before dawn begins to stain the tops of the trees with the light of morning. You stand up, stretching, and glance around the clearing. The Lost Boys appear to have gone to sleep, Pan included. They’ve left you alone for now, but you have no doubt that they’re still watching. Besides, it’s not like it would matter anyway- there’s nowhere for you to go. You’re on an island, after all, and there’s no way you could swim far enough to reach another nation’s shores.

Careful not to make a sound, you meander over to the campfire. Your hopes are proven correct when you spy a knife lying abandoned in the dirt. You pick it up, beginning to saw away at your ropes as you walk out of the clearing. You toss the cut ropes behind you, tucking the knife into your boot just in case. On an island like this, you never know when you might need a weapon.

You end up walking for about ten minutes before you get the feeling that you’re being watched. You roll your eyes. “I know you’re there, you can come out now.” One second you’re alone, and the next you’re being shoved up against a tree, an arm against your throat to stop you from moving. “You know, I’m fairly sure escaping prisoners aren’t supposed to call out to their jailers.” You scoff, pushing Pan’s arm away from you. “I appreciate the concern, Peter, but I’m not trying to escape. I’m just having a good time exploring the forest.”

You can see Pan’s eyes darken when you use his first name, but he ignores the jibe. “Who said I care about your wellbeing? I’m just making sure that you aren’t getting any ideas about an escape.” You give him a look, continuing on along the trails of the forest. “Anyone stuck on an island with you would think about escape.” He just chuckles, walking alongside you. “Tell that to my Lost Boys. They’ve chosen to leave the world behind to live on Neverland.” You smirk at him. “And what a sorry, sorry choice they’ve made.” He glares at you, but you just grin.

If you’re going to have to stay on this accursed island, you at least intend to enjoy yourself.

Y/N wakes up every morning to walk the island. Pan’s not sure why she bothers- there’s nowhere for her to go. Yet every dawn she wakes like clockwork, opening her eyes and beginning her wanderings. Pan has wondered if she’s awoken by nightmares, and that’s why she gets up so early, but if she’s plagued by night terrors Y/N is very good at hiding it. She doesn’t seem concerned at all, just keen to see the forest. Pan’s long since given up on the binding ropes- she just finds some way to remove them.

Pan’s watching his Lost Boys practice fighting when he senses another pair of eyes watching the sparring boys. He glances up to see Y/N, half hidden among the trees. Her gaze is glued to the boys, and he can almost picture her dissecting every move. There was an opening, when John stumbled, there was an opportunity, when Devin swung too low. Pan’s never heard of a princess that could fight, but if there ever was one, he’s sure that it would be her. Y/N lacks many of the key characteristics of a princess- charm being one of them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could hold her own in a fight.

After the match ends with a triumphant Devin raising his fists to the sky, Pan steps forward. Instantly, the eyes of the Lost Boys all flash to him, including Y/N’s. He doesn’t speak that often, usually allowing Felix to lead classes. When he does have something to say, the Lost Boys tend to listen. Pan gestures for Y/N to step out of the grove of trees. “Well, princess, care to join the ring? Or are you all talk as we thought?”

She laughs, but Pan can see the glint of a challenge rising in her eyes. Y/N steps forward, and Pan points out a Lost Boy to act as her opponent. “Nick, I’d usually tell you to not rough her up too bad, but to be honest, I think we all want to see her get punched.” Y/N smirks. “If that’s true, why don’t you come down here and fight me yourself?” It’s a challenge, certainly, but Pan speaks before it can gain traction with the Lost Boys. “I’d never dirty my hands fighting someone like you.” Y/N, wisely, says no more, and shifts into a fighting stance opposite Nick.

To be honest, Pan does have to feel bad for the guy. No matter what he tries, Y/N throws him away like he’s nothing. She blocks his attacks, she punches and kicks and basically tears the guy to shreds. It would be humiliating were it not for the fact that Y/N is so obviously better than anyone on this island except for Pan and maybe Felix. Y/N flashes Pan a grin, extending a hand lightly coated in blood that does not belong to her. “Want to send another Lost Boy into the ring, or have you accepted the fact that I’m not going down easily?” Pan returns her smile. “I think I’m good.” And maybe, he just might be okay with all of this.

You’re relaxing by the campfire in the morning when you first hear the sounds of running footsteps. After that fight with Nick (although fight isn’t exactly the right word for it, maybe instead you could call it a bloodbath), the other Lost Boys accepted you immediately. Even Peter seems to approve of you now, and you catch him smiling softly at you across a clearing when he thinks you can’t see. You’re not sure why you notice, or why you keep thinking about it, but you’re fairly sure he shouldn’t linger behind your eyes as long as he does.

You look up at the swiftly approaching pair of Lost Boys, expecting to see them collapse in laughter, but the boys instead look worried, faces drawn with anxiety. You stand up, suddenly tense. What could make these boys look so nervous? They run over to Peter, practically tripping over themselves in an attempt to make it to their leader. Even from here, you can hear their words. “Guards- a ship full- the king and queen- they’re attacking us.”

You can see Peter’s face freeze. He speaks to them quickly. “They were flying the flags of Y/N’s kingdom? You’re sure of it?” They nod. “They’re pouring down the beaches now. They’ll be here any second.” Peter curses under his breath, calling to the rest of the boys to grab weapons and defend the camp. You race over to him. “I can fight. Give me a weapon.” Peter stares at you. “You’d fight against your parents?” You nod. “They’re not here for me, they’re here for the magic on the island. Trust me, they wouldn’t come all this way if they didn’t think they could get something out of it.”

Peter’s brow furrows as he realizes what you’re saying. “You think that’s why they’re here?” You nod. “There’s no other reason. I’ve been kidnapped before, they never came. They’re not here for me.” You repeat, and Peter’s jaw clenches. “Get a sword, you can fight with the others.” He starts to move away, then steps back to you. “And Y/N? Stay safe.” You nod, returning the assurance of safety. Then the two of you run your separate ways, each desperate to save the island that’s somehow become your home in a matter of weeks.

You pull on a hooded cloak so the guards can’t recognize you. You can’t take the chance that they’d try to bring you back to the ship, not when you’re supposed to be fighting for Neverland. Your sword moves in a never-stopping arc, cutting through armor and slicing the soldiers like the warriors of old. At last, you pause for a second, noting that the situation on the beach has cleared. Yet you don’t see your parents, even though the Lost Boys said they were here. A chill rises in your throat as you realize what must be happening, and you turn and race back to the camp. Back to Peter.

Sure enough, your parents have found him. They’re using all of their magic against him, doing their best to take him down. Peter is strong, far stronger than either of them. Yet the two of them and additional guards against one Lost Boy isn’t a fair fight, even if it’s against Peter. Your heart is pounding in your throat. You’re going to have to make a decision, one you promised yourself you’d never have to make.

You fling your arms up, and a wall of magic slams into your parents. They crumple to the ground along with the guards and lie there, unmoving. You can tell that they’re still breathing, albeit slowly. Peter’s gaze flashes from the suddenly unconscious guards to you, who stands there still, breathing heavily. Your arms are still raised from the burst of magic, and you lower them slowly. His gaze seems to burn right through you, and you begin to speak quickly, desperate to say something, anything, to stop the cutting look in his eyes.

“They never saw me, their backs were turned. We can get them onto the ships and away. They’ll think it was you, that you were too powerful for them. They won’t return. They won’t know about me.” Peter steps forward, but your feet feel leaden in your boots. You’re not sure you could move if you tried. His voice is quiet. “You do have magic.” You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t want them to know. I knew if they found out they would use me as a weapon, and I didn’t want to live as their blade.”

Understanding begins to dawn in Peter’s eyes. “You didn’t need the artifacts because you already had power of your own. You were smart to hide it from them.” His brow furrows again, confusion sweeping over him. “Why would you show me? Why would you trust me?” You look away. “You let me into your island, into the Lost Boys, without knowing about my powers for a second. I served no use to you, not even as a hostage. You didn’t want me here because of how I could help you, you wanted me here because of who I was. That’s why.”

Peter’s quiet for a second, and you begin to think that you’ve said too much. “They’ll probably find out after a while. I can board another ship, make my way back to the Enchanted Forest. They won’t bother you if I leave.” Peter says nothing, and you almost fear that he won’t say anything at all. That he’ll let you leave without another word, too wounded over this lie. Then his hand is on your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him, and he kisses you.

He kisses you for a second, then breaks away. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your cheeks. “I’m not letting them take you. Not now, not ever. I don’t want you to leave, Y/N. You’ve been a Lost Girl since the day you arrived and I can’t let you go because you want to protect us.” A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips. “What happened to there only being one monarch on the island?” Peter laughs quietly. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

#peter pan #peter pan imagines #peter pan x reader #peter pan oneshot #ouat #ouat imagines #ouat x reader #ouat oneshot #peter pan ouat #peter pan ouat imagines #peter pan ouat x reader #peter pan ouat oneshot #once upon a time #once upon a time peter pan #once upon a time imagines #once upon a time x reader #once upon a time oneshot

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buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

3:1 - B. Barnes Imagine

NOTE: this is my first time writing for bucky or sebastian stan in general so feedback is appreciated! please let me know if you like this and if you'd like to see more. THIS DOES CONTAIN SMUTTY UNDERTONES TOWARDS THE END, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: I just added sebastian stan/characters to my taglist form so if you already filled it out before just message me and I'll add you to this one.

three times bucky was clueless with technology and the one time he used it right

Despite spending most of his less-than-average life inside of a giant freezer and aging up to triple digits—if we’re speaking technically, your boyfriend still gained many physical benefits compared to most men his age. For one thing, he is still alive and breathing—a huge accomplishment, if anything, maybe even a record. The physical appearance and athletic ability he still maintained were not a downside either. As far as anybody is concerned, James Buchanan Barnes appears like any other millennial/super-soldier/metal arm-bearing person.

With exception to the fact that the man himself can’t even call you on your phone without needing assistance. That sentence is way less sad when taking into account that he was not alive for the upbringing of touch screens and AI’s, which happened to be waiting everywhere around the complex to aid him and his various, enigmatic asks, such as:

“My phone died. How do I revive it?”

“What did I win a free iPad for?”

“Friday, what does the word ‘bih’ mean?”

Once speaking the last one, he is left unanswered, and Friday is alerting you in the living area moments later.

“Y/N, Mr. Barnes is needing your assistance with a text you sent. He would like a definition of the word ‘bih’ but I cannot find it in my dictionary.” The AI asking for your help in babysitting Bucky on his phone earns a snort from you.

“Thanks, Friday. I’ll go help him.” You heave yourself up from the couch cushion and march towards his bedroom--technically, it is both of yours now. After reaching the entrance, a smile crawls onto your lips at the sight before you. The hefty Miriam-Webster English dictionary splayed open on your lover’s lap as he flips through pages, reciting miscellaneous words his eyes land on in search of the one from your message.

“Big, bin, bio…” Seconds later, he is slamming the book shut and tossing it aside. A loud thud resounds across the room as you watch it land on the hardwood floor. When you glance back up to announce your presence to Bucky, you see his gaze already transfixed on you. A quiet huff comes from him, and his eyes avert from your figure in the doorway, his cheeks becoming tinged with an opaque red. It was no puzzle that the sergeant despised calling for help, even on the minuscule tasks, like how to turn the flash of his camera off or define a slang term unbeknownst to him until your message was delivered to his phone.

“A little birdy told me you needed help.” You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the doorframe with a satisfied smirk. You were one of the few and trusted Bucky had learned to open up to in the time that you have come to know him. No matter the issue, or how long it took for you to wear down the stubbornness on his tongue, the plea would sound eventually.

“I just don’t know what this word means.” He grunts. “Is it a typo?”

A line of giggles fall from you at his hopelessly confused expression--eyebrows furrowed, pupils appearing lost in thought at this simple “code word” he couldn’t crack. It made you want to swaddle him in the softest blanket and cuddle him until eternity.

“That’s because it’s not a real word,” you begin through laughs. The scrunch on his face only deepens in its perplexity. “‘Bih’ is short for...it’s short for bitch.” You shrug. His mouth parts in revelation.

“So you...you think I’m a…” he turns his eyes down to the pixelated string of messages…”thick female dog?” You snicker.

“‘Thick bih’ is a compliment, Buck. It just means I like your body a lot.”

“Oh...thank you?” He casts his eyes up at you once more, quirking a brow.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyways...now that you’re here. I emailed you a photo.” He shoots a wink in your direction. Almost as though you two had traded faces, the confused look transferred over to your wrinkled forehead and tilted head.

“Oh...okay. I’ll check it later.”

You thought nothing of it, and let his statement slip your mind. It was not until later that you decided to scan through your emails with Wanda, who mentioned something mission-related in your inbox that she demanded the two of you look at and study. As you skimmed through to find it, you deleted several junk emails and starred some important ones. When you landed on the electronic mail your boyfriend mentioned earlier and clicked on it, your breath left you at the large photo of his considerably-sized girth.

“Woah! Woah!” Wanda squeals, reaching her hand up to shield her eyes now tainted with the sight of your man’s junk. The early afternoon comes back into your mind, with you against the doorframe, Bucky throwing the dictionary and demanding a translation of your text, and the wink he threw at you.

Of course, the wink. It should have been obvious what the intentions behind his email were at that point, but then again it really shouldn’t have. Because who sends nude photos over email?

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, now wearing red cheeks. You turn to face Wanda who is already out of her seat and facing away from the computer screen, calling back to you in a desperate scurry to her room, “We’ll just talk later!”

“Bucky,” you enter the bedroom with a growl minutes later, a rather great contrast to what you were feeling earlier in the day.

“Hey, doll. Did you ever open my email?” He was seated on the edge of the bed, eyeing something on his phone. He quickly pockets it, allowing you his undivided attention.

“Yeah, and Wanda had something to say about it too.” The comment came out through gritted teeth, but he deciphered every word. His blue eyes enlarged, petrified.

“She was with you? Wh-why’d you let her see it?” He almost squeals in his fit of mortification. Serves him right, you think to yourself. He won’t have to face Wanda and apologize to her later.

“I didn’t know when you said “picture” earlier you meant a nude! Who sends a dick pic over email, Bucky?” Silence follows your outcry until his deep voice pipes up moments later.

“Is that not normal?” He is fiddling with his fingers, clenching his teeth in anticipation of your answer. Which is an expected:

“No.” The man in front of you turns feeble, wearing a humiliated face that turns your insides to mush. The twenty-plus minutes of lashing you were practicing in your head on your walk to the room disappeared as he turns his face down.

“I’m sorry, doll. You know...you know I’m not good with this stuff.” A sigh exits your lips as Bucky is approached by your consoling figure. You take a seat beside him on the bed and a comforting hand takes place on his metal shoulder, with you leaning your head down on the flesh one, closest to you.

“I know, Buck. Just warn a girl next time...with more than a wink.”

“In 1943 that was considered a warning.” The two of you chuckle.

“You know what, better yet...” your hands are flying to his pocket before he can stop them. He barely utters the question before you’re fingertips are tapping across the screen.

“Hey, what’re you--”

“You should really put a lock on this thing.” You chuckle. “A thumbprint, passcode...something.”

“You can do that?” His ludicrous question has you fighting a roll of your eyes. Shaking your head, you wait a few moments for the application to install on the device, and smile triumphantly when the neon yellow square pops up on his home screen. The white ghost in the middle of the icon stares back at him when you place the phone back in his hands.

“There you go.”

“What is this?” He clicks the app to find out for himself, only to be met with the options of logging in or creating an account.

“An app that’s appropriate for sending nudes.” Shivers trail down his spine from your whisper against the shell of his ear. He hums, admiring the screen for a few seconds and taking no further action to make an account.

“You need help, don’t you?”

“It’d be appreciated.”

Since that encounter, your significant other has learned the basics of social platforms and how to properly exploit each one for his needs. Ignoring the one week where he discovered Snapchat filters and send photos of himself in every single one nonstop, the most common one you two have grown to use is the messaging application. It was efficient and easy for him to understand.

Until he, much like when he used Snapchat, discovered something new. And that something new was emojis. After receiving a Snapchat notification from him, which could no doubt be holding either a photo of him with the dancing weiner or his actual one, he shot you a text message from across the compound.

did you see my chatsnap? 🌚

You chose to disregard the blatant, incorrect name and reply:

yes, buck. I get notifications

and WHY THE HELL DID YOU SEND THAT EMOJI??? 😫

what? it’s just a moon 🌚🌚🌚 see?

I can see it’s a moon Bucky. Why did you choose that one?

It’s nighttime. and I’m smiling. It fits.

It’s creepy is what it is

It’s just a moon! 🌚

STOP SENDING IT! 😖😖

fine.

🌝

🤦‍♀️ that’s not what I meant

it’s not my fault you’re scared of the moon, y/n 💅

You chose to change the subject then, no longer holding the desire to stare at the infamous “molester moon” or bucky’s new use of emojis in a sassy manner

please tell me the snap you sent isn’t of the dancing hot dog again

I could tell you that

but I’d be lying if I did.

🙄

🌝 I think this one's my favorite

The third time Bucky struggled with the new-age doodads surrounding him, his rage was at an all-time high. But his reaction is justifiable after discovering it was purely out of fear.

“Do you know what the weather’s gonna be like tomorrow?” He mumbles as the two of you were longing on the bed, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“Not sure, why?”

“Was thinkin’ we could go to that café. The one with the jukebox.” His head bounces with your body as you let out a few light laughs.

“Because it’s the one piece of technology you can actually use?” He pulls away from you defensively, a frown smeared on his face.

He whines out. “I am not that bad with technology?” You roll your eyes and reach for your phone on the bedside table, clicking the button on the side.

“Hey Siri, what’s the weather look like tomorrow?” You ask aloud, cueing Bucky to furrow his eyebrows.

“Let’s see...the weather tomorrow—“ you were unable to hear the rest of the AI’s sentence due to the sight of Bucky springing out of bed and tugging the set of sharpened knives from his pants.

“Whose there? Who the hell said that?”

“Bucky—“

“I think the complex may have been hacked. Come on, let’s go get Bruce o-or somebody.” He stutters out in a panic, tugging your body behind him in a protective manner. Siri was still activated on your phone, which was now lying on the bed.

“I’m not quite sure I understand—“

“Who the hell are you?!” He demands in a loud voice.

“Bucky, Bucky…” you rest your hands on both his shoulders, urging him to calm down. “It’s just my phone.” After the quick reassurance, he feels his shoulders slump.

“Oh...oh…I knew that.” He puts his knives away, following you as you crawled back into bed. Before fully getting beneath the covers, he sheathes himself of his trousers and top, leaving him only in a pair of boxers.

“Sure you did.” You reply.

“I did.” He insists, before covering both of you with your comforter. Before succumbing to a much-needed rest though, he reaches over and grabs a knife left on the floor, tucking it beneath his pillow.

Just in case.

The following morning, Bucky is no longer paranoid that the complex was hijacked and broken into. Rather, his mind was on a package he ordered online (AND ALL BY HIMSELF, a large victory if you ask him) that, according to the tracker, is one stop away. When you peeked your eyes open to admire him beneath the covers basking in the morning glow, his mischievous smile lit something warm inside you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You yawn through languid blinks. He only responds with a shrug, aiming to keep the box a secret.

“Big day ahead, why don’t you go start us a shower. I’ll meet you there.” He smirks, blue eyes flashing with something cunning. At this point, you were even more curious.

“Big day? I thought we were just going for coffee?”

“When I’m with you, it’s always a big day.” His raspy voice is sly, metal hand even slyer as it glides up and down your hip.

“Alright Barnes, you win. See you in a minute.” You press your lips to his for a short few seconds and heave your body up from the bed to venture to the connected bathroom. As soon as you crack the door behind you, Bucky leaps from his spot in the sheets and nearly stumbles to the ground, his foot getting tangled in part of the bedding. He wastes no time scurrying to the front door, nearly nude and praying to God nobody would cross paths with him. Seeing the package laying on the doormat in all its glory--Bucky swore he heard angels singing hymns from above. Taking it into his grip and hustling back to his room took little-to-no time. When he slipped inside of the bathroom, he found you removing your hair from the messy knot you threw it up in the night prior, the rest of you bare.

He dropped his boxers and followed you inside the transparent cube, soon to become fogged with the warm steam and your panting breaths if he is lucky enough to pull another round from you.

Spoiler alert, he got lucky. Twice.

Whilst getting dressed, he halts your attempt at wiggling on a pair of leggings.

"I have a surprise for you." He says, waltzing over to the package he haphazardly threw on the bed in his eagerness to join you in the shower. The package lies in your hands seconds later, Bucky delivering you a nod as permission to tear it open. Once you do, your jaw unhinges at the packaging.

