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biaswreckingfics · 4 years

Text

Transcendent

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, Angst, Fluffy ending

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: You are born with the first words you ever hear your soulmate say permanently marked on your arm, but what happens when your soulmate turns out to be your best friend’s boyfriend and neither of them are willing to end the relationship? Find out in Transcendent.

Soulmates.

The concept of soulmates was kind of funny to you.

The idea that there was one person out there for everyone on a planet filled with billions of people, and you were somehow supposed to find them during a short human lifespan, was wild.

Of course, some people believed in fate and thought that the universe would pull the two souls in the right direction so they could find each other. You didn't know if you believed in that, but something was out there making it happen because you had seen soulmates finding each other with your own eyes.

It was a weird sight to witness. They would be standing there talking to someone or quietly walking by themselves when they would just stop like they were frozen in time. A slow turn would come to reveal their other half and the change that overcame the two individuals was undeniable.

It was ineffable.

There wasn't a physical change that you could see with your eyes, but something shifts within each person, and you always wondered what that was like.

You had always wondered what it would be like to find the one who was meant for you. The one who would be your other half. You didn't want to be one of those people who gushed over their soulmates and constantly talked about the day you would meet them, but your friends knew how badly you wanted to meet your soulmate.

They would catch you running your fingers over the light tattoo on your inner forearm that everyone was born with in curiosity, but you didn't want to make too much of a big deal about it. They knew a part of you yearned to meet the person who would understand you like no one else, and they all wanted that for you.

That didn't mean all of your friends were on the same page as you. Sure, there were some who were, but others wanted to live in the "now", and of course, you didn't blame them.

Nobody knew when they would meet their soulmate, and you understood them wanting to find happiness with another partner in the present, instead of waiting for the future. You had also dated around here and there, but it had never felt right to you. It always felt bland and less colorful than you had hoped.

Your best friend was one of those people who wanted to live in the "now". The ones who hopped into relationships knowing their soulmate was out there probably searching for them without a care.

She had been in five different relationships over the years that you would consider to be somewhat serious, but you were always the first to know and she would share every little nauseating detail with you. That's why you were shocked when she called you to gush about her new boyfriend of a month.

How had she managed to go an entire month without telling you about this mysterious man she was falling for? Where did she even meet him, and why did she wait so long to tell you about it?

"I know he's not my soulmate, Y/N, but he's... perfect."

You quietly sit there and take in Mijung's words in slight disbelief. The two of you have been best friends for well over a decade, and you knew that while Mijung liked to jump into new things, she tended to get over them relatively quickly. It was stunning how much she seemed to be into this guy.

"How come I'm just now hearing about him?" You ask curiously.

Mijung is silent for a good minute and you wonder if she even plans on answering you. "I knew you wouldn't completely agree with our relationship... especially when I tell you how different this one seems..."

The seriousness of her tone catches you off guard. You have never heard Mijung this serious about a guy, and you had to admit, a small part of you was starting to get worried. If they cared about each other this much already... What will they do when they meet their soulmates?

"What's different about this one?"

Mijung takes a deep breath like she's preparing to launch into all the reasons he's so much better than the rest. "At first, we were just having fun. Nothing too serious because we knew we weren't each other's soulmates... but then it just naturally grew into something more. Maybe it's all in my head, but I feel some type of pull towards him, and I know it's quick, but I love him."

Your mouth drops open in shock at her admission, but before you can fully process what she's telling you, she continues to drop another bomb on you.

"What if there has been some type of mistake? What if we were supposed to be soulmates instead?"

You pull your phone away from your ear to check that you are really talking to your best friend. When you do in fact see her contact ID, you bring it back to your ear in confusion. You've never heard your friend talk like this. Ever.

"Mijung... That's never happened before. You know there are no mistakes when it comes to the soulmate tattoo."

"I know, but - "

"Mijung." You unapologetically cut her off.

She sighs loudly in your ear before relenting. "I know... I know the tattoo is never wrong, and I know we're not soulmates... I just wish we were."

"What are you going to do when one of you finds your soulmate?"

Her silence on the other end lets you know you're not going to like whatever she has to say. Whenever Mijung is silent, you know it's because she doesn't want to admit something to you.

"We want to be together. No matter what." She finally says with determination. "If one of us happens to find our soulmate... It's not going to change anything."

You blink a few times, taking in what she's telling you. Now it all made sense why she was hesitant to say anything. She knew you wouldn't agree with ignoring your soulmate when you found them. That wasn't how society worked.

Everyone waits for the day they meet their soulmate. The day colors seem more vibrant and sounds seem more celestial. The day everything in your world clicks into place... and they were just willing to ignore it? To let both of their soulmates go on without them because they thought they wanted to be together instead?

"So, you're just going to say, 'screw your soulmates'?"

She sighs heavily. "Look, I know you're excited to meet your soulmate, but I'm happy with Yeosang. We're happy, and we want to stay together."

When you stay silent, she lets out yet another sigh. "Please, don't be mad at me..."

"I'm not mad at you. You're both grown adults and you can do whatever you want. I don't agree with it, but I can't do anything to stop it, either, so..." You trail off, not sure what else to say at this point.

"Fair enough... but... how would you feel about meeting him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please, Y/N." Mijung pleads. "I really want the two of you to meet! I know you'll both get along really, really well."

The excitement and happiness in her voice makes you feel slightly guilty for mentally shitting on their relationship. If your best friend was happy... that was really all you could ask for.

As you agree to meet him, your eyes fall to the tattoo on your forearm. The words that you knew by heart staring back at you in a slightly lighter shade than your skin tone.

Once you hang up with Mijung, you lightly run your fingers over the words like you've been itching to do ever since you started talking about soulmates. The familiar phrase bringing a small smile to your face like it always does.

“It's freaking gray, you dolt.”

You had always wondered what type of conversation spurs those words on, and a twinge of excitement fills you when you think about the day you'll actually find out. The day you'll finally hear the first words of your soulmate.

You try not to get too lost in your imagination, and honestly, it's pretty easy to pull yourself out of it when you think about what Mijung had told you. Would the couple really say, "screw their soulmates" and stay together? Well... you guess you were just going to have to wait and see. Hopefully, for the sake of their soulmates... you never find out.

A few days later, Mijung is hosting a small get-together so her and Yeosang's friends could meet, and so you could finally meet the mystery man himself. She swore only a few people would be there besides you. Thankfully, your other best friend Yunho was going to be there, which was going to help calm your nerves and make you feel less anxious. Especially since Mijung warned you that Yeosang's friends could be a handful.

As soon as you woke up this morning, something felt different. You couldn't place your finger on it, but you knew, without a doubt, something was going to happen today. You just hoped it was something good.

With that in mind, you decide to dress up a little nicer today instead of your normal hoodie and yoga pants. You put on a cozy beige sweater and a pair of flattering skinny jeans that tucked into your brown booties perfectly. You spruced your hair up just enough that it looked like you actually attempted to make it look nice, but not enough that you looked like you were trying too hard. Adding a dainty gold necklace to complete the look, you were satisfied with what you saw in the mirror and quickly headed over to Mijung's.

Once you walk into her apartment, without feeling the need to knock since you were there almost as much as you were at home, you can hear booming laughter coming from the kitchen. You quietly close the door and take a moment to gather yourself before entering what already sounded like chaos.

The first person you spot when you round the corner is your tall, brown-haired, best friend Yunho. He notices you at almost the same exact moment and his eyes immediately light up while a giant smile grows on his face.

"Y/N!"

He strides over to you in two steps thanks to his long legs and pulls you into a tight hug. You welcome the hug from the giant puppy and feel some of your anxiety immediately disappear. If there was one thing Yunho was good at, it was making you feel safe and comforted.

"Hey, Yunho."

"Well... I don't have Yunho's name on my arm." You hear someone sigh from behind him.

A muttered “me either” has you pulling away from your friend and peeking around him. He moves out of the way and turns toward the two strangers in the kitchen with him.

Your eyes immediately fall on two ridiculously attractive black-haired males. One with full lips and a more hawkish nose and the other with small eyes and sharp cheekbones. When the latter smiles, two dimples appear on his cheeks, making him look younger than he did two seconds ago.

"Y/N, this is Wooyoung and San, Yeosang's friends." Yunho introduces you.

"Hi, I'm not your soulmate." The one who Yunho gestured was Wooyoung says.

The other one, San, side-eyes his friend before coming over to you and shaking your hand. "I'm also not your soulmate, but I'll at least be nice about it. My name is San."

"What did I say that was mean?" Wooyoung loudly asks.

As the two discuss what would and wouldn't be considered rude for a greeting at top volume, you glance over at Yunho in question. He nods his head, answering your unasked question.

"They've been like this since I got here."

Before you can respond, you hear Mijung ask the two bickering boys, "Why are you two like this?"

She enters the kitchen with the question and looks over at Yunho in exasperation. When she notices you, she lets out a high-pitched squeal that causes the two dark-haired boys to fall silent.

"You're here!" She happily says while bouncing over to give you a quick hug. "Let me go grab Yeosang real quick, so you can finally meet him!"

As she rushes out of the kitchen, you turn to Yunho and say, "She says so I can finally meet him like I didn't just learn of his existence a few days ago."

Yunho nods in agreement. "She just told me a week ago too."

Your head snaps up to the taller man in disbelief. "She told you first?"

A sheepish expression crosses his face as you mull over his words. You temporarily forget the other two are even there until San gets your attention.

"Yeosang's really nice. You'll like him. Though, he is pretty quiet sometimes, so you might have to pull the conversation out of him."

Wooyoung nods along, adding, "Don't let him fool you, either. He's a savage and will attack when you least expect it."

You hum in thought. Mijung was quite talkative, so you were sure the two balanced each other out in that way.

"Have you guys known him long?" Yunho asks.

"He's been my best friend for years. I probably know him better than anyone else." Wooyoung proudly tells the two of you.

You couldn't help but ask their opinions on your friend's apparent whirlwind romance. "What do you think about their relationship?"

Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders. "If they haven't found their soulmates yet, who cares?"

San glances at the wall across from him for a couple seconds before his eyes come back to you. "I don't think it's right. Especially when they say they're going to stay together regardless of what happens."

Yunho's eyebrows furrow and you figure this is the first he's hearing about this. Before you can ask him what he thinks, Wooyoung scoffs, pulling your attention back to him.

"No one can ignore the soulmate bond. It's over for them as soon as they meet their other half."

The sound of voices coming down the hallway instantly catches your attention. You easily identify Mijung's voice, but the other voice is too deep for you to understand right away.

For some reason, you tense up, but you don't notice until Yunho gives you a weird look. That's also when you notice that you're suddenly holding your breath for some reason. What was wrong with you?

"Are you colorblind, Yeosang? That's blue." You hear Mijung argue.

The most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard follows her words before you hear a deep voice that shakes you to your core.

"It's freaking gray, you dolt."

At that moment, your world stops. The sounds around you momentarily muffle before suddenly snapping back with a clarity. Their footsteps approaching you become louder and louder with each thud, and a sudden rightness settles into your bones as they get closer. Happiness floods you because you know, without a doubt, you just found your soulmate. Your other half. The person you'll have a connection with that transcends everything.

You feel Yunho bump into your arm and you look over at him in a daze, causing concern to grow on his face. His expression triggers something in your brain, and you're suddenly pulled from the moment when you realize what this means. You found your soulmate... and he was already claiming he never wanted to meet you. He didn't want to start a relationship with you because he wanted to continue being with your best friend, who was apparently in love with him.

With each step that comes closer to you, it gets harder to breathe. It feels like a hand is squeezing tighter and tighter around your throat, and your foggy brain beings to realize that you're panicking.

You had to get out of here. Now. You couldn't meet Yeosang because the second you spoke; the truth would be revealed. Not only would your best friend be devastated, but you would be outright rejected in front of everyone.

Your eyes flash back over to Yunho, who is quietly saying your name and asking if you are alright.

"I need to go."

Confusion flashes in Yunho's eyes. "What?"

"I have to leave." You repeat as you back away from him.

Even you can hear that your words sound desperate, and Yeosang's friends look over at you in confusion. You continue to back away from the three men who are watching you with either concern or like you were crazy.

A strong feeling tells you that Mijung and Yeosang are going to round the corner any second, so you turn and book it for her front door without a backward glance. You run away from her apartment like your life depends on it, and you don't stop until you're in the safety of your own.

Once you shut your apartment door, you lean back against it and try to take deep breaths to get some air back into your lungs. You thank everything in the universe that Mijung only lives five minutes away from you because you wouldn't have been able to go much farther.

You take a few more deep breaths to try to calm down, but you can feel yourself shaking. You don't know if you are shaking from adrenaline, shock, or fear, but you were sure it was a culmination of the three.

You had just found your soulmate. The only person in the world who is meant for you, but he is your best friend's boyfriend and she is apparently in love with him. Not to mention, he is willing to screw you over to be with her.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket and pull it out. You stare at your phone as you see Mijung's contact name blaring at you. There was no way you could talk to her right now. You didn't even know what the hell you would say to her in the first place. "Oh, hi. I'm sorry for just running out like that. By the way, your boyfriend is my soulmate. Isn't that crazy?" Yeah, right.

You hold your phone in your hand until it goes to voicemail and the tiniest sense of relief fills you. You unlock your phone with a sigh and see several missed calls from Mijung and a couple from Yunho… How would you explain any of this to her?

You toss your phone toward your couch and your eyes catch a glimpse of your soulmate mark. The words you had heard Yeosang say not even half an hour ago. The words you were once so excited to hear, but now cause your heart to stutter in panic.

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Over the next couple of weeks, Mijung tries a countless number of times to get you and Yeosang to meet, and every single time you came up with an excuse or a way to get out of it, just like the night you had found out he was your soulmate.

Once you had finally returned her multiple missed calls, you came up with the excuse that you had suddenly felt very nauseous and needed to leave. She thought it was a little odd but didn't question it too much.

That excuse could only work so many times, though, so you came up with many others like you had to work or your parents needed you for something, but you knew Mijung was suspicious of why you suddenly never had time. You knew your window of time was closing, and you would have to meet him eventually.

You wished you could say a part of you was surprised when Mijung ended up calling you out, but you knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Mijung wasn't the type of person to accept "no" as an answer, and certainly not as many times as you have said it. You were slightly surprised you got away with it as long as you had.

"I know you're avoiding meeting him, Y/N," she tells you through the phone. "So, you can stop giving me all of these excuses."

You can hear the irritation in her voice, and while a part of you feels bad, the other part of you doesn't. This wouldn't even be happening right now if her and Yeosang weren't being selfish and stubborn.

She sighs in your ear. "Is it because you don't agree that we should be together?"

"They're not excuses, Mijung," you lie through your teeth. "I've just been busy lately."

Her silence lets you immediately know she's not believing a word you say.

"Look, it's not like he's even met his stupid soulmate yet, anyway, so why does it bother you so much?"

Even though she didn't know it, her words were like a slap to the face, and you sat there in disbelief that your friend was behaving this way. You mentally scoff. His stupid soulmate was also her stupid best friend.

You take a deep breath before mumbling that you have to go and hang up the phone.

You knew you had two options. You could meet him and let the truth come out and bask in the awkwardness that will inevitably ensue... or you could stay away and willingly lose the friendship you had with Mijung.

You knew your friendship with Mijung was going to take a hit either way. She would either be hurt by the truth or she'd never forgive you for continuously avoiding meeting the person she was "in love with".

Both options had pros and cons, and there were things you needed to consider before you decided what you were going to do. If you decided to go and meet Yeosang, you would finally get to know what your soulmate looked like. You would finally know if he was short or tall, a manly man or a pretty boy, but you would also be rejected by the one person on this planet who was supposed to want to be with you.

The pro to the second option was avoiding hurting your friend while also avoiding the rejection they apparently were going to give you, but it also meant that you were willingly giving up your soulmate and your decade-long friendship with Mijung.

Neither option sounded appealing to you, and a part of you hated both of them for making you have to decide between a rock and a hard place. You didn’t want to give up your soulmate. You’ve been waiting for him nearly your entire life, but him wanting to ignore the bond was forcing you to make that decision anyway, and since rejection hurts a hell of a lot more than curiosity, you choose the latter.

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For the next few weeks, you spend most of your time with either Yunho or by yourself. Once Mijung realized you were doing your best to never meet Yeosang, she obviously grew upset. In her eyes, you were mad about what her and Yeosang were doing, and you never bothered to correct her. It would be far worse for her to find out he was your soulmate than for her to think you thought they were being stupid. Which they were so it wasn't like she was far off.

After the first week, she had thankfully given up on trying to get the two of you to meet and has spent the last couple of weeks avoiding you like you were her. Of course, it hurt. It hurt to treat your close friend like this and to have her treat you like this, but it hurt more knowing that your soulmate was so close to you, yet so far away. You could live with losing Mijung’s friendship, but you weren’t sure you could continue ignoring your soulmate and letting him keep living in their lie. However, besides blowing up their relationship, there was nothing you could do.

Unfortunately, it was all going to come to a head, and quicker than you would've liked.

It was like the universe was determined to make you and your soulmate meet. If it hadn't been Mijung trying to consistently get you to meet Yeosang, it was Yunho begging you to hang out with the three of them, so he wasn't third-wheeling. If it wasn't that, it was apparently the three of you running into each other on the street, and this time, there was no escaping the inevitable.

You had been searching for a birthday present for Yunho when you decided that you needed a coffee, or you were going to collapse on the sidewalk.

Although you may have been dramatic with that statement, something inside of you did start to feel weird, but you couldn't place it. Something... something was going to happen, and soon.

You push the feeling to the side as you approach the entrance of the coffee shop. Once you got your dose of caffeine, you would figure out what this feeling was, but you had zero hopes of doing it right now.

As you go to reach for the handle, the door of the coffee shop pushes open toward you, and you quickly back away to avoid impact.

"Oh my god. I'm so sor... Y/N?"

Your body freezes once you place the voice, and your eyes slowly trail up and meet Mijung's. You open your mouth to say something, but quickly snap it shut once you take in the quiet presence next to her.

Your body and mind scream at you to look at the person next to her. To look at the man you had no doubt was Yeosang, and you try to fight it, but quickly realize there's no hope in fighting the inevitable. Slowly, you look over to the right and try to stop the gasp that leaves you.

Standing before you was a prince. There was no other way to describe him. He was ethereal, otherworldly. His skin was perfection. There wasn't a mark on it besides what looked to be a birthmark near his left eye that made him no less attractive. In fact, it added an allure to him that intrigued you beyond words. His pouty lips complimented his round cheeks in a way that made him seem softer, more delicate.

You meet his brown eyes as they stare at you curiously before you notice his brow furrow in confusion. A weird look crosses his face and that's when you know he can feel the pull because you can feel it too. It was like every fiber of your being wanted you closer to him, wanted you to unite with him.

You shake your head when you hear an "excuse me" and realize the three of you are still blocking the entrance to the coffee shop. You move away and back onto the sidewalk and the couple follows you, much to your dismay. You take in the look on Mijung's face and mentally prepare yourself for what was to come. She knew this was the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally meet.

"Y/N! I'm so glad we ran into you. I've been dying for you to meet Yeosang!" She says with a spark in her eyes that you can't interpret.

You glance over at him and he offers you a tight-lipped smile. "Hello."

Your eyes fall closed at this voice. It was deliciously deep and may be the most calming thing you've ever heard.

When you realize what you're doing, you snap your eyes open and offer him a small smile and nod. You were determined to not say anything. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in the middle of freaking town.