The small, pink sex toy stared back at you in all its glory. You could only muster a few blinks at it, wondering how your boyfriend managed to deliver this to himself all on his own yet still strains himself in trying to change his profile picture.

"Wha--how..." you are at a loss of words, to say the least. His piercing blue eyes grow dark at the sight of you holding his surprise.

"It's a big day today, because..." he snatches the packaged toy from you, beginning to open it, "you're gonna wear this out for me today. And I'm gonna control it." Your eyes grow big at his explanation before they dart to the now unpackaged vibrator.

"There's no remote." You point out, and gasp as Bucky holds up his phone for your eyes to see. The application which connects the controls of the vibrator to his phone stares back at you dauntingly.

"Figured I'd give this wifi-powered one a try. But, you know how I am with technology so...it may take awhile for me to get the hang of it," his tone is sultry as he mumbles, and it sends chills through you that directly target your privates. His eyes bore into yours, still holding that look of playfulness from earlier.

"Finish getting ready, doll. I'm ready to take this thing for a test drive."

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #Sebastian stan imagines #Sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan fluff #Sebastian stan smut #Sebastian stan angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

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fybillielourd · 5 years

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I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.

#billie lourd #interview #star wars #Carrie Fisher

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yinses · 3 years

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ethereal lullaby

| days, months, years… it didn’t matter. you were willing to wait a lifetime.|

siren!gojo satoru

rating: T ( yeah i know, surprised myself)

a/n: not going to talk about me accepting this without understanding what a siren was. thank you to new friends for helping me not look like an idiot. took the friends to lovers approach because simp vibes. amen. i might do a sequel just to up the rating a bit because this already got so long. we’ll see.

thanks to @kinbari14 for the hc. it was a fun challenge.

your parents tried to highlight the positives- how could they not after dragging their fifteen year old away from home. you were in the middle of your teenage years, just starting to hone confidence in your social skills. they told you it would be exciting.

r_ight next to the ocean_, they coaxed as if you’d ever cared to swim.

sitting on the shores now with your toes curled in the sand, you wondered if your friends were missing you as much as you missed them.

the moon full and bright, high enough to signal that it was well past your curfew. but your parents were more lenient this summer, trying anyway they could to smooth your transition. it was a brief allowance that you would take advantage of while you could.

collecting the shoes at your feet, you sighed heavily, deciding that it was time to head back for the night. the more effort you made the easier it would pass through.

your back had just turned to the shores when you heard the sound- soft, melodic as it seemed to warm your ears.

it sounded like a song, but you’d never heard anyone on the radio sound this good. the voice tickled your consciousness and you shook your head to fight away the haze. yet the cloud lingered, drifting down to your feet this time.

it felt like you were walking on cotton candy, a jovial step, knocking your knees together as you put more distance between yourself and the house. a tinge of fear cooled your spine but the sensation wasn’t strong enough to sway the superior force.

the closer you got the more you came to recognize the sound. not able to tie it to a specific person but certain that it was a person. it reminded you of the choir melodies from your old school but not even the star could compare.

you were able to register the shift from sand to rocky gravel but not the sharp pinch as rocks dug into your feet. the song still carried you closer, around the bend and towards the mouth of a cave.

despite every strand of common sense warning you not to, you crossed the threshold. the cavern played a devil’s advocate- enticing you with mystery while amplifying the the lyrics you still couldn’t place.

the effort to figure it out didn’t seem worth it, nothing superseded the call.

all too quick you reached the wide pool that spread out at the end and suddenly the song stopped. the splash of water at your feet was enough to startle your system, sending you reeling back as you tripped against the damp ground.

something too intense to call an emotion trampled your ability to move as you were left frozen to watch as a figure pulled itself to the edge.

the first thing you took in was the shock of white hair but that was nothing compared to the two turquoise pearls blinking up at you.

“huh… you’re what i caught?”

it almost sounded bored.

the shrill of your scream drowned out the slow drawl of condescension. the- boy? hissed and shrank back, hand coming up to cover his ears.

“no, no! stop. goddess that hurts.”

you instinctively go to kick back, but he is faster, something wet and slimly curling around your ankle. the grip draws you closer, uncaring of the way the unforgiving ground bit into your back.

your lips part to scream again but the sound gets stuck at the sharp glare you receive. water continued to drip from the strands of his hair, the drops that met your skin were ice cold. he was close enough now that you could smell the salt from the sea against his skin. near enough that you almost lost yourself in the bright pools taking you in equally.

his eyes track the motion as you lick your lips. “who are you?”

the hand that still ensnared you loosened to a soft caress as his fingertips traced your skin. as he did, you came to note that his wasn’t quite as smooth- something akin to glossy ridges.

you didn’t like when he hummed. not because the sound was unbearing, but because of the opposite. the pull wasn’t as powerful as before but there was no denying the source.

“who are you?” he echoed back.

when your eyes narrow, he shoots you a wicked grin full of sharp teeth.

unable to do much else, you offer you name and find yourself surprised when he returns the gesture.

“satoru.”

you try the name for yourself. neither of you can deny that it doesn’t fall quite the same from your lips. your gaze cuts down as he shifts again, revealing the bareness that stopped just short of his waistline. cheeks warming, you decided that his eyes were the lesser evil.

“aren’t you cold?”

satoru’s head tilts at the question. “no … are you?” as if he could check, his thumb brushes against the sensitive side of your ankle. you can’t resist another kick, but he’s more than prepared.

this time however, he doesn’t just hold it down, instead lifting it closer as he inspected your heel.

“these were always peculiar to me. so many little appendages, yet too small to do much.”

these?

as if you enunciate your curiosity, your toes wiggle in response. the action prompts melodious laughter.

“what, and yours are better?”

the old battle of boys vs girls somehow melds into the bizarre situation. as if catching on to the challenge something akin to glee lights up in his eyes as he draws closer. but before he could accept the provocation, another voice breaks into the conversation.

the voice is urgent, worried and carrying your name.

astonished, satoru’s grip loosens enough for you to wiggle out as you scramble to your feet. his eyes narrow as he realizes this and he his arm shoots out to reclaim his prize. this time you’re faster though and step back.

you don’t like the way he rises to this new dare as if he as prepared to intervene if necessary.

“that’s my dad,” you explain, not sure if you should even be telling him this. “ i need to go.”

“no.”

your mind halts at the intensity behind command.

‘’what do you mean no? i’ll get in trouble. i’m already in trouble.”

the waters shift violently behind the boy as he raises onto his elbows as if to present a greater turbulence should you not heed.

troubled, you bit your lips as your father’s voice carries near. it was only a hunch, but something told you that their meeting wouldn’t be a good thing. quickly you scramble for an alternative.

“if you let me go now, i’ll come back and bring you something. its summertime so i have more freedom.”

though you felt your privileges dwindling the longer you lingered.

satoru took too long to consider your offer and you began to question your chances of just running for it.

“fine, but you better be back.”

relief filled your chest as you already turned towards the mouth of the cave.

“yes! i promise. sooner than today though, i wont be able to be out this late again.”

you tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it wasn’t returned. there was distrust in his eyes but he didnt pursue.

“when the sun sets then.” he adjured. and you were but a humble servant on the prince’s shores.

“sunset,” you agreed as you broke into a run.

the moment you broke free of the grotto you crashed into your father’s arms. the relief on his face was evident.

“there you are! why didn’t you answer, we were worried.”

his arms come around you and you realize you’re shaking.

“jesus, you must be freezing. let’s get back before your mother sends out a search party.”

your arms encircle his waist as you let him drag you away. in one ear, you hear him start up a conversation about the neighborhood you had yet to explore to its fullest, tacking on a few names of children who belonged to some of his new coworkers.

in the other, you heard the beginnings of a new song, one that didn’t seem to reach your father. and you didnt know what to do with that information.

sunset came all too soon the next day, the sun lowering just as dinner came to a close. you lingered close to your mother as you finished the last of the dishes. the tasks were dragging longer than needed, but no one would ever complain about them being extra clean.

as you ran a rag over the porcelain you wondered what would happen if you didn’t show up. you couldn’t get the image of those teeth at of your head, the sharp glint gnawing into your dreams last night. they came off as an obvious threat but surely he couldn’t hurt you.

then your mind drifted to that song. the same nameless lyrics that put you in the predicament in the first place. there was no denying that there was something going on there as well. just avoiding the cave wouldn’t be enough.

all that was left was your curiosity, left to simmer under the plague of ‘what if’. the mysterious surrounding satoru wouldn’t leave you until you made good on your promise. the vow becoming something of a vice.

with your mind made up, you turned to your mother.

“do we have any mochi left?”

your parents hesitantly let you out with a curfew. you’d mentioned that you were held up late by a friend last time- to which your father questioned why you hadn’t mentioned it until now. they were obviously worried about your lack of agreeableness to reach out to the other kids so this initiative helped to ease their weariness.

clutching the small container of sweet mango filled dough to your chest, you made your way back to the little cave. the distance traveled was kinder to you this time with shoes as you made haste down the gravel banks.

uncertainty slowed your steps as you approached the widening curve of the stillness pool. depending on how you gauged the sun, you weren’t terribly late. it was technically still sunset.

a mix of disappointment and relief swam in your gut as you came to the conclusion that your new acquaintance hadn’t met their own end of the deal. maybe his parents had also got onto him about being so late.

it was probably for the best anyway.

“what’s that?”

the volume of your scream made even you wince as the tupperware toppled to the ground. turning on your heel, you came face to face with satoru. you never heard the water part at his entrance.

he wore a bored expression but there was a hint of a smile to his lips. this time he didnt scold you for shrieking, too interested in the container that had toppled near the shore.

bringing your hand to your chest, you reasoned that scolding him would be useless. “its mochi.”

for once, it was his tongue that made the words sound off. apparently the rounded desserts werent part of his vocabulary.

carefully easing onto the ground, you brought the container into your lap.

“it’s my surprise. i hope you’re hungry.”

as you cracked the top, satoru move closer, nose twitching as the smell of mango drifted out. your mother had been all too happy to pack all the extras for you to share.

you offered one.

satoru took it carefully, bringing it to his nose for another cautious sniff. you took in the point of his nails as he split the soft dough. he collected the orange the oozed out and brought it to his mouth.

in the span of seconds, he devoured the entire bun in one bite and snatched the remaining from your hands.

“this is good! i’ll excuse your lateness, this time.”

without the weight in your lap, you drew your knees to your chest as you watched on as he greedily ate one after the other. you considered warning him of the stomachache he would endure if he held the pace, but you decided that it would only fall on deaf ears.

instead you ask,” so about those toes?”

it seemed like such a weird question to ask. equally as strange to satoru as he brow pinched. he brought his fingers to his mouth to clear away the stickiness.

“what are those?”

an age old meme resonated within you and you waited with baited breath for him to carry the joke, but only silence drenched the space between you.

pursing your lips, you shake your foot in reminder. “remember? apparently yours were better?”

“oh.” satoru’s lips smacked audibly as he polished off another bun. and as if it was the most natural thing in the world he shifted back, a bright blue tail that matched his eyes broke the surface.

if you were sure before, you were certain he was going to eat you this time.

because you screamed again.

satoru demanded that you bring him mochi everyday from then on for hurting his ears again.

yes, everyday.

there would be multiple days to instil the notion that you had met a mythical creature. you were still trying to assure yourself that you have been awake the whole time.

your parents no longer needed to worry about you making friends, because apparently you’d managed to befriend a merman.

siren, satoru had hissed after bitting into a blueberry mochi. asking your mother to make mochi only worked for the first few visits. eventually her curiosity to win and lead you down a path you weren’t ready to accept yet.

the trail leading to the acceptance that you were conversing with a fishman- boy.

lounging on your blanket, you had come to store little things for comfort around the cave. sunset rolled back a few hours to afternoon and before you knew it you were spending the majority of your days with satoru.

“don’t your parents ever worry about you being gone so long?”

as usual, satoru was eating. he’d already finished the dango you had brought and moved on to the squid you’d turned down with barely restrained disgust. undeterred, he’d only shrugged and proceeded to gnaw off one of the tentacles.

“no.”

and that was that.

so instead you quizzed him on the mythical world you had and most humans were blind to. he talked about submerged cities, described aquatic creatures you could have never dreamed of if you tried and dissuaded your worst fears.

“so you don’t eat humans?”

“no we do. but i don’t want to eat you.”

you waited for the yet but it never came. satoru seemed content consuming whatever sugary treat you brought and sated the rest with whatever he caught swimming by.

Eventually you let go of the imagery of ariel and her seaside romance and began to soak your free time in legends of beautiful sirens of the sea who took pleasure in drowning their victims. every story warned land dwellers from entering the waters, something you had never shown interest in doing nor had satoru pressured you.

“how old are you satoru?”

“how old are you?”

he always did this, answering questions with his own. it came to you that he might just be remaining within your boundaries to keep you from screaming at him again. a fair assumptions, but you were genuinely curious.

“fifteen,” you offered, prepared to have the same response thrown back at you.

“sixteen.”

satoru raised a brow at your suspicion of disbelief. “i think i know how old i am.”

and you couldn’t fault him for that. you just weren’t expecting him to be so young. sure he looked like he could have been a boy at your school aside from the freckled scales and obvious tail.

“i beat you again, by the way.”

his words draw you from your thoughts. “huh?”

he swallows the remainder of a melon bun.

“i’m older. so i win again.”

you roll your eyes.

tail or not, apparently some things are the same.

two weeks have passed before you realize he hasn’t sung for you since that day. the two of you often meet in the morning now, break for lunch and resume in the late evening. as far as your parents are concerned, you’re on the way to making a new best friend which will only be promising for when you start school.

“you act all funny when i sing. its not meant for your pleasure anyway,” he adds.

for once he’s not eating. he’s lying closer to you, tail still dipped under the water but more of his top half is lain out on the shore. when you try to give him a blanket to lie on to put something between himself and the rocks he gives you a funny look but concedes. now watching as he nuzzles into the the fabric of your cotton blanket, you hide a knowing grin.

“but it sounds pretty, toru.”

when you had first tried out the nickname, you had hesitantly rushed it into a sentence. you were growing comfortable with the siren but the dangers were still present. like most things, it didn’t get past him and he grinned smugly but didn’t tease you further than that.

you were grateful for that as it allowed you to become more comfortable with its usage, likely his intention.

he hums in agreement, eyes sliding close as he readjusts. his tail follows the movement lowly, making small ripples.

“can’t you sing in a way that wont affect me?”

satoru’s eyes flash up to you suddenly and your breath catches in your throat at the sudden shift in the mood.

“no, because then it would be bad for me. if i cant control you then i cant drown you.”

you dont bring up how that would also be bad for you.

you dont bring up his singing again.

summer is edging near completion and your parents start to curb your outings.

“you’ll see them more when school starts. if you dont start to getting to bed earlier now you’ll just make it worse for you.”

there is no way for you to explain how it will be harder to approach your situation to satoru. you were knowingly wedging yourself deeper with him. the first day you met him had marked a streak of possessiveness that kept drawing you back in.

you weren’t just his friend.

you were his.

the thing he looked forward to each morning and regretted parting with each afternoon. you knew this for a fact, because you felt it too.

“okay, i’m going to go a little earlier today. then”

your mother lets you go with a short kiss to your temple and a promise that you’ll return for lunch.

satoru took the news about as well as you would expect.

“you can’t go.”

letting your head fall back on your shoulders, you stared up at the small break in the grotto above. “i have to go to school, toru. if i dont go then ill get in trouble and if that happens then i definitely cant come back.”

you know he knows this too. satoru was smart. a species like his didnt survive this long unknown without intelligence.

but then again, he let you in on the secret and it was too early to gauge the genius in that.

you were more comfortable around each other now, legs bare as your feet dipped into the water. satoru still resumed his post on the shore, arms crossed by your hip as the white of his hair brushed against your thighs.

he seemed to still be digesting the news which gave you the opportunity to probe again.

“i mean, surely you have stuff to do as well. what did you do before you met me?”

satoru deflected the question, head lolling to the side to rest against your skin. the slippery surface of the scales littering his cheek always felt like ice chips.

“ate more stupid people.”

you’d asked about this of course. probably worrying your parents when you brought up with questions of drowning in the area. they seemed unsure before your father assured you that they wouldn’t have let you venture so close to the shore if that was a problem.

so if satoru was indeed eating people like he said, it wasn’t from around here.

part of you still felt like there was a bit of myth still lodged in his truth.

“so you can only meet me at sunset again?”

you make a noise of affirmation, hand raising as it hovers over his head. you had never actually touched it before but as it tickled the inside of your thigh the curiosity grew. before you talked yourself out of it, your hand dropped.

his hair was silky, still damp but drying at a reasonable pace. his head moved under the weight of your hand, but it wasn’t to shake it off. you accepted the invitation and weaved your fingers further.

“on most days. with homework i wont be able to everyday like this either.”

his loud groan rumbles against your leg and he slowly slinks back into the water. your hand clenches around the absence.

“for every extra day you’re not here, you better bring me something great.”

its probably time for you to be going anyway.

you go about collecting your things and tucking away what you could. when you finally stand, you trying to shake way the numbness that had settled.

“we should probably figure out days, so you’re not always just here-”

“no need.”

satoru swam on his back for about half a meter, showing off his full length before his slipped under and reemerged at your feet.

“when you come back i’ll be here.”

the two of you managed to meet a few more times before the first day of classes started. satoru was noticeably nicer to you, or atleast as pleasant as he could be. after finally realizing that you had no interest in dead aquatic animals, he began corralling live ones for you to view.

you realized that the two worlds had different names for a lot of things as he listed off various species and colors. you took a few of them with your phone before the idea hit you.

“hey, toru can i take a picture of you?”

he made a face like he might disagree. there was no need to explain the device as you’d already done plenty of show and tell. one of the earlier showings leaving you to soak your phone in rice for two whole days.

eventually he shrugs and you snap a photo immediately after.

the night sky begets a short flash, one that he winces at and moans in protest. but the picture is worth the complaint.

he looks almost like a human boy wading in a pool- aside of the assortment of blueish scales to his cheeks. your only regret in that he’d closed one eye in reaction to the sudden light. there was a light frown to his face too but that was as genuine as it got.

“let me take one of you.”

you were too surprised to deny him, wordlessly handing off your phone with less worry than you probably should have had. he handles it carefully though, biding by your instructions before you too were wincing away from the flash.

the smile you get from him was better than anything you could have captured.

“can i keep it?”

you laugh, “no, toru. but i can make you something you can.”

highschool was hard enough transitioning up with your junior classmates, the challenges of tackling your first year without out them met your expectations but not the worst of them. you learned quickly who to avoid and who you could be amicable with.

being the new girl was an easier pill to swallow when you came equipped with a few stories from your past home. it gained the interest of a few which made a way from conversation to acquaintanceship.

nothing was quite as exciting as your meeting with satoru but that was to be anticipated.

satoru … unfortunately was seen less and less as the weeks went by. your parents were keen on you making a good first impression which meant a heavy emphasis on your school work.

you mother had offered for you to invite your ‘friend’ over more than once, and invitation that had spanned since your early meeting. but the only thing harder than trying to explain that your satoru was a fish was to add that he was also a boy.

your father might actually overlook the former in favor of the latter.

so you were left to visit him on the weekends and thus compiled your allowance to purchase bigger treats and delicacies alike.

his introduction to cake had a been a messy occurrence. naturally he would forgo the fork you brought to dig in with his fingers.

satoru surprised you by asking about your schooling.

“what? it’s not like ive ever been around that many human before. sounds smelly.”

you laugh, because he’s not wrong. you go into detail about your different teachers and classmates, offering vivid retellings that you hadn't even shared with your parents.

satoru hung onto every words, though not without crass comments and frequent jokes, his attention sent something new aflutter within you.

“i can’t believe the year is almost over, toru.”

your hair is getting wet but you can’t be bothered to care. the two of you are resting from opposite directions with your heads on the bank. your eyes are trained on the pink hues above but your cognitive of satoru’s warmth and the feeling of his breath fanning against your cheek.

it was nearing a year. a full eight months at your new school and a solid nine of knowing satoru. you were already planning something for your year anniversary.

friends did that, right? it wasn’t weird just because he was a boy.

speaking of boy, it didnt escape your knowledge that he was changing as time passed as well. he still held onto his boyish features but there was something different.

“did i miss your birthday?”

“huh?” the question surprises even him as he tilts his head to look at you.

time has made you better about not getting lost in his eyes, but it doesnt stop you from looking. not even the night sky can dim the ethereal shine.

your shoulder shrugs against him, “you know, when you get a year older? you told me you were sixteen so obviously those add up.”

he blinks,”oh, yeah i’m already seventeen.”

you dont expect the shock to be painful. when you sudden sit up, satoru makes a sound of protest but you ignore it in favor of leaning over him.

“you had a birthday and you didnt tell me?”

“i was here, you werent.”

he said it so matter of factly, as if it didnt pierce your heart with another blade.

you dont notice the tears until the first drop meets his cheek. satoru recoils immediately face pulled in confusion.

“why are you crying? you were at school.”

you knew you were a blubbering mess, snot slinging as you rub the back of your hand against your face uselessly. why was he so indifferent about it? did he not want you to celebrate with him?

“that doesn’t mean that i wouldn’t want to celebrate with you? am i not your friend, toru?”

satoru sits up at your question, rising to a height taller even as you sat side by side. you feel the gravel crumbling away from his palm before the skin of his hand. he doesnt seem to care about the wetness as his hand combs back to tuck away your hair.

“youre my everything.”

it feels like it should be taken more seriously but the moment is cut short when he pulls away, huffing as he rinses his hand off in the water.

“if you want to make it up to me, bring me something you’ve never brought me before.”

and then he smiles and your heart grows three times bigger.

you beg your parents to take you back home to sendai that weekend under the precipice of seeing your old friends.

the next day you bring back kikufuku.

satoru says he’ll forgives you for the next five birthdays.

you can only hope for more.

as summer approaches again, so does your birthday. your parents had conveniently waited until two weeks after before laying out the news of your move. last year you celebrated with old friends, and this year some new.

you still received some gifts from sendai. a plethora of little plushies and memories from the past. your new friendships here offered to throw you a small party, all gathered on your porch as you mother cut the cake.

you leaned into the kiss she life at the crown of your head, thanking her again for all the arrangements.

“i wish your summer friend could have come.”

“i plan to meet them later so it’s okay!”

after seeing your distress about birthdays, satoru had made a note to take them more seriously this time. he didn’t care if you had school, demanding that you come to the grotto before the day ended.

with a laugh you assured him that you were free and would meet at your usual time. it felt selfish to accept all your gifts and still crave whatever satoru had in store for you. much like you offered him, he promised to give you something new as well.

he gave you plenty of things over the past few months, aside from knowledge, an exchange of different shells and things lost at sea. you were growing a nice little collection in your room.

before leaving that evening after seeing off your friends, you took the time to make room on your shelf, prepared to add your new edition when you got home.

a late additional gift from your parents was a reprieve on your curfew, as long as you didn’t push the limits too far.

equipped with the best day ever that was only going to get better, you dashed towards the cave.

satoru had already drug out one of your blankets and spread it out for you.

“had a good day?”

with a giddy grin, you plopped down next to him. “the best!”

he smiles back, hand reaching out to caresses your cheek. you lean into the touch without prompting. there was no doubt that he could feel the light buzz of anticipation under your skin. the sound of his laughter confirmed it.

you bit your lips to try to contain it better as he took his time easing out of the water. you watched as the scales of his tail shimmered as he brought himself to sit next to you. for awhile the two of you just sat there as the sun dipped lower into the horizon.

and then satoru parted his lips.

and sang.

you dont know anything about siren songs or have any hymn books to follow but there was something different about this song. satoru was always hesitant to speak about the songs, not at all interested in delving into the history.

you were starting to wonder if this was why.

there was no longer a sensation of compulsion. the strings that had tugged you to his doorstep all those months ago. this song dipped into your veins and soaked you in everything that was satoru but also a bit of yourself. this wordless song felt like a mixture of you both.

it was both of you.

“toru…”

the song didnt stop as his face neared. his nosed brushed along the curve of your jaw and your head tilts up on instinct. its an invitation that he accepts full heartily as he continues to mouth the sound against the column of your throat.

the warmth under your skin felt as though it was burning when it came in contact with his constrasting temperature.

for the first time, his song was audible. the a single word as his lips brushed against yours.

your name.

the sensation of his chilled lips against yours prompted goosebumps- but the good kind you decided as you leaned in.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo blessings

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taelme · 4 years

Text

Enemies-to-lovers!(demigod)Hyunjin

request: Hey :) I just really want to read something about Hyunjin if that's fine with you. I'm kind of a sucker for this whole enemies to lovers thing too lol but it would also be super cool if it could be something with fantasy. I don't really know 😅 I think if you're going to write it it would be good anyway. genre: enemies-to-lovers!au (kind of, i feel like it wasnt that extreme but more of a dislike-to-lovers lol), demigod!au (fluff, slight angst? its rly not much, a lot of confusion on reader’s part) pairing/s: Hyunjin / Reader (fem) (ft some skz, nct and got7 members!) word count: 18k+ tw: mentions of blood and (sword)fighting a/n: thank you to anon for being so patient again...its really taken me really long to think of something for this haha i kind of wanted to tap on Hyunjin’s like personality a little more for this like the side of him that’s very like in tune with his emotions or whatnot but idk if i emphasised that a lot but thats just a fun fact lol anyway there was a whole lot of thought exposition in this but this was very much a mix of information based off my existing knowledge of greek gods and the percy jackson series but i hope i explained it clearly enough so even if you’re not familiar with it you won’t be too confused while reading!

You wondered if you should’ve been scared when you’d awoken to the sound of your friend Jeongin waltzing into your cabin, the echo of ‘love is a many splendored thing’ coming from his lips as he meandered his way around the much more intimidating daughters of Ares in your room.

“Didn’t know they still allowed you in here,” you huffed, rolling your eyes but not without the small smile playing at your lips as you rolled over, sighing into your pillow and making space for Jeongin to flop belly-down onto your bed.

Ignoring your comment (not without sticking his tongue out at you for good measure), Jeongin’s smile had only grown as he supported his head with his hands.

You huffed, bringing a hand up to rub at your eyes, not being able to find it in you to be annoyed that he’d interrupted your sleep, “are you just gonna smile at me or are you gonna actually tell me what happened?”

Jeongin wrinkled his nose slightly, “guess,” he whispered.

“You...” you frowned, rolling over onto your back, hugging your pillow closer to your head, your eyebrows knitting into a thoughtful frown, “finished your painting?”

Shaking his head, Jeongin hummed, “better.”

“Better?” you echoed, “did you get elected for something... or something?” you yawned, trying your luck at this point, having close to no idea what he was so smiley about.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, though his grin remained, a small giggle leaving him, “give up?”

You nodded, “yeah, give up.”

“Someone’s back in the Poseidon cabin for the summer.”

You figured you might as well milk it while you could, pretending to not know who Jeongin was referring to as you pouted, “Who? Chan?”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, again, “don’t play dumb, you know who i’m talking about.”

You sighed, stretching your arms out above your head, dumping your act of ignorance (acting was never your strong suit anyway), “and what do you expect me to do about that?”

“You don’t have to do anything, technically,” Jeongin shrugged, “he’ll probably approach you first.”

You made a face, not liking Jeongin’s implication at all.

Jaehyun was just a friend you’d made from a few years before. Sure, he was friendly, and Jeongin did always point out the fact that he’d always somehow end up in the same area as the both of you, but you never read into it, having never felt anything romantic towards him at all in your time knowing him. After all, even if you wanted to, the last you heard (if the Aphrodite sisters were to be trusted for gossip) was that he had a girlfriend back home.

“Not funny, Jeongin.”

Jeongin scoffed, “who said I was trying to be funny?” he tried, failing to hold his expression of feigned offence as a bout of giggles escaped him, “okay, fine, maybe I was, but still, you have to admit that you know it’s gonna happen at one point.”

“What’s gonna happen?” you said with a scoff, sitting up in your bed as you let out another yawn.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes at you, “you know what i’m talking about,” he shrugged, making you groan. Trust him to be specific.

Getting out of bed, you brought a hand up to rub your shoulder, rolling your shoulders back with a wince, “I didn’t think he was gonna come back, honestly.”

Jeongin shook his head insistently, “think about it, if he already graduated... he’s probably only back because...” Jeongin gestured towards you, his eyes wide and full of implication.

“Shut up, Jeongin,” you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you in spite of the part of you that was very much averse to his implication.

“Anyway, what are your plans later?” you asked him, eager to divert his attention elsewhere, earning a long hum from him.

You turned to see him fiddling with the corner of your bed sheet, frowning at the faint sound of rock music he could hear coming from the other rooms.

“Haven’t decided,” he sighed deeply, “might go back and finish up my painting... you?” You’d walked around your bed, “probably go and train or something,” you shrugged.

Jeongin made it a point to yawn loudly, “shouldn’t have expected anything else. Why don’t you join me one of these days after the game’s over?”

“Yeah, of course I will, I just wanna get... used to it before the game. It’s been ages since I touched my sword,” you made to pick up your things to freshen up, Jeongin deciding that would be his cue to leave, bidding you goodbye (but not without a smothering hug).

Don’t get you wrong, you were thankful for Jeongin. A son of Hebe, he’d been at the camp longer than you had, and he’d taken the liberty of befriending you after a particularly amusing run-in during a game the previous summer where you’d accidentally torn a hole in his pants with your sword at a pretty unfavourable area.

Not to mention how the boy was one of the few that dared to tread within Ares grounds. Being the son of the goddess of youth, you should’ve figured it was natural for him to be so personable to others (not to mention the fascinating way he looked so youthful), but you were thankful for it nonetheless. Not many people considered it a want to look past the barbed wire and screaming red motifs that seemed to surround the children of the god of war.

Though a part of you wished you could’ve joined Jeongin for a peaceful morning doing art while overlooking the lake, you were a little glad you didn’t, because as you sparred, you remembered just what felt so freeing about being in the field, a sense of anticipation building within you as you thought about the first capture-the-flag game of the summer coming up in a few days.

“Did you hear?” Yuta, another son of Ares, had asked you while the both of you practiced your archery.

You sighed, rolling your neck back before narrowing your eyes at the target again, “hear what?”

“Wait, look, look there, the new Aphrodite kid. Heard he was claimed a few days ago,” Yuta nodding his head towards the direction of the mess hall, and you spotted a small group of boys and girls making their way towards the mess hall.

It wasn’t hard to tell they were Aphrodite’s children, from the way they dressed so elegantly, to the way they carried themselves, as if nothing in the world could shake them or put a single hair out of place.

Something about the effortless nature of it all seemed so unreal to you, especially since you were stood there with your flyaway hair sticking out no matter how much you tried to keep it in place.

“Can’t say I didn’t see it coming, something about him was always more... mesmerising,” Yuta continued, with yourself busy observing the group of them.

“That one? Wasn’t he already here for a while already?” you gestured to one of them who was walking in the middle, rolling the sleeves of their shirt to their elbows with a sheer grace you couldn’t understand, his hair slightly longer than you’d remembered seeing it the previous summer.

Hyunjin was his name, if you remembered what Jeongin said correctly. Who were you kidding, of course you remembered.

The daughters of Ares in your bunk talked about him all the time, even if they didn’t show it. Almost every day you’d hear new things about him, as if it was your daily dose of the news. Something about him being a dancer, or something about a song he was listening to, even what movie he watched recently, none of which you bothered to actually commit to memory like they did.

Widely admired, was the term to describe it. You guessed you could understand why, his looks were pleasing to the eye, but there wasn’t much else you could draw from his personality, so you figured that was it for you. After seeing his sisters, and how... lovely they could be at times, you didn’t think there was much else to figure out.

“No, idiot, the other one walking at the front, he’s basically glowing,” Yuta clicked his tongue in annoyance, and your eyes had landed on the boy, shorter and definitely younger than Hyunjin, but no less beautiful. Looking even closer, you realised he was glowing, unmistakably a very Aphrodite way of claiming him as her son.

You frowned, turning back to Yuta, “that’s a lot prettier than how Ares claimed us, isn’t it?” you laughed, “why are you so interested anyway? It’s not the first time you’re seeing someone get claimed,” you dismissed him, drawing another arrow and firing it at the target, a small smile of satisfaction on your face when it hit the center.

Yuta shrugged, his hand coming up to flick his hair away from his eyes, “dunno, just thought it was cool. Since that means he’ll be on our side for the games too,” he explained, clearly having abandoned his archery practice with the way he’d let his bow hang loose next to his side, swinging it as he stood next to you with a hand on his hip.

“I don’t have very high hopes for that,” you murmured, shooting another arrow at the target, Yuta letting out an impressed low whistle at the thud, “they don’t strike me as the... fighting type.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, “are you done soon? I’m hungry,” he frowned, “and by the way, I'd be careful what I say about Aphrodite’s kids.”

You flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sceptical about his insistence, “what are they gonna do, smolder me to death?”

Yuta rolled his eyes, a scoff leaving him, “well they probably could. Look, if anything, I'm more afraid of their powers than Poseidon’s kids.”

You couldn’t help yourself from the face you made at the mention of the water-wielding demigods, earning a small grunt of amusement from Yuta, only then realising what he could’ve gotten from your expression.

About to interject, Yuta had continued, “I’m guessing you heard Jaehyun’s back?”

You sighed deeply, recalling your conversation with Jeongin that morning, nodding as you made your way back to the Ares cabins with Yuta strolling calmly next to you. Keeping your footsteps brisk, you dumped your armour onto the floor next to your bunk while Yuta did so with his as well, meeting him back at the door and leaving the cabin just as quickly as you came, still having not found an answer to Yuta’s question.

Though as you were busy forming a response to him, you felt yourself getting annoyed, or heavily annoyed for that matter, turning to Yuta with a scowl.

“Stop doing that,” you scolded him, making him raise his hands in a shrug, feigning nonchalance.

“What? You didn’t answer my question,” he defended, making you narrow your eyes at him, relieved when the feelings of anger and annoyance had diffused out of you within a matter of seconds.

“Thank you,” you sighed.

If you had to choose, that was one of your least favourite amongst Ares’ gifts. Sure, being skilled at fighting and the strength you had was a pro, of course. But being able to manipulate someone’s feelings of rage and fear was not something you found very necessary.

Unless you were Yuta, of course, and used it for the sake of getting someone’s attention.

“Why does everyone keep telling me about Jaehyun?” you blurted eventually, making Yuta shoot you a pointed look.

“He’s a legend, it’s basically our duty to talk about him,” Yuta snickered, grabbing your hand to pull you towards the mess hall as if deciding that your speed wasn’t fast enough for him.

“What’s so exciting about him?” you scoffed, letting Yuta lead you to a table where you saw your friends already seated, not missing the way Yuta had shoved you aside with his hip in his attempt to be seated closer to Ten, one of the sons of Aphrodite.

Seeming to have forgotten about Jaehyun, Yuta had focused on his conversation with Ten, leaving you to eat in peace.

“Hey, just came from practice?” you heard Seungmin ask you, taking a seat facing you while you tried to ignore the way Hyunjin had taken a seat next to Ten at the same time, his proximity making it harder for you not to look at him.

Turning to the said son of Athena, you nodded (albeit distractedly), earning a soft smile from him, “same here. Are you excited?”

Assuming he was referring to the games, you offered him a small shrug, “I guess, kind of curious to see how the new Ares kids handle it,” you tried your best to remain nonchalant even though you could hear Yuta asking the newer Aphrodite kid what he liked about being one of Aphrodite’s sons.

Seungmin nodded thoughtfully, “yeah, I saw some of them just now at the arena, but I doubt you’d have to worry, you could take half the Hermes kids on your own,” Seungmin laughed, making you wave him off.

Seungmin had seemed to find Ten and Yuta’s discussion interesting as well, turning his head to listen in as you brought your cup to your lips, frowning as you tried to pick up on what they were talking about.

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your gaze flicker between Ten and Hyunjin, hearing Ten cut in and explain something about acting cute and effortlessly getting people to do what you want them to do, all while you saw Hyunjin turning to ask one of Apollo’s daughters next to him if she had a tissue, the girl seeming almost compelled as she stood up and made her way to the far end of the table to grab a small packet of tissues for Hyunjin.

You had to refrain from scoffing, turning back to Ten with a sweet smile, your tone as lighthearted as it could be, “guess people just do things for you if you’re pretty, right?”

Ten seemed to have no qualms in agreeing with you, nodding at you with a smirk, “exactly.”

Hyunjin heard you of course, not knowing if that was a hint of spitefulness he detected in your tone, and you didn’t miss the way he’d looked up to meet your eyes, something about his gaze almost making it hard for you to look away, but you did. Scanning your attire, Hyunjin couldn’t help the small huff that left his lips.

Daughter of Ares, he should’ve figured abrasive words would’ve come with the package.

Deciding to dismiss it, Hyunjin turned back to Chan who was seated in front of him, rejoining whatever conversation they were having about swimming in the lake with ease. He would just forget about it, it wasn’t like picking a fight with the war god’s child was part of his agenda for the day.

Well, of course, that was until the time came to play capture-the-flag and Hyunjin found himself so unfortunately partnered with you to guard the flag. He should’ve just stayed with his sisters to cheer on the players.

You didn’t try to hide the fact that you were displeased, shooting a wide-eyed look at your Head Counselor Jaebum, who had simply dismissed you with a wave when you’d pulled him aside with a very annoyed glare on your face.

“Why can’t I guard with Yuta? I thought Aphrodite wasn’t playing,” you murmured harshly, fixing your armour roughly as you gripped the handle of your sword tightly, your heart sinking when you saw the way Jaebum had simply smiled, reaching his hand out to shove your helmet onto your head, flicking the red hairs that stuck out from the top with a laugh.

“There’s no time for you to complain, trust me, Hyunjin’s good,” he dismissed your hesitance, waving you off as he began to head elsewhere with the rest, “you’d better guard it properly,” he warned before leaving with the rest, the clinking of their shields against their armour growing softer the further they went.

Grabbing the flag from the floor with a huff, you’d started heading towards the lake, shoving the flag harshly through the pebbles to secure it in the ground, a small huff of annoyance leaving you as you squinted up at the sky, the summer heat annoying you even more.

Not being able to find it in you to relax, especially with the knowledge that Hyunjin was here, you paced around the flag, your hand placed protectively above your scabbard, the other hand on your hip as you eyed your surroundings.

Hyunjin on the other hand, seemed unaffected, and you heard the rustling of the pebbles as he sat down, his sword next to him and his hands behind him supporting his weight. To anyone else, he would’ve looked completely at ease, his head lifted to face the sky, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth.

Though his ease didn’t last for long, the constant crunching of the pebbles and the annoyed scoffs that left your lips every now and then drawing his attention back to you.

Hyunjin never really liked Ares, he momentarily wondered if you were similar in the aspects he disliked as well, since the behaviour you were displaying right now was very...not typical of an Ares.

“Are all Ares demigods as high-strung as you?” Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, “your pacing’s gonna give us away.”

Your head whipped around quickly, scoffing at him, “yeah, well, excuse me for feeling responsible for the flag,” you huffed.

Hyunjin didn’t understand why you took the games so seriously, (frankly you didn’t either), but you both figured it was the streak of Ares in you that made you feel competitive, but nonetheless, Hyunjin wasn’t amused.

“It’s not just your responsibility, you know. Jaebum literally asked me to guard it with you.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh, your words coming out in choppy bursts as if there were a million other things in your head that were fighting to be said, “yeah, well, I guess you could say that’s why i’m even more on edge.”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at you, wanting you to look in his direction but you didn’t seem to be giving him the time of day, your eyes still searching the woods in front of you for any sign of someone else.

“Look,” Hyunjin felt himself growing annoyed, “I don’t know what you have against me but now’s not exactly the time to be angry at me.”

You hadn’t realised, but your agitated state had been unconsciously manipulating Hyunjin’s feelings, making him more annoyed the more he saw you pace.

“Jaebum’s being stupid. He shouldn’t have put you here with me,” you sighed, more to yourself than to Hyunjin.

“You don’t trust me,” Hyunjin murmured, his tone giving away his surprise (or lack thereof), already moving to stand up, dusting the dirt off of his pants as he kept his gaze fixed on you.

You turned to face him, unaffected by his presence unlike the other day, now, Hyunjin noticed your gaze was much firmer.

“Yes, I don’t,” you told him, “forgive me for saying this but, you and your siblings don't necessarily have a very good track record when it comes to combat.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, “yeah, well, ” he mimicked your tone from before, “brute force isn’t the only way you can win, you know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering for a moment what exactly were the gifts that aphrodite had bestowed on her children to warrant such confidence from Hyunjin. You figured he was just trying to divert your attention from the fact that they really weren’t one to fight.

“So, i’m right? You don’t fight?”