Mijung notices your lack of voice and you can see her frustration build, but you had to remind yourself that you were doing this for her. For both of you. The more you were in Yeosang's presence, though, the less you cared about their relationship.

Why were you so willing to let your soulmate go? Why didn't you deserve a little happiness for once?

Before Mijung can call you out on your behavior, the door to the coffee shop flies open and a group of teens come out, snagging your attention for a moment. You notice the one who opened the door with his back continue to walk backward, but you think nothing of it until he slams right into you.

He spins around in surprise at the collision and spills his warm coffee right onto you. You hear Mijung and Yeosang gasp, while you hiss in shock, expecting his coffee to be hot, but relax when you realize it's more lukewarm than anything. Thank god, because getting burned was not on your list of things to do today.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" The teenage boy panics.

He grabs napkins from his friend’s hand and begins wiping at the sleeve of your shirt. You look down at what he's doing and see a growing brown stain covering your sleeve. You appreciate his effort, but it's way too late to save it.

"I'm so sorry for ruining your shirt! I'll buy you a new one, I promise!" The boy shouts, still in full panic mode.

You grab his hands in an effort to calm him down, and to stop him from pulling at your shirt some more. You look him directly in the eyes and give him a small smile.

"It's an old shirt, anyway... and I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure? I'm so sorry..."

"Yes. I'm fine. It's not a big deal," you softly tell him.

The teenage boy looks at you like he's not sure if he should believe you before slowly nodding his head.

"I'm really sorry... again..." He tells you as he backs away from you. Realizing that's what got him into trouble the first time, he whips around and hurries after his friends.

You watch him go for a minute and sigh as you feel the liquid on your shirt become cold. Great. Now you were gonna have to... Your mind trails off as you begin to remember what was going on before the coffee incident. Shit...

You slowly turn to look at the couple next to you. Taking a deep breath, your eyes meet Yeosang's shocked ones as he searches your face in wonder.

"You're my soulmate..."

"Yeah..." you softly say.

A noise comes from next to you that snags both of your attention. You look over at Mijung, who was completely frozen beside Yeosang. Heartbreak and pain are clearly etched on her features as she takes in what's happening.

Yeosang looks between the two of you, confusion and sadness crossing his face as he tries to figure out what to do. You remember what Mijung had said when she was telling you about Yeosang. How he apparently didn't care if he found his soulmate and that he wanted to be with her.

A part of you wondered if that would change now that he met you. The soulmate bond was intense and everything in you wanted, needed, to be near Yeosang. Would he really try to ignore the soulmate bond? Did he still want to?

"You're his... That's why you've been ignoring me..."

"Mijung... I'm so sorry..."

"Are you?" She roughly asks while her eyes flash with anger. "You thought we were stupid for ignoring the soulmate bond. You probably think this is what I deserve, don't you?"

Your head jerks back like you've been slapped. "What the hell are you talking about? It's not like I planned this.

"Whatever," she spits before turning and nearly running the opposite way.

Yeosang continues to stand there for a moment, not knowing what to do. His eyes flit between you and Mijung's retreating figure. You see the longing in his gaze, but don't know who it's for.

His eyes fall close, and he takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he looks back at you.

"I'm sorry..."

Your heart stutters at those words, and you know exactly why he's saying them. He was going after Mijung. He was going to stay with her.

It feels like your heart cracks as Yeosang turns away from you. With each step he takes, it feels like it gets harder to breathe. A part of you likes to think that his slow movements are because he's feeling everything that you do, but you have no way to know for sure. You silently stand there alone as you watch the one person who's supposed to love you walk away.

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The next couple of weeks pass by in a blur. You fall into a boring, consistent routine of work and home. The only other time you bothered to leave the house was to see Yunho or get groceries.

Life felt like it lost its sparkle ever since your soulmate left you, and it was easy to find yourself staring off into space for long amounts of time. You, also, often found yourself feeling anxious and even a little bit twitchy. Your body knew something wasn't right, and it didn't know what to do about it.

The first week was the hardest. The rejection was still fresh and the knowledge that your soulmate and best friend were together when they knew the truth, was like a slice to the chest.

Avoiding them was easy because they avoided you just as much. It was like they were pretending what they found out didn't happen. They were continuing to live in their fantasy world.

When you got a phone call from Mijung the following week, you were surprised. You weren't ready to talk to her. You didn't want to hear her apologies or excuses, so you ignored it, and the dozens of calls after that. You couldn't really be mad at Mijung for fighting for what she wanted, but that didn't mean you were ready to face her and go back to being normal again.

Yunho respected your thoughts and feelings and didn't try to force you to forgive her, especially when he found out the real reason behind your actions, which you were thankful for. To say he was shocked that Yeosang was your soulmate was an understatement, and he was just as upset with Mijung’s actions as you were.

However, Yunho was always quicker to forgive people than you were. He went back to hanging out with Mijung and Yeosang fairly quickly, and when he asked if you had talked to your soulmate, you were confused. How would you have talked to him? Why would he want to talk to you?

That was the part that hurt the most. Yeosang knew who you were, and he didn't want to do anything about it. He wanted to live in the fantasy world he and Mijung had created, and as much as you wanted to pretend you were okay with it, you weren't.

What would even happen when he and Mijung broke up? Did he think he could come crawling back to you? Finally give his soulmate a chance? You didn't want to be a second choice for anyone, especially your soulmate. No fucking way.

Also, how could you be with someone who was in love with someone else? Your best friend at that? How could you be intimate with someone who had been intimate with your best friend? Who had chosen her? Could you compete with that? With what they had? Did you even want to?

Not to mention, how could the three of you ever be in the same room together? Whether Yeosang was with her or with you? The awkwardness, guilt, and pain the three of you would feel was something you wanted to physically crawl away and hide from.

You pull yourself away from the horrifying and self-deprecating thoughts that were trying to penetrate your mind and look down at your phone with a sigh. Before you could even finish the thought about Yunho being late, the tall man rushes into the coffee shop, his eyes searching for you. Once he spots you, he books it for your table with an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry I'm late."

You regard him like you're annoyed, but you really aren't. "I'll forgive you if you buy me a muffin."

"Consider it done," he says, smirking at your ploy to get free food.

You silently watch as he gets up to order himself a coffee and you an apology muffin.

Yunho had asked you to go get coffee with him today because he had something he wanted to talk about with you. You weren't stupid. You knew he wanted to talk to you about Mijung, and his sudden request for a coffee date instead of hanging out at one of your apartments like you usually did, clued you in on it. Especially, when you knew he had hung out with Mijung yesterday.

For the next 30 minutes, you're able to avoid the topics of Mijung, Yeosang, and soulmates all together, but you know Yunho isn't letting you leave this coffee shop until he talks about whatever he wants to talk about.

"They broke up."

You pause with your coffee halfway up to your mouth as you process his words. He takes your actions as an encouragement to continue.

"They tried to make it work for a couple days, but neither of them could move past what happened... That's why Mijung has been calling you."

You clear your throat and put your cup back on the table. What were you supposed to say? That sucks? You're sorry they didn't work out? Because you weren't. Actually... you didn't know what you were.

"I don't really... know what you want me to say?"

Yunho sighs, "Mijung feels really guilty. She knew that you wanted to be with your soulmate... and she knew she was in the way of that..."

"So, she broke up with him?"

Yunho shakes his head no. "It was mutual. She felt guilty and Yeosang... well, Yeosang felt the change. I guess when they say something clicks into place, they're right... Yeosang wants to be with you, or at least get to know you..."

He pauses to take in your reaction, but you offer him nothing. However, he does sigh when he sees your cautious gaze. "I'm not trying to tell you what you should do here, but... he's your soulmate, Y/N. I know you, and I know you're not going to avoid your soulmate for the rest of your life."

You pick your cup back up and bring it to your lips as you avoid Yunho's eyes. He was right. You wanted that soulmate bond, and now that Mijung was out of the way, you could have it, but it still didn't sit right with you.

Once the lukewarm liquid goes down your throat, you ask, "What do you think I should do?"

"Talk to them," Yunho says without hesitation.

You sigh, "I don't know if I'm quite ready to talk to Mijung... and I don't even know how to reach Yeosang."

Yunho tilts his head as an odd look crosses his face. "Yeosang says he's tried calling you quite a few times."

Your brows furrow in confusion before it clicks into place. You had been getting calls from a number you didn't recognize, but you kept ignoring them because you didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. It had been Yeosang calling you this whole time? Why wouldn’t he leave a voicemail or send a text when you continuously didn't answer?

You ponder over what to do the entire trip home. Should you call Yeosang? Wait until he calls you again? What are you going to do about Mijung? You had almost left your coffee date with Yunho with more questions than you originally had, and now you were more frustrated than ever.

You continue to process everything you had learned as you trek up to your apartment. They had tried to make it work... Tried to be together knowing who you were... Mijung knew how much you wanted to be with your soulmate, and Yeosang felt the same things you did when he figured out who you were, but Mijung...

Mijung was standing right in front of you.

You pause in the middle of the hallway and eye Mijung while she stands next to your apartment door. The thought of making a quick escape and avoiding her fleetingly crosses your mind, but the option is quickly taken from you when Mijung's eyes spot you.

"Hey..." She starts, taking a step toward you before stopping.

You take in her twiddling fingers and anxious gaze. She's nervous to talk to you. She's scared you're going to freak out on her or slam the door in her face.

You take a step toward her, and then another until you're outside of your apartment door. Mijung bites her lip as she watches you, but you ignore her and open your door. You don't take a step inside, though. Instead, you wave your hand into your apartment as an "after you" gesture.

Mijung takes the hint, but before she steps all the way into your apartment, she pauses and turns to you. When she throws her arms around you in an awkward hug, you freeze, not expecting it.

"I'm so sorry..."

You bring your hand up and awkwardly pat her back. "Let's get into the apartment before we talk. My neighbors are nosey, and I don't want them to know what's going on."

Mijung nods and pulls away from you. Once you're free from her limbs, you shut your apartment door and walk towards your couch, knowing Mijung will follow you.

When you're both sitting down, Mijung immediately turns to you and picks up from where she left off. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have tried to continue a relationship with him after finding out you are his soulmate. That was such a shitty thing to do. I know how excited you were to be with your soulmate... but I just loved him. I didn't want to give him up… I was being selfish."

You slowly take in her words. "Believe me... Nobody expected this to happen."

She gives you a sad smile and the two of you fall into silence. You're not surprised when she breaks it because you didn't have much to say at the moment.

"You should call him."

You snap your head to look over at her. "What?"

"Y/N, he's your soulmate. You should be with him," she tells you through misty eyes. "He's a good guy and he deserves to be happy, and you're the one person on this planet that will make him happy. That will complete him."

Surprise floods you at her words. "But what about you?"

She looks away and sighs. "I'll meet my soulmate one day... Who knows? It could even happen tomorrow. Life is odd like that."

You give Mijung a confused look and wonder who the heck this person next to you is. Mijung wasn't wistful like this. She wasn't one to dream about her soulmate.

She looks over and catches the expression on your face, which causes her to laugh. "I know. Who am I? ...Things were great with Yeosang, and if being with your soulmate is even better? Then I want that. For both of us."

"Yeosang wanted to be with you, though... He knew who I was, and he still left with you," you quietly admit part of your fears.

A guilty look crosses her face. "That was... my fault... He didn't want me to be upset, and I was so bound and determined to say, 'screw soulmates', I don't think he even knew what to do. That's why he followed me..."

She pauses like she's working up the nerve to admit to something, and when she finally does, a sick feeling grows in the pit of your stomach.

"Yeosang wasn't the one who wanted to ignore our soulmates... That was all me, and I kept trying to push him into wanting the same thing as I did, but I knew that was over the second he saw you... He stayed with me for those couple of days because I begged him to... but he was different. I think he tried to hide how he was really feeling from me, but it was obvious he didn't want to be there anymore. He was mentally checked out. Distracted, distant, and overall, just sad. When he sat me down to talk, I knew what it was about. He wanted to pursue something with you. He couldn't be with me anymore."

So many thoughts swirled through your head, you didn’t know which one to focus on.

This entire time, you were under the impression that Yeosang didn’t want to be with his soulmate. That he wanted to be with Mijung, and he didn’t care if he met his soulmate or not… but that was all Mijung? It was Mijung’s idea to ignore soulmates? Did he even say those things or was it all just Mijung’s wishful thinking?

Also, they were only together for a couple of days? She begged him to stay with her? A part of you was so mad at Mijung. That she purposely ruined this for you and convinced your soulmate to stay with her. How could she do this to you? To Yeosang?

Then again, another part of you was elated. Yeosang wants to be with you. He’s always wanted to be with his soulmate. He’s even tried contacting you multiple times. He hadn’t really rejected you…

“Yeosang wanted to be with his soulmate?” You ask for clarification. When she meekly nods, you continue. “It was you alone saying, ‘screw soulmates’?”

“Yes… and it was me who tried to continue the relationship afterward. Yeosang’s just too good of a guy to kick me to the curb.”

You hum in thought because what are you supposed to say? If you let your true thoughts and feelings out right now, you might end up smacking Mijung for pulling something so disgusting. For trying to keep soulmates from coming together when they’re two people she claims to “love”.

“Y/N… he’s your soulmate… He wants to be with you, not me, and he always has. Plus, there’s a reason the universe wants the two of you together… so you should call him and meet up.”

Your head was extra fuzzy now as Mijung suggests you call Yeosang again. She had just dumped a shit ton of information on you and it was a lot to process. You were gonna need a clear head before you talk to him about any of this.

While you are trying to work through your inner turmoil, you don’t notice Mijung reaching for your phone until it’s too late. You look up in confusion as she jumps up from your couch. Her head is down as she furiously types something on what you come to realize is your phone.

Before you can jump up and snatch it back, she drops it into your lap with a smile. “This is just the start of me trying to make up for what I did.”

You watch in complete confusion as she makes a beeline for your door before looking down at your phone to see what she did. When you see that the call screen is up and your phone is currently in the process of calling someone, you panic.

You recognize that number. You’ve had multiple missed calls from that number the past couple of weeks.

A deep voice answers the phone and suddenly you forget how to breathe.

“Hello?”

You open your mouth to say something, but absolutely nothing comes out. You can hear Yeosang’s soft breaths as he waits for you to say something, but you can’t make yourself do it.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes fall closed as he softly says your name. You had never heard it sound more beautiful than in that moment. It was almost like a caress. You force your eyes open and take a deep breath. You had to say something before he hung up.

“Hey, Yeosang…”

It’s quiet for a moment before you hear, “It’s really good to hear your voice…”

“Yours too…” You let out a soft laugh. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”

“Only if we let it be.”

The slight determination in his voice eases your anxiety. He was right. It was only going to be awkward if you made it that way. You take another breath.

“Would you like to meet up somewhere?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, almost before you can finish asking.

You hold back the laugh that wants to come out and suggest meeting at a park close to the coffee shop that you met at. Once Yeosang agrees, you hang up and feel the butterflies in your stomach start to crawl up your throat.

You are really going to do it. You’re going to meet up with your soulmate, and this time you don’t have to worry about anyone else, but the two of you.

You look down at the clothes you wore on your coffee date with Yunho and immediately get up to change. You quickly throw on a pair of your softest blue jeans and an off-the-shoulder long sleeve shirt. It was a comfy, casual look, and you didn’t look like a slob so that was good. Plus, the only other time he’s seen you, you had coffee all over your shirt, so this was a vast improvement.

You run your fingers through your hair to make it seem a little more put together and throw on some Chapstick before running for the door. The two of you decided to meet up right away, so you only had a few minutes to make yourself presentable, and this would have to do.

As you walk up to the park, your anxiety doubles and you let your thoughts consume you. Was this gonna be awkward? What were you going to say? What was he going to say?

When you step onto the path that leads into the park, it’s almost like your body knows exactly where to go before your mind does. You find yourself making a beeline for the bench that sat next to a beautiful stone fountain, and when you get there, you’re not surprised to see Yeosang already there waiting. A part of you knew he would be.

When you step up next to the bench, Yeosang turns to look at the sound and shoots up from his seat when he sees you, his eyes lighting up in excitement. A shy smile graces his face and you know a matching one is present on yours.

“You made it.” He happily says as he gestures for you to sit on the bench.

“I invited you here… Of course, I was gonna make it.” You softly laugh as you take a seat.

“Right…” he bites his lip for a moment as he settles back into his spot, “but it’s just nice to see you again.”

His eyes scan you from head-to-toe like he’s taking you in for the first time, and maybe he is. Considering how hectic it was the first time you met.

You meet his gaze and, as stupid as it sounds, the world stops. For one moment, you don’t hear the rustle of the trees, you don’t see the splashing of the fountain, you don’t feel the cold stone you sit on, all there is, is Yeosang and you. Suddenly, it’s like everything clicks into place, and that rightness you felt before settles deep into your chest. This is where you’re supposed to be. This is your person for the rest of your existence.

“Do you feel that?” He quietly asks in awe.

You almost couldn’t speak. It was like words evaded your mind and ceased to exist, but you somehow grasp onto some and are able to form a coherent sentence.

“The connection…” you trail off, nodding. “I never thought it’d be like this…”

It consumed you, and you would be content never existing outside of this moment again… but all too quickly it was over. The trees rustled once more, the water continued to splash in the fountain, and the stone beneath you became solid again, but there was something new in the air. Something that wasn’t there before but would be there for the rest of your life.

Yeosang clears his throat and reaches for your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are soft, and his touch is light, but he’s suddenly become your anchor, keeping you grounded and safe.

“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to ignore the soulmate bond for even a second…” He says, his eyes searching yours. “I’m so sorry…”

You immediately shake your head. “You don’t have to apologize. I ignored it too… even longer than you did…”

You feel so stupid for letting him slip through your fingers for all that time. For letting this moment continuously get pushed further away from you. You should’ve never run out of the kitchen that day… You should’ve let the cards deal how they were supposed to, instead of trying to fight fate.

“I do have to apologize for walking away from you. Mijung could’ve waited. You’re more important.”

“Well… We can only go forward from here… so let’s forget about the past.” Yeosang hums in agreement. “Although, I will say this wasn’t how I thought I’d find my soulmate.”

He lets out a deep laugh. “Yeah, I couldn’t have predicted this at all.”

You fall into a serene silence, processing everything happening in the moment until Yeosang breaks it.

“I was so excited to meet you… Mijung had already talked you up a lot, and then when my friends told me about you, I almost couldn’t wait any longer.”

You pause, remembering when you met his two friends at Mijung’s… and how odd you acted before you ran out… What kind of impression did you leave on them?

“What did your friends say about me?”

An awkward expression graces his beautiful face. “Well… Wooyoung thought you were kind of weird… but San said you were super nice and that he thought you’d be cool. Once we figured out why you apparently ran out of the kitchen like it was on fire, San made Wooyoung take back his weird comment, which, of course, ended up with the two of them bickering.”

You stifle a laugh and try to figure out what about the scenario made Yeosang excited to meet you. You didn’t sound like anything especially great, and nice was something you said when you didn’t know how to describe somebody. You don’t let it bother you, though. You did act weird, so there was no other impression they could’ve had, but you weren’t worried. You’d change their minds in the future.

“How come you didn’t leave me any voicemails or texts? I would’ve responded a lot sooner if I knew it was you…”

“And say what?” He asks with a wry smile. “I’m sorry for leaving you standing there on the sidewalk in a coffee-stained shirt, can you call me back?”