You wouldn’t usually have been so... annoying, maybe it was your annoyance at Jaebum making itself known to Hyunjin, and in turn making Hyunjin annoyed at you as well.

Hyunjin took a small step closer to you, holding himself at arms length as he got a good look at your eyes.

Pretty, you thought, but probably not what you should’ve been focusing on at the moment.

And you really shouldn’t have, because you surely hadn’t expected Hyunjin to pull his sword from where it was on the ground abruptly, pointing it right at your throat, the slightest of smiles on his face, almost as if he was curious to see if you’d really lived up to what people said about you.

“I don’t know who you heard that from,” Hyunjin had an amused smirk on his face, something about him wanting to prove himself to you for some reason. The idea of protecting the flag already pushed to the far back of his mind.

You glanced down at the blade before you, pulling it ever so slowly out from its scabbard as you met his gaze again, something about it hardening when you could practically feel him challenging you.

There wasn’t a single sound between the both of you other than the sound of the wind blowing the trees and the lake flowing beside you. Clenching your jaw, you’d brought your sword up to push him out of the way with a grunt, seeing him dodge deftly when you swung it at his arm.

As if you weren’t already angered enough, you were shocked at how well he had been going against you, not paying much attention to what you were doing at this point, casting mindless swings and driving your elbow down on his shoulder, a small grunt leaving Hyunjin.

Swinging his sword at your back, you’d caught it with your sword, pushing back against him with as much force as you could muster, your swords coming in between the both of you, stuck there with the sheer force you were both applying.

Hyunjin had to admit that you were definitely stronger than him, almost giving up but too stubborn to do so, his other hand coming up to grab at your forearm, pushing your sword out of the way before his hand with his sword came up towards you.

Grabbing his hand quick enough, you’d shoved him away from you, bending to avoid another swing before turning, roughly bringing your sword to swing at him, hitting his chest and causing him to stumble back slightly, though what surprised you was how determined he was.

Regaining his stance quickly, as you dropped your shield angrily, he’d swung his sword just as you did, your swords colliding loudly as he brought his other hand to your hand, ripping your sword from your hand quicker than you could process and tossing it aside, his own sword coming to your throat once again, his other grand gripping onto your free hand firmly.

With how focused you were on fighting each other, the both of you hadn’t even realised Jaebum’s presence there, the said head counselor quietly observing you as Hyunjin tried to use his charmspeak on you. Being one of the (very few) children of Aphrodite that had this ability, Jaebum couldn’t help but be curious as to how this would play out.

You contemplated trying to summon your sword back, but as you were about to, he’d spoken up, distracting you.

“Pick up the flag,” he told you, in what you assumed was the most enchanting tone you’d heard from him, moreso with the way he was looking at you.

Hyunjin’s face was mere inches away from you, gripping your wrist even despite the gash you’d made on his palm, too absorbed in his motive to pay any attention to the pain. Something about his gaze had unsettled you, the pleasant smell of his perfume almost seeming out of place with the strong demeanour he was showing you now, making you curious as to what else there was about him that you were getting wrong in your head.

And he waited, he waited for your eyes to glaze over and for you to obediently walk over to the flag and pick it up without a single bit of defiance like how everyone else did. Except you didn’t.

His request had caught you off guard, making you furrow your eyebrows as your lips parted in confusion, “why the hell would I do that?”

Shoving his hand holding his sword away from you, you huffed, turning to see Jaebum and a few of the newer Ares and Athena kids standing there in shock. Well, at least most of them were in shock, Jaebum’s expression was all-too-amused.

Hyunjin stood, dumbfounded at the fact that his power hadn’t worked on you, turning to face Jaebum with his lips in a pout as Jaebum cleared his throat.

Ignoring the annoyed furrow to your brow, Jaebum brought a hand up to rub his exposed arm over his tattoo, “we... won...” he stopped to let a small laugh escape him, “you guys can bring the flag back.”

You huffed, moving to pick up your sword, shoving it into your scabbard, still confused at the fact that Hyunjin had just asked you to pick up the flag for no reason after what he did.

Turning back to Hyunjin, you saw him about to open his mouth, wanting to ask if you were going to take the flag with how he gestured to it.

Shaking your head as you were already making your way back, you said, “take the stupid flag, I don’t want it.”

It was only when you were with the rest in the amphitheatre did you realise Hyunjin had made an impression on you in more ways than just through surprising you.

You were making your way through the crowd to find Jeongin when you’d spotted Jaehyun, his hair messy and slightly damp with perspiration, giving you a friendly smile as he lifted his glass to you.

You saw him making his way over to you, his armour long discarded as he stood in his long sleeved t-shirt and cargo pants, pushing his hair back only to make it even messier.

“Hey, it was a good game just now, where were you?” he asked.

“Oh, I was just guarding the flag.”

Jaehyun nodded, a hum of understanding leaving him. Bringing his cup up to his lips, his gaze darted to your arm, his eyes widening as a sharp hiss left him, “hey, that’s a pretty bad cut, how’d you get that?”

You frowned, your eyebrows raising, a hum of confusion leaving you. Only realising when Jaehyun had reached a hand out to grasp your elbow gently, lifting your arm gently to draw your attention to the gash on your arm, the blood having gotten onto your shirt without you realising.

“Oh,” you hummed, shaking your head in dismissal at Jaehyun, “no it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt. I’ll just get Jeongin to help me patch it up later.”

Jaehyun’s forehead creased slightly as his eyebrows lifted, “really? I can help you with it now, if you want,” he offered, a soft smile on his face.

Turning to look over at where Jeongin and Yuta were seated at one of the steps of the ampitheatre, you tried not to let their knowing smiles fluster you, turning back to Jaehyun with a shake of the head.

“It’s fine, don’t wanna trouble you, but thanks for offering,” you assured him.

“What brings you back?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you, seeing his smile widen, giving you a shrug.

“For fun, honestly. I’m on break at university anyway, so I figured I might as well.”

Your lips parted in realisation, nodding slowly, “your girlfriend didn’t mind you leaving?”

He shook his head, “yeah, she was going back home to visit her family anyway,” you nodded, sighing in relief with the knowledge that he still had a girlfriend so whatever Jeongin said was baseless.

Jaehyun glanced behind you, spotting Yuta and Jeongin sitting at the steps, pressing his lips together so his dimples showed, “shouldn’t keep you any longer, your friends are waiting. See you later,” he had a hand gently on your shoulder, pulling it back to give you a small wave before you’d left to join Yuta and Jeongin at the steps.

“Ouch,” Yuta hissed, eyeing your arm, “who did that?” he nodded his head towards your arm, drawing Jeongin’s attention to the wound.

You huffed, gesturing towards the group of Aphrodite’s children gathered closer to the fire, “Hyunjin,” you offered half-heartedly.

Jeongin’s eyes widened, “Hyunjin? But why? Wasn’t he on your side?”

Yuta’s attention was still searching the group of them, observing the way Hyunjin had a little bit of bandage peeking out from the arm of his sleeveless shirt, a small scratch on his cheek and his palm wrapped with a bandage as well.

“Are you sure it wasn’t someone trying to get the flag?” Jeongin prompted, as if trying to wrack his brain to recall anybody from his side to making it that far over to your side.

“No,” you shook your head, leaning back in your seat with a sigh as you brought your cup to your lips, “just him.”

“What? Why would he do that, though?” Jeongin hummed. You knew he was friends with Hyunjin, so his confusion was catching you even more off guard.

You shook your head, “I’d rather... not talk about it right now,” you sighed, “can you help me with this?” you turned to Jeongin, gesturing to your arm.

You missed the look Jeongin cast Hyunjin’s way, nodding at you as he stood up, probably going to get the first-aid box he kept in his cabin. Yuta cast a brief glance in your direction before letting out a snort.

“I can feel how annoyed you are,” Yuta drawled, jokingly, of course.

You drew your gaze away from Hyunjin, turning to look at Yuta, “I’m not annoyed, ” you murmured, “just... surprised.”

Yuta quirked an eyebrow at you, “pleasantly surprised?” You waved him off, “don’t get too carried away.”

Daring yourself to look back at Hyunjin, you’d surprised yourself when you noticed he was looking in your direction as well, drawing his gaze away with a certain calmness to his gesture that made you almost unable to look away. Something about it still felt so... unsettling to you.

From what you knew, Aphrodite was the goddess of love, of beauty, but what you saw from Hyunjin was a whole other side of that, beauty with a certain kind of strength you weren’t used to witnessing. An almost unassuming kind of strength, something about it only making you more curious about him.

But after your interaction with him today, you weren’t so sure that you wanted to cause more problems for yourself. You figured if you just stayed out of his way, you would probably still be able to ensure yourself a peaceful summer. That was the plan, at least.

===

What you didn’t realise was that camp half-blood was a lot smaller than you thought it was, especially with how often you were running into Hyunjin after that day.

You were on your way to The Forge, since you’d come up with a plan to forge a sword this week, feeling in need of something that suited your own tastes more. In other words, you were bored out of your mind.

However, on your way to the place, you’d bumped into Hyunjin as you were making your way past the mess hall, unconsciously frowning at the sight of him, making him scoff, walking beside you with that same air of elegance he always carried himself with (a contrary to you who was trying to walk faster than him in your own unspoken petty competition).

Hyunjin wasn’t sure why he was entertaining your competition, also trying to walk quicker than you, his hair bouncing lightly atop his head as he walked briskly, making you realise halfway how stupid the both of you probably looked, halting your footsteps halfway to turn to him with narrowed eyes.

“Stop,” you told him firmly, making his eyes widen, his hand raising to point a finger at himself.

“Me?” Hyunjin scoffed, “you started it first.”

You opened your mouth to speak, closing it quickly, curious to why he was heading in the same direction as you, “stop following me.”

Though your question came out in a rather roundabout way, you figured that was the extent your pride allowed you to go to for now.

Hyunjin folded his arms, unsure why you were so proficient at bringing out the petty side of him, “you stop following me, ” he shot back, his height making him look more intimidating despite his expression showing nothing but child-like stubbornness (similarly to yours).

“I’m not, I’m going to The Forge!”

“I’m going to the Stables!” He shot back at the same time as you, as if it were even a competition to answer first.

Hyunjin hummed, so you were going to The Forge.

The information made Hyunjin curious as to what you were planning on making or fixing there, though he didn’t want to pursue it, still upset that the wound you inflicted on his hand made it hard for him to ride the pegasi.

Whereas you had to stop yourself from thinking about what an elegant thing riding pegasi would be, especially if it was Hyunjin doing it.

Pushing the thought to the back of your head, you huffed, leaving him to continue on your way to the Forge, his footsteps behind you barely audible until you’d both parted ways.

And so it continued. You would alternate between joining Jeongin to do some painting or sculpting and working on your sword, yet somehow you would always manage to run into Hyunjin one way or another.

For a moment, you thought this was some sort of punishment from your father for calling him a whiny bitch, warranting Hyunjin’s presence wherever you went.

It was either on your way to the Forge, or even when you would turn while painting to stare at the lake only to spot Hyunjin sitting at the corner of the area sculpting something with clay, it seemed as though wherever you went, misfortune in the form of a certain Aphrodite-born boy would follow.

What irked you the most wasn’t the way he would make even spilling paint look graceful, or the way his contagious laugh would echo loudly around the area, or how his silver ring would clink against the glass water jar distractingly to the beat of whatever song he was listening to as he worked. Instead, it was his response (or lack thereof) whenever you would meet eyes, how he didn’t have the same reaction everyone else did. How instead of looking away he would keep his gaze firm, yet gentle. How he didn’t seem... scared.

Hyunjin knew this too, how everyone tended to stay away from Ares demigods in general due to their tendency to make people feel angry or upset and result in fights between campers, but Hyunjin was curious. He couldn’t help himself. He’d tried his powers on other Ares children before and they worked, so why were you the exception?

He was down at the Lake, his usual spot he would go to whenever he wanted to relax or clear his mind, since no one else really came here in the night, trying to clear his mind of thoughts of you, having been tormented by them for the whole day as he tried his charmspeak on different people just to make sure he wasn’t broken or anything.

Though it seemed even the lake was no exception to you, something in him feeling as though he wasn’t the only one there, and being proven right when he’d lifted his head from looking at his journal, turning to see you sitting not too far from where he was. Except this time you looked a little... different.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure if it was the softness of the moonlight, but something about the way you looked now with your hands supporting your weight behind you as you looked at the water sloshing around in the lake, moving your foot right and left lazily with your hair flowing freely with the wind and a serene expression on your face. Something about it was very different from the picture of a daughter of Ares that he’d painted in his head. If he didn’t know who you were, he would never have guessed your father was the angry, aggressive, battle-driven god among the olympians, finding something about it awfully refreshing.

Hyunjin had averted his gaze quickly, his hand coming up to grasp at his neck, wincing at the pain from turning his head too quickly.

Drumming his fingers on his journal lightly, Hyunjin slid it into the pocket of his jacket, not knowing you’d already seen him when you came here. He’d contemplated on starting a conversation with you, wondering if it was worth the energy since it’d probably just end up in another petty fight between the both of you.

Deciding against it in the end, Hyunjin stood up with a small sigh, his hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair as he trudged through the sandy ground before he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, walking past you when you’d spoken up.

“Didn’t they tell you?” you murmured, a slight teasing lilt to your tone, though it was sleepier than Hyunjin was used to hearing it.

Hyunjin turned his head to face you, his eyebrows raised in question, and a part of you just sighed at how unlucky you were that you had run into Hyunjin here too of all places.

“Tell me what?” he asked.

Hyunjin had a feeling you were about to crack a joke, with the way you tried (and failed) to contain your smile as you turned to look at him, a certain softness to your smile that came with sheer relaxation.

“You can see your reflection in the lake better in the daytime,” you grinned, making Hyunjin scoff, though he couldn’t help his amusement.

He shook his head at you, a forced laugh leaving him, “very funny, but i’m not Narcissus.”

There was a small pause that fell between the both of you, your arms coming up over your head in a stretch, a small yawn leaving you. Hyunjin hadn’t left yet, making you wonder if it was because he was surprised to see you here.

“I didn’t follow you here,” you added, “if that’s what you’re wondering.” You know, just for good measure.

Trust you to be straightforward, he thought.

Hyunjin figured he’d might as well take the opportunity to tease you as well, hoping it would help him regain whatever upper hand he thought he had in the exchange.

“Yeah, sure,” he drawled, turning and walking away before you could see his satisfied smile at your yelp of protest.

===

You were a little more excited than usual today, it’d been two weeks since you’d started forging your sword and today would be when you would be able to take it back and use it, the summer sun having started to set by the time you were done.

You were proud of it, frankly. It may have looked like any other sword, but the way it felt was different, it was less prone to wear during rough use as compared to your previous sword, the blade made to be sharper and sturdier. Not to mention how the handle was a perfect fit for your hand. Though you wished you’d had the power of conjuring up a weapon like some of the other children of Ares did, your powers were rather limited to just summoning your weapons and manipulating their material.

It was as if Ares knew you weren’t the most careful with your things.

You’d spotted one of the sons of Hermes, Minho, making their way into the armory as you were leaving, not bothering to greet him as you crossed paths. You knew who he was very well, and what a reputation he had for pranks in the camp, though you’d fortunately never been at the brunt of any.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were feeling just the slightest bit hesitant, at first, something almost prompting you to bring it back to the Cabin first before you went for dinner but eventually you figured it was fine. It was only for a short period of time anyway. You doubted people would want to steal swords in a place like this.

Meeting your friends at the mess hall for dinner, Jeongin eyed you suspiciously when he’d caught you smiling at your soup for the fifth time that meal.

“Something good happen?” he asked, making you nod eagerly.

“Guess,” you told him, seeing his lower lip jut out in a thoughtful pout, his hand coming up to touch his chin before his eyes had widened, his smile growing.

“Jaehyun—”

“No,” you narrowed your eyes at him in warning, making him burst into giggles, his hand raising in surrender.

“Okay, fine, fine...” he hummed, “oh! You finished your sword?” he asked, earning a nod from you.

“Just finished it this afternoon, it’s in the workshop now but i’m gonna go get it later,” you told him, biting into your food with a satisfied sigh.

Jeongin made a sound of awe, his excitement written all over his features, “can I go with you? I wanna see it.”

You nodded, “yeah sure.”

“Is Yuta coming too?” he asked, earning a shake of the head from you.

“Nope,” you told him, “he’s going over to the Aphrodite cabin for some party,” a small giggle leaving you as you recalled how excited Yuta was to hang out with Ten.

“Aphrodite cabin, huh,” Jeongin snickered, making you nod knowingly.

“I know,” you sighed, bringing your cup to your lips to finish the rest of your drink.

Jeongin tossed his used tissue onto his now-empty tray, “well I’m ready to go, you?” he asked, glancing at you for confirmation.

Giving him a nod, you’d both cleared your trays and made your way out of the mess hall, though as you were on your way out, you couldn’t help but notice the stares you were getting from the other campers as you made your way past the cabins. You’d dismissed their stares quickly, thinking nothing of it until Jeongin had let out a small hum of discomfort.

“Is it just me, or...” he grimaced, clearing his throat, “are they staring?” he asked you, twisting his ring around his index finger.

You nodded, giving him a small shrug as you brushed your flyaway hairs away from your face, the wind blowing it haphazardly around.

“Thought so, but it’s alright, I mean. As far as I know we’re fine ‘cause Jaebum hasn’t summoned us anywhere yet,” you huffed, already nearing the workshop when you’d seen a small group of people gathered there, one being Minho, who was currently crouched over something you couldn’t quite see.

“What’s that?” Jeongin murmured, more to himself than anything.

You watched as Minho had slowly emerged from his crouching position, looking at you with pleading eyes and his hands waving in front of him almost as if in reassurance, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N, I can explain, I’m really sorry I don’t know what happened I was just doing my own thing and I didn’t know that I was actually—”

“What happened?” you cut him off, his rambling only making your anxiousness grow. Looking at him with confusion written all over your features, you hoped dearly that your suspicions would be proved wrong.

Jeongin watched with horror in his wide eyes as Minho had pulled out what looked like your (now cut up) sword.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked back at Minho You were sure your sword wasn’t as hard or brittle enough to have broken like this, you would’ve known, you’d consulted the many sons and daughters of Hephaestus that had come and gone from The Forge while you worked and researched on what would be best for your sword. You were sure they, the sons of a blacksmith of all people, extremely skilled at crafting, wouldn’t have allowed you to make a sword that could get damaged so easily.

“How... did this happen?” you asked him, oblivious to the way the people there were looking on curiously, eager to see if you would live up to the typical Ares tendencies and go into a fit of blind rage.

“I thought this was my sword and I was gonna melt it down to cut it but then I realised too late that it wasn’t mine,” he admitted, his tone sounding too remorseful for you to be more angry at him.

Now that, you could believe.

You looked back at the sword and back at him, not wanting to look at your sword any longer as you inhaled deeply, hearing someone murmur that you looked as though you could kill Minho.

Jeongin heard it too, felt it even, the sheer anticipation from the crowd that you would prove them right that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. They didn’t believe you were capable of controlling your temper, not when all your other siblings couldn’t. And you were glad you realised it, that if you acted on your anger right now, you wouldn’t be doing anything other than perpetuating their image of you as someone that so predictably craved war.

A silence fell between you and Minho, aside from the hushed whispers and murmuring that could be heard from the other campers around you, feeling Jeongin’s hand touch your shoulder gently.

You shook your head, hoping you came across as more reassuring than wanting to kill Minho, a small murmur of an ‘okay’ leaving you before you’d turned away from him, leaving with Jeongin without another word.

Of course, your reaction came to the other campers as a shock, none of them having seen you display such an eerie calmness before. They were sure if the same thing had been done to Yuta, he wouldn’t have held back on showing just how upset he was, but you’d reacted in the least typically Ares way imaginable.

And Hyunjin thought so too.

He had been bored out of his mind waiting for the sons of Dionysus to show up with the drinks, sitting leisurely on the plush sofa in the big living room as he fiddled with his hair, glancing at the door every now and then as he pretended to be interested in whatever gossip his sisters were divulging amongst themselves.

“Did you hear?” one of them tapped on Hyunjin’s arm incessantly, making him turn to them with a bored expression, his fingers touching his ear absently as he prompted them to continue.

“Minho just had a run-in with Y/N,” she told him, her eyes beaming with excitement as though the information she shared was life-or-death, in a very entertainment channel kind of way.

Hyunjin frowned at the mention of your name, already trying to picture how that would’ve gone down, wondering if you’d pummeled Minho and had been the reason behind his absence at the party.

Well, that was until Minho had walked into the Aphrodite cabin looking absolutely unscathed, and Hyunjin decided that maybe he did want to know what happened.

“What happened?” he shifted in his seat, trying to appear nonchalant with his hand supporting the side of his head even despite his bubbling curiosity.

His sister had wasted no time in telling the story, “Minho broke Y/N’s sword because he thought it was his sword, and then when she was going to go get it he told her about it and she looked really angry,” she told him, nodding gravely.

“You were there?” Hyunjin asked, his frown deepening, wondering for a moment what he was doing during that time. Probably lazing on his bed, he figured.

His sister’s mouth had shut quickly, her gaze darting to the ceiling, “well... no, I wasn’t, but that’s what I heard from Ten, who heard it from- okay, nevermind, the important part was that she looked angry, okay?”

Hyunjin knew about Minho’s... penchant for pranks, usually not bothering about them since they were pretty minor. But even he thought this went a little too far. You’d been working on that sword for what... a little more than two weeks? If Hyunjin were in your position, he was sure he would’ve been upset too.

“So... did she like... fight him or something?” he asked his sister, earning a shake of the head from her, which had only surprised him even more.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows raised, “really,” he mustered distractedly, glancing over at Minho who had looked absolutely unaffected, laughing at something Ten had just said.

“She just... left?” Hyunjin asked for confirmation again, not being able to wrap his head around the unpredictability of your reaction. Nothing about you seemed predictable to him, so far.

Maybe your offhand comments, or your skill with weaponry, sure, that was predictable, but even from that day playing capture-the-flag, Hyunjin knew there was something in you that was very much Ares, and very much not.

He wouldn’t have expected such a reaction from someone as strong-willed as you, but then again, as he thought more about it on his way to where Minho was, he thought that maybe he should have expected it. There was something akin to a quiet strength about your reaction, to him.

“Oh, hey,” Minho greeted Hyunjin with a nod in the kitchen as he poured himself another drink, Hyunjin letting out a deep breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

“Why’d you do that to Y/N’s sword?” he’d asked abruptly, shocking himself with the imperative nature of his tone, and Minho didn’t mask his shock either, the boy looking at Hyunjin as if he’d grown another head.

“Look, I don’t usually give a shit about your pranks but... don’t you have to admit that was a little too much?” his tone had calmed down considerably, maintaining his calm exterior as he gave Minho a small shrug.

Minho let out a snort, nodding slowly, “dude... you know I didn’t actually destroy it, right?”

Hyunjin’s lips parted in surprise, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair again, the whole situation proving to be very unnecessary to him. It seemed, whenever it came to you Hyunjin always found himself feeling emotions he wasn’t used to feeling, things like defensiveness, annoyance, though nothing about it was unwelcome to him, strangely. That part, he had yet to figure out fully.

“Then why’d you do it?” Hyunjin wondered out loud.

Minho shrugged, “wanted to see if she was as temperamental as the rest of them. Think about it, she’s never really...lost her temper like the rest of them.”

“Why do you care anyway?” Minho continued, “I didn’t recall anything about you two being friends,” Hyunjin was caught off guard by the implication.

Looking elsewhere, Hyunjin let out a small scoff, “I don’t, okay? I just... felt bad for her,” he tried to reason, “she worked hard on that sword.”

Shrugging, Hyunjin let out another huff of disbelief, removing his jacket with how stuffy it started to feel in the house.

“Whatever, why am I even explaining this to you,” he muttered, “where’d you put the actual sword?”

Minho eyed Hyunjin curiously, shaking his head with a small smile on his face as he gestured outside the house, “it’s still in the workshop.”

Sighing deeply, Hyunjin rolled his eyes at his own expense, giving Minho a firm pat on the shoulder before he left, his mind a swarm of reasons why he shouldn’t have been doing this, even stopping himself in front of The Forge to just be absolutely sure he was going to go out of his way to deliver a sword to someone he wasn’t on the best terms with.

But he did anyway, and that was what ended Hyunjin up holding your sword in its sheath and grimacing non-stop along with his annoyed mumbles on his very hesitant path towards the lake where he figured you would be.

Sure enough, Hyunjin had sighed in relief when he’d spotted you sitting at your usual spot, your knees propped up closer to your chest and your arms folded and resting upon them, your back facing him.

Shaking whatever hesitance there was left in him, Hyunjin cleared his throat, sighing when you hadn’t turned around.

You weren’t in the mood to have another bickering session with Hyunjin, as a matter of fact, already upset enough at the fact that you not only had to make another sword for yourself, but that the other campers probably just viewed you as some sort of ticking time bomb that they couldn’t wait to set off.

About to take another step towards you, you’d sighed, one of your hands going to pick at the hem of your pants, “shouldn’t you be busy shooting love arrows or something?” you huffed.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, freezing in place behind you, “how’d you know it was me?”

You shrugged, not wanting to admit that it was the same pleasant floral scent that brought back your memory of that day playing capture-the-flag that had let you know it was him, the scent being somehow unmistakably Hyunjin that your mind seemed to have automatically associated the two together.

“And again,” he huffed, “just because Aphrodite’s my mom doesn’t mean i’m cupid.”

You hummed patronisingly, “what do you want?”

Hyunjin sighed, making his way in front of you, holding your sword out in front of you, your eyes narrowing at him as you took the sword from him slowly.

“It’s yours,” he murmured, “it wasn’t actually destroyed.”

If Hyunjin had expected to receive an appreciative expression of thanks, maybe he should’ve gone to someone else.

You stood up abruptly, a small gasp leaving you.

“Were you the one behind all of this?” your brows furrowed in annoyance, pointing your sword at him with its sheath still on, making Hyunjin step back slightly.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock, a scoff leaving him despite his hands finding their way beside his head in a gesture of surrender, “why are you getting mad at me? I didn’t do anything, I was just returning this to you,” he defended himself.

Maybe Hyunjin was just unlucky, he thought, if only you would have reacted this way to Minho instead of him.

“How do I know you weren’t the one that planned all of this?” you’d almost moved to jab your sword towards him, Hyunjin having anticipated your move and grabbed your sword by it’s sheath, his other hand coming to your wrist and pushing it away from him, ripping the sword from your grip and holding it over his head.

“Excuse you, I left a party just to go and get this hunk of metal and return it to you,” he narrowed his eyes at you, “and this is how you thank me?”

You frowned, confusion prominent in your features as you dropped your hands to your sides limply, “why would you do that?”

Frankly not knowing the reason either, Hyunjin opened and closed his mouth as he fumbled for an answer, tilting his chin up in defiance when he scoffed eventually.

“Fine, if you don’t want this I can just go throw it in the lake or something—”

You stopped him quickly, a yelp of protest leaving you as your hand found its way around his wrist.

Hyunjin hadn’t missed the pleading look in your eyes that flashed for just a second, his grip around your sword loosening as he let you take it back, slightly amused at the way you’d let out an annoyed huff, holding your sword protectively next to you.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled grumpily, “didn’t know someone that came from the goddess of love could be such a pain in the ass. ”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, something about him finding your expression akin to that of a child as you sulked, not being able to help himself from prodding you further in retaliation.

Taking a step closer to you, Hyunjin licked his lips as he tried to think of a response, taking his lower lip between his teeth and letting it go with a slowness that had only served to heighten the tension of the silence.

“What about you, then? I’m sure you live up to what they say about Ares children craving fights and anger, right?” You couldn’t help but feel as though he were challenging you, as if he wanted you to prove him wrong, a feeling in his gut telling him that you would. He was confident in that, (also because he kind of hoped you would).

You’d met Hyunjin’s gaze, his words seeming to have struck a chord with you, a small pause ensuing before you’d shook your head slowly, averting your gaze from him, your gaze unconsciously flickering to the sky as a brief thought had crossed your mind on whether Ares would be angry at you for saying what you were about to say.

But you didn’t think you really cared.

“I don’t... fight without reason, okay?” you cursed yourself mentally for the way your words came out as a mumble, missing the small hint of a smile playing at Hyunjin’s lips, something making you want to look up at him.

Hyunjin nodded at you, liking the answer you gave him for the first time, “good. Me too.”

You’d met his gaze, finally, the sloshing of the lake behind you and the coolness of the summer night almost drowning out your next words.

“Good,” you murmured, “let’s... not give each other a reason, then.”

Shocking you with his reaction, Hyunjin had nodded, turning away as he tried to stifle his smile, his hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair again, only to have it fall softly back against his head.

“Go,” you murmured, not being able to tolerate the tension any longer, “join back your party.”

Hyunjin quirked an eyebrow at you, though he nodded nonetheless, a strange feeling within him after the interaction you’d just shared.

Leaving without another word, you turned your sword around in your hands, thankful to Hyunjin for doing something like that for you even though you’d been nothing but unfriendly to him recently, figuring that this could have been a peace offering of some sort.

And just for a moment, you thought, maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.

===

And maybe you were right about the whole peace offering thing, since after that day, it was safe to say that Hyunjin and you hadn’t bickered like you did before, tolerating each other’s presence whenever you would both be at the lake at the same time in the night, greeting each other with curt nods when you would walk past each other.

You were having dinner at the mess hall before another game of capture-the-flag that would start at 6 o’clock. Jaehyun had found his way to your table and seated himself next to you, so you were seated in between him and Jeongin, with Chan, Yuta and another son of Ares sitting in front of you.

Hyunjin was seated next to the newer Ares kid, minding his own business as he ate his food, his sisters on his other side talking about the pegasi riding lessons as Hyunjin tried his best to pay attention to the conversation you were having.

You’d been talking about some sort of event the camp was holding in the amphitheatre soon, something like a movie night. In other words, simply an excuse for the older kids to ask for dates to watch a movie with them.

“Are you gonna ask anyone?” Chan had asked Jaehyun, making Jeongin give you a look that was a little too obvious for your liking.

You weren’t able to see Jaehyun’s reaction, since you were seated next to him, not that you cared much about it anyway since you knew it wouldn’t have meant anything.

Choosing to keep your gaze fixed on your food, you prodded at it with your fork as you waited for Jaehyun’s response, almost sighing when he’d cleared his throat, shrugging, “dunno, I guess.”

You missed the way Hyunjin’s gaze wandered from Jaehyun to Jeongin, to you, his mind running wild with possible reasons why Jeongin looked like Jaehyun had just told a joke instead of the response he just gave.

He recalled hearing from his sister the other day that Jaehyun had broken up with his girlfriend from back home, something stirring in him when he’d considered the thought that maybe Jaehyun had his eyes set on you. Not that Hyunjin was in any position to have a problem about it, of course, Jaehyun was free to like whoever he wanted, but something in Hyunjin almost wished for a moment that the feeling in his gut would be wrong for once.

Dismissing the thought quickly, he’d averted his gaze from Jaehyun, focusing on finishing his drink instead.

You looked up briefly to cast a glare at Jeongin, thankful to Yuta who had spoken up, uninterested in the topic of who Jaehyun’s choice of date was.

“Who says we have to bring dates? Why don’t we just go as a group of friends?” Yuta shrugged, Chan letting out a small giggle in response.

“That would be cute, I don’t mind that,” he agreed, Hyunjin nodding in agreement.

“Can I join? I’d rather not let my sisters try to matchmake me again this time,” Hyunjin grimaced, making you unintentionally perk up at the mention of matchmaking, wondering who they had in mind that would be a good fit for him, running through your mental list as you continued to prod at your food.

“Oh yeah, cause you guys are like children of cupid or something, right?” the boy snickered, something about his tone striking a nerve with you.

Did he really think a god as unpredictable and destructive as Ares was any better?

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, “Aphrodite,” you quipped sternly, “it’s not that hard to remember.”

Jeongin had to stifle his laughter, and you continued to prod at your food, missing the small smile on Hyunjin’s face when you went back to eating as if you didn’t just say what you said.

The boy had immediately quietened down, afraid that he would warrant another chiding from you if he made another mistake, Jaehyun nudging you with an amused smile on his face.

“Go easy on the kid, he’s not familiar with how it works here yet.”

You huffed, unsure why you had felt so defensive over it as well. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t teased Hyunjin about it before. But maybe that was what irked you about the boy’s statement, how his tone sounded mocking almost, as if it wasn’t something to be proud of to be born from Aphrodite.

Sighing, you’d stood up, ready to get ready for the capture-the-flag game, turning to Jaehyun and scrunching your nose in distaste, “he’s gotta learn at some point.”

The sun was already beginning to set when you’d started the game, the sky growing darker the more the both of you made your way through the forest, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could as Hyunjin walked with you.

Hyunjin and yourself had been on a separate path to find the other team’s flag, the both of you having been split up from the rest after being bombarded with a group of Hermes’ children.

“Should we go that way?” Hyunjin asked, pointing in the direction of the lake, making you shake your head.

“No, they probably have a bunch of Poseidon’s kids standing by there, and I don’t know about you, but I really don’t wanna end up fighting Chan.”

Hyunjin let out a small huff, halfway to a giggle, a small pause ensuing as you stepped over a branch, turning to gesture to the branch as a warning to Hyunjin, hearing him murmur a small thanks to you. Something between the both of you felt more comfortable now, less hostile definitely, but something about it still felt tense, you just couldn’t exactly place the cause of the tension.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hyunjin asked, pulling you from your thoughts, his voice soft but loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, “what?” you prompted, turning when you’d felt a movement, relaxing when you realised it was just a dove.

“You’re not very fond of your dad, are you?” he asked, making you inhale deeply, huffing through your nose.

You turned to him with a sceptical look on your face, “are you? ” you scoffed.

“So, i’ll take that as a no?”

You paused, giving him a small nod.

Hyunjin hummed softly, reaching a hand up to push the overhanging leaf out of the way before it could hit your head without you realising.

“Can I ask why?” he hummed, his footsteps delicately treading on the ground softly in contrast with you who were simply walking normally.

You shrugged, “guess it never really felt like I fit into the ideals he wants in his children? You know? Like all that... destruction and aggression without reason, it just didn’t feel right to me,” you shrugged.

Hyunjin hummed, as if prompting you to continue, slightly distracted when he contemplated if he should offer his helmet to you since you didn’t have one.

“It felt kind of weird, to be honest, when he claimed me,” you shared, thankful that Hyunjin made you feel as though you could share these things with him without being attacked for not respecting your father. “It kind of felt like it was wrong.”

Hyunjin let out a small giggle at that, a small sound of disagreement leaving him, “I wouldn’t say totally wrong,” he offered, making your eyebrows raise in question, curious to hear what he had to say.

“You know, you’re strong-willed, passionate about what you want, good at combat,” he told you, making you huff in your attempt to suppress the strange feeling within you at Hyunjin’s words. Hyunjin himself felt as though such words were foreign to him, or maybe it was the intention behind the words. He wasn’t sure.

“Thanks,” you murmured softly, the way your voice had come out as a mere squeak making you scrunch your nose up in distaste.

“What about you?” you asked, hearing a confused hum leave him.

“Am I fond of my mom?”

You turned to nod at him, seeing him shrug, “yeah, I guess. I guess the only downside I can think of is how we’re not the most... skilled at combat.”

You didn’t see it, but Hyunjin had to stop himself from letting his smile grow too big, especially because he knew his words had struck a chord with you.

Your breath hitched, feeling almost guilty hearing his words, not being able to help yourself from turning to him, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the path you were on.

“Sorry,” you told him, seeing him tilt his head at you, an expectant smirk on his face.

“For what?”

You shrugged, averting your gaze as you knocked your shield against his gently, embarrassment taking over you at the awkward gesture, “you know, for... underestimating you.”

Daring yourself to meet his gaze, you were surprised to say the least, when he’d simply smiled at you, his tongue moving to graze over his canine, “apology accepted.”

About to move forward, Hyunjin had stopped you abruptly, his hand on your wrist with urgency in the gesture, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Jaehyun.”

You wrinkled your nose in dismay, shaking your head, “probably means we’re near.”

You heard footsteps growing louder, not having expected Jaehyun to be alone, but you should’ve known he wasn’t, especially when you’d heard footsteps behind you, spotting Chan with Jaehyun, and the flag not far behind them.

“I’ll take Chan,” Hyunjin told you quicker than you could react, already wielding his sword as he proceeded to duel with Chan, while Jaehyun made his way slowly over to you, gripping his trident (a gift from Poseidon himself, he was very proud to inform whoever ) and using it to smack against the ground with small thuds as he grew closer.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he gave you a grin, his dimples showing cutely.

You rolled your eyes, not being able to stop yourself from smiling.

“Yeah, Jaebum didn’t put me on flag duty today, but I see you didn’t get so lucky?” you murmured, already pulling your sword out, the sound of Hyunjin and Chan fighting behind you making you wonder just where everyone else was, having expected them to reach the flag before you and Hyunjin could.

Jaehyun scoffed, “hey, I love flag duty.”

Already going into your ready stance, you wanted to laugh when Jaehyun had done so as well, not being able to take him very seriously from knowing him for so long.

And so you swung your sword, managing to nick him on the arm before your sword collided with his trident, though you tried to ignore the intimidating sharpness of its prongs as you continued to try your best, to dodge his swings and use your difference in size to your advantage. It was a blur to you, the whole process, like it usually was.

You figured it was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, where you would get lost in the fighting that you wouldn’t even have time to think before you acted, your body seeming to move naturally with its one goal of getting your opponent out of the way.

Maybe you’d thank Ares for that detail.

After you realised Hyunjin had stopped fighting Chan, you’d let yourself get distracted by wondering how he’d managed to get Chan to give up so easily, giving Jaehyun the opportunity to deliver a particularly strong blow to your shoulder.

Stumbling back, your back hitting the tree behind you as Jaehyun brought his trident up, your hand grasping the spear tightly as you tried to pull it away from your neck, though Jaehyun had an advantage with his stance, holding it against your neck and caging you in place, the tip of one of the pointed ends nicking you just below your jaw when you’d moved particularly abruptly.

Hyunjin had noticed of course, but after he’d managed to get Chan to leave with his Charmspeak, you realised he was free to go get the flag.

So when you saw him coming behind Jaehyun, you used your hand to gesture to the flag, Hyunjin thankfully having gotten the hint and making a break towards the flag, more people having gathered as Jaehyun had let go of you finally, watching with a smile as Hyunjin had claimed the flag, looking at you with a dazed smile on his face.

Jaehyun helped you up from where you leaned against the tree, “he’s pretty good, isn’t he?” you heard him say.

“Who?” you frowned.

Jaehyun nodded his head towards Hyunjin, who was gracefully accepting the praise from the other campers as he made his way towards where you were.

You huffed, nodding, “yeah,” you murmured, “sure is.”

You were too tired to join for the celebration after the game, finding your way back to the Lake. (With how much you went there, people would have thought you were a daughter of Poseidon if not for the red motifs on your attire).

Having asked Jeongin if you could meet him later on after you showered for him to help you clean up your cuts like you would both usually do, you heard soft footsteps behind you, sighing in relief that Jeongin was finally here.

Only when the smell of that distinct flowery scent had grown stronger did you realise that was definitely not Jeongin, your suspicions proven when you saw Hyunjin seat himself down next to you, his hair wet and in a new change of clothes, having freshened up as well, glancing down to see a first-aid box in his hands.

But not any first-aid box, you realised, when you spotted the little stickers on the side of the opening, Jeongin’s first-aid box.

“Hope you don’t mind, Jeongin said he had to get something done,” Hyunjin’s hands came up to pull the neck of his white shirt higher, his bracelet sliding down on his arm, “may I?” he asked, your mouth still sealed shut in your uncertainty on how to respond.

You nodded belatedly, seeing him already taking out some antiseptic cream from the box with a small cotton bud, “oh, uh, no yeah, that’s fine.”

You took the liberty of taking an ice pack from Jeongin’s box, pressing it against the area where your neck met your shoulder, sighing softly, and maybe even cursing Jaehyun in your head for practically ramming your back into that tree just now.

“I didn’t know you were still injured,” Hyunjin murmured, looking at your neck and then back down at his hands, “thought you would’ve just asked Jaehyun to heal you or something.” His voice came out in mumbles as he concentrated on getting the tube open.

Hyunjin figured with how comfortable you looked around Jaehyun that you wouldn’t have hesitated to accept his help, especially since no one liked to live with their injuries if they could help it, but Hyunjin had to dismiss the thought quickly when he started to think about how closeby the Lake was to the Poseidon cabin, wondering if that was the reason behind your constant presence here.

Pursing your lips, you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you, “I don’t really wanna do that unless it’s super serious,” you began.

Hyunjin hummed, “sorry can you like, look there a little?” he gestured to your right, making you turn to your right, side-eyeing Hyunjin at the little giggle that left him.