You shake your head at him and try to fight the smile that wanted to permanently be on your face. “I would’ve answered to that…”

Yeosang bites his lip before smiling and nodding. “I’ll remember that for the future.”

His words fill the air with an almost crackling intensity. The future… What would the future hold for the two of you? Yeosang must’ve felt it too, because he turns his whole body to face you, bringing his leg up on the bench so he’s not awkwardly twisted, but still managing to maintain his grip on your hand.

“I know…” he starts before looking down at your entwined hands and playing with your fingers. “I know it’s gonna be awkward with Mijung… but I want to be with my soulmate… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and not waste any more time.”

He stops playing with your fingers and looks up to intently search your gaze. He was right. Things were going to be awkward with Mijung, but you didn’t care. He was your soulmate and you wanted to be with him as badly as he wanted to be with you. The rest of it you could figure out together…

Because you’ve found your soulmate. The one being on this planet meant for you. The one who will always understand you and be by your side until your last day… and maybe even beyond that…

Because he was yours and you were his…

“I’d love that.”

Tagging: @to-all-the-stories-i-love, @skittlez-area512, @wanderingatiny

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novamirmirsblog · 3 years

Text

K.I.S.S.I.N.G

Word count: 1232

Genre: floofy fluff

Request: No ;3

Warnings: None that I can think of? Lemme know if there is tho :)

Based on this quote even though it has so little to do with the actual story XD - “I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

You were well and truly trapped. The mission had gone south, one bad call after another had led you to where you were presently. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. It's why SHIELD had decided to send only you, Natasha, and Wanda - leaving a lower-level agent in charge of the plane. It was a test run for you as you were the newest on the team and a refresher for Wanda, making sure her team skills were up to scratch with Natasha there as a glorified babysitter. The building was supposed to be mostly abandoned, a few HYDRA goons here and there to get target practice in but that was it.

Of course SHIELD had to have sent you in with bad information. This was your time to shine, to perform to the best of your abilities so a certain spy might notice you. Considering you were surrounded by some of the best in the business and a literal mindreader, you were quite proud that your little crush had gone unnoticed. Sure, you couldn't string more than two sentences together when Natasha spoke to you directly but she hopefully just thought you were a social recluse.

"Damn it. Did they not know they don't literally have to be a damned hydra. It's okay for one head to be chopped off and another not grow back." You spoke into your earpiece as you slit another hydra throat.

Chuckles rang back into your ear and for a second you forgot how to breathe. Natasha's gruff bark of laughter was the prettiest thing you'd ever heard.

Oh man. You had it bad.

You had it so bad that you briefly forgot you were behind enemy lines. That was, at least, until a bullet whizzed past your ear. That snapped you out of your daze pretty quickly. Not fast enough for you to dodge the bullet coming straight for your shoulder though. The pain that rippled through you was hot but not as hot as the annoyance of being shot at was. You sent a single bullet straight through the head of the goon who shot you first.

"Guys I've got some good news and some bad news."

"If you've got bullet holes in that new suit, Tony is literally going to kill you." Wanda spoke, her accent softening the words.

"Well, I guess I better start telling you what kind of flower arrangements I'd like for my funeral." You joked as you slowly made it to the extraction point.

"Don't die agent y/l/n"

"Damn. So formal. Lighten up Natty, I won't make you do a speech if you don't want to. I will, however, make sure Wanda mentions that in my final hours, you were so very cold and distant." Apparently being shot at gave you the confidence boost you very much needed in order to actually speak to Natasha.

"Hang on, I remember you literally stabbed Clint's hand when he called you Tashie and he's known you for years."

"Well, Clint wasn't delirious with bloodloss Wanda." A few more shots went off. "Head to the extraction point you two. We got what we came for."

Once we were all on the jet, Natasha started bandaging up your wound, careful not to touch it unnecessarily.

“I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

"Wow. Thank you y/n Don't blame the guy who shot you, blame the person trying to fix you up. You know if you would just sit still..."