“No, like,” you’d tensed up when you felt his hand reach forward to tilt your chin up gently, exposing your cut better to him, wincing slightly when the cotton bud had touched your cut.

“You were saying?” Hyunjin prompted you, making you hum in confusion before realising he was referring to the whole healing thing.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess when you’re a demigod and even things like healing can be done just like that, everything can become really... instantaneous,” you explained, “guess it’s nice to have slow moments like these that kind of feel more like, normal and stuff,” your laughter came out in a small burst, feeling strangely embarrassed to be telling Hyunjin something that felt so stupid when it came out of your mouth.

“Scarring?” Hyunjin laughed, making you shoot him a pointed look, “I'm kidding. I get it.” he smiled, not knowing what came over him to decide to continue, “besides, if Jaehyun healed you, I wouldn’t get to be here right now,” he huffed.

You turned to him, trying to decipher what he meant by that yet at the same time feeling as if you knew, Hyunjin’s gaze fixed on your neck as he placed a small bandage over your cut there, his fingers grazing over the skin there in a way that made you freeze in place, something about his movements and gestures feeling as though they were balancing on the line between intentional and unintentional.

Hyunjin’s gaze shifted to your eyes, offering you a small (and slightly belated smile) before his gaze fell to your forearm, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw the wound, grimacing.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve let you fight Chan instead of Jaehyun,” he laughed, beginning to apply the cream with gentle touches to your arm, his neck craned over your arm, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that made you want to reach your hand out and run your hands through it to push it back, shocking yourself at your thought.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you assured him, making him shake his head.

“Kind of think it would’ve been more for myself than for you,” he huffed, once again confusing you with the implication behind his words.

Pulling out a medium-sized dressing for your wound, he’d pressed it against your wound, securing it before his hands returned to his lap, Hyunjin almost forgetting himself for a moment with the tension he was feeling.

“All done,” he gave you a small smile, his shoulders relaxing as a barely-audible sigh left his lips, about to put the supplies back into the first-aid box when you’d stopped him, not knowing why your body seemed to be moving against your rational thought.

Your other hand came up to take the box from his hands slowly, shaking your head at him, “you’re injured too,” you pointed out, seeing his eyes widen and his lips part, a small scoff leaving him.

“It’s nothing,” he assured you, though his tone didn’t sound very convincing, a part of him simply refusing for the sake of refusing, “you don’t have to,” he tried again, knowing once again that his charmspeak didn’t work when you’d shook your head insistently.

“It’s something,” you dismissed him, though a small smile found its way onto your face as Hyunjin had wordlessly tugged the sleeve of his shirt up to expose the cut on his arm to you.

Hyunjin had to admit being in such close proximity to you was definitely making him more tense than he was used to being, especially more so now that he knew he couldn’t depend on his abilities to make himself seem more likeable to you. Though Hyunjin would argue that it was refreshing, since sometimes he found that he would say things offhandedly and end up using his abilities on accident, but he couldn’t lie that it made him very, very nervous.

“You came out pretty unharmed,” you murmured with an impressed hint to your tone, “considering you went against Chan.”

Hyunjin shrugged, flushing slightly, masking his shyness with an exaggerated yelp when you’d touched the cotton bud to his wound, flinching back and making you laugh.

“Don’t be dramatic, you were fine when I did it the first time,” you scoffed, seeing him calm down from his act but the smile had lingered on his face nonetheless.

“Yeah, well... I was just lucky he didn’t have a trident too.”

Hyunjin pressed his lips together in a firm line, not having noticed whatever you were doing to his arm because he was too busy looking at your face.

You couldn’t pay too much attention to it, continuing to ramble to take your mind off of how much Hyunjin’s presence made you nervous, especially with the way you could feel him looking at you.

“How did you do that, by the way?” you asked, remembering how you’d seen Chan walk away from Hyunjin halfway when they were fighting, something about the image having popped into your head when you were treating his cut.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, “do what?”

You touched the skin above his cut on accident, seeing him flinch back slightly, “sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, “I mean, you know, he just suddenly... left halfway, like he just stopped fighting you.”

Hyunjin’s lips parted in realisation, a hum of understanding leaving him, “it was uh... my charmspeak.”

The frown on your face must’ve adequately expressed your confusion, since Hyunjin continued.

“I guess you could say it’s one of the gifts from Aphrodite? That I can sort of like... hypnotize someone into doing what I want them to do.”

Your eyes widened, not having realised Hyunjin was capable of such a thing, starting to understand why Yuta had mentioned fearing their powers more than those of Poseidon’s children.

“That’s... cool,” you hummed, “I was surprised you even used it, you know, considering you were already taking him on pretty well even without the uh... hypno powers,” you waved your hands in front of your eyes for emphasis, making him wrinkle his nose, not seeming to be very convinced.

You scoffed at how modest he was being, shaking your head, “no, seriously. Jaehyun said so too,” you told him, “you’re a good fighter.”

Hyunjin pursed his lips, hoping the moonlight wouldn’t give away the heat creeping up on his cheeks, unsure why he was so flattered by your comment, especially since it wasn’t the first time he was hearing it. Maybe since it was his first time hearing you, of all people, saying it.

“Thanks,” he murmured, a small smile playing at his lips.

“You know, since Aphrodite doesn’t usually play in the war games,” you continued, “I have to admit it was kind of... nice,” you glanced at him briefly for a reaction, the slight quirk in his eyebrow making you rush to continue, “you know, not saying it was nice to fight you but like....nice to fight with you.”

“Thanks,” he murmured finally, making your shoulders relax unconsciously in your relief, “I uh, thought it was nice too.”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, taking a bandage from the first aid box and scooting closer to Hyunjin just slightly, wrapping the bandage around his arm carefully, Hyunjin’s other hand on his lap as he observed your movements carefully.

You thought about how you would’ve never expected yourself to be so comfortable with Hyunjin, figuring one thing that helped you get to this point was since you’d been spending majority of the summer around each other, thinking back to how you felt like your dislike towards him had started to dissipate after that day he’d returned you his sword. A part of you did still feel bad for not thanking him properly for that.

“Thanks, by the way,” you mumbled, “for that day, when you helped me get back my sword.”

You weren’t sure why you were feeling so drawn to him. You were supposed to be strong for crying out loud. Everything about your interactions with him had just felt so new t o you, and they did to him too (though he was better at hiding it than you were). You couldn’t understand why all Hyunjin had to do was just sit there and that was all it took to make you anxious and too nervous to look him in the eyes.

But finally, you’d mustered whatever courage you had within you to do just that, after you were done wrapping his wound up, watching silently as he brought his sleeve back down, refraining from reaching over to grasp your hand before you could withdraw it. Though once you’d met his gaze, you’d felt trapped, almost, something in you not being able to look away.

“You’re welcome,” he told you, his tone gentle and melodic, something so him that you couldn’t find a better response but to nod.

You saw his gaze flicker to your lips just briefly before looking back at your eyes, making you unknowingly do so as well, the silence between the both of you feeling almost suffocating and making you tap-out first.

Turning away quickly, you’d picked the first-aid box off of the floor, pretending to be interested in closing it as Hyunjin regained his composure, standing up and dusting off the dirt on his pants.

Hyunjin debated on helping you up, wondering if you would accept his hand if he were to offer it, his mental back-and-forth making him lose the opportunity quickly when you’d simply stood up on your own, dusting the dirt from your pants. Hyunjin pressing his lips together in a firm line to hide his disappointment at himself.

“I’ll uh... walk you back to your cabin?” he asked, earning a small nod from you.

You could still hear people nearby in the amphitheatre celebrating, thankful that they were either too drunk or too caught up in their conversations to notice you and Hyunjin walking towards the Ares cabins.

Once you’d reached, you turned to Hyunjin, giving him a small smile, and he wondered how you could look so out of place standing in front of the deep red cabin in front of him with its barbed wire perimeter and the intimidating Ares brothers that were eyeing Hyunjin suspiciously from the window, yet somehow managing to look right at home. And he was growing to like that.

“What?” you asked, a slight furrow in your brow when Hyunjin had let his gaze linger a little too long without saying anything.

Hyunjin gave you a soft smile, shaking his head as he tucked his hands into his pockets, “nothing. Bye.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the smile from your face as well, nodding slowly, “bye.”

===

Things between you and Hyunjin after that day were... different to say the least. It’d almost been an unspoken thing for the both of you to meet at the Lake in the evening and talk about whatever it was that was in your minds before he would walk you back to the cabin.

Jaebum loved to situate himself at the front porch to ‘read’ whenever it would be time for you to come back, his knowing smile always serving to unnerve you.

Hyunjin was a good friend, you came to realise. Talking to him was different, different from talking to your Ares brothers who were so insistent on putting up a tough front all the time, (aside from those days Yuta would show up in your room wanting to watch a sad movie), or talking to Jeongin because your conversations would usually revolve around mindless things or become all too philosophical to be discussed while sober.

But Hyunjin, talking to him felt balanced, in a sense. Something about how his personality brought out a side of you that you never really paid much attention to, the part that freely loved things and appreciated the nowness of things without always anticipating what was about to happen next or what you had to prepare for. How just being at the lake with him had made your nights feel longer and allowed you to relish in it, not having to be caught up with the activities of the day when you were there with him.

You figured another reason could be because talking with him didn’t feel like he was just waiting for his turn to speak or give his opinion, it was very clear to you whenever he had those days where he’d simply wanted to listen to what was weighing on your mind and help you through that, without you having to ask him first.

And maybe it was that which warmed your heart, because as the days passed, you felt yourself starting to see Hyunjin differently. How you would find yourself looking out for him without even realising, getting the feeling of wanting to make him happy, or observing little details about him that you wouldn’t have bothered to notice about Yuta or Jeongin.

It was one particular day at the mess hall that made you realise just how in trouble you were.

You were all back on that dreaded conversation topic of the movie night, hearing that someone had tried asking Jaehyun to go with them but getting turned down instead, the information seeming to stir childish scandal amongst your friends as they all tried to tease information out of Jaehyun as to why this was so.

“C’mon, why’d you say no? It’s not as if you were gonna ask someone else, right?” Chan laughed, Hyunjin perking up when Jaehyun had laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah? Says who? What if I wanted to ask Y/N?” Jaehyun gestured to you, bringing his drink to his lips nonchalantly.

You knew he was just using you as an example, but Hyunjin didn’t.

Looking at you with his eyes wide in surprise, his gaze flickered between you and Jaehyun as he tried to make sense of what was happening, something in him almost deflating at the thought that Jaehyun could have been interested in you.

You couldn’t help but glance at Hyunjin in a small panic, hoping he wouldn’t misread what Jaehyun said. Why were you even worried about what he would think?

As calmly as you could, you let out a small scoff, “forget it, I wouldn’t go with you even if you asked,” you stuck your tongue out at Jaehyun, Hyunjin not knowing whether to take it as a joke or not, but he didn’t have much time to think about it before Chan had turned to him.

“Didn’t someone ask you too?” Chan asked, having recalled seeing one of the daughters of Poseidon approaching Hyunjin the day before when he was conducting a pegasi riding lesson at the stables.

You looked at Hyunjin with evident surprise in your features, since he’d definitely excluded that little detail when he told you about his day the previous evening, surprising yourself even further when you’d pictured the scene in your head, wondering how he would’ve reacted.

Hyunjin cast you a brief glance, meeting your eyes and averting his gaze just as quickly to fixate it on Chan, nodding with as casual a shrug as he could muster, “yeah,” he answered simply.

You couldn’t help yourself, “and?” you blurted before you could stop yourself, catching Hyunjin off guard with the expectancy of your tone.

Jeongin eyed you suspiciously, though it went ignored by you as you focused on waiting for Hyunjin’s answer, watching as he let go of the tissue he was holding in his hands, bringing his drink up to his lips, almost raising his hands in surrender (but thankfully not doing so).

“Said no,” he shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink, eyeing you for a reaction over the rim of his cup.

You nodded slowly, a short hum of understanding leaving you as you turned back to Jeongin, making eye contact with the boy who was looking at you with a look that said he definitely was going to ask you about this later.

And he did, soon enough.

Lying on your bed on his back, Jeongin was busy pulling his knee to his chest in his attempt to do some ‘yoga in bed’ that he’d come across online.

“What’s up with you and Hyunjin?”

“What do you mean, ‘whats up with me and Hyunjin’?” you huffed, hoping he wouldn’t read into your flustered expression as you turned away from him, concentrating on folding your freshly done laundry.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, letting go of his leg before pulling the other one towards his chest with a small grunt, “I mean, what’s going on with you and Hyunjin?” he said again, making sure to enunciate his words pointedly.

You shrugged, “nothing, we’re friends,” you told him plainly (though not plain enough to please Jeongin), “that’s what’s going on.”

Straightening his leg, Jeongin lowered it down, stretching his hands over his head with a yawn, “then what was with your face when Chan said someone asked him out?”

You let out a high-pitched hum, making a wrong fold on your shirt, “well aren’t you an observant little thing,” you cooed, re-doing the fold.

“Don’t avoid the question,” Jeongin laughed, straightening up in his seat and looking at you with wide eyes, “why are you being so weird about it?”

You sighed, bunching up your shirt in your hands as you looked at him, “I don’t know what it is, okay? It’s just that... these days whenever i’m with him I keep thinking about how nice he looks or how good his stupid flower perfume smells or how he just, I don’t know, chooses his words so well,” you frowned.

“It’s weird, like, even I think it’s weird, because I don’t usually pay attention to things like that, but suddenly when it comes to him—” you inhaled deeply, stopping yourself short as you looked at Jeongin in desperation. “If it’s not some kind of magic, I don’t know what to make of it.”

Jeongin snorted, giving you a shrug.

“I’d love to just say you’re losing it, but I heard Aphrodite kids have a reputation for that, you know?”

You frowned, standing up to make your way towards where he was, “for what?” You slumped down on your bed next to him with your arms stretched out above you, rolling over until your shoulder was against his hip, a tired sigh leaving you.

“You know, the whole like... love voodoo shit,” Jeongin prompted, your confused expression making him groan, “it’s like what you guys can do with anger and fear but they do it with pleasant feelings instead.”

Your frown deepened, not having realised Hyunjin was capable of doing something like that.

“I thought it was only the charmspeak?” you frowned, seeing Jeongin roll his eyes.

“You say it as if Ares only gave you guys one ability.”

You snorted, “wouldn’t have put it past him,” you shifted your body to support your head with your hand, “has it happened before?”

Jeongin hummed, nodding matter-of-factly, “yeah, duh. ”

“Then, do you think that’s what’s happening to me?” you wondered out loud, bringing your legs up to hug your knees to your chest with a sigh, trying to wrack your brain for reasons why Hyunjin would manipulate your feelings like that. Did he not trust you?

Giving you a shrug, Jeongin laid back on his back, “dunno, maybe you can test it out or something. See if what you’re feeling is heightened when you’re talking to him, you know?”

You hummed, nodding slowly. You still didn’t know what would compel Hyunjin to do something like that, wondering if you weren’t on as good terms as you thought you were, deciding that for now, observing him was your best bet to figuring out just exactly what he wanted from you.

Hyunjin was stressing himself out too, but not quite over the same reasons that you were.

While you were trying to come to terms with the fact that you were finding him a little too pleasant to be normal, Hyunjin had been trying to come to terms with the fact that Jaehyun probably found you as pleasant as he did (or something along those lines).

He’d already passed the point of figuring out whether or not he liked you. He knew that for sure.

Whether it was because he was more in tune with his feelings of love or just him tending to trust his feelings more, he didn’t really pinpoint a specific cause. All he knew was that he had found himself completely enamoured with you, drawn to you in ways that made him question if his mother had a hand in this.

What he was more concerned with now, was coming to terms with the fact that you may not have felt the same way.

It was in the small things, like how he would let himself read into the looks or the inside jokes that Jaehyun shared, or how he couldn’t help but feel as though you would feel more comfortable with Jaehyun judging from your conversations and how naturally they flowed. Not that his conversations with you didn’t feel natural as well, Hyunjin just couldn’t help but worry.

And this was new to him, these feelings of heightened worry or anxiousness that somehow you managed to bring out in him, though Hyunjin had to say that it wasn’t that bad, because with the anxiousness, he realised just how much he liked you. But nonetheless, as previously said, he really couldn’t help but worry.

Even now (or especially now), as Hyunjin was seated behind you in the amphitheater during the movie night, watching some sort of pirated romantic movie that, if anything, only made him more anxious about you, he couldn’t help the glances he would steal at Jaehyun every now and then. As if by some unlucky stroke of fate, he would always seem to turn to look at you at a part where Jaehyun would be whispering something that would elicit a laugh from you, something about the feeling of helplessness mixed with just a tinge of jealousy making Hyunjin’s stomach churn.

But what Hyunjin didn’t know was that you weren’t actually as amused as he thought you were.

What he didn’t see, past the giggling and inside jokes, was that your leg was bouncing incessantly in your seat, how your eyes were dead fixed on the movie playing but not being able to focus on anything other than the fact that even the way the male lead dressed had reminded you of Hyunjin.

You were trying your best, to ignore the sounds of agreement or giggles that would leave Hyunjin whenever Yuta would hum about the beauty of the leads, or the way Hyunjin would lean forward every so often to ask for another handful of popcorn. And he wouldn’t just ask, he would make sure his lips were barely centimeters away from your ear and that his voice was as enchanting as it was in the forest during your first encounter with him.

And then the scent of his perfume would flood your senses and your mind would be practically yelling at you that all you had to do was just turn ever so slightly and your face would be right in front of his.

But the keyword was trying.

You couldn’t ignore it, with every instance, you were growing increasingly convinced that this was just Hyunjin’s way of messing with you and manipulating your feelings for reasons unbeknownst to you.

And as time passed, you were getting tired of feeling so strongly towards him when you frankly couldn’t do anything about it (it wasn’t as if you could just turn around and kiss him now, that would be too much implication and too little reasonable explanation on your part).

But your tipping point was a particularly tense scene in the movie when the lead couple had shared a moment, looking into each other's eyes and the male lead saying something stupid that you couldn’t bring yourself to remember, before sharing a deep kiss.

And of all moments, Hyunjin had chosen that moment to lean forward for what you felt was the thousandth time, “Y/N,” he whispered, “can I have the—”

You shoved the popcorn box behind you into his hands, a deep sigh leaving you, “here. Take it.”

Jeongin shared a look with Hyunjin, the younger boy’s hand coming up to stifle his smile when you stood up abruptly, deciding that what would do you good right now is some fresh air, or just... air where you could focus on anything other than Hyunjin.

Your sudden decision had caught Hyunjin off guard, frowning at you in confusion when you declared that you ‘needed some air’, stalking off in what Hyunjin assumed was the direction of the lake.

Turning to Jeongin, Hyunjin was about to speak when Jeongin had beat him to it, a definitive ‘yes’ leaving him.

Yuta let out a chuckle when Hyunjin had only looked more confused.

“‘Yes’ what?”

Jaehyun turned to cast a knowing smile towards Hyunjin, making him even more confused to begin to process it.

“I’m guessing you wanted to ask where Y/N was going, but then I think you already know the answer to that,” Yuta pressed his lips together in a poor attempt to contain his smile.

“So, the next question would be whether to go after her, and my answer is yes,” Jeongin finished simply, Hyunjin’s lips parting and closing.

Scoffing, Hyunjin shook his head, “who said I was gonna ask about her?” he folded his arms, even though he had already begun to stand up, making Jeongin giggle.

Jeongin brought his hand up to shove Hyunjin out of the way, “dude, just go. You’re gonna make me miss the rest of this movie.”

===

You were sitting down closer to the water, thankful for the sound of the rushing water that managed to soothe you, running your fingers through your hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame it from being blown about by the breeze, giving up at one point and simply huffing, staring at the rocks as though it would give you an answer to why you were so riled up.

But what irked you even more was that even here, you seemed to be so wrapped up in your thoughts of Hyunjin that you swore you could smell that same flowery scent even here. Cursing him mentally that whatever love voodoo he was doing was strong enough to make you think of him even when you were trying everything in your power not to.

Well, that was until you heard someone clear their throat gently behind you, a soft, “hey,” leaving them.

So the flowery scent was real.

You huffed in annoyance, “whatever you’re doing, you have to stop it now.”

Hyunjin frowned, making his way closer to you, “I’m not doing anything,” he told you, standing in front of you now, crouching into a squat so he could be at eye-level with you.

“Don’t play dumb, just undo it,” you tried again, not understanding how even when you wanted to be annoyed at him now, you couldn’t help but find the confusion on his face more than just a little endearing, your gaze softening for just a brief moment when you caught a good look at his face.