You suddenly noticed how close you were to Natasha's plump lips. How easy it would be to just lean in slightly and capture them. With that in mind, you subconsciously began to move forward, feeling her lean in too, until a rough patch of turbulence placed some much-needed distance between you two. You could have sworn you heard Wanda mutter damn it but it was probably just your thoughts projecting.

~~~~~

By the time you had made it back to the tower, everyone had heard the news of how Natasha allowed you to live after calling her Natty.

"...even bandaged her up" Steve's voice echoed down the hallway as you, Wanda and Natasha made your way from the mission de-briefing. Maria had wanted you to go straight to medical but you had managed to convince her that not only was the job Natasha did good enough, but that Natasha was quite possibly in the wrong line of work considering her stitching was so good.

As you walked into the main living area, F.R.I.D.A.Y. started to play that "k.i.s.s.i.n.g" song that children sing.

"You are a CHILD TONY STARK!" Natasha shouted out. "I am going to kill him in the most painful ways possible."

"Well did you? Because from the interesting texts a young witch has sent, you came pretty close. " Tony sauntered out from an unknown location, standing in the center of the room with nothing but pyjama bottoms, a housecoat and a glass of what looked like whiskey. What happened next was pretty fast. Natasha launched herself at the billionaire. Steve tried to grab her midair as the whiskey came dangerously close to spilling over the sides of the glass. Natasha slid under Steve's legs and attached herself to Tony, putting him in a chokehold.

"One more word and you won't live to see another day."

You watched this all unfold and suddenly it dawned on you that perhaps the reason an international spy hadn't noticed your crush was because she was too focused on hiding her own.

"You're right you know." Wanda spoke quietly, watching Steve try to pry Natasha off a gasping Tony. "Literally everyone but you two could see that you have feelings for each other. We have bets going on. If you kiss her now, I win." She nudged me towards them with a wink "No pressure though. Although, if you were to help me win the bet, I'd split the money. All I really want are the bragging rites. Unless... that is you want Tony to win?"

You couldn't let Tony win. Over your cold dead body. With determination in your step, you walked over to where the supersoldier was still trying to save a now purple Tony. Natasha looked at you, loosening her hold just a fraction and you leaned in and kissed her. Sure, it was one of the most awkward positions you'd kissed someone in but it was worth it. Natasha let go of Tony instantly but only to wrap her arms around your neck and waist, pulling you deeper. Wanda clapping and whooping pulled the two of you from your trance. Your cheeks were as red as Natasha's hair and even the unflappable Natasha Romanoff was slowly turning the same shade as her hair.

"God damn it y/n You couldn't have waited a week." Tony threw his hands up in exasperation, a teasing look in his eye.

"Of course not. Wands had to win."

"I don't care what this is about. Come on y/n I'm taking you on a proper date. Right after we change out of these clothes." Natasha grabbed me by the hand.

She then stopped abruptly, dropping your hand "That is, if you want to?"

You picked her hand back up, smiling at her "Of course I do."

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff fluff

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

Our Song (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Request: alyssa naehex reader thats set during quarantine w/ “Shy” by Alexander Stewart. I just kind of think it’s cute since she’s an introvert and that it would be fitting

Author’s Note: Speical Thanks To @literaryhedgehog

Alyssa knew she should just say it, that admitting it out loud would finally put an end to this madness. She ran a soothing hand through your hair when you sniffled loudly into her chest.

God, she should just tell you how she felt. But, she also didn’t want to overstep. That would make being roommates really awkward. Especially since neither of you were supposed to leave the apartment right now except for essential purchases. And she didn’t want to lose her best friend. That would really suck.

But she wasn’t afraid to say what no one else would- you had a terrible taste when it came to partners. You chose people who didn’t value you, and you always ended up hurt.

This time was no different, well, it was slightly different considering you couldn’t leave your shared apartment to cope like you normally would. Alyssa didn’t know if that was better or worse, considering that you had adapted your breakup routine to just be endless cuddles with her and your favorite stuffed animal.

She had already spent the last hour making comforting noises. You had stopped shedding tears 15 minutes ago, so Alyssa decided it was time to go for some humor. “Hey, so now you and Taylor Swift have something in common!”

“Hmm” You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes never leaving where Supergirl was playing on screen.

“Well, she was broken up with over text. You were broken up with over text. I think this is the perfect opportunity to listen to her re-recording of Fearless, and really channel those emotions!”

“No, Joe broke up with her in a 27-second phone call,” You lifted your head up off of her very comfortable chest to raise your eyebrow at the woman.

Alyssa was a great keeper, and amazing at crosswords, but she always needed your help when it came to Taylor trivia.

“Then Joe showed more consideration as an 18-year-old child than your 32 year old wanna be soccer star. It doesn’t change the fact that I think listening to Mr Perfectly Fine would be cathartic.”

“It’s kinda funny that she wrote Forever and Always, Mr. Perfectly fine, Better than Revenge and Holy Ground all about the same guy, they’re all so different from each other,” You mumbled, settling back down on her chest. At least she didn’t say that you had as many breakups as she did. That was a rude joke. (One Alyssa wouldn’t dare make. She was more cultured than the media asshats that chased your team around).

“Woman’s efficient,” Alyssa shrugged. “No reason why you can't recycle the same emotion into a different song genre.”

“At least she could make millions off her pain. All I seem to be able to do is kick the ball harder,” You grumbled. Your landlord complained about you practicing in the street because of how hard you sent the ball careening into his precious brick wall. It wasn’t your fault Alyssa was too slow to stop the PK.

“Darling, considering you’re one of the strongest kickers on the east coast, I’d say that pain is going to a worthwhile cause. But you do kind of have the worst taste in relationships.”

“Hey! Savannah wasn’t a bad choice, just bad timing,” You huffed indignantly.

“So that would be one out of…. How many bad relationships?”

“At least one for every Taylor Swift album,”

“Okay, here’s a fun idea, choose an ex for each album,” Alyssa said brightly. Thinking about music would definitely cheer you up. “Wannabe soccer star is obviously your Joe, so represents the Fearless album. Which relationship is your… Drew?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you said, already picking up your phone to add Teardrops on my Guitar to the music queue. You then quickly added Forever and Always and started scrolling through Speak Now for the next song inspiration.

Alyssa nodded. It was a well-known fact that you had a massive crush on one Hope Solo growing up, and you had been absolutely enamored with her the second you set foot into camp. But Alyssa also knew that Hope was very faithful to a certain veteran.

The veteran keeper had tried to let you down easy, and Kelley was still one of your best friends, but it had hurt in the moment.

“Kristie was my Haunted,” you said, smiling slightly. Dating her felt like a whirlwind, one that took your breath until you never thought it would end. She made butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you were so desperate to say the right thing, to be the perfect partner, that you always felt like you were walking a tightrope. Floating on air, but desperate to keep your balance. “At least she had the decency to wait until we were in the same city to end it.”

“Aren’t the two of you friends now?” Alyssa looked down at you, watching as you scrolled through songs from your comfortable place on her chest.

You nodded with a small smile. “Hmm, we are much better off that way anyway.”

“I bet you I can guess who your We are Never Ever Getting Back Together person is,” Alyssa trilled, reaching down to take the phone.

You playfully snatched it away from her. “Who’s to say I wasn’t going to choose I knew you were trouble?” You raised your eyebrow at the woman, who simply smirked in response.

“I can tell you who that is too if you like,” Alyssa reached for her own phone and took over control of the speakers, adding both songs to the music queue.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who?”

“You definitely knew Sam Kerr was trouble, and I think it took you 4 breakups with Leah to finally call it quits,”

“I was going to say Leah for 1989, it took me forever to realize how fucked up our relationship was after we finally broke up,”

“I’m sure the distance didn’t help.” With her in London and you in Chicago things just kind of fell apart.

“Maybe,” you hummed, noncommittally.

“Okay, so for Reputation. I’m thinking Don’t Blame Me,”

“You did go a bit crazy for Jane…” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. You had almost moved to Houston for that girl, thank god you didn’t. You sunburned like nobody's business.

“Oh come on. You just didn’t like the idea of me moving. And considering how long we had been dating at that point it did make sense!” You argued.

“It was 3 months Y/n,” She deadpanned.

“I was in a wlw relationship. That’s like practically three years, it’s not like I brought a u-haul to our first date.”

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up at you. “Didn’t you have one of those the first time we met?”

“Yeah, because I wasn’t moving into my college apartment without any furniture!”

“Whatever you say, babe. Who's your Folklore?” She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly.

“I think you skipped an album,” you said. This was weird because Lover was one of Alyssa’s favorite albums. “But, since you asked. I think Kelley is The 1.”

“Ah, our favorite squirrel,” Alyssa’s lips ticked up. You and Kelley had dated in college (something that should have made her jealous), but Kelley was the one pushing her to admit her feelings now.

“We were just too young and dumb,” you said, smiling. “We had a great time together, and it would have been fun if it worked out. But at some point we just realized, we were friends, but there wasn’t anything romantic there.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alyssa said, like a liar.

“I’m not. Her and Emily are like made for each other,” You snorted with the shake of your head. “And at least she wasn’t afraid of the world knowing we were together,”

“Well, yeah,” Alyssa smiled. She had loved seeing the way being publicly out with Kelley had brought out the best of you. “ Okay moving on! Next, we need to narrow down your No body, No Crime.”

“I take offense. Alex is still alive, so that doesn’t count,” You huffed.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I know you didn’t kill any of your significant others,” Alyssa said, laughing. “Though if you listened to the song you would know that’s my job… ”

“Alex was my Champagne Problems,” You mumbled sadly. That relationship had been the hardest for you, as had the breakup. She was terrified of the world even suspecting she wasn’t straight.

You had everything, except the freedom to be yourself, and In the end, you couldn’t take the hiding anymore.

“You did your best, love. But people come out at their own pace. And it was before Obergfell v. Hodges was decided. Being queer was still more likely to be presented as a scandal in the media then.”

“She cheated on me with Serv. She doesn’t get a pass,” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

“I’m pretty sure you were on a break dear,” Alyssa said, though she was inclined to agree with you. Being on a ‘break’ but not officially breaking up didn’t seem like a reason to start dating other people. Still getting over some of the semantics might theoretically help you move on. “BUT maybe we should move on. Who is your Lover?”

Your eyes squinted thoughtfully, a light pink shading your cheeks. “The only person who hasn’t ever left me is you. You let me leave the Christmas lights up until May and dance around the kitchen when you cook.”

Alyssa looked away, not able to meet your eyes. ”I mean, the lights can change color, so they can be thematic all year. And you’re the one who chooses the music to listen to while I cook. I can’t help it if they’re all great for dancing.”

“You can dance to anything. I’m pretty sure you turned a Hosier song into a salsa dance last week.” You giggled.

“The only person I dance with is you, Y/n,” Alyssa said, finally meeting your eyes. She could feel her body start shaking slightly, as the adrenaline kicked in. She was going to do it. She was going to tell you. “I don’t want to dance if I’m not dancing with you.”

“I’d dance with you in a storm in my best dress,”

“I have tried so hard to be supportive about your last several relationships. But seeing you dancing to your favorite song with anyone else… I’ve loved you for three years now and I couldn’t bear it.”

The air was suddenly charged between you, and you realized your faces were just inches apart. It was hard to breathe. You never dreamed your best friend would return your feelings (maybe that’s why you had so many bad relationships).

“Kiss me,” you breathed, slowly moving around so your heads were at the same level.

“That’s not a Taylor swift Lyric,” Alyssa said. In her brain, there was a loading sign currently whirring in little circles, as she attempted to process what you just said. Did you mean what she thought you said?

“Baby just say yes,” You said, feeling so happy that tears were coming to your eyes. You leaned forward getting inches from her face, so close you could feel her breath hitch. “Please kiss me.”

“Yes,” was all Alyssa had time to say before she closed the distance and kissed you.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #alyssa naeher imagine #alyssa naeher x reader

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blu-joons · 4 years

Text

They’re Your Ideal Type ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

“So, what was your ideal type?” Jin asked as the two of you sat and reminisced about the early days of your relationship.

You stared innocently across at him, “you really want to hear about it?”

“Of course,” he grinned, “I’ll tell you what my ideal type was if you tell me yours.”

“Honestly,” you sniggered, unable to bring yourself to look at him, “my ideal type was pretty much you. I wanted someone who laughed to laugh, didn’t take themselves to seriously, tall, a good cook, it’s like someone was looking down on me the day I bet you.”

Both of your cheeks turned a dark shade of red as Jin bit down on his lip to stop himself from teasing. “So, I’ve always been perfect in your eyes?”

“Well, I never said that” you joked, covering your cheeks with your hands. “But you were pretty close to perfection when I met you, and now that we’ve spent all these years together. Yeah, I’d say you’re the perfect one for me.”

“I always knew I’d be perfect for someone someday.”

Yoongi:

“What sort of guy are you looking for?” The guy across from you asked, taking a sip from his glass of wine with his eyes on you.

Instantly, you felt your cheeks burn up, “you’ll think I’m an idiot.”

“I won’t,” he assured you, “I’m always interested in what you saw in me that you like.”

“A lot,” you nervously informed him, watching his smile grow. “When I read through your profile on the dating app, there were a lot of things about you that I quite liked. We just seemed to have a lot in common, and physically you’re definitely my kind of guy.”

Your date couldn’t hide his own embarrassment as you sat and boosted his ego. “I’m glad that I could tick so many boxes for you.”

“They’re not easy boxes to fill,” you chuckled, shying away from him. “I’m quite fussy about who I date, I’ve had many dates where they’ve just not been what I thought. But something with you just feels different, I really like it.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, because so do I.”

Hoseok:

“Did you always fancy our Hobi?” You heard his aunt ask you from across the table, taking you slightly by surprise.

Your eyes looked across to Hobi, “of course. He’s my type, for sure.”

“What type is that?” She pushed, beginning to make you uncomfortable.

“He’s funny,” you began, despite Hobi letting you know that you didn’t have to answer. “He makes me laugh, which is the most important thing that makes a guy my type. He’s also incredibly handsome, and super sweet, that’s why he’s my type.”

Hobi’s eyes fell away from you as his cheeks reddened in front of his family. “I only ask because we only want the best for our Hobi.”

“I’ll always give him my best,” you assured her, trying hard to disguise your annoyance. “You don’t have to worry about me hurting him or anything, I’ve waited a long time to find my perfect match, but I think I’ve found it in him.”

“And I’ve definitely found mine in Y/N too.”

Namjoon:

“What do you actually see in Namjoon?” Jungkook teased as you sat to dinner, “he’s definitely punching dating you Y/N.”

Your head shook in response, “I’m definitely the one who is punching here.”

“How?” Jimin laughed in disbelief, “what can someone even find so good in Namjoon.”

“How long do you have?” You quizzed, resting your hand over Namjoon’s. “He’s got an incredibly smart brain, he’s tall, creative, three of the most important things I look for in any guy. That’s the good that I find in Namjoon, and there’s a lot more too.”

Namjoon proudly smiled as you managed to silence the rest of the group. “It’s really so obvious how single and jealous you all are.”

“I’m sure you’ll be the ideal type for someone,” you told them all, looking around the group. “Namjoon will probably sit and wonder what a girl may see in you too. But this one is my type, even if he might not be for the rest of you.”

“He’s very lucky to have someone like you Y/N.”

Jimin:

“Did you always have an eye on me?” Jimin asked, intertwining his hand with yours as you began to settle down to sleep.

Your head nodded gently, “the minute I saw you, you had my full attention.”

“Out of all of them guys?” He asked, “but the club was so busy that night. It’s impossible.”

“I’m being serious,” you answered, curling up into his chest. “I took one look at you and that smile of yours and I knew you were the one. You were just my ideal type, you stood out to me more then anyone else did in the club that night, by far.”

His smile grew, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I thought I’d just spilt my drink or something because you stared at me so much.”

“It was because I liked you,” you laughed, hiding your face in his neck, “I still like you a lot. That’s probably why I knew when I looked at you that I’d have to go over and say hi. I wasn’t going to let someone like you go anywhere.”

“I’m pretty relieved that you didn’t either too.”

Taehyung:

“You’re seriously telling me after all these years, I’ve always been your ideal type?” Taehyung blushed from across the table.

Your head nodded immediately, “it’s not a lie, even in school I fancied you.”

“But I’ve changed so much,” he protested, “has there really never been a point where that stopped?”

“Just because you make a few changes doesn’t stop you from being my ideal type,” you reminded him, “it doesn’t change your personality or your basic looks. Eleven-year-old me fancied you, just as much as I do nowadays too.”

His head shook, feeling his cheeks flush. “I just always imagined that there would be a point where you thought I wasn’t your type.”

“That’s never been the case,” you quickly assured him, “dying your hair or changing up your style doesn’t alter the person that you are, you’re still the Taehyung I fell in love with at school, that will never change.”

“I guess if you love each other, nothing will change that.”

Jungkook:

“Don’t you think tall, dark and handsome is such a stereotype?” Jungkook asked you as you continued to watch the main character in the film.

Your head turned back to look at him, “it’s quite a common type. Why, do you?”

“That’s what your type was, wasn’t it?” He laughed, noticing how defensive you got.

“There’s a reason I’m with you,” you blushed, feeling his arms snake around your waist. “There’s just something about men that have those features that I can’t explain. I bet there’s plenty of girls that would have you written down as their ideal type.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide his smile as you continued to talk. “I never really imagined myself as your ideal type, I didn’t think that was a thing.”

“Neither did I, until I met you,” you responded, feeling his lips rest against your forehead. “It was only when I met you, that I realised I do have a type. You’re tall, dark haired, and you just so happen to be very handsome too.”

“That’s something you can tell me again and again.”

---

Masterlist

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stylistiquements · 4 years

Text

There was the silence and there were the stars | Corpse husband x reader -Among Us AU

Among us AU : There was something. Something in the silence and the harsh coldness -that only space was capable of- that turned your brain into a sarcastic and bored mess. Maybe that’s why you found yourself so interested by any sabotage pulled on the crewmates, maybe that’s what made him so interesting to witness. He was different from the rest of you. Different to an extend you were about to understand.

❚ Word count : 4.2k ❚ Warning : A bit angsty but you will get that fluffity fluff and touch starve feeling you require I promise ; swearing ❚ Note : there will be no mention of death or killing as it is basically a real life Among us, just some shenanigans. Y/C : your/color

A/N : This little thing was inspired by -⭐️ anon. It was a fun thing to write even though it took me way too long because I asked my brain “sir may I pls have the focus capacity I need” and brain said no (: so yeah, this is litteraly just me ranting n complaining about space. This is a bit angsty but as what if is way too happy for me that was a nice opportunity. I hope you won’t mind and appreciate it anyway. As always just let me know. As it’s my first time writing like a one shot thingy I’m really curious to know. Also it’s supposed to be proofread but if you find any mistake just take ur glasses off. Thanks. Enjoy the wild ride.

You met him again. He was fixing wires while you were downloading some files on the computer. Difficulties happened regularly around here; various oddities that occurred from time to time, sometimes a few times a day. It would go from doors closing mysteriously to no electricity, you never knew which one it would be. Those inconveniences used to draw a smile on your lips, a grin you tried your best to hide from everyone else. The sound of the urging siren resounded in your head like a call, reviving the last spared spark left in your brain. At this point, you were pretty sure it was one of your crewmates’ doing, too many coincidences for any other options to be left. You didn’t mind though. The game started months ago but still amused you to this day.

He never let a word escape his mouth. To your awareness, no one knew anything about him, no one had ever heard the sound of his voice which you could only dare to imagine since the two of you met. It felt silly, you fabricated this voice inside your head, a half-finished melody you played to keep your mind busy. It would have sounded just as an old piano would. So slightly out of tune that maybe, if you didn’t care enough or wished for it not to be true, you wouldn’t even notice.

You called him black. It resonated with the color of his suit and the darkness that emanated from his soul. Not that he looked like a mischievous character, but rather like someone who would have been gnawed by life for years. A shade that reminded you of the bittersweet feeling 4 AM forced you to taste. Describing that presentiment was a challenge you couldn’t take. It was one of those things that had to be felt, not narrated.

Shit.

He caught you staring again. How could you look any other way? There was something with him that appealed to you, that pulled your eyes toward his direction every time. Probably only a peak of unwarranted curiosity you couldn’t really be blamed for, probably the oh-so mysterious aura that floated so carelessly around him. He always had this way of sneaking in and out, just as if he was nothing but his own shadow.

Yet, being near him was easy. Silence only felt comfortable when he was in your surroundings. The whole world stopped existing -and it had in fact since the first day you two met.

He had dark charcoal hair which fell so perfectly in curly strands around the two horns that crowned over his head. Paired with two ruby hued eyes, he truly was a sight for sore eyes. A wicked and breathtaking beauty, so unique it gave you the impression that he wasn’t even human.

He used to hop in a vent after finishing his tasks. As if his true home was there; a secret hideout for him and him only. You didn’t even know it was a thing before you watched it with your own eyes. Who wouldn’t blame him. If you could have escaped that warmth deprived place too, even for 5 minutes, you would have.

That’s why you never asked any question about it nor tried to investigate further. Being stuck in space was only a kid’s fantasy, nothing a fully conscious adult would inflict to themselves. Which, in itself, was pretty much self-explanatory about everyone’s mental condition in here.

It was also a pre-established rule, no questions. No one ever expressed it out loud, but you would have to be a fool not to guess it. Every crewmate grew accustomed to the deadly silence only space had to offer. A giant timeless hole where nothing really happened. With nothing but the smell of technology and the constant purr of engines as the only distractions left. See, living in a spaceship was no ordinary lifestyle : days and nights melted into each other until it became nothing but a groundless concept. The crewmates perceived it as comforting for some reason. You used to shrug it off, no questions. How unethical would you be to disturb their peace?

If you had to be honest, you would probably say that you felt bad for Black. Nothing like pity, but being alone in this stark and brutal silence for this long must have been pretty life-consuming. That’s why, even though it made your cheeks and the tip of your ears flame up in a raw and unforgivable tint of pink, you always kept looking into his eyes for one more second after he noticed you. Just to be sure he knew that he wasn’t alone in this shit hole. You stared into the depth of those ruby eyes, hunting for silent answers to questions you weren’t even sure of in the first place. He never quivered, only stood motionless until his task was completed. Just locking the eye contact. After that, he always ran away as silently as he existed. Leaving your head disturbingly empty.

Every single time.

Something changed one day. You were about to prepare some test samples when it happened. He jumped off a vent and you followed his movements from the corner of your eyes, too distracted to remember about the task that was assigned to you. He ran to the door and proceeded to shut it. Within the last second, the one that always lasted hours, he put an index in front of his mouth. Silently asking for you not to say a word. And before the steel door could obstruct your vision completely, you noticed a smile on his lips. A smile that made the whole spaceship turn inside out, draining the blood out of your body in a painstaking, almost sore way. There you stood, intoxicated by stupefaction and trapped as a cat.