Hyunjin shook his head, his hands coming up beside his head in surrender, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, making you groan.

“Jeongin told me, okay? That you and the other Aphrodite children can manipulate feelings of love, I need you to stop making me feel like this,” you told him plainly, your eyes searching his face in desperation hoping that he would at least take pity on you and stop playing dumb.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, his forehead creasing slightly when he frowned, “that’s... not possible.”

You scoffed, seeing him rest one of his knees on the ground to balance himself, “what do you mean it’s ‘not possible’? Of course it’s possible, if you can do it, you can undo it, right?”

Hyunjin wanted to laugh, a small exasperated scoff leaving him, unsure what to make of this entire situation, “I mean,” he struggled to contain his amusement, having passed the point of exasperation, “it’s not possible because it doesn’t work on you.”

Your frown had deepened, your lower lip unknowingly forming a pout as your eyes searched his expression for any sign that he may have been joking.

“Doesn’t work?” you panicked, unsure what to make of his words, “That doesn’t make sense, what do you mean it doesn’t work? How can it not work?” your lips parted in confusion, Hyunjin getting tired of squatting and sitting before you instead.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head, “I’m just as confused as you, okay? I really don’t know, maybe Ares gave you a thick skull too,” he raised his hands in defence, a small bout of laughter leaving him, seemingly satisfied with his own joke.

Scoffing, you folded your arms, a small silence ensuing, somehow not being able to wrap your head around your newfound information, “explain.”

Hyunjin tilted his head at you, his elbow on his knee to support his head as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t place, “do you remember? That first day we played capture-the-flag and I told you to pick up the flag?”

You nodded, remembering that moment very well, how firm his gaze was, how sweet his tone sounded, how his proximity made you feel as though you couldn’t move, “I remember.”

“That was me trying to use my charmspeak on you, and failing.”

You remembered the confusion you felt when he’d asked you to pick up the flag, your annoyance overpowering you and possibly being the reason why his abilities hadn’t worked.

“Ever since then, I realised it was never going to work on you,” he murmured, “and believe me, I would’ve known if it did. Which is why i’m telling you now,” he told you, his pace slowing down as his gaze stayed intent, enunciating his words clearly for you to hear.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, taking his lower lip between his teeth with a small pause before letting it go, his lips curving into a small smile, “that whatever you want me to undo, I can’t undo it.”

Only then did you realise the gravity of the situation, that whatever you were feeling towards Hyunjin was all coming from you, and that as much as you should’ve known, you still couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over you at the knowledge that it was real.

Hyunjin had taken in a deep breath before you, patiently giving you the time you needed to process whatever he’d told you, amused at the fact that you looked as though you wanted to hide.

“I don’t really... know how to explain this to you,” you admitted, seeing Hyunjin bring his hand up to cover his mouth, stifling his smile while trying to maintain a serious expression.

Hyunjin shook his head, “you can explain it however you want, you can not explain it too, if you want.”

You frowned, figuring he’d probably felt embarrassed for you, standing up and pressing your lips tightly into a firm line, a silent way of telling him that you’d wanted to leave, Hyunjin giving you an understanding nod.

Deciding that you just needed to regain your composure, you nodded, giving him an apologetic smile before you left.

===

You’d obviously consulted Jeongin in the time between that and your next meeting, the said boy claiming that he would never have seen it coming if you’d asked him a month before. Though he was no less supportive, the other daughters of Ares seemed to agree with him as well, all of them singing praises to you about Hyunjin and why you shouldn’t ‘miss this opportunity’.

Which was what ended you up at the Lake again that night, hugging your jacket closer to yourself to protect yourself against the cold breeze.

Staring at Hyunjin’s back, you took a deep breath as you made your way towards where he was seated at your usual spot, dressed in a simple shirt and sweatpants, not looking bothered at all by the cold.

“Hey,” he murmured, hearing the soft crunching of the pebbles under your shoes growing louder, a small smile on his face as you took a seat next to him, something about him not feeling as nervous as he’d expected himself to be.

Mustering a small hum in reply, you gulped, taking in a deep breath as you thought of where to start.

“Had a good day today?” you started, missing the way Hyunjin had quirked an eyebrow at you in his amusement.

He nodded, “average. Didn’t see you at dinner,” he mentioned, turning his head to look at you, silently questioning your sudden politeness.

“Yeah... wasn’t hungry. Was with Jaehyun and Jeongin at the arena.”

At the mention of Jaehyun, Hyunjin pursed his lips, his smile slowly disappearing as he nodded slowly in understanding.

“Does he like you?” he blurted abruptly, his words making your eyes widen. Once again, Hyunjin found himself wishing that Aphrodite would give him more confidence for once, especially in a time like this.

You shook your head, his words having shocked you into laughter, “oh, no, he doesn’t. He’s dating someone back home.”

“Really? But I heard from one of my sisters that—”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “your sisters? I heard it from Jaehyun himself. Trust me. He’s not interested.”

Hyunjin had visibly relaxed, “oh...” his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, “good.”

Turning to him, you’d raised an eyebrow at him, “good?”

He nodded, a small huff of laughter escaping him, “yeah, good. Honestly, I don’t think I'd stand a chance if he was involved.”

“What makes you say that?” you couldn’t help but laugh, in disbelief that he sounded almost threatened by Jaehyun.

Shrugging, Hyunjin shifted in his seat, bringing his hands behind him to support his weight, “you know, everybody loves him.”

You had to refrain from scoffing, “I think everyone loves you too.”

Hyunjin didn’t bother stopping himself, saying the first thing that had come to mind.

“Including you?” Maybe Aphrodite heard him.

Your head whipped around to look at him, lips parting in shock as you met his gaze again, something about it exuding a kind of certainty that you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of, something about the fact that it was coming from Hyunjin making a warmth spread through your chest, once again reminding you that as delicate as the thought of Aphrodite was, Hyunjin never failed to show you that where there was beauty, there also came a lot of strength.

You gave him a firm nod.

“Including me.”

A smile played at Hyunjin’s lips, “I’m glad you decided to meet me here.”

You huffed, “I had to,” you told him, “I had so many things I wanted to say to you, but now that i’m here it’s like... nothings coming to my head.”

Hyunjin’s smile grew, and it was such a Hyunjin thing to see. How he didn’t bother to contain his happiness, especially now, “what about you say the first thing that comes to your mind right now?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“I would say I’m thankful that whatever i’m feeling isn’t just because of magic,” you averted your gaze briefly, daring yourself to hold his gaze no matter how foreign your words felt as they left your lips, “because it’s the first time it’s ever felt so... you know, real. ”

Hyunjin nodded, “I know i’m supposed to be like... familiar with love and everything but,” Hyunjin paused, finding his gaze lingering on your lips a little too long.

“Me too,” he finished.

You knew you weren’t hallucinating when you’d seen Hyunjin leaning closer to you, his hand behind him supporting his weight as he drew closer to you, your eyes slowly closing as Hyunjin’s lips were barely next to yours, being able to feel his breath just ghosting over your lips, something about it almost sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart wasn’t beating fast, your chest didn’t feel tight, this wasn’t like anything you were used to reading about it novels or witnessing in movies, or even hearing from your friends, no. Something about this moment had felt so comforting, that with each second it had only managed to draw you in even more.

“May I?” his voice came out as barely above a whisper, your breath hitching at the way you’d felt as though you were hanging from a string, the anxiety from not having done this before but the urge to just go ahead with it because it had felt so natural.

And soon enough, you’d felt his lips press gently against yours, sighing a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you let yourself follow his lead, feeling his hand move to touch the side of your head gently, the warmth from his hand flooding into your cheeks as you felt his hair brushing against your forehead with a featherlike pressure. It was as if every tiny detail was making itself known to you with the sole purpose of making you feel as if you were in some sort of perfect situation.

Almost deepening the kiss, Hyunjin stopped himself, pulling away almost reluctantly as his thumb grazed over your lower lip gently, his eyes looking dazed and unlike anything you’d seen before.

Feeling breathless and hazy, Hyunjin had let out a small huff, a smile making itself known on his face as he caressed your cheek softly, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, standing up as if nothing had happened, though you didn’t miss the way how this time he’d held a hand out for you to take.

Accepting his hand, he helped you up, but he hadn’t let go. Instead, he’d stepped just slightly closer to you, interlocking his fingers with yours as he turned to give you a smile, his eyes forming cute crescents and exuding pure relaxed happiness, something you were glad to have grown so accustomed to seeing and experiencing with him.

“What?” you asked, not being able to help yourself from feeling shy under his gaze.

“Walk you back to your cabin?”

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #stray kids au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz au #skz scenarios #hyunjin au #hyunjin scenarios #enemies-to-lovers!hyunjin #demigod!hyunjin #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

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crvluz · 3 years

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✰𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 ✰

𝟏𝟖+!! 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.. 𝐓𝐖: 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

Dating a criminal meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some dead cops. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss' bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you'd prefer not to know about. And while you weren't necessarily okay with a lot of what Jean did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn't scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Jean could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn't care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he's found something to tether him to this existence.

Maybe he didn't use those words exactly, but he doesn't have to. You know that's what he means when he spoils you with expensive clothes and jewelry, when he offers to kill any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any "normal couple" experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine's Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Jean had been gone for close to a month now and you didn't expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don't jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of the Creed Aventus cologne, gunpowder and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Jean's scent and you've missed it. You've missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

"Welcome home." You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn't matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his light hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. "Sit up, darling. I got a surprise for you."

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he's really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Jean expectantly. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It's so cliché you can't help but let out a small snort. "What is it?"

"It's a gift. You know... for Valentine's Day?" He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn't your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn't want him to be.

"Well now I feel awful. I didn't get you anything." You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

"It's like a toy... so it's technically for you, but kind of for both of us." It's unusual to see Jean this excited. Eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

"Like a sex toy?" A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

"Are we playing fucking 20 questions? Just open it." He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don't comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn't falter. You've never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It's definitely the real deal.

"Jean, this isn't a toy." You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says "Princess, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?"

"O-okay? What do you want to do with it?" You ask, placing the offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

"Ever heard of Russian Roulette?" Jean, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Jean is quick to pull you back.

"It's really easy, darling. No need to look so scared." He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. "6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens."

The look on his face is positively demented. Sage eyes wide and bright, his face contorted into a sinister smile, white teeth and the silver tongue piercing gleaming in the dim light.

"Baby," you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. "I don't know about thi-"

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you're unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

"You see now darling?" He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. "You've gone and wasted a shot."

Jean climbs off of you and you're left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

"You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?" Jean prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes begin to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Jean has in store for you.

"Good. Now strip." He commanded and like a good girl, you obeyed.

Your arms feel like they're made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Jean's old ones). You can't stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can't be happening. It's Jean. He wouldn't hurt you. He promised you that.

"Oh cut the fucking waterworks." He snaps. "As long as you listen, you'll be fine."

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he's leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. "Fair warning, I'm more of a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of guy. But you know that already." He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. "Now, touch yourself for me."

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it's like you can't get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of the gun in your boyfriend's hand, you still bring your own hand between your legs, but you can't concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Jean's standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You gasp again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

"Princess," Jean's gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you're very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. "You're ruining my surprise. Got it 'specially for you and now you're being a brat." He querched an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

"So-sorry.-" your voice breaks. "I'll be good."

You're still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it's a game. You can't help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend's villain behavior.

"Yeah?" His voice drops to a whisper. "Then show me." He challenges you. Jean slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that's doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would. Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for the best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, it's Jean's touch. In your mind's eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Jean on top, resting his forehead against yours. It's one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It's one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, leaving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice that you love him, that he's perfect, that he's yours. Because it's one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It's not long before you're leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there's a voice chastising you for being so easy for him... even now. There's almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Jean's; they never hit all those deep, hidden spots that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

"Look at me." You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you're lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it's almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you've been living in this whole time. It's enough to make you forget the situation you're in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

"Fucking slut." He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it, the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

"All those fucking tears but look how wet you are." He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. "Tastes so good, princess." He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine. You reflexively grab onto his light ash-brown hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue piercing before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your pussy, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he's eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren't for the metal digging into your flesh.

"Darling," He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. "I want you to squirt for me."

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You're not sure of the odds that you'd be able to right now and it's not a gamble you're willing to take. "Jean, I don't think I can...."

CLICK

You thrash, gasp so loud it makes your throat burn.

Jean still holds you open, keeping you in place. "I wasn't asking." He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes two of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It's unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand, the one he held the gun with up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what's at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You're consumed by desire as Jean brings you so close to the edge.

"D...Deeper please." You pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. "Right here?" His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

"Y...yeah." You're barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Jean keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can't hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Jean doesn't move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you're trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. "You made such a mess baby, but I'm glad you're finally having fun." He's just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn't let you recover. "Come on, princess. My turn." He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans.

You pull yourself onto all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

"You've been lucky so far." He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. "But I wouldn't test it if I were you. Open."

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Jean.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savoring the taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. "Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes." He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his dick, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging.

"So good to me princess." He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Jean is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You're already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don't dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that's hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn't give you much time before he's in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

"I love you so much. You love me?" He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try to utter a 'Yes, I love you.' but with his dick gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. "You'd do anything for me right?" He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Jean lose his composure bit by bit. "Yeah. That's why you're my girl." He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his hair and holding you there. "Fuck."

CLICK

"Mmmhhh" You squeal around him but you can't pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp.

"Wh- Why" You blubber, voice hoarse. You don't understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

"Sorry princess. Felt so good, my finger slipped." He doesn't even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there's no way you can win because Jean doesn't play fair.

He doesn't give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. "C'mon pretty princess." He tugs on your ankle. I want to see you bounce on my dick."

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn't need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don't want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It's something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it's working. Circumstances be damned. "I need to feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me baby." He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You're outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Jean's chest.

"What's the matter darling?"

I'm terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

"Oh, I know." He coos, voice dripping with condescension. "'I'm too big for your tiny cunny." He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. "But you can take it. I know you can." He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You can do it for me"

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that's apparently not good enough for Jean and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You're trying.

"Quit being a baby and just take it." He says before you even get the chance.

"I'm trying Jean, please just-"

CLICK

He cuts off your plea. He's not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his dick by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling onto your boyfriend's chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he's quite literally splitting you open.

"See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn't that right." He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. "But looks like you're all out of chances princess. Now bounce." He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Jean's brown eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

"Good girl." When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he's holding in it. He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You're practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with "yes" and "more". All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It's confusing and you can't process any of it.

"Who owns this perfect pussy?"

"Jean. Fuck. Jean." Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

"That's right it's all fuckin mine. My pretty baby." Jean's eyes are focused on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, your brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

"Darling" He groans. "I feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum?"

He's right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Jean abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. "Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? I want you to baby." He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. "C'mon doll, please."

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn't let you catch your breath before he's got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. "Now make me cum." You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Jean gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he's not done with you yet.

"Hey." You're ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. "Don't pass out on me now."

"So-sorry! 'M sorry!" You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt. You're so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don't have a choice and you don't dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

"You can do better than that doll." He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. "It's like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling."

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you've been with Jean, you've learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can't remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Jean tsks at you, reminding you that you can't rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he's buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he's getting close, you're not sure how much more you can take.

"If I don't bust in the next 5 seconds." His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. "Bang!" He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

"Five." He grits out.

"Jean, please!" But you're met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

"Four." He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can't stop moving, not unless you want him to- "Please cum!" You beg. "Need your cum."

"Three."

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

"Wh-Why?!" is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

"Two." He ignores your question, transfixes on your tits bounce in his face. You're getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Jean is determined to get you there.

You still can't believe this is real. You never thought that Jean would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that's what he told you.

Moreover, you can't believe how your own body is betraying you. You can't believe you're actually going to cum. Again.

"One."

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it's out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK and the sensation of Jean's hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he rusts up to make sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you're able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world's funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

"You should have seen your face. You were so fucking scared."

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Jean. This is the Jean that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Jean.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Jean grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. "C'mon princess, you didn't think I was being serious did you?"

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. "Don't be such a crybaby. It was just a joke." He strokes your back oh so tenderly. But you won't fall for that again. Jean is a villain through and through. You know that now.

It's no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don't know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I love you."

#jean #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #smut #intense smut #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein #gunplay #degrading kink

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secretpeachtea · 3 years

Text

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 7

Title: the fox’s den

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: Hey y’all! There’s gonna be quite a lot of dialogue in this chapter, but I hope it’s not too boring. I was really excited to write this chapter since Inarizaki is my favorite team :D Hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

There was always something entrancing about the second half of the year when the green and gray streets transform into a multicolored wonderland as a response to the incoming shift of seasons. You admire the different shades of red, orange, and yellow that litter the ground that you’re walking on as you make your way to work. The only things going through your mind right now are serenity, peace, and-

“‘SAMU, YOU BASTARD!”

At the sudden voice, you almost trip on your own feet in surprise. Once you’re sure you won’t fall flat on your face, you look up and see two familiar twins right outside the front door of Onigiri Miya, clear irritation written on their faces.

“How could you say that?! Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?” Atsumu yells at his brother while clenching his hands by his sides.

Osamu’s eyebrows are furrowed in distress. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one with common sense here. I’ve done what I can to convince you, but you just won’t listen to me!”

You start to worry now as you continue to watch the two glare at each other from where you’re standing a few feet away. You know it’s best not to interfere, but there’s a part of you that wants to stop them before things get out of hand. It seems like you don’t even have to make a decision as Atsumu’s eyes meet yours. “Hey, sweetheart! Come over here and tell this tasteless scrub that he’s wrong!”

“Who you calling a tasteless scrub, you uneducated swine!” Osamu crosses his arms in disdain but softens his gaze when his eyes land on your approaching figure.

“Hold up. What are you guys even talking about?” You try your best to keep your voice as relaxed as possible but still proceed with caution in case one of them were to blow up again in anger.

What you didn’t expect, however, were the next few words that came out of the blonde’s mouth. “The best Disney princess is obviously Rapunzel, but ‘Samu doesn’t agree!”

“You just like her ‘cause she’s blonde! Clearly, Belle is the superior princess!” The other twin spits back.

You pause for a moment to process the situation. That’s...not exactly what you expected when you first saw them arguing outside of the shop (and quite loudly too). A deep sigh leaves your lips as the two childish men in front of you continue to banter.

“Oh yeah?!” Atsumu suddenly directs his attention on you and places his hands on your shoulders for emphasis. “Sweetheart, who do you think is the best Disney princess?”

Already feeling an incoming headache, you just say the first thing that pops into your mind in hopes of stopping this madness. “Oh, uh...I don’t know. I think Mulan is pretty badass.”

The twins go silent as they contemplate your response for a brief minute. It seems like you gave a satisfactory answer because they both make eye contact with each other and nod their heads. Their strange twin telepathy is something you’ll never understand.

No longer having the patience, you just brush off Atsumu’s hands and use your spare key to open up the front entrance of the shop. The two men just follow you inside and the blonde is the first one to break the silence in a much calmer tone than before. “Okay, fair. But, I really do think-!”

Atsumu halts his footsteps as you and Osamu just glance at him confused. The blonde gasps dramatically as he stares at the new additions to the shop’s walls. “HEY! Why do you have their autographs on your wall?!”

Not wanting a part 2 to the previous fiasco, you just head over to the back room to put your belongings away and get yourself ready for work. Securing the cap on your head, you walk out of the room and stroll to your spot on the register. It seems like Atsumu is a lot more fired up than usual because he’s still arguing with his brother.

It took everything in Osamu to keep his voice at a normal level while responding to Atsumu’s pettiness. “They came over to eat one day and I thought it would look good for the shop.”

“Don’t you know that we’re ultimate rivals?! You can’t be siding with the enemy!”

“They’re your rivals, ‘Tsumu. Everyone’s technically considered a customer to me.”

“Traitor!”

You swear you saw puffs of smoke pop from Osamu’s ears from his frustration. You were about to place a hand on his shoulder in hopes to keep your boss from throwing something at his brother, but a smooth voice interrupted the tension in the room.

“Calm down, Atsumu.”

You and Osamu jumped in surprise, while Atsumu let out a startled yelp at the unexpected guest. The three of you turned toward the front entrance to see who showed up an hour before opening. Although you only heard one voice, three tall figures in casual clothing stand at the doorway. They step inside the building and you vaguely remember seeing their faces in a picture Osamu once showed you from high school.

The person in the middle of the group brushes away a couple strands of his gray hair with black tips while his other hand sits on top of the handle of a small suitcase. The one on the left has a built body with dark skin sporting a kind smile. The one on the right has a lanky body and long fingers that reach up to his face to cover a yawn on his bored expression.