Black mutated you into a self-depreciating joke : in here, you were only interestied in the impostor. The only one who made your day a little better was the one giving nightmares to the others.

It was him, from the beginning. It was him and he smiled. A grin that twinkled maliciously from his lips to his eyes, wounding your heart in an insoluble way. It made every prejudice you had about him crumble : he was no longer that miserable existence you sensed he was but a quiescent sun that could radiate all around him once unleashed into the world. How did he do that? How could he be both the tunnel and the light at the end of it?

When red came to the rescue, she described you with a glare. She judged you in the not-so-pleasant way. You could always count on those glares to know their opinions about you. Because their judgment would have to be expressed one way or another. She thought you looked suspicious, with your half poured concoction into a hand and the rest of it in the other, just staring blankly into the void. You wouldn’t blame her for that.

It stuck with you for days, filling your empty mind with the sight of a smile that could no longer be experienced. The scene shamelessly repeated itself in your mind until it became nothing but a progression of disassembled images, forcing you to taste the astonishment over and over again. The problem was, you hadn’t seen him for days. And, even though you wanted to know what happened, you couldn’t ask. That was the rule.

What would you say anyway ? Black is the imposter and I watched him close medbay’s door ? Yeah, I don’t think so. You should have stopped him in the first place -and you would have if you weren’t just mesmerized.

So, you took each day -or night … or piece of time, whatever you wanted to call it since it was no longer existent- with composure. Forcing yourself to do any task with a meticulousness that didn’t look like you. Just to make sure your brain was busy enough not to think about it or him. Being trapped in a place and being trapped in your own mind are two different wrestles, yet in here those two intertwined perfectly. Just like the rest of it, it didn’t even make any sense : the guy smiled at you for ten seconds and here you were, an absolute clutter of questions and recollection. You were probably just too bored and he, as always, was the perfect distraction. That must have been it, right?

You walked in admin. Your heart skipped a beat before your eyes could process who stood in front of them.

Look what the cat dragged in.

His hair twirled flawlessly above his face, almost hiding a grimace that indicated so transparently his mind. You leaned against the door frame and crossed your arms, unabashedly watching him as he swiped his card frantically while sighting heavily every time that “bip” of failure rang.

Eventually, he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. You tried anyway, staring at him as if he was some sort of work of art that needed to be decrypted. From the way his chest moved heavily under the pressure of the irritation to the way his glowing eyes witnessed you. This expression on his face gave him a funny look, a scowl which made the laugh that tickled your throat hard to hold back.

“Y-you have to do it slower. Otherwise, it won’t work” you stuttered. “I guess it’s harder since …”

You walked to him carefully, so carefully you forgot your words. Just as if he was a wild animal who could run away if scared. Making sure no step would fall out of line. He was so close, so close, maybe if you tried to catch him this time he would stop running away.

“Since it’s not my job, right ? Is that what you were about to say ?” he asked with a low voice, a voice you would have never dared to picture for him. Not the broken tone you pictured but a melody so sweet and so unique it felt like it was made just for your ears to enjoy, taunting you to dive into his mind.

“Do you need help” ?

“I- hum- You’re not supposed to help me, you know ?” he stuttered, visibly amused, judging by the way his eyes wrinkled under his smile.

“Are you gonna lock me in the room once again ?” He shook his head as a chuckle escaped from his lips. “Then who cares” you finally breathed.

Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you grabbed the card. You tried to appear unbothered, hoping so intensely for the swipe to be a first try success. That way, maybe he wouldn’t notice the way you breathed heavily under the weight of your pounding heart. But those red eyes piercing through the depth of your soul were hardly bearable for those like you who suffered from unbeknownst afflictions.

You grew aware of his every move, the way those eyes fell on you, the perfume that emanated from his skin, the sound of his slow yet noticeable respiration.

You gave him his card back and he captured your fingers in the palm of his hand, making it impossible for you to escape his grip. Hiding those blushing cheeks from a sight that seemed to see everything was a defiance only the proudest people would be capable of. It wasn’t your case, but you counted on preserving the last sane cells left in your body.

“Your secret is safe with me.” You whispered, avoiding any eye contact.

“I know that.”

A simple answer that would never be enough to satisfy you. Yet, before you could review the best option of an answer, he left. Just as he always did, he walked away silently -still this time it seemed to last an eternity- while you just stood there inertly as you watched his black silhouette disappear into the endless gray hallways.

You finally caught the breath you had been holding this whole time. Leaning over, you observed your reflection into the screen of the digital tablet as you rubbed your hands together, hoping for that strange spike of electricity that ran through your fingers to fade away quickly. A mess.

“There you are, Corpse” green said as he sat cross-legged in black’s secret place “I’ve been looking for you.”

Corpse was the name green chose for Black, feeling like it would be the most suitable image for the one who always worked in the shadow. Not the most refined nickname, yet black ironically related to that. Silent as a Corpse, he thought. A level of sarcasm that amused him and which probably led to him immediately falling in love with it.

Corpse observed the little sprout on the top of Green’s head. It floated lightly and followed his every move. What a little freak. Just a thing deprived of any sort of self consciousness, out of this world just like he felt he was. Corpse remained fixated on it, hoping he could get as self-aware as it was. The last impromptu reunion he had with you was nothing he had planned, nothing that should have happened. He wouldn’t exactly call it a mistake and still, he had no one else but him to blame.

“Did something happened with y/c ? You seem a little flustered.” Green asked, pulling Corpse out of his overflowed mind.

“I don’t know, I think I kinda fucked up.” He replied with a shrug. “I’ve been spotted.”

“Was it really a mistake ?”

Green was the only one who was granted with the privilege of learning how to understand Corpse. Because, deep inside, they grew up to be the same kind : the kind that didn’t belong here. Two sides of the same coin.

Green’s social intelligence, on the other hand, Black didn’t like it that much. Thanks to that guy, he would be able to work comfortably in the darkness, where no one could see him, but it also meant that he saw clearly what was going through Corpse’s mind. Actually, it didn’t take him too long.

What was the surprise when he realized it was you who lived rent-free in his thoughts? See, in Corpse’s eyes you were different from the others : too conscious about the reality that happened before yours eyes. It made you interesting to observe. What a delightful sight it was to watch you rolling your eyes in your crewmates’ face, to notice the serious look you had when you were focused on a task, the way your eyes sparkled every time a new sabotage was made. He wouldn’t track you, yet he would never resist a peek once your paths crossed. It happened often, more than you actually realized.

Yet, Corpse was no fool. You and him never belonged together. You were destined to a bright destiny and he was the obscurity. That’s why he was more than careful not to get too close, not to see his bare mind get burnt under the exposition of those peculiar feelings in the pit of his stomach.

That’s why his previous reaction made no sense to him. But what could he say? You took him aback when those words were directed at him. You made his short-circuited brain unable to be sensible anymore. He just wanted to know what your touch would feel like under his fingers. Why was his skin blazing with electricity now ?

Corpse swallowed it all. From the blossoming feeling inside his body and mind to the warmth and the softness of your skin. He couldn’t feel that way. “I’m not really sure.” he finally said, as honest as he could be with himself.

He would spend his next few days planning with Green, cornering you to a small part of his brain. You couldn’t be there, you had no right to be. The game was progressing faster than they anticipated it. It made him thrilled, accepting the challenge no one but the two of them could bear.

However, a new unwanted seed grew into his mind. The idea that, maybe, you were only by his side in this game. That, maybe he would never be able to witness your existence in the real world.

“Have you ever noticed how weird the stars look sometimes ?” Corpse asked as he joined navigation. You jumped and your mind turned into a scattered place stuck between a task you battled to achieve and the proximity left between the two of you. Your heart beat in rhythm with his echoing, never ending footsteps. Still you had, indeed, noticed. “It’s like they’re not even real” you answered with a smile that made your voice higher. A melodic lift that betrayed your intention of ever finishing your job.

When you finally looked at him, his lips moved into a satisfied curve. Shivers tickled your arms and your neck. Maybe because he was just standing so perfectly still in front of the glass window. So perfectly still that, among all those celestial bodies, he appeared to be the most beautiful one. “Mind keeping me company for a bit?” Your mouth betrayed you when the question escaped your grip. But Corpse snorted faintly and shook his head.

“From all the people in here you want to spend time with me ? That’s probably not your wisest decision.” He said as he tried to muffle a high pitch laugh with a hand that covered his mouth.

See, that’s the words he had been afraid of since the first time he saw you. The words he would have to turn into derision since he knew he would have no strength to refuse. Yet, you stood there with those glimmering eyes and those eyebrows that arched in a strange manner, cutting every single inch of air out of his lungs. Even if he wanted to say no -and he should- he wouldn’t have been able to.

It was never meant to happen, not judging by your two so hostily opposed nature. Fuck that shit. Who cared about that speech when you were here and you were so beautiful?

You moved closer to him, a strenuous and slow tense that shouldn’t be disregarded. You’ve had seen the same scenery for months yet never it made you feel the same way as you did at that very moment. Because those balls of lights floating into the void shimmered in his ruby hued iris just as a dozen of fireflies would. He made your world a little blurry, narrowed to his presence at your side.

“You forgave me really easily the last time we met.” He noticed. “That’s a little sus if you asked me.”

“Well, what can I say ? You’re the only distraction I have left, so I’m not really in the position to hold grudges.” You shrugged sarcastically.

“You’re really funny, I have to concede that” he said as his smile made its way to his eyes.

Your brutally honest words intertwined with his chuckles and crewmates never heard the spaceship as lively as that time. That time when you got to discover who Corpse really was. A man who hid his blooming existence behind a silence.

“Why did you stay silent this whole time ?” You dared to ask before the silence fell upon the two of you, a silence that maybe you wouldn’t be able to endure this time.

“Because I never wanted to lie”

“I- ...hum- there’s really nothing I could say against that, right ?”

With every grin, every chuckle, every abrupt eye contact, your proximity kept embedding his mind a little deeper until you stole the stars’ show completely. It’s no good, you held his breath hostage when he realized he could feel the warmth stemming out of your skin. So tempted to get closer and witness it with further clearness.

Thus, he lifted a hand that starved connection. He tried to close the gap between your two touches so prudently, so discreetly that you didn’t even notice. A touch, that would go beyond his movement, more like a proof he needed to make sure someone like you really existed in a shithole like this.

He was so close.

Yet, the alarm rang before he could embrace the object of his desire. “Better check that out quickly” you said with a sigh. Somehow, it felt peculiar just knowing that, this time, you were the one running away. A sense of some sort of joke played by space. As if space hadn’t done enough. When Green cut the communication, he couldn’t realize -If only he knew the double meaning of that sabotage. Ah, the irony of it all.

“I’ll see you soon” Corpse informed you, more of a promise than a farewell and he stayed there long enough, staring numbly at his hand.

You ran until the communication room, holding this bittersweet feeling on the tip of your tongue. You tried to swallow it and almost found yourself praying that no one would arrive before you could. This way, maybe your fugue would make more sense.

Blue was already sitting on the floor, trying to find the good frequencies. “I’m already on it.” she said on a plain, monotone voice. Of course, she fucking would be.

Now what was left to do ? Corpse was probably already gone and-and the silence … the silence had returned. A dead, cold, cruel silence. It tested out your nerves, built up some pressure down your throat that made keeping your composure barely possible. Corpse slipped between your fingers again. The game was no longer a funny and pleasant diversion from the plain, austere daily life you had. You grew tired of that cat and mouse game. You just wanted him.

After going back to the oh-so empty navigation room, you completed your tasks. And you were finally done. You wandered around for hours, days -who knows-, searching for a purpose.

The game was coming to an end, you could feel it. Something in the air changed, it became dryer than ever. Unbearable on your skin that ached for something you couldn’t apprehend. The crewmates were agitated, everyone kept running around day and night just to make sure the last tasks would be completed as soon as possible. New difficulties were triggered almost as soon as the last ones ended. Chaos.

Just as if he wasn’t ready to end the game so soon, as if he didn’t want to get the hell out of this place as much as you did. From time to time, you almost found yourself eager to ignore the alarm. Taunting him one last time by neglecting his call.

Maybe that way he would show up, maybe that way he would stay with you. Yeah, maybe that way he would stop being nothing but an ephemeral being that almost made you wonder if you finally gave up on your mind to the silence. Because at that moment he only felt like a chimera your brain created to protect you. Because you were just so fucking bored.

You gave up on that idea, turning on the CCTV as you sighed. Just to see more colorful suits running around, trying to hold their shit together for what appeared to be the ultimate hour. Despite all the sabotages, it seemed like your number made your strength. You imagined Corpse’s face, probably piqued. A dark frown covering his pretty eyes. It made your lips twitch for a second. Who knew it would end this way ? Definitely not you.

Yet that amused smile faded away when you heard the familiar sound of the door closing, locking you in yet another time. You rolled your eyes and turned around, unprepared to witness who locked themselves with you. His body laid against the door, guarding it as his chest moved frenetically under the weight of his rushing breath.

“This is the end” he whispered frantically under his breath. He doesn’t look as worried as you thought he would, but it didn’t matter. You moved impulsively toward him, never stopping until he snaked a hand around your waist and slipped the other one in your back. That way, this time, there were no escape.

He let his head rest in the hollow of your neck, soaking the divine and comforting warmth you had to offer. His warm breath on your skin sent shivers through your body which responded by squeezing him a little tighter, holding him as close to your heart as humanly possible. You could feel his, beating so fast.

“This is the end.” His whisper grounded on your skin.

He lifted his head to dive into your eyes with the same sweet smile you offered him. The one which expressed the happiness, the relievment it felt to embrace him.

“If it were for you, I would do it all over again.” You said, pressing your forehead against his, sharing a breath as you closed your eyes. One last attempt to memorize everything about him. You sensed his smile, so wide you didn’t even have to look at it to see. He left a trail of kisses on your cheeks and your hand wandered in his hair as a faint gasp escaped your lips.

Corpse looked back at you. And then, as his thumb drew light circles on your cheek. With glowing eyes that translated all the adoration he felt for you, he whispered “Maybe it was just meant to be”. And then, he closed the distance between the two of you, brushing your lips softly at first before capturing them completely once he was sure you felt the same way as he did. A kiss that tasted like 4AM and home.

“I’ll find my way back to you, my love. I’ll find you in the real world.” He promised.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #among us au #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse scenario #corpse imagine #corpse among us #corpse fluf #corpse angst

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Step two

Sorry for the vanishing! I was out with friends for a two days. Because of this, this particular part is a little less edited because I’m exhausted, but! I will post!

Previous part: here

First part: here

Good progress was made in a rather short time after that first night, Illumi felt, but he still had a pretty big issue when it came to more personal matters. Mainly, it was the fact that he struggled to adjust to the life of an impoverished man. He couldn't cook at all, he had no idea how to do laundry, and sleeping in his relatively cheap bed was awful for a conductive rest. That wasn't even touching the fact that being alone without a butler or maid truly revealed how messy he was, his clothes scattered around or piled up to await washing he couldn't provide, snack wrappers here and there, the trash verging into overflowing territory before he bothered to take it out, which wouldn't have been so bad if his goal was not to consequentially get you into his bed, and according to his mother, women weren't keen on sleeping in a dirty bed no matter the charm of the man. However, that matter was for later, on a more cheerful note, he felt he was making relatively good progress with you. Such good progress, in fact, that he had landed a date to a restaurant with you already.

The restaurant was a bit cheap, small, with a very unrefined sort of aesthetic through out, but you had said you enjoyed it, and it was an opportunity to see you dressed up a bit for him. Maybe this is why Father takes Mother out on her demanded dates. he mused while he sat outside in the cool evening air of (f/r) waiting for you in the best 'poor' clothes he had in his closet. He continued to think about his situation until he heard you snort, making him whip his head towards you, eyes beginning to narrow, "Illumi?" you said with a bit of amusement "um, you look very nice, but this isn't the type of place that deserves that type of outfit." you pointed out, gesturing to the dress pants and button up shirt with a tie. In contrast, you had on a rather nice dress, maybe with some leggings, appreciated by the assassin if so, that wasn't super flashy, making Illumi stand out among the other casually dressed customer. "oh. This is the only sort of nice clothes I have." he explained, and he didn't know how to feel about your giggle in response just yet. "Maybe after our...d-date," you turned an adorable shade of pink when you admitted what this outing was, "you can look into buying some less proper clothes." you suggested, and even he had to admit it came off a bit more suggestive or rude than you most likely meant. "S-sorry, that sounded weird." you muttered, your face staying a slightly darker pink this time as you turned your eyes to the sidewalk. Illumi simply smiled, "It's fine, (y/n), let's just go eat." he suggested, and you were quick to agree, letting him lead you into the restaurant. The date was going well in Illumi's mind, though he could about feel the tension rolling off of you in the silence. I guess on a date it's a bit weird to simply sit there in silence. he mused, than remembered his intention with this date, so he began asking you questions about yourself. Admittedly, he was a bit stiff about it, but you seemed to relax little by little as the two of you spoke. It seemed that his slightly off and awkwardly blunt nature worked in his favor as well, since you were soon giggling and smiling at Illumi's 'obliviousness' when his words could come off as different and sometimes more inappropriate than he meant, and the ebony haired assassin decided he enjoyed your laugh, slipping in a few double entendre here and there on purpose to fluster you and make you giggle more. Your laugh was quite pleasing to hear, which was good because he needed a wife who wouldn't be super annoying, wouldn't be demanding of him, and wouldn't require going out of the Zoldyck estate a lot. From how you were so reclusive, he trusted that you'd not want to head into town a lot or down the mountain. She'll most likely hide herself away a lot too, making the biggest obstacle intercourse, but if push comes to shove I can tie her down. He thought while the two of you ate, but then he realized something, Wait, if she's so reclusive because of sexual trauma, tying her down and taking her by force could push her over the edge. I'll need to figure out if her habits are innocent , or trauma related. From there I can plan accordingly. He decided, looking at you with his dark eyes as you ate, attempting to read your body language for hints, but than you spoke out of the blue, "Um, Illumi? Are...you alright?" Your voice was tinged with caution and...discomfort, maybe it was some sort of physical trauma that made you so shut off from the world? He'd have to think on that idea, "Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. I was simply admiring your pretty face," he said, grinning at the wave of red that overtook your body in response. You were deliciously easy to fluster. Wooing her must be a simple task, he thought to himself while you cleared your throat, "Um...could I ask you a question?" Your voice was meek, uncertain, making the assassin's heart squeeze with excitement while he nodded, "uh, sorry if this is rude, but why are your eyes like that?" The question was a bit out of the blue, and his silence seemed to convey that seeing how you instantly tried to backpedal, "How are my eyes odd?" he asked, not letting you change the subject, "I dunno, they just seem...kinda dead." you pointed out, and he nodded, "Ah, I can see why that may seem weird, but I don't have a reason for why my eyes seem...dead, they've been like this my whole life," he explained, making sure to add a casual, not-offended lilt to his voice to hopefully quell your remorseful, anxious aura. You nodded, "I-I still think they are very pretty eyes, uh, very hypnotic almost...kinda..." you fumbled before a short, tense silence seemed to fall between the two of you while Illumi slowly blinked and hummed, watching you with his dark, owlish eyes. Finally, you changed the subject awkwardly. Your social ineptitude was so alluring to him, and so fun to aggravate like some sort of wound. Once the food was gone, he picked back up on the conversation, continuing to learn about you and flirt until it was time to pay and take you home. As the two of you walked down the street though, he decided to ask, "(y/n), would it be rude to ask why you don't seem to go outside a lot?" He did his best to phrase it gently, just in case it was a trauma response, listening to your explanation. If it was something to do with a dark part of your past, no matter for the assassin, he simply decided to end whoever hurt you or their loved ones, but if it was little more than you being an introverted, naturally skittish woman, he was ecstatic. If you were just not very social on your own, he had fewer things to avoid in terms of successfully wooing you, which was such a relief to him, plus, he could easily work on your social awkwardness, so that in itself wasn't even an issue. When the two of you reached your home, he kissed your cheek, "I hope you enjoyed your night," he hummed, doing his best to ensure he had his charm lacing each word, which came off as slightly suggestive but he was fine with that. "I did, so, um, maybe some other time...we could do this again?" you offered, attempting to match the flirtatious tone he had, making the assassin smile slightly despite the awkwardness of your attempt. "I'd enjoy that. It gives me a reason not to try cooking for myself," he pointed out, making you laugh slightly, "Glad I could be of help tonight than." With that, he took the chance and leaned down and kissed you pretty quickly, watching your (e/c) eyes widen for a moment before you became a flustered mess for the umpteenth time that night. You swiftly said good night and scurried into your home, leaving the tall man outside in the cool spring night. He stood there for a moment, debating whether or not he should sneak into your home again, but deciding not to. He instead headed back to his house and contemplated what to do for the next date.

#yandere illumi #x reader #yandere #Illumi x reader #Illumi zoldyck #fanfiction #quotev #part 7 #hxh #hunter x hunter

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Can I request minato x fem uzumaki s/o fic prompt 63? I think this prompt will with suit an uzumaki s/o. Thank you 😊

You and your Uzumaki s/o😂. But hey, I love it anyways. Before someone asks, the s/o will have red hair in here since many members of the Uzumaki clan have red hair.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, clinginess

Prompt 63: “Your hair is so soft and silky.”

You were by all means not a morning person, not a terrible one at least. You enjoyed laying for a few moments longer in the soft bed, basking in the warmth and the softness of the sheets and the mattress. And of course whilst being able to cuddle with your lovely husband Minato. He was sadly most of the time busy, working as the Hokage was not easy to do and you knew he hated leaving you alone for too long.

But he had to do it and you encouraged him whenever you could, visiting him in his office to hopefully cheer his day up a bit, which you always did, and always doing your best to shower him in as much affection as you were comfortable with. It never failed to lift his mood and especially on extremely tiring or bad days you knew it would help him extremely to receive some affection which he always gladly returned.

For the most time you were confident in saying that you lived a good life, you had your husband and you had your bestie Kushina who had been sent together with you to the life many years ago. You had been friends even before that and with time you two had grown so incredibly close that both of you saw each other as sisters, though you weren't related.

She was pretty much one of the very few persons Minato didn't feel that jealous off when you were spending time with her instead of him, he trusted her as a good friend of his and Kushina made sure that he was treating you well, though she trusted him just as much.

Because as much as you loved him, he was maybe just the tiniest bit too clingy and needy when it came to certain things. Sometimes it was more cute and sweet than it was annoying, but you had your moments where you simply weren't in the mood for all the jealousy and the clinginess of him. He was a grownup, the Hokage and sometimes it was a bit annoying to have him clinging to you, essentially when you had talked to other men in the village or spent too much time with someone else. Those were moments that never failed to make him feel jealous and afterwards he always wanted a bit more attention.

And this didn't stop just there, even when you two were alone it happened fairly often that he refused to let you leave him, you guessed because he was due to his job not able to spend that much time with you like he would have liked, though you knew he was responsible and wouldn't lose focus whilst doing what had to be done. But that also implied that whenever he had some free time, he would spend it with you. This morning happened to be one of this moments.

"Minato! I really have to get up now!", you insisted, trying to free yourself from the two arms currently wrapped around your waist, pulling you with a sudden jerk back into the bed, pressing you successfully closer to the man currently refusing to let you leave the bed. "I don't want you to. Why are you so fixed on leaving already? Stay with me.", you heard him whining whilst he pressed his head into the crook of your neck, your red hair falling over his face.

You let out a slightly annoyed sigh, though not finding it in your heart to be truly mad at him right now. You were used to this. "Dear, I know that this is pretty unfortunate, especially considering that today you have a bit more time and I promise I will spend the whole rest of the day with you. But I have to meet someone today. It's pretty important and we promised to meet in about an hour. I really have to leave now and dress myself up."

You had hoped that this explanation would work, but you had forgotten the jealousy strike of your husband for a short moment. "Who do you have to meet?" You were sure that there had been this certain dislike in his voice, though you weren't too sure since he had grumbled it more, still feeling a bit sleepy. "I have to meet a jonin called Aki. I don't know if you know him or not, but I really have to make myself ready now."

You yanked frustrated on those well built arms, still keeping you in place. As much as you would love to do some morning cuddling with Minato right now, you had something important to talk out with the jonin.

"Why do you want to meet another man? And why now? You know that I have today a few hours off and that I want to spend them with you. What do you even plan on talking about with him?"

This was ridiculous. You had a grownass man clinging onto your hip and whining for you to cuddle with him, a legendary jonin and the Fourth Hokage of Konohagakure. The Yellow Flash of the Leaf, feared by everyone. But you guessed everyone would have rubbed their eyes when seeing this. Everyone except Kushina and the Third maybe since they knew that Minato could become more immature and childish when it came to you.

"Minato! Seriously, act like an adult and let me finally go! I have to talk with that guy about an important mission that I'm assigned too! He wanted me on his team! We need to go over the details, that's all! And if you would just finally let go, I could get over with it quickly!"

You angrily shoved with all your might against him, by now you were nearly about to start a fight if this would continue any longer. "A mission?", Minato repeated after you, looking like he was remembering something before his whole face seemed to drop. It had you tilting your head a bit confused, wondering what had him being so shocked all of a sudden.

"Mina, is everything alright?", you asked him, the sudden change of look on his face was confusing you. "That mission...is for one month. If everything goes right that is." , he started talking slowly, goung over the facts. "Well...yes. That's what Aki told me. Apparently an A-ranked mission as well, in another country. He said that he was still missing one member for his team and he thought I would make a good fit.", you explained everything you knew, wondering if the long distance between you and him was what made him so uneasy.

"And you are...the only woman on that team. In a foreign land. On an A-ranked mission.", he continued, looking like he had just heard something horrible. "...Pardon me?!" Oh no, he was not jealous because you would be a whole month under men, was he? "Do not tell me that you are worried because I will be the only woman on that goddamn mission! Minato, what am I? A small and weak girl who can't protect herself? I'm jonin for a reason so you better belive that I am able to defend myself! No matter if it's someone from my own team or from the enemies! You should really trust me more! You know I love you and would never leave you."

You let out an angry huff of air, blowing a few strands of hair away that had fallen over your face. You were a bit out of breath after the small shouting session, feeling a bit more cooled down now. "It's not you who I distrust, it's just everyone else.", you heard the blonde man mumble quietly, still holding tightly onto you.

"They're shinobi from this village so for the love of god, have more faith that they won't try anything with the wife of the Hokage.", you complained, attempting to free yourself again, although you slowly gained the feeling that you might miss the meeting with Aki due to a very clingy husband. Would that count as an excuse? It didn't sound like one.

"How can you know that they won't try anything? You're so pretty and I won't be there. They might use that chance to flirt with you. And next to that I don't want to get you hurt." He didn't seem to take you seriously, currently stuck in his own jealousy and protectiveness.

"Please just stay with me and let me assign someone else for that team. I won't be able to have you so long seperated from me without knowing what might happen."

He sounded like he was begging you by now and you had temporarily stopped struggling, deciding to safe your energy for later. You weren't in the mood to start a fight after all, not when Minato was currently being in a very annoying way cute like this, whining for you to stay. He wouldn't let you go anyways, you were sure of that. So with a long sigh you let yourself just fall back into bed, right back into Minato's arms who took you all too gladly back now that you weren't struggling anymore, pressing you closer to him and nuzzling his head once again in your head, his breath tickling you a bit.

"Your hair is so soft and silky.", you heard him saying whilst one of his hands moved up a bit to play with a few strands of your red hair, admiring what made the Uzumaki clan differ from others and what had brought you durig your younger years so much bullying. In that point you and Kushina had a weak spot. Getting complimented because of your hair.

"Mina, you're such a charmer, you know that?", you giggled whilst placing your hands around his shoulders, closing the last bit of gape between you two and placing a kiss on his forehead, noticing amused that his ears had turned a bit red which they always did when he felt happy and flattered, most likely when he was able to convince you into giving him affection.

You shook your head amused a bit, starting to run your own fingers through his blonde hair, making his ears turn a deeper shade of red and causing him to snuggle even closer to you, wanting all affection you could possibly give him right now instead of going to meet some man who could have any kind of thoughts when seeing you. "Just what exactly did I do to deserve you?", he sighed, loving the feeling of you caressing his hair like this.

"Sometimes I'm asking myself that as well, especially when you act so overly jealous and protective.", you replied with a playful tone in your voice, not wanting to make him think that you were angry or anything. You were sure Kushina would do that part for you when she would find out.

"I'm sorry for that. I promise I'll make it up to you somehow.", he told you, moving his face a bit up so you could see the soft smile on his face, obviously being overjoyed that you two were spending time together like this. "But you will let me join missions with others, right?", you asked him, pointing out that you hadn't done any missions since a while now except when Kushina was part of them.

A short moment of hesitation seemed to cross his face for a second before it was replaced by a slightly awkward smile. "I'll...think about it."

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere minato #yandere minato namikaze

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all-things-fic · 4 years

Text

Stay Still

A/N: Welcome to another day in quarantine. Here’s part two of Quarantine Harry which I wasn’t expecting to happen, to be honest with you all. Hopefully it lives up to any expectations. As always, stay safe and let me know what you think! Loads of love to you all.

Shout out as always to people I have pestered with this one. @waitingfortwilight for always being the ultimate babe, @harryfeatgaga for being hype woman of the century, @huccimermaidshirts for telling it to me how it is and @haute-romance-quotidienne for fuelling fantasy and possibly making it so we could get a part three!

Enjoy everyone! .x

***

You frowned softly at the intrusion of the morning light against your eyelids. The sound of a soft whistle hit your ears as you slowly roused for another day in quarantine. The sound of the bathroom tap shutting off brought a sense of stillness after Harry had brushed his teeth and washed his hands.

Keeping your eyes closed you heard the way Harry tip-toed around your bedroom, his feet heavy against the flooring regardless of how much he tried to overcompensate in trying to be as quiet as possible.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you imagined him acting like some drunken teenager trying not to wake his parents as he entered the house after a night out; worse for wear and not interested in being read the riot act for not sensibly drinking.

The sheets next to your feet felt heavier than usual, before suddenly becoming lighter again. You heard the rustle of clothing, followed by a light grunt from Harry as he got dressed at the end of your bed.

Head pushed through the neck of his hoodie, Harry fixed the hood on the clothing item before walking the short distance to the drawers that housed his undergarments and socks.

The sound of the wood sliding against the draw hinges caused you to cringe, before you bit away your smile as he whispered ‘shit, shit, shit’ quickly in succession due to how unsuccessful he was in not being noisy.

Turning around, Harry saw the way the sheets moved, the up and down of your shoulders letting him know you were laughing at the awful job he was doing.

“‘S that you laughing at me over there?”

Harry’s deep morning voice broke through the sleep-filled silence. He stood, still at the end of the bed, looking down the length of your body and willing you to pop your head up to look at him.

“Can see your shoulders moving under the sheets y’know?”

Still hidden by a mound of sheets and luxurious duvet, he heard your less than impressed response. “You’re so shit at being quiet.”

“Who even said that ‘m trying,” he scoffed, trying to pass off his clumsiness as something he had planned, letting his feet take him over to the other side of your bed. To his side.

You felt the familiar dip to the bed, and as he sat down you rolled over to your opposite side to be greeted with the expanse of his back. A soft groan left Harry’s lips as he leaned down to pull on his socks, you guessed his socks simply from the way you heard the band snap against his calves.

When he sat back up straight, you watched as he stretched up and rolled his neck to the side, left and right.

You weren’t prepared for his stare when he turned his head quickly to his right, looking over his shoulder at you. God, he was so frustratingly handsome.

Over the last couple of days, you’d watched Harry relax in a way that you’d yet to completely get to enjoy. His hair had grown to a length that had your fingers itching to braid at the locks sitting at the top of his head, his facial hair becoming darker, the thicker it got with each passing day that was crossed off on the kitchen calendar.

And his body. Where did you begin?

He had confessed to you a couple of nights ago he was considering getting a lock for the fridge. The two of you for some unknown reason falling into a fit of giggles after he’d said it as you lay along the couch together.

It was something to do with the desperation in his voice when he’d confessed his lack of self control. The rant he’d gone on about how much bread he was eating and how he knew he was ‘just being a greedy bastard’ but he couldn’t help it.

The thing was, he was working out with it too. You knew that simply because you’d spent far too many hours of the day telling him to ‘shift these bloody weights’ as you stubbed your toe for the fifth time in the space of a week.

He definitely was putting you to shame.

Quarantine really was working out for him. His thighs spoke for themselves, and you were sure one day he was going to split the shorts he appeared to be pouring himself into each morning to either do a weights or HIIT session in the middle of the lounge, or the garden if he fancied a change in setting.

The only thing you had found yourself lifting had been the fork that housed carb after carb. Pasta and potatoes mainly.

You were also lifting liquids to your lips too, staying hydrated was key in quarantine. And luckily for you the cases of wine and champagne that had gone untouched at your wedding towards the latter end of the previous year were buried in the garage of a house that you hadn’t ever thought you’d call home. Lack of flight paths back home and the closing of borders had changed that thought for you however.

Burying yourself deeper in the pillow beneath the side of your face, you watched Harry as he softly smiled taking in your less than impressed expression.

“Woken up on the wrong side of the bed or summat?” He teased, watching the way your expression scrunched up at him and his annoying love of early mornings.

“It’s not my fault someone kept me up half the night-“

“Didn’t ‘ear yer complaining last night,” his voice teetered off, eyebrows raised.

“Well, ‘m complaining now,” you pushed out your bottom lip, challenging him in a petulant way.

He laughed down his nose, shaking his head as he reached up to pick at the strings of his hoodie. Chin tilted up to the ceiling, you heard the way his tone of voice changed to a strain as he concentrated on tying his usual bow at his neck.

It was almost like he thought of himself as some form of present.

“‘Av at it then,” he encouraged you to bitch at him with whatever it was that had made you moody. “Eating into m’workout time so best be a good’en.”

“Piss off, you’re not even interested,” you scowled at him, knocking away at his hand as it reached out to touch you.

“Oi,” he frowned. “Don’t do tha’, don’t be like that.”

“‘M not being like anything.”

Harry’s eyes hardened as they looked at you, holding your gaze with his. You didn’t dare look away or crack a smile, even when you saw his lips start twitching as he found amusement in your childlike pouting.

Before you knew it, Harry had twisted his body so he was leaning over you, his presence welcomed rather than intimidating. His forearm pressed into the pillow at the side of your head as his free hand brushed at your slightly wild bed head.

“Gimme a kiss,” he muttered, his lips close to yours. You shook your head, with a small frown thrown at him. “Really gonna let me leave wi’out one?”

You hummed “‘s what you deserve.”

“‘S what I deserve? Me? What ‘ave I done?” He questioned. “You ‘ad a bad dream ‘bout me or summat?”

The silence that lingered after his question had you blushing under his gaze, as you focused anywhere but his eyes.

“Wha’ did I do this time?” He chuckled, feeling you shift in the soft hold of his arm. “Sorry that dream me is a bit of a knob’ead, I’ll ‘av a word.”

“You better,” you huffed.

“‘S as good as done, ‘f you let me have tha’ kiss,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing his face against the skin of your cheek.

His attempt at bribery meant he had basically won you over the minute he rubbed his lips down your chin and jaw, the feel of his beard harsher against your sensitive morning skin that still held its warmth from your nights sleep.

“Harry,” you giggled, wanting to curse yourself out at how you had buckled under him. Body tense as your head dipped into the pillow below as you tried to get away from the tickle of his facial hair.

Mouth pressed to your neck, Harry chuckled before opening his lips and leaving a gentle suckle against your pulse point while your fingers wove into his longer than usual hair. He knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

Your voice was breathy when it next spoke to him, velvety and happy as he nudged his nose lovingly along your skin. “Stop being a daft git.”

“Know exactly what would sort you out,” he whispered in return, making his way back up to your lips. “Come an’ hike wi’me,” he drawled, watching the way your eyes lulled to a hooded gaze.

You started to groan as Harry left a soft but pert peck to your lips. “‘M leaving in five,” he said, hand sliding down your back that was covered in your duvet. “Up yer get, meet you downstairs.”

The jolt of his hand against your bum, two swift and dull claps against the duvet material surprised you, before he pushed his body up and swiftly left your bedroom ready to start a new day.

***

You didn’t like the message that was on his hat.

You hated even more so that you were letting it bother you.

The horrible 70s font of ‘free and easy’ was unnecessarily winding you up. This man was a married man. Hardly the correct message to be portraying.

Eyes watched as Harry walked heavily in front of you, attacking the hill that you were both climbing, you lingered behind him.

His legs, the muscles in them we’re enticing to you but only in a way that was winding you up. How was he so fucking tanned already? His skin was so weathered that it always managed to piss you off at just how quickly he became a lovely shade of golden. His legs tanned better than yours did. In fact his everything tanned better than you did. His everything in general was doing better than yours.

Here you were once again being irritable. Frowning at anything and everything. Snappy but unable to figure out why. He was always so happy, you know? And you loved it, you really did but sometimes it was too much.

California had many a hiking spot. The knowledge of making it easily one of the best things about the place. Anything else, you could do without, but the hiking was always worth the struggle it took to even convince you to take part in the first place.

The sound of the gravel beneath your trainers, the sun beating down onto your skin, you watched as Harry’s trainer clad feet started to turn to you as he began to halt his pace.

Huffing and puffing your way behind Harry, you watched the way he tugged at the straps of his backpack and trekked along the desert like ground beneath your feet.

Looking up at him, you saw him move his sunglasses off his eyes and you swore if he placed them on top of the peak of his hat you were going to divorce him. Luckily, for him, he didn’t.

Sunglasses folded in his hand, you squinted up at him and waited for whatever it was he was going to say. “Told you, you should’ve brought a hat,” he shouted down to you, his voice carrying as you were surrounded by nothing but open space.

“I’m fine, just need to keep hydrated,” you held your water bottle up to him.

“You sure? You’re so slow-“

Before you could stop yourself you snapped at his teasing, “I’m social distancing, Harry!”

His eyes were wide from your response, his lips rolling into his mouth as he looked on at you harshly pulling open the lid of your water bottle and taking a large sip of your drink.

“Alright,” he dragged the word, his tone pitched slightly higher. “Like a bear wi’a sore head this morning, aren’t ya?”

“‘M beginning to think dream you is a lot better than real-life you,” you spoke, eyes refusing to look at him as you checked to see if anyone was around while you.

“‘S not true,” he softly responded, walking back down the hill to be closer to you. You knew he was right as well. “What’s up with you?”

Again you stubbornly took a sip of your water and squinted in the sunlight. “Darlin’,” Harry coaxed. “D’ya think-“

“No,” you stopped him before he could even begin to let his head carry himself away down the rabbit hole of baby talk. The baby talk that had been planted by his mother to begin with, the one thing that he had previously been trying to nip in the bud.

He was back to being amused again, you knew before you even chanced a glance at him from the corner of your vision.

The smile he wore was fleeting, barely there but reassuring all the same. Just one look in your eyes, properly, made him aware of the rush of uncertainty you had felt about the whole thing.

“Alright, ‘s fine either way though. Just so you know.”

***

Had your husband always been this hot or was it because he was about to feed you?

That was a question that was more and more frequently popping into your head with each passing day.

By the time you’d gotten back home from hiking, you were edging closer to lunch time and the growling of your stomach meant your mood was only going to get worse. If that were even possible.

You’d taken great delight in letting Harry know that no uplifting endorphins had found their way into your body after spending just under two hours, including the time you’d hiked and the time you’d been stuck in California traffic.

He had done nothing more than take every single thing you had thrown at him, as he wrapped his hand around yours and kissed at your knuckles affectionately.

Now you sat on the island counter in your kitchen, legs lightly swinging as you watched Harry boil pasta and simultaneously let your meat simmer away.

Next to you sat a glass of white wine, taunting. Harry’s wine was half-drank on the kitchen side as he talked through some tour logistics with Jeff. It felt like a massive elephant in the room. There was no denial.

Harry had picked your favourite wine, made this big deal about putting a ridiculous amount of effort in cooking lunch when usually the two opted for some picky foods of breads, meats and salad, given the hotter weather than you were used to at this time of year.

You warmed thinking about the trouble that he was going to but it wasn’t enough to shake the way you felt on edge with nerves.

“Speak to you tomorrow, mate,” he chuckled. “Stay safe, tell Glenne I’m sorry she’s stuck inside with you.”

A small smile played on your lips as you heard expletives through the other line from Jeff, before Harry cut him off.

Phone tossed to the side, the noise of sliding it along the counter filled your ears before Harry spoke over the noise of his cooking, “Even he’s pissed of wi’me. Got it in stereo at home from the wife and from m’mate.”

You knew he was joking from the glance he threw at you as he stood in front of you, before reaching to his right for his glass of wine. Your eyes were drawn to his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, wine glass clinking down before he spun around to walk to you.

As you admired him, you smiled thinking about how he’d yet to take a shower. Instead he’d let you go and enjoy the first soak of the day, underneath the steamy hot water.

“Legs,” he commented, requesting you lift them up straight so he could get to the cutlery drawer that you were covering.

You did so, feeling his right hand wrap gently underneath your one calf to help you keep them up. His left hand pulled at the draw, the rattle of the metal knives, forks and spoons, sounding heavily into the room.

He plucked up a fork easily, pushing the draw back into its place with his hip.

“I do appreciate you, you know?” You questioned, watching the way he lingered close to you. You watched him, messy hair in his eyes and knotted to high heaven. “Sorry for being in your ear all day,” you continued, eyes careful as you looked at Harry.

“Can’t quite hear yer over the cooking,” he mused. “Wha’ was tha’?”

“You heard me fine.”

He smiled, repeating your words back to you. Humming happily, eyebrows slightly raise, “I heard you just fine.”

Arms boxing you in, Harry’s shoulders were hunched as he stood between your legs. “Gonna let me have tha’ kiss now?”

“You’ve had plenty-“

“Not a proper ‘un,” he protested, enjoying the feel of your fingers brushing back his hair out of his eyes. Face wincing as you tried to remove any of the knots from his chestnut brown strands.

“Need to do something about this,” you spoke wistfully, changing the subject, eyes concentrating on your fingers as they continued to comb through his hair, taking it away from covering his expressive, as ever, face.

“We’re not at that stage in quarantine where we start having to cut me hair, no chance,” he deadpanned, his eyes enjoying the way your expression lightened with his lack of desire to your addition to the conversation.

“Reckon I could give you a lovely bowl cut,” you shot back, realising how quiet he had gone on you. Softly slowing the movements of your fingers, you let your eyes drop down to meet his gentle gaze. “What?” you asked, voice barely there, his expression very pleasing to your eye as his hair softly fell in a middle parting, tousled and very nineties.

“‘Seem a bit happier, hm,” he acknowledged, enjoying the way your hands had moved from his hand now to rest lightly at the sides of his neck. “Not fancy your wine?”

And just like that nerves swirled in your stomach again.

You scrunched your nose up at him, giving him a soft shake of your head. His eyes brightened and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You hated that you were thinking it too.

“Think I’m late too,” you admitted, seeing the way his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in. His chest heaved, before he blew out the most happy sigh.

“‘S fine,” he responded.

“Don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“You’re not.”

“If you could see your face,” you shook your head, dropping your hands away from his neck.

“If I could see my face, what?” He jutted out his lips in question, his hands gently clasping yours and lifting them to wrap around the back of his neck this time.

“How you’re looking at me-“

“How I always look at you,” he mumbled. “Like you hung the fuckin’ moon. Stop worrying.”

Running your tongue across your teeth, you took in a deep breath. “Stop it,” Harry warned, the two words clipped, his hands setting themselves to the top of your thighs. “We’re just prepping a nice lunch, gonna eat it out on the patio, in the sun-“

“I don’t even think we’ve got a test lying around here, if we’d have been in London-“

“Baby,” he cut you off.

You swallowed heavily.

“When you think about it, this couldn’t have come at a worse time-“

He spoke your name harshly as he cut you off, his face hardening at your words. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, you fidgeted under his gaze. “I didn’t, I don’t mean it how it sounds,” you knocked your head back so your eyes met the ceiling of your kitchen.

You could feel him scrutinising you. His gaze never fleeting as he watched you come to terms with all the possibilities.