If you remember correctly, Osamu had told you about some of his former teammates and the ones standing in front of you were Kita Shinsuke, Ojiro Aran, and Suna Rintarou.

The twins brighten in recognition and make their way over to the newcomers. “Kita-san! Aran-san!”

“I’m here too, you know.” Suna comments.

All of the guys greet one another in the middle of the room with smiles on their faces. You’re not really sure what to do since you’re the odd one out.

You stand off to the side behind the counter awkwardly, but you are interested in their little group dynamic. The Inarizaki alumni all hold completely different demeanors and postures, but one thing that they all share is that all of them are incomprehensibly attractive in their own way. Why are all of the former and current volleyball players that you’ve met so far like this?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you’ve been staring at Kita in particular for a couple minutes. He must have felt your eyes on him because he momentarily looks away from his current conversation to make direct eye contact with you. You let out a small squeak after getting caught staring, but it doesn’t seem like Kita is bothered at all.

“Ah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Kita leaves his group to walk over to where you are and this catches the attention of the other four males as well.

“It’s no problem! I wanted to give you guys room to catch up.” You lift up your hands to wave off his apology and give Kita a bright smile as you speak. “It’s finally nice to meet the oh-so-praiseworthy rice provider for the shop, Kita-san.”

Your reply elicits a soft laugh from the man’s mouth. “Nice to finally meet you too, (Surname)-san.”

“You know my name?” You ask, surprised.

“Aside from looking at your name tag, yes. I’ve heard some things about you from the twins,” Kita answers.

Your cheeks turn a bit pink in embarrassment because you completely forgot that you were wearing your name tag for work. Your embarrassment doesn’t last for long, however, when you quickly realize what Kita had just implied about the twins. You shoot an intimidating look at the two culprits and neither of them meet your gaze. “They talk about me?”

“Only good things. No worries.” Kita tries his best to reassure you that there hasn’t been any slander against you, but you still feel a bit insecure.

Knowing that feeling this way is probably unnecessary, you just resort to a little bit of teasing. “I don’t worry so much about Osamu-san. It’s the other one that needs to be kept in check.”

“Hey!” Atsumu’s head quickly turns to your direction at your very obvious accusation.

Suna snickers while ignoring his friend’s outburst. “She’s a smart one.”

“Hey!”

Aran chuckles in amusement and Osamu just smiles at his brother’s distress. You try to fake exasperation by placing a hand on your cheek and Kita’s smile falters as he catches something from the corner of his eye. The charm bracelet that you received from Osamu is secured to your wrist with the small onigiri charm shining under the fluorescent lights.

“Oh, so you’re the one…”

You look back at Kita in confusion. “The one what?”

Kita hesitates for a moment before simply shaking his head in dismissal with a knowing grin on his lips. “Ah, it’s nothing.”

You’re bewildered by his mysterious response, but it doesn’t look like he wants to talk about it anymore, so you just brush it off for now.

As everyone else continues their own conversations, Kita thinks back to a conversation he had a couple months back.

“The rice should be coming in a couple days, Osamu.”

“Sounds good, Kita-san.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Actually...I have a quick question.”

“What is it?”

“What would you...um...give to someone who just graduated that’s not so generic or meaningless?”

“...Are you asking for your coworker?”

“Scary! Are you sure you don’t read minds or something, Kita-san?”

“I don’t believe I can. But, to answer your previous question, if you want to give a gift that holds more meaning, I would say buy or make something that’s personal to both of you. It could be from a fond memory you share or a common interest. However, based on the positive things I’ve heard about her, she would probably appreciate anything you give her.”

“Hm…”

Kita is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears Osamu’s voice nearby. “I’ll get you guys the usual, right?”

The rest of the guys all nod their head and Aran makes the motion to take out his wallet. However, before he can do so, Osamu lifts up a hand to stop him. “No worries, Aran-san! All of this is on me!”

Atsumu’s ears perk up. “You’re not gonna make me pay for my food this time, ‘Samu?”

Kita looks towards Osamu and slightly tilts his head in confusion. “You make your brother pay for his food?”

“Always.” Osamu answers without hesitation and with one of the most deadpan expressions you’ve ever witnessed on him.

“I see.” Kita simply nods his head in understanding. “It would be detrimental to your business if you gave things out for free too much.”

Atsumu grabs onto his former captain’s arms in exasperation. “Kita-san!”

A quiet giggle leaves your mouth at the scene in front of you. It seems like the twins are a bit more competitive and bicker more often when their former teammates are involved. Seeing this side of Osamu amuses you since you’re more used to his laidback nature.

Eventually the brief comical moment calms down and Osamu begins to prepare all of the food. Kita and Atsumu seemed to be in their own world, so you decide to try and speak with the other two people in the room that you have yet to be acquainted with.

Suna and Aran seem to have been thinking the same thing because they are already walking up to the counter in your direction. Suna raises his right hand in greeting, while Aran gives you a polite smile before speaking, “You must be (Surname)-san. Apologies for taking so long to greet you.”

“No worries.“ You wave off the apology. “You guys were also teammates with the twins in high school right? The only thing I really know are your names. What were your positions?”

“I was a wing spiker. I’ve actually known the twins since we were in elementary school,” Aran replies.

You clap your hands together in realization. “You guys are childhood friends then! I’m surprised you haven’t come up in my conversations with them more.”

“Those two were always running around all over the place just to compete against each other, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t remember half of the things they experienced in school.” Aran lets out a deep sigh, but you couldn't detect any real annoyance.

If the counter wasn’t in the way, you definitely would’ve patted the man on the shoulder. “Well if you’re as patient and calm as you are now with their antics for all those years, then you definitely deserve the appreciation, Ojiro-san.”

“You deserve it just as much since you see at least one of them almost every day now.” Aran sends you another kind smile and you can’t help but mirror it.

Not wanting to leave out Suna from the conversation, you turn your head towards the male who is just listening with his hands shoved into his pockets. “What about you, Suna-san? What was your position?”

“Middle blocker. Although, I did work as a part-time witness to the twins’ stupidity.” The stoic male smirks and looks at you in the eye. “Seems like you’ve taken up that job?”

You burst out laughing. “I can’t really deny that. We should be compensated for all this work.”

Suddenly, you feel a heavy weight on your shoulder that catches you off guard. When you look up, Osamu’s elbow is leaning on your shoulder and there are pieces of rice stuck to his fingertips. He has one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion. “Hey, why do I get the feeling that you guys are talking behind our backs?”

Suna looks directly at Osamu with his usual expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Feeling a bit playful, you also answer with the same deadpan tone. “Yeah, we’re just bonding over some relatable stuff.”

Suna takes one of his hands out of his pockets and raises it up next to you. Without hesitation, you give him a high five while holding back your smile. Aran just chuckles at the unexpected tag team between you and his former teammate.

Before your boss could make any more comments, his phone dings from where it’s sitting on the counter between his work station and the register. Osamu seems briefly conflicted since his hands are covered in rice but quickly comes to a decision. “Hey, (Name)-san. You mind holding up my phone for me? I think it’s a message about a shipment for some ingredients we needed to restock.”

“Yeah, sure!” You pick up the phone and a picture of Onigiri Miya with a large ‘Grand Opening’ sign in front of the entrance illuminates the lock screen. “Oh, you have facial recognition. I’m gonna have to borrow your face for a bit, Osamu-san.”

Osamu leans down as you place the phone in front of him for a couple seconds, but nothing happens. You try to angle the screen differently and wait a little longer, but it’s still not unlocking. Across the counter, Atsumu watches the two of you struggle through a few more attempts before losing his patience. “Just put the phone up to my face. It’ll probably work.”

A bit curious to see if the phone will actually unlock for the other twin, you move your arm to where Atsumu’s waiting. You keep the phone up for a few moments, but there’s still no response.

The blonde just stares at his brother’s phone in disbelief. “What the hell? Why isn’t it working??”

“Wow, even my phone can tell who the uglier brother is.” Yup. Osamu’s definitely feistier today.

“WE LITERALLY HAVE THE SAME FACE.”

The twins look like they’re about to start another round of unnecessary bickering. From the side, Kita sighs at the idea of having to intervene in yet another argument. He opens his mouth to stop the madness, but you beat him to it. You shove Osamu’s phone into his face again and surprisingly it unlocks. “Alright, guys. You can shut up now. I got it to work.”

Both Atsumu and Osamu shut their mouths immediately. They still looked a bit irked at one another, but no longer have the will to fight. Kita stares at you with shock. He’s never seen anyone other than himself dissipate the twins’ bickering so quickly and you haven’t even known them for as long as he has. Even Aran gives up at some point. Perhaps you are a much more important presence than he realized.

Clicking on the message notification, you lift up your arm just enough so that both you and Osamu can look at the screen comfortably. The message consisted of a picture of a shipment with a list of items. The list is barely legible due to the small font, so the two of you have to lean in closer to the screen.

“The text is so small. Can you read anything?” You ask as you bring the phone closer.

Osamu squints and wipes one of his hands on a clean towel before placing it over your own to steady the phone. “Barely. Why did he send such a terrible picture?”

The close proximity and subtle touches between you and your boss do not go unnoticed. As you’re discussing the contents of the picture, Suna and Aran share a knowing look with each other.

After a couple minutes of trying to decipher everything in the message, you and Osamu have successfully written down a complete list of all the shipment contents on a napkin. Osamu pockets his phone and the napkin before turning to look at you. “Okay, I think everything’s all good. Thanks, (Name)-san.”

“No problem!” You rub your eyes from the slight strain and move back to where you were standing before while Osamu finishes up making the last of the group’s food. Suna and Aran just watch you both go back to whatever you were doing before as if your cheeks weren’t millimeters away from each other a few seconds ago. The two males make eye contact once again, but just shrug their shoulders.

“Food’s ready! Grab your onigiris and drinks. We can sit at the table for a bit.” Osamu announces to his friends. Your boss turns to you briefly as he starts going around the counter. “Wanna join?”

“No, that’s alright. You guys use this time to catch up. I can take care of setting up the shop on my own, so take your time.” You give him a reassuring smile and he returns a grateful one back.

While the guys chatted about their lives, you set up the chairs and checked each of the sauce bottles to make sure none of them were empty. About fifteen minutes went by and you now had a broom propped up against your shoulder after sweeping. On your way back, you pass by the table where everyone is still talking with one another.

“I am funny! There just wasn’t anyone competent enough to get the joke!” It seems like Atsumu was yet again becoming a victim to the endless teasing of his former teammates because his face is slightly flushed and he’s fidgeting with pent up frustration. In hopes to ease his heated face, Atsumu roughly starts refilling his cup with ice water with a tight grip on the glass.

Suna shakes his head. “I thought it was funnier when you almost passed out from being overheated from the Jackasuke suit.”

“What?!” Atsumu abruptly stands up from his chair and in his haste, he doesn't realize that he had also raised his cup just as quickly causing the water to splash onto the nearest thing which just so happened to be you. “Oh shi-! (Name)-chan!”

The front of your shirt is entirely soaked and water drips down from your face and the tips of your hair. You mentally thank your boss for making the uniforms black. Lucky for you, your pants are completely dry because your apron took all of the damage. Aran, who is the next person closest to you, takes the broom from your possession and hands you a couple napkins to at least dry your face, but it’s definitely not enough to make a dent in your drenched clothes.

Atsumu frets over you with a look of immense guilt in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, (Name)-chan! I-I didn’t mean to do that!”

“It’s...it’s okay. Just try not to lose your cool so easily next time.” You can’t really say you’re happy about your current predicament, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good if you lash out in anger. The running A/C is much more apparent now that it’s much easier to feel the circulating cold air and you start to shiver a bit.

Osamu catches your attention from the corner of your eye when he stands up from his seat. “You good, (Name)-san? You should probably go put on a jacket or something.”

“I didn’t bring a jacket or any extra clothes with me today.” You sigh at your misfortune at how something like this happens on the one day you don’t have your hoodie with you.

Osamu’s frown deepens at the growing unfortunate circumstances. “Ah, damn. We usually have extra shirts in the back, but I left them at home to wash.”

You dread at the thought of either working with a wet shirt or having to walk all the way back to your apartment to change while suffering through the chilly breezes. However, the universe must be taking pity on you when you hear another voice join in.

“(Surname)-san, I have some spare clothes in my suitcase.” Kita pats the suitcase that he had brought into the shop with him.

You know that the best and most efficient way to get out of your misery is to accept his offer, but you’re still reluctant. “Oh no! It’s okay! I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you.”

“I don’t mind. It wouldn’t do you any good to go around with wet clothing. You might catch a cold, especially since the weather is becoming cooler.” Kita immediately brushes off any concerns you may have. He zips open his suitcase and grabs a simple navy sweater from his pile of folded clothes. There’s a slight pause when he holds out the shirt to you before continuing the conversation, “It would mostly cause Osamu to be very distressed.”

There isn’t much room for arguing, so you slowly take the soft sweater from the older male’s arms and nod your head in understanding. “Yeah, I guess he would have to work twice as much if I’m not able to help out.”

Kita blinks at your oblivious rationale. “...right.”

You hear a hint of something in his tone but don’t dwell on it for too long because another blast of cold air hits your body causing you to shiver again. Muttering a quick thanks, you rush to the bathroom to change. After peeling off your uniform shirt and bundling it up with your apron, you wipe off any water that remains on your skin before slipping on the borrowed sweater. It’s much larger and warmer than you thought it would be. After gathering the wet pile of clothes, you head out of the bathroom in your new attire.

The table that everyone was sitting at is now completely cleared of any food and some of the guys are sitting at the counter while Osamu is washing all of the used dishes. Atsumu’s head is laying on the counter and still has distraught laced into his expression. He immediately stands up to apologize again when he hears you come out of the bathroom, but his words get caught in his throat when he sees you.

Kita’s sweater is definitely too big for your frame. The sweater reaches your mid thigh, but you’ve opted to fashionably tuck the front of it into your pants. The sleeves go past your hands only exposing your fingers and the collar reveals a sliver of your collarbone. The overall fit of the sweater creates an image that can make anyone stop and stare.

Atsumu’s ears redden at the sight in front of him and Osamu is frozen in front of the sink. Even Suna and Aran have briefly halted their conversation to stare silently. The only one who is visibly unaffected is Kita.

Kita decides to walk over to where you are and hands you an empty plastic bag. “You can place your wet clothes into the bag so it doesn’t get anything else wet. You can return the shirt to Osamu and he can give it to me before I head back home.”

“Ah, thanks! I’ll wash it tonight and give it to Osamu tomorrow when I come in for work.” You smile at him gratefully and do as he suggested. During the process, your sleeves roll down uncomfortably and you have to constantly pull at it so that it doesn’t get in the way.

Kita notices the way you are fidgeting and gives you an inquisitive look. “Are the sleeves bothering you?”

“Oh, um...just a bit, but it’s not too bad.” You reply.

The male just pulls the plastic bag away from your hands and puts it off to the side for the time being before holding out his own hands in front of you. “Here, let me help.”

You accept his assistance and hold out one of your arms to him. Kita calmly folds the sleeves to a proper length while you just watch quietly. Once he’s finished with one arm, he gently lifts the other and proceeds to fold the sleeve as well.

The rest of the guys were just watching silently. The entire scene is almost like it’s from some kind of shoujo anime. Atsumu swears there is even a sparkling background with multiple flowers to match the sweet moment. There’s a strange feeling bubbling inside Osamu’s chest, but he chooses to look away and continue washing the dishes. You and Kita looked really good together.

“Thanks again, Kita-san!” Once Kita finishes up the last sleeve, you smile at him once again. “I guess I was lucky that you decided to visit so suddenly today or I might’ve been in trouble.”

“You’re welcome.” Kita returns the smile. “We were all busy on the twins’ birthday last week, so it’s a good thing we rescheduled to today.”

“What.” You blink once. It takes a few seconds for you to process what the man in front of you had just said, but once it clicks, a wave of shock passes through your body. “What?!”

You scramble over to where Osamu is avoiding your gaze and grab onto his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was last week?!”

“Oh uh… it never came up?” A bead of sweat runs down the side of your boss’ face.

Still enraged, you swerve your head towards the blonde twin and point an accusing finger at him. “And you! I would’ve expected you to be all over having the attention!”

Atsumu shrugs his shoulder in an uncharacteristically nonchalant way causing you to drop your arm in confusion. “Meh, I’m not really all that big on birthdays. I thought my brother would’ve told you.”

When you look back at Osamu, his hand is rubbing at his neck sheepishly. “It was your day off and you looked like you weren’t feeling well the day before, so I thought it’d be best if you rested.”

You’re not sure if you should feel touched that he noticed that you weren’t feeling so great last week or upset that he didn’t think to tell you about such a special day. Your boss has also been pretty busy lately due to work, so there is a part of you that is understanding of the situation. There isn’t really anything you can do about it now since it’s already too late, so you just sigh in defeat.

Kita decides to intervene before you get even more upset. “No worries, (Surname)-san. There’s always a next year for birthdays. If you wanted to spend time with him, I’m sure just asking will suffice.”

“Indeed. Osamu would definitely not mind making time for you, (Surname)-san.” Aran adds.

Atsumu seems to be feeling a bit left out and chimes in, “Wait, but what about me? It was my birthday too.”

“It’s not like Osamu knows how to do anything but play volleyball and work. Might as well take him out somewhere nice.” Suna mentions while ignoring Atsumu’s outburst for the nth time today.

“Woah, guys!” Osamu’s face flushes a bit from the teasing. You laugh at the group's antics and feel your frustration melt away.

Suddenly, a phone alarm goes off and Kita pulls out his phone to shut it off. “Well, we should get going now. We wouldn’t want to be in the way of your business, Osamu. We’ll see you tonight with the rest of our former teammates.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys later.” Osamu replies with a wave of his hand.

“I have to get to practice too, so I’ll walk out with all of you.” Atsumu walks towards the exit with his hands folded behind his head. Aran and Suna get up from their seats to get ready to go as well. The two say their goodbyes to both you and Osamu before stepping outside to catch up with Atsumu.

Kita is the last one out, but before he closes the door he gives you one last glance. “It was nice to meet you, (Surname)-san.”

“You too, Kita-san!” Your lips curve upwards at being able to have met yet another kind person at work. Kita finally closes the door and now it’s just you and Osamu left in the shop. After having such an eventful morning, the peace and quiet is pretty refreshing.

Osamu looks at you from the corner of his eye thoughtfully. His gaze then shifts down to where his former captain’s sweater rests on your figure and he feels a twinge of irritation but keeps his expression neutral. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home and change? You live pretty close by too.”

You think for a moment but eventually shake your head. “Hm...no it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to miss work just to change into another shirt. I think my extra uniform needs to be washed anyway. Is there something wrong?”

“...no.”

“Jealous that I talked to your friends more than you?”

“N-no!”

A giggle escapes your lips when you hear your boss stutter. “You know you’re my favorite onigiri chef, right?”

“I’m the only onigiri chef you know.” Osamu points out and you giggle even louder. The male can’t even be upset because your laughs are quite contagious. Although, he does make a mental note to bring one of his own sweaters to keep at the shop from now on.

Leftovers

The Miya household is a simple two bed apartment with a decent view of the suburbs around the area. Both Miya twins are considered residents of the complex, but Atsumu usually stays in the dorm available for MSBY players. Today, both twins are in the apartment.

“‘Samu, I swear this shirt makes me look fat-...?” Atsumu barges into his brother’s room without knocking but cuts off his words when he sees his brother intensely staring at a pile of hoodies scattered on his bed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out which hoodie I wanna keep at the shop.” Osamu responds distractedly.

Atsumu stares at him incredulously. “What? Just pick whatever. It’s not like you don’t go to work every day. Why does it matter? ”

Osamu pauses for a moment. “...for emergencies.”

“Whatever, man. I’m heading out to go buy some new volleyball shoes with Shoyo-kun.” The blonde shrugs off his brother’s strange behavior and chooses to just walk away since he needed to leave soon. He momentarily looks out the window and notices some dark clouds filling up the sky. “And, I’m taking your umbrella!”

Osamu doesn’t hear what Atsumu says and barely registers the slam of the front door because he’s too deep in thought. What was your favorite color again?

A/N: Ouch. I realized that if you were to actually follow the haikyuu timeline, some of this wouldn’t actually make sense. BUT I don’t care :D Also, not me indulging on some Kita action cause I am whipped for this man (but not as much as Osamu hehe)

taglist: @kiyoo-omi @tris-does-stuff @livshotel

#onigiri miya #onigiri miya tidbits #secretpeachtea #inarizaki #atsumu #osamu #kita #aran #suna #haikyuu fanfiction

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