“I mean, we aren’t even going to be able to get to a doctor. They aren’t seeing anyone right now and-“

“And we don’t even know if we are,” he soothed, reaching for your face and wanting your eyes back on his. He hated the worry that had stolen this moment from you. The shy giggles and nervous rambles, around passionate kisses and lingering pecks that usually were part of any pregnancy talk between the two of you.

But I think I want to be, you thought, eyes glossy as they looked at Harry. Leaning forward, he welcomed your weight as you rested against him. With a heaved sighed you spoke, “God, I could really use that glass of wine right now.”

***

The record player in your lounge was the only thing keeping you sane at this point in the afternoon. The soft hum of Billy Joel playing around the room on the lowest volume, enough to keep you out of your own head.

There was something about songs that were piano heavy that managed to instantly soothe you.

It had felt like forever since Harry had slipped away from you as you stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing off your empty plates before placing them into the dishwasher. Your eyes glancing over at him just in time to watch him pull off his sweat laced t-shirt, tugging the collar upwards and revealing his broadening back.

Since then all you had heard alongside the crooning of your favourite record was the sound of the shower running, the occasional croon also leaving Harry’s throat slightly drowned out by the sound of running water.

As you sat, head tilted against the back of your couch, a soft smile hit your lips when you heard the water shut off. Not long after the soft, low singing voice of Harry filtered through your landing and downstairs.

The sentimental softness in that moment had you sinking further into your hoodie and pressing your nose into its neckline. You couldn’t help but smile as you heard how heavy footed Harry was being upstairs, a harsh contrast in comparison to the softness of his singing voice.

“‘S one of your faves, this one innit?” You heard his voice boom, cutting through the peace and quiet that had formed of its own accord after he’d dragged himself upstairs. You loved it when he commented on songs you liked.

Eyes closed, you imagined him leaning over the banister on the landing and shouting down the stairs to you in conversation between the floors of your home.

Choosing not to answer, you continued to mutter under your breath the lyrics and tried to ignore the havoc Harry was making upstairs in your bathroom.

There was a loud crash upstairs, before you heard a delayed curse of ‘bollocks’ from Harry.

His voice suddenly became clear as he shouted down, “‘s fine, nothing’s broken just knocked off some stuff of the ledge. Definitely not watching it leak everywhere right now.”

Your mother used to always tell you she used to count to ten with your father. Now you understood what she meant in saying that.

Men really liked meddling when they were bored. You were used to it by now. Pick your battles. Let it be like water off a duck's back.

Continuing to try and tune him out, you listened carefully as he pottered around upstairs. It wasn’t much after that you heard him descend down your stairs, and pad his way through your house into your lounge.

Harry stood in the doorway, watching as you sat with your eyes closed, trying to find some form of stillness. Softly clearing his throat, he kept his one hand behind his back while the other clasped tightly at the white towel that sat against his waist.

Eyes fluttering, you knocked your head slightly to your left and stayed quiet as you took the vision in front of you.

One thing that always amazed you about Harry was the way that he managed to almost fill the entirety of a doorway but never look menacing. His body was broader, the pecs of his chest more defined. The hair between them darker regardless of how he’d been shirtless in the sun. You took delight in that cause that meant his chest hair was getting thicker.

You eyed him, spending time on enjoying his rounded tummy and how much he was clinging on for dear life to the towel.

“No big towels left in the airing cupboard,” his voice broke your shared silence, causing you to sweep your eyes back up to his face. “Think you need to do some laundry.”

The smarmy, amused expression after his comment, made you shake your head. “You’ve got hands as well, you know?”

He didn’t answer your question, continuing to let the wet strands of his hair drip over his face and down his naked chest. “If you stand in the middle of the doorway any longer people will think we’ve got a flasher in our home.”

The frown that pulled onto his face made the smallest amount of laughter leave your chest.

“‘Ere,” he lazily spoke, throwing an item onto your coffee table. The noise of it sliding along the wood pulled your eyes away from watching him and onto the item that he had just gently thrown. “Just found this hidin’ at the back of the cupboard under the sink.”

That explained what all the knocking was.

Barely lifting your head to take in the item, you already knew what he was referring to. Eyes back on him, you watched as he fidgeted with his towel again. This time, opening the item slightly wider than necessary as he pulled it tighter around his thickening body and folded it in to keep itself together.

Turning his back to face you, you watched as he tried to drop his body down onto your couch. You made a noise of disapproval, seeing him still in a hunched over position. Harry turned his eyes to look at you over his right shoulder. His stare asked you what the problem was.

“You’re all wet,” you lightly screeched at him, watching him softly roll his eyes and twist his body to plonk himself down onto the coffee table opposite you instead.

In the silence, Harry once again began to pull at the towel at his waist. “For god sake,” you whispered, “put it away, will you?”

“‘S wha’ ‘m trying to do,” he argued in return, as he fidgeted with the white cotton and tried to cover his modesty. “Christ, you could just keep your eyes up ‘ere.”

“What’s happening here,” you joked, lifting up your foot from where it sat perched on the coffee table and poking at his stomach with it. His stomach really was rounding out and you found yourself loving it, any comment you were making simply out of pestering affection. “That’ll be those twenty trips a day to the fridge.”

“I’m possibly eating for two but I won’t know without the test,” he deadpanned, reaching up with both his hands and brushing back his wet and heavy hair. You smiled when it fell back in his after he pressed his forearms into his thighs, wanting to lean forward to get closer to you.

He wasn’t trying to conceal himself at all, his man spread the biggest you’d seen from him for a while. The towel gaped more than ever.

“Like you need anymore of excuse,” you responded, flashing him a false smile. You watched as he pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth, trying to stop his laugh at you jokingly commenting again on his quarantine eating habits.

“‘S not very nice is it, that? To the potential father of your unborn child.”

You howled at that one, head falling back against the couch. “Potential father,” you squealed. “I’ve not been holed up in the house shagging anyone else, have I?”

Your laughter was too much. His silence said it all. There was no doubt a scowl over his features as you laughed at him.

“Dunno? Have you?” He sulked as he spoke back, annoyed you’d got one over him. “Might’ve done, this house is bloody massive.”

Letting your laughter die down, you pressed your lips together as you looked at him. Swinging your legs down you leaned in, squeezing his chin and jaw in one hand.

You melted at how pouty his lips became, his cheeks smushed as you pecked at his lips.

“One man, that’s it.”

He hummed, as you dropped your forehead to him. “Must have decent swimmers.”

“Swear to god,” you muttered under your breath, causing him to breathily chuckle.

This was the man you’d chosen to marry.

***

His back faced you as he slept. The dim light from the early morning seeping into your room from the slight crack that had been left in your curtains, thanks to the way Harry had poorly pulled them together the night before.

The sound of Harry’s deep breathing had your eyes lulling as you continued to allow them to roam over the expanse of his bare back and tousled hair.

Hazy eyes tried their best to zone in on Harry’s figure as he lay sleeping. It was nice to wake up before him, to get the opportunity to admire him at your own pace rather than peeking a glance his way as he whooshed through the room like a tornado like every other morning.

The smell of your newly washed bed sheets was alluring as you lay against your soft mattress, almost too alluring.

A faint snore left Harry causing you to softly smile as you saw the way his week had somehow managed to catch up with him. He’d done this thing where he’d taken it upon himself, to make himself work. He couldn’t tour, that was out of his control. And you knew that regardless of how much he tried to play it off, he was struggling with how he couldn’t change it.

Probably why he was throwing himself at every radio station possible.

Part of you was jealous that he was still sleeping, but the other felt warm in knowing he was allowing himself to switch off for this long today. That his work had been forgone and he was allowing himself to rest.

The last couple of days had been strange as you had become hyper-aware of your body and how it felt, the way in which it was reacting to smell and taste. To the touch of your husband.

And touch you he had. Harry was always tactile but as the potential news that you could be having a baby had made him even more so. His hands never really left you.

They were against your thigh when you sat close to him as you ate your breakfast together every morning. Fingers usually softly cupped around your thigh, sometimes trapped between both thighs if he thought he was being funny in dragging his hand higher up your leg in an outdoor setting.

That would usually drag a lazily, morning laugh from him. Pleased with his flirtatious antagonising.

Fingers would gently take to playing with yours in the evening, as Harry seemed to master the art in eating his evening dinner with just one hand. Gone was the use of a knife, as he would tilt his fork to the side to cut through whatever food you had cooked that evening.

The fork would even clatter against the plate to allow him to reach for his evening tipple of choice, rather than break how he was holding your hand, which was usually your left.

You’d noted he was still so enamoured by your wedding band which had joined your engagement ring. He usually would find himself gently plucking at the cushion cut diamond to make sure it was sitting central on your finger.

In this moment as you lay in bed, you supposed him taking time to touch you was his way to stay grounded. He’d been outrageously busy since your hike just three days earlier, more for someone who was in lockdown and made his living by singing music live.

The work was a blessing in disguise though as it had drawn his attention away from the pregnancy test that had found its place back under the bathroom sink, connected to your room.

It had allowed you to get out of your head for the last seventy-two hours. Breeze around like the newlyweds that you were, still basking sickeningly in how amazed you were by everything the other was doing.

It was hard not to get in your head now, though.

Laying awake and in a dream-like state, you always felt your body’s sensitivities more so when you had first woken up. It was one of the things that made morning sex your favourite.

But your body sensitivity seemed to linger more so now than ever. It didn’t make itself known solely in the morning. It was around when you took the chance to lay in the morning sun just before it peaked at midday.

You’d found that your skin became itchy, a form of prickly heat spreading over you, a lot quicker now and while it wasn’t something new your worry was already heightened tenfold since the pregnancy suggestion had even become a thing.

The first time it had happened, and you’d become irritated Wednesday, you cursed at your body for playing some sort of sick April Fools trick on your with it being the first day of the new month.

Harry’s deep chuckle against the soft skin of your shoulder hadn’t done anything to soothe you. “Just sit in the shade, grab one of m’old shirts and lounge in summat loose,” he had suggested a couple of days earlier.

You’d panicked at the time, regardless of his calm demeanour when hours later the red dots on your skin had remained, “I just don’t understand where this small rash has come from.”

“Where?” He’d set his tone, “Lemme ‘ave a look.”

From where he stood behind you, you shifted your - his - baggy dress shirt from where it was loosely buttoned up and draped over your body. His chin was resting against your shoulder as he looked down your shirt, catching sight of the light sprinkle of red dots on your skin.

“Looks like prickly heat t’me,” he hummed, knowing just how itchy heat rash could get. “Come take a cool bath wi’me, it’ll help.”

That cool bath had helped, a lot actually.

But away from your thoughts, in the present moment, the cool bath that had previously soothed you wouldn’t help this time. This sensitivity was the kind that had you wincing when clothes ran against you.

To put it bluntly, your tits were hurting.

There were no two ways about it.

And you didn’t even need to google how that linked to pregnancy because you knew it was a symptom women often had in their first trimester. However you’d had that symptom before and you and Harry were still baby-less.

It didn’t stop the anxiousness that flowed through you, however.

Could be solved by you taking the test though, couldn’t it?

That thought wasn’t wrong. Yet, it was scary.

It would change your life in two ways. Either you were going to become parents or it would make you realise you wanted to become parents. A sense of happiness while splintered with apprehension would either be your feelings of choice, or simple and unbridled disappointment would linger.

Harry’s deeper snore had you blinking yourself out of your blurring stare and let him come back into focus.

Wouldn’t hurt taking a test would it? It’s not like you were officially doing it without him. If you kept the door open as you peed, he would basically have been right there with you.

It would stop you thinking irrationally about the pains in your chest anyway.

Releasing a nervous sigh, you reached out towards Harry and softly touched his bare back. His back that was broadening more and more as quarantine went on. Fingertips lightly tracing at his skin, before your fingers slid up and wove through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You scratched lightly, before pausing when Harry’s breathing patterned changed. All movement from you froze, waiting for him to let you know if he was still sleeping. Instead of waking, you saw the way his body sank back down to relax into the mattress once more.

This noise of contentment left his lips in his sleep, Harry rolling further onto his tummy and pressing his face deeper into his pillow.

He was practically telling you to piss off and leave him be, even in his sleep.

Your hand, from his new position naturally fell away from his head as he was just a little bit out of reach now.

Taking that as a sign to get up and do what you’d been putting off for long enough, you slipped gently out from underneath the duvet.

A sense of sadness flew over you as the sleepy warmth of your bed fell away from your body while you walked around the bed and closer to the bathroom.

Eyes dropping down to your bed, you took in Harry’s face that was less than elegant as he slept. Mouth slightly ajar, his pouty lips were still framed with his thickening beard and a light divot sat between his shaped eyebrows. You fought against the urge to reach out for him and smooth out the disruption to the otherwise even contour of his forehead.

Footsteps sounded loud to your ears but were nothing more than soft pats as you turned to your left and entered your bathroom.

You felt nervous about shutting the door, not wanting anything to wake Harry in that moment. Leaving it ajar to avoid the click it would make as it connected to the doorframe, you bent at the knees and pulled at the cupboard door.

Sleepy eyes landed in the box that had become familiar with you now, slightly shaking hands reaching out for the item and pulling it towards you.

Standing, you - for some reason - couldn’t bring your eyes up to take a look at yourself in the mirror that practically covered the entirety of your sink and hand washing station.

The edges of the box had become quite worn which was hardly surprising given how many times it had been passed between you and Harry on that last day of March.

You didn’t need the instructions. There was no point reaching for them. Instead you went straight for one of the two pregnancy tests that sat wrapped inside and pressed your legs together.

You needed the toilet, of course you did. You’d just woken up. It wasn’t going to be an issue. And that was part of the problem as you stood in your stark white bathroom.

It wasn’t pretty, was it? Anything about pregnancy, you were sure wasn’t going to be airy fairy. The fact you were likely to get pee on your hand in order for you to find out in the first place, summed it up pretty well.

Breathing deeply, you hated the negativity you were forcing yourself to feel as a way to combat your anxiety. Swallowing, you lifted your eyes cautiously to take in your figure.

Wild hair met your eyes first, followed by an incredibly creased white shirt of which the sleeves half swamped your hand. You liked being engulfed in an item of Harry’s clothing, however. It was so hard to come by when you’d first started dating, up until the latter years where he’d taken it upon himself to bulk his body up for tour.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rucked up the bottom of the dress shirt and turned to sit on the toilet, clenching your eyes together as you placed the test where it needed to go.

And then you went for it.

How else were you supposed to describe it.

Not that you would ever need to describe this part to anyone. No one ever talked about this part.

Lifting the stick out from between your legs, you pressed it onto the counter to the side and sorted yourself out. Toilet flushed and hands washed, you cringed when the faucet created a noise louder than you wanted but it was out of your control.

Drying your hands you frowned at the faint call of your name, not sure if you were imagining it. Hand wrapped around the door, you pulled it open and caught sight of Harry gently looking at you.

He looked partly disoriented, blinking quickly before he set his gaze on yours. The softest smile you had sworn to have seen grace his face, since you had walked up the aisle to him, met your stare.

Not a word was spoken as he raised his left hand out for you to take, his right arm tucked securely underneath his pillow and he lay down.

“Come get back in back,” he mumbled. “‘S early innit.”

The bathroom light was turned off before you could even say ‘pregnancy test’. The item swamped in darkness as you shut the door and gently walked to your waiting husband.

Eyes dropping from his you noticed the way he’d folded down the covers so they sat against his lower abdomen. The span of his upper body on show for you to see.

“‘S late,” you corrected him when you were stood next to his side of the bed. Hand in his, Harry pulled it and gently placed it against his face, eyes slowly shutting when you found his hair and gently wove your fingers through his unruly waves.

“Refuse to believe it,” he mumbled into your wrist, lifting his head slightly from his pillow to kiss your skin.

“Why? Cause it makes you lazy bones,” you softly laughed, it turning into a squeal as he pulled you down to him, legs straddling either side of his body.

“‘S ‘nough out of you,” he hummed, chin dropping to his chest as he reached up to brush your fallen hair out of your eyes.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt the way the pads of his fingers gently skimmed across your face. His gentle touch tickled your skin, a smattering of goosebumps lining in the wake of his touch as he showered you with affection.

You had no other choice but to press yourself down onto him, as he lay against the mattress.

“Bloody obsessed wi’you,” Harry confessed, his eyelids hooded as his vision of you blurred and any light in the room was taken from him from your hair curtaining around your both. “I’d do some foolish fuckin’ things for you.”

“Would you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, voice low. “Surely you know it an’all.”

“Might do,” you felt the way his lips pulled up into a smile, your lips resting against his rounded cheek. “Might not.”

“You fuckin’ do,” he groaned, head knocking back causing your lips to fall further down his face, “Would give you the clothes off my back, would give you anything.”

“That’s a loaded statement, sure you don’t want to retract it.”

He shook his head, swallowing as he said, “Do with me what you want, doll.”

The rawness to his voice as he spoke had you brushing your nose against his beard, the tickle of his hair something you had grown used to over the never ending days.

He turned his head waiting for you, the sound of his softly gasped name falling off your lips and straight onto his as he hummed happily in return. His hands brushed your hair behind you again as it continued to get in the way.

Breathing heavy against his lips, he smiled when you pulled him closer to you, squashing your noses together as you devoured him. A hum low, in the back of his throat, as you slowed. A confidence warmed you, fingers carding through his hair and gently pulling at his chestnut locks to create a gap between the two of you.

He tried to nudge forward to reclaim your lips, but you stopped his movement with a commanding, “Stay still.”

His jaw clenched, before you soothed the back of your fingers over it. Harry wasn’t always used to you taking charge in any situation, especially not in bed anyway. Not all the time and not with such an authoritarian tone anyway. Usually you played it lightly, a flirtatious push and pull between you both.

“Said I can do what I want with you,” you hummed, watching the way his nostrils flared as his breath picked up. “Gonna take my time-“

You ducked your head, lips sucking his skin the minute they came into contact with the light dusting of his beard that scattered down his throat.

“Never usually get to take my time with my husband,” you trailed off, teeth naughtily grazing at the top of his rounded pecs. He’s usually far too greedy, you though, keeping it to yourself.

Harry’s breathing was heavy now, his chest expanding as he tried to anticipate what was to come. His stomach tensed as your hands got lower.

“Your husband,” he emphasised.

“Know this is your favourite,” you watched him bend his left arm behind his head, raising his head slightly as he looked up at you sitting in his lap.

An amused chuckle reverberated through him. “If it’s with you, yeah, it’s my favourite.”

You dropped your eyes to his right hand as it came up to fiddle with the buttons on his dress shirt. Whilst there weren’t many buttoned up, he still couldn’t see as much of you as he would have liked.

As he unbuttoned, from the bottom up, you began to rock your bare nether region against Harry’s pubic bone, before you pushed back some more and came into contact with the sensitive and wet head of his heavy and waiting cock.

“Mm, found it,” he breathed, biting down on his bottom lip and tilting his chin upwards, eyes peering down his nose at you. “Tha’s what you wanted.”

You knew you should’ve been mad at the way he wasn’t doing what you had asked but there was something about how his right hand sprawled it’s way across your stomach as you rolled yourself messily on top of him. How it had just stayed there, resting, warmly.

With hooded gazed, you watched the way his bottom lip bounced away from his teeth, tongue enticing licking at the luscious pinkness and shining up at you.

“‘S tha’ look for?”

Frown etched between your brows, you appreciatively gasped as you felt the way his cock tucked between your folds as you humped against his wetness.

You were looking at him whatever way you were, because you were obsessed with him too.

Harry slowly pushed himself up, so you were chest to chest now. His lips bumped clumsily to rest on your chin, hand sliding around from your stomach and down your back before gripping at the top of your bum cheeks to keep you to him.

“Glowing, y’know tha’,” he huskily mouthed against your jawline, your head slowly tipping backwards and starting to show the expanse of your heaving chest to him.

Eyes dropping down, he quickly glanced at your boobs, how they pushed against the material of his shirt and how rounded they looked. Definitely looked bigger to him.

He knew he should stop himself, but he couldn’t. He was dying to strip you of the clothing item so he could get a proper look at you.

His hands travel back up the span of your back, nails catching against the cotton of his shirt. You felt him start to bunch the item up as you slowly brought your head back up, just in time to catch the way he set his jaw as he pulled at the final button of the shirt to make it fall open.

That button ripped away from the fabric, lost somewhere forever, mixed between the sheets until you would find it sometime later next week and it would pull you back to the memory of this time you’d had sex.

Harry’s head was already tilted back, his mouth now slightly ajar and lips still shining and pouty. Regardless of how much desire filled his face, you could tell he was waiting for you to tell him off.

He was being too handsy for someone who had been told to stay still.

“You’re not listening to me,” your soft whines were met with this breathy laugh down Harry’s nose.

The silence between you was short before his deep voice said, “Can’t help wanting to have a proper look at you.”

Your bum pushed back into his hands as a response, gliding easily against him regardless of how he held your center snug to his crotch.

“I’m getting hot,” you admitted, the cotton shirt becoming nothing more of a nuisance as it rustled around you. “This is getting in the way.”

Knowing you’d need help to pull the item off, Harry’s hand found their way to the middle of the shirt, slowly peeling the fabric away from your body.

He heard you suck in a breath through your teeth, the wince cutting through the room as he helped you remove the shirt you had picked to sleep in. Hair cascading down your back, you felt him sit up further, pulling your face to his, as he cupped the back of your neck. Shirt long thrown to the bottom of the bed.

“What was tha’?” His question was half lost against your cheek, his hands sliding down your nude back again, his grip strong as his palms found your arse and pulled you tight to him. He tugged you closer to him, a groan of lustful appreciation omitting from his throat.

“Bit tender, this morning,” you whispered, head dropping back as Harry pressed his softly smiling lips against the skin of your clavicle. “Stop it.”

“‘M sayin’ nothin’,” he spoke with a sing-y lilt, far to pleased with himself, softly lifting up and pressing his forehead to your collarbone. “Gonna have to suck on summat else if they’re hurting.”

“Haven’t done that in a while,” you mused, lips lifting as he hummed in agreement.

“Not since the full beard came in,” he wistfully replied. “Come and sit on my face.”

“Harry-“

“Alright, I’ll get back in m’box,” he jested. “Want you that way before I shave it off, at least once. At least-“ he trailed off when you took his mouth with yours again.

It never got old feeling him between your legs, and the two of you just staying like that. Kissing heavily like teenagers and neither of you making the first move.

“Don’t always get what we want.”

“I’ve done alright so far-“ he chuckled when you stilled against him, annoyed at how he had an answer for everything.

Wrapping his arms securely around your back, you felt him lower the two of your back down to your bed. Forearms resting in the sea of pillows, you gripped at the side of his face, “why won’t you just let me have my way?”

“‘S fun like this,” he whispered, keeping his mouth hot and heavy against yours as he breathed.

“You’re just spoiling it for yourself,” you tried to reason with him.

“Believe me I’m not,” he groaned, feeling you start to brush your aching centre over him once more, “I’m driving myself mad with want. Know you are too, know you’re gagging for me.”

You whimpered at his suggestion, breathing getting heavier by the second as you desperately rocked against him in slow, purposeful rubs.

“Darling, just put me in,” he dropped his eyes to look at the rock of your hips, “Have the real thing, have it properly, go on.”

His lazy but deep tone was too much to say no to as you lined him up at your aching warmth.

“Fuck yea,” he bit down on his bottom lip, breathing heavily through his nose. His voice was spent, as he let his mouth hang open, dry and desperate for him to swallow. “Take me,” he barely murmured, as you felt his tip sit at your entrance.

“God,” his worn out voice sounded, his clammy hands moving to rest underneath your nicely raised bum cheeks , “Take me. All of me.”

And just like that he was proved right, you were gagging for him.

His length slipped easily inside you as you sat down upon him and released a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding out in one almighty pant.

You didn’t waste much time once he was inside, leaning your body back and placing your left hand on the top of Harry’s thickening thighs for support, this mass of hair cascading down your back, the tips tickling at the tops of his knees.

Creating a 45-degree angle with the use of his legs, you put yourself on show from him immediately. You both knew this angle helped target you in all the right places, while still giving you ample control over the speed and depth of the thrusts.

You’d gotten exactly what you wanted.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed with Harry how your reclined position was an obvious invitation for him to stroke away at your clit. However, he found himself far too mesmerised by the way your body looked above him to bring himself to do anything but watch.

Your body had changed since he’d last taken you this way, or let you take him. He wasn’t sure where the power lay now and he didn’t care; not in the slightest.

You’d blossomed nicely, a bit more for him to grab onto since your wedding and he found himself flushing at how he could been fucking you like this and you be pregnant with his child.

He was convinced you were. Your boobs heaved above you, bigger than he’d ever seen them and he could’ve sworn you tummy was slightly more rounded than before. His gaze was getting lower, hands fighting with themselves where to go first and eyes trying to help him make the right decision.

As they dropped, he swallowed heavily. You had started to get hairy, a sign of laziness but also of being comfortable. He remembered so vividly the first time he’d taken you when you hadn’t shaved, and you weren’t as brazen to share it with him as you were now.

“Look at you shagging me,” he hoarsely caught your attention as your right hand moved from where it was pressed against his stomach and swiped up your own body to smoothly bring your hair around to your front. “Tits look incredible.”

His head dipped back as he saw your desperate expression as you brought your head up to sit your body up straight. Your adopted rhythm had been more of a rub and roll of your hips, rather than a drop and grind. It was almost as if the minute you had taken him inside, you didn’t want him to leave.

“‘M dying to play with ‘em,” he confessed, his hands coming up to your sides, before stroking back down. His hand cracked against your bum without warning, as you rocked forward with more fervour. “Fuck me, go on. Please keep fuckin’ me, don’t stop.”

His voice was choked and as you looked down at him, his lust filled hooded stare was waiting for your frowning expression, as your hands found his chest and softly slid up to his neck.

They rested there lightly, until you saw Harry raise his chin upwards to open the expanse of his neck and throat to you. He looked alluring like this, lying beneath you and exploring something you’d yet to discuss together.

You lightly stroked your thumb against the center of his throat, feeling the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. The feel of it causing you to panic, your hand starting to retract. How did you even know this was what he wanted? Just cause he had shown your more of his neck, didn’t mean anything.

Before you could get too far away, you felt him gently take your hand and encourage you to keep exploring. His eyes were dark with arousal as he whimpered up at you. The stubble that lightly decorated the underside of his chin was more than taunting enough; never mind anything else.

“You want that?

“Want everything wi’you, do it properly,” he pressed heavily against your hand, jaw clenching before your eyes were greeted with his falling shut and his mouth hanging open. A wanton moan, fell off his lips. “Use me.”

Keeping your eyes on his face you saw the way it began to flush with colour as your took away his ease to breathe.

The stifled groan of approval that left his lips as you rolled your hips up and dropped back down onto him with a clap of your thighs meeting, caused the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen him wear, to pull up onto his lips.

The leverage you had changed from digging your fingers into his throat. The position allowed you to press yourself hard down onto his cock, so much so that you could’ve sworn it was the deepest he had ever been.

You stayed that way for a while, the echo of your skin clapping together as your thighs began to burn. His hand smoothed over your skin and gripped at your hips to encourage you to not give in.

“My wife, pleasing me,” the roughness to his words, voice broken as you let his neck go but kept your hand there. “Doing as she’s told.”

You fell forward and brought your lips to his, his laugh at his previous statement mingling with yours. He knew he’d pissed you off saying that, a self confessed wind up merchant. He definitely didn’t wear the trousers here and he knew it.

“Remember where my hand is,” you faux-threatened, soft raise to your brows.

“Darling, you've had me by the balls since I first clapped eyes on you. Having me by the throat is nothing.”

Now it was your turn to be smug. To drop your hips down upon him again and hear him submit a groan confirming his willingness to please you just as much.

You felt yourself fluttering around him and it took everything within Harry not to hold you to him and just thrust upwards, giving you what you both wanted.

He liked that you had wanted to drag it out, to roll your hips over his this entire time and let your clit rub against his pelvic bone on every thrust. He wanted you to get it how you wanted, to hold out for you and have you draw his release out of him.

The whine that left your throat as you cupped around his neck and brought his face back to yours had him muttering words of approval that you couldn’t decipher. He knew you liked that, when you couldn’t quite figure out what filthy things he was saying to you to try and get you there.

A playful mystery which summed the two of you up perfectly.

“God, I love you,” you desperately gasped, face flushed and feeling clammy from your exertion.

“D’yer?” He roughly spoke. “You love fucking me, hm?”

“No, I love you,” you whimpered at him, breathing deeply and eyes wide. “Say you love me.”

He chuckled at your sense of needy showing itself, “‘course I love you.”

He softly smiled when he saw how blissful your face fell, his hand finding the back of your head and holding you to him. “Love having sex with you too, hm. Fuckin’ love it.”

You hips pressed down onto his as roughly as they could, a mixture of your arousal and his everywhere inside your thighs. Back and forth you moved in quick succession, panting matching how much you wanted it.

“Love it when you get like this, all messy and desperate for me. ‘S not like you, usually so put together and so good.”

“‘M so dirty for you-“

He groaned louder, feeling himself somehow press deeper in you. “Mhm,” he agreed against your jaw. “Yea, you are. Gonna come for me?”

“Dunno, ‘m thinking about it,” you smiled before fluttering around him and dropping your hips again. “Yes,” the motion of your hips started to get quicker once more.

“Don’t stop this time,” he quickly whispered, pushing his chin up and catching his lips with you. “Want you all over me.”

As your movements got more abrupt the sound of the mattress beneath you made itself known. The rustling sounds of sheets, a tangled mess against your merged together limbs, spurred you on.

He knew how much you loved the sound of the mattress like this, really showed how heavy you were going at it.

His awe for you was written all over his face as he looked at you. “Bit more baby,” he clenched his teeth, pushing up into you for the first time since you’d taken control. “Let me help you, hm?”

As he brought his hands down against your cheeks and hips, he pulled you down onto his strong thrust up causing you to reach for his face. “Come on, come on,” he whispered, sweat running down his temple and disappearing into his hairline.

The minute your mouth fell against his he knew he had you. Pliant as ever. You felt slack everywhere than around him. Tight and then gently fluttering teasingly around him.

And he knew was done for.

“Keep going, bit more,” he encouraged, just needing you to press down once more to meet him. When you obliged him, he spoke, “That’s my girl, yeah.”

Pulled down hard onto his pelvis, Harry vocalised how grateful he was. Pushing in further each time you squeezed and let him have it. So physically deep you don’t know where he ended and you began.

He loved how you fell against him, shaking arms wrapping around you and holding you gently to him; keeping your face tucked against his sweaty neck. The two of you shook against each other, allowing your unsteady breath to even itself out.

As you felt him begin to soften before your legs, you shifted your body slightly, Harry mewling at the loss of contact as he slipped out of you.

He nudged his nose into your hair, enjoying how the two of you were taking time to stay close.

“Come share a bath wi’me,” he mumbled against your cheek. Feeling you shake your head, no. “No?”

“I don’t want another go,” you mentioned

He chuckled, “I don’t wanna shag you, I wanna treat you to summat.”

“But I’m tired-“

“Yeah, ‘s hard putting all the work in, in’it.”

His statement caused you to bury your face into his neck even deeper. “Tell you what,” he hummed. “How ‘bout if I run the bath and you get to lie here while I do it? Sound better?”

“Yeah,” you childishly responded.

“‘Kay,” he hummed, amused, “Gotta let me out first.”

Not happy in the slightest at how you had to move, you gently rolled away from Harry and moved onto your stomach. Face pressed into his pillow, turned away from Harry he took his opportunity to run his eyes down your body.

The dip between your shoulder blades, how soft your skin looked to the naked eye, never mind felt to the touch. He couldn’t resist dropping forward, choosing to climb over your body rather than slip off the bed by his side and walk around.

“Think you should take that test,” he murmured, into your sweaty shoulder, as you lay sprawled out facing away from him.

“Why?” You asked, question weary and voice slightly wetter than usual. You already had taken it.

“Just think you should,” he happily hummed, nose running against the curve of your shoulder. “Call it a hunch, husband’s intuition.”

When he was met with silence, he decided to throw out a comment he knew would he incite a reaction from you. “Thinking of taking the bike out later.”

His motorcycle, which had definitely seen better days, was absolutely not something you wanted him going near. Regardless of how attractive he looked on the bloody thing.

“Are you trying to start an argument?” You mumbled your question, half of it lost against the pillow.

“Alright I’m going,” he replied, hanging half over your body. The way he chose to climb over you, caused you to press your face into your pillow to hide your smile.

“D’ya want bubbles or not?” He asked, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, and looking over his shoulder. You stared at him, feeling a sense of nervousness swallow you. “Baby-“

“Sorry,” you blinked softly. “Surprise me.”

He lingered, trying to see if you were okay, before he turned to enter your bathroom. Door kept open, you could see his bare arse as held any over the tub to push the plug in and turned to look at something to add to your bath.

The sound of bottle shuffling around filled you ears before he asked, “We’ve got the muscle relaxant one of you-“

He’d seen it. The way he’d stopped talking let you know.

The shuffle of his feet was heard before he appeared at the doorway again. “What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” You nervously replied, not even letting your eyes move to the item in his fingers.

His softness of his face had you sinking into the bed, further than you thought possible. “Have a look, ‘s it say?” You asked him, watching his eyes blink before he turned to look at the item and read over what he had already seen once more to be completely sure.

Harry blew out this sigh. The kind that really caused his body to move down. “What do you want it to say?” He asked, voice deep.

You hated how his expression was so hard to read. Usually he was so expressive that he tended to give himself away, not this time.

You saw him flick off the light in your bathroom, feet carrying him to you and letting his knee dip into the bottom of the mattress. Eyes following his every move, you dropped them down to his hand and saw the way that you clenched the item in his grasp.

The longer he took to let you know what the outcome off your test, was the worst you began to feel. His eyes were shining when they met yours again, them taking in the worry etched upon your face.

“You’re making me nervous, stop it-“ you let your eyes flit between his as he silently crawled over you. “Harry, seriously-“

Dropping his nose to yours, he breathed out a happy laugh. This close lipped smile brushing its way into his lips as he let his lips hover over you.

“Let’s go take that bath together, Mommy.”

***

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lil-blueee · 3 years

Text

Redamancy | Takashi Mitsuya x Reader (Tokyo Revengers)

Redamancy (n.): The act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Treasure the time you spend together,

Treasure the ride in the evening time,

Treasure the confession under the night sky.

May you all feel the love and fall in love!

____________________

It is now eventide, the moment when the Sun deliberately goes down, exuding its vibrant red and orange rays that tints the former azure firmament. And here you are, resting on the leather chesterfield sofa while gazing at those skylights above. Broken lines of cumulus, or cotton-like clouds, are stretching for miles in the air, reflecting those fiery shades that intensifies the whole scene's saturation.

"Beautiful." You mumble, eyes lingering at that exquisite sight.

It doesn't take that long for a pitch black color to invade the sky, noticing that dusk is coming to your city. You raise up both arms to stretch that stiff upper body before a small growl grabs your attention. Looking at the clock, it's a quarter past six already.

"Guess he'll come back late tonight. I've to eat alone then."

You place your right hand on your stomach to feel that small rumbling sound - a signal for dinner time. The corners of your lips pull down to reveal a sad but so-be-it face. "Well, time to eat." You reheat the bento box in the microwave and prepare a glass of water before bringing them both to the table. Hands clasp together, you mumble, "Itadakimasu."

After finishing your meal, you sip a cup of warm tea while walking towards the bust mannequin, where the sleeveless white bridal gown is put on. Four different length of layers were sew from the waist line, covering half of the chapel train - the last and longest layer of the dress. To break free from the usual, monotonous gown, that man thoroughly embroidered roses on the left lateral, artfully arranged those small flowers from the shoulder to the side of the waist, and bigger ones when reaching the end of the train.

There's only one more piece left to complete the dress, a wedding veil. And it's also the final task for you - the girl making a messy bun for her wavy silver hair with apparent black highlights. Heading to the table where the folded tulle fabric is laying, you put the tea cup down, left hand slowly grabs your pair of black eyeglasses beside it. Eyes giving a quick glance at those thin lines drawn by tailor's chalk, you take one deep breath, ignoring some strains of hair falling down on the side and hold the sharp piece of scissors. After all, this dress is made for Hinata Tachibana, one of your best friends. I can't screw it.

You slowly cut off the excess length of the tulle until those metal blades return to their starting point, making the cabbage falls down the ground. Your other hand holds the outside edge of the fabric to trim its corners slightly, adding the curve for a graceful look. "Now then," A delighted smile appears on your face. Your sparkling gaze is looking through the edge of the veil again to see any jagged or uneven fabric needs cutting.

Immersing yourself in your work, you don't even recognize the presence of another man at the entrance, crossing his arms on one another. His head leans against the door frame, looking at you with those adoring droopy lavender eyes. "Quite meticulous, aren't you?" The lilac-haired mumbles, giving his compliment before he turns around and walks along the hall.

After that final touch, you sigh in relief, gently using your left hand surface to mop the sweat from your brow. "All we need to do is sew it. I should wait for Taka—" You startle. Whatever touches against your cheek literally makes your heart jump because of the cold sensation.

"What in the—" Like a natural reflex, you turn your head around to search for the source, but that sixth sense of yours can somehow guess the person standing behind this.

"You call for me?" He asks in a soft tone voice. In front of you right now is Takashi Mitsuya, a gentleman in his dark grey suit layered with a black shin length trench coat, projecting his professional image which instantly forms the first impression to anyone he meets. Hand passes you a bottle of water, the lilac-haired chuckles at the face he saw.

You keep staring at him, your eyebrows pull closer together while your lips tighten, making an angry but quite adorable face in his opinion. As you're about to give him a piece of your mind, his genuine smile immediately blows your anger away. That gentleman appearance, combining with his somewhat irresistible face are like a deadly combo suppressing your anger. How can I get mad like this? Placing your palm on the forehead, you ask yourself before telling him,

"You can just give it normal—"

Hold up! You pause when a thought runs through your mind and interrupts your speech. An idea? No, more like a revenge! Lower your face while smirking devilishly, one side of his slit eyebrow lifts up as he wonders what has got into you until...

"Actually, thank you very much, Takashi."

Calling for his name in a mischievous voice, you raise your slender hand not to take that bottle but to gently grab the other big, masculine one. Eyes lock with the others droopy lavender, you smile innocently as a way to express your affection toward him.

It doesn't take that long for the Second Division Captain to realize your intention. Instead of questioning about your rapid change in behavior, the lilac-haired decides to go along with your act. [First name]-chan, you're no match for me. His surprised face soon reveals a smirk, taking his time to respond you.

"My my~ you really mean it, [First name]?" said Mitsuya in a low tone voice.

He takes a few steps toward while you're doing the opposite, walking backward till your body hits the table without noticing. You startle but your attention is still drawn to his hand pulling the tie knot side to side to loosen that black plain necktie. This soon piques your curiosity. Is it because of the heat or he's doing it on purpose? However, judging the look on his face, you have every reason to eliminate the former assumption. Actually, no one will argue once they meet his sharp, yet flirtatious glance trying to lure you in his sweet trap. The gap is now shortened to only a few centimeters apart, Mitsuya rests both of his hands on the table to trap you inside then leans his lips closer to your reddened ear.

"Or you're asking for something else?" He whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

A flush of excitement is rising to your cheek, but you - my friend, show no signal of being dominated. In spite of the wild beating heart in your chest, you naturally grabs his tie and pulls it closer, looking straight into that man's eyes. "Make a guess."

Now you've done it. That confident expression of yours finally pulls the trigger for a massive explosion in his heart. It's not really something unexpected, but the Captain can't help himself whenever he sees you like this. The lilac-haired signs, looking down the ground to hide his defeated face. But, things won't end that easy.

"Alright, you said it. But," Unveiling a devilish smirk, his left hand wraps around your waist and gives a sudden pull, making your eyes widen from his unexpected move, "don't mad at me afterward."

The other hand is gently placing on your cheek before his thumb touches your lips. He's not gonna... There are butterflies in your stomach as you realize his intention, but sadly, it's too late to escape by now. Feeling his head is leaning closer, you place both hands on his chest to try and stop him though his body doesn't move a single bit. Hold up, hold up, hold up!!! Too close!

"Takashi, wait—" Your eyes shut immediately, knowing what he's about to do.

Mitsuya pauses when his lips are only a few centimeters away. That man is taking a glance at your heavily blushing face and secretly smiling to see this shy and nervous side of yours. Oh my, now I'm the meanie. He signs. Well then...

Soft. Something touches the tip your nose - a light kiss, as light as a feather. As your mind is still trying to comprehend the whole thing, his giggle soon gets you back to your senses.

"I'm just joking! You don't have to worry!" You open your eyes and freeze like a statue. Noticing how tense up you are, his hand gently caresses your cheek where the heat is still lingering around. "Did I scare you, [First name]-chan?"

You know the answer, don't you? Well, he did surprise you in a way but... why not let him guess a little longer? "Who would?" You mumble.

"Really? Shall we try again the—"

Like an instinct, your palm covers his lower face as you know he won't leave you time to answer.

"Not so fast. I won't be tricked again." You smile cheerfully because this time for sure, victory is in your hand. However, life rarely happens according to your plans, and especially when you are with him.

His gaze sharpens and that makes you think twice about your action. Just when you're about to let your hand down, the lavender-eyed holds it in position and gives your palm a kiss. You raise your eyebrows and are completely shocked at his gesture. Mitsuya gently places your hand in his palm, bowing down like a gentleman greets a lady before his lips touch your knuckles. This greeting gesture, hand-kissing, normally indicates courtesy and politeness but not in this case scenario.

"Are you sure about that, my Muse?" He asks with a mischievous smile.

And the Cupid - the god of love in the Ancient Roman, shots his arrow right through your heart, again. Love and passion are spreading out from your wound, making you fall for this man for... how many times you have lost count to be honest. The only difference is that you sink deeper and deeper every time the Cupid has his decision.

"So now you're into role play just simply because of the suit? And what Muse would wear a white tube top with grey sweatpants like me?" You chortle.

"Well, doing it once in a while isn't so bad though." He answers. "And you're always beautiful no matter what you wear."

That makes your heart skip a beat. He always says what in his mind, even if you're ready for it or not. "You sure are good with words." Whispering softly, you don't know what to do but to smile happily like a child.

"Anyway, how was the meeting with your customers?" You ask.

"The good news is we have a big order coming up. It's for their wedding and they chose the design already. One mermaid wedding dress and a tuxedo. We have to make five dresses for the bridesmaids too, so it's gonna be a busy week."

"Oh no, it's not that much... Lemme fainted a little." Without waiting him to respond, you let your head fall down on his shoulder, creating a big "thump" sound in the ears. The Captain is trying hard not to laugh by now. He gently pats that heavy head of yours.

"But still, I'll try my best to help. Can't let my beloved handle everything, right?" There you go, being mischievous again.

Wish you could see his face at that time. It was the most happiest face in the world. He wraps you in his arms for a full, warm embrace. "And I don't want my Muse to be exhausted too."

"But we'll put that aside for now. Wanna go for a ride? It must be bored to spend your whole day in the workshop."

Your eyes wide open to hear his suggestion. How long has it been since the last ride you guys had with each other? You're obviously happy to hear that but you're quite concerned about his health. "Maybe you should rest for today, you must be tired already."

"It's okay. I need to refresh my mind a bit. Lemme get change real quick." He gives you a light pat on your head.

Standing in front of the garage, you're gazing at Mitsuya, who is wearing an energetic set of cloth, opposite to the formal style earlier. He layers his white tee with a loose black baseball jacket with cream leather sleeves. This jacket was you two first couple cloth, and it was made by you-know-who. For the bottom, he puts on grey sweatpants and a pair of sneakers.

Your man is taking his baby Impulse out. The lavender-eyed is looking for something, your helmet. He slowly puts it on for you to ensure your safety while you sit behind him.

"Hold on tight." No matter how many times he has taken you out, that sentence always comes up first like a habit. Yes, you understand clearly that he cares about you, but seeing him like this somehow makes you want to tease him.

"Come on! It's not like my first time letting my boyfriend take me for a ride~" Leaning your body closer to his back, you slowly give that muscular body a hug from behind. The lilac-haired sighs, lowers his head before turning around.

"And it's not like my first time saying this to my girlfriend." He responds while gives you a light flick on your forehead. "I just want to make sure you'll feel safe."

You release your hands to touch the spot where he aimed. Knitting your eyebrows, you ask. "Alright, but do you have to give me a flick?"

"Cause I feel like it." Now your nose is being pinched. Right after when you try to react, Mitsuya grabs your hands and puts them around his waist again. "Alright, no more teasing. We'll be back late if we don't leave now."

You actively tighten your arms so that someone won't give a long lecture again. "Fine, baka Taka."

"That's my girl." Closing his eyes, those lips reveal a winsome smile before his black full face helmet covers it. Once everything is set, he starts the engine and drive you both to the main road.

Resting your head on his firm back, your eyes slowly observe the night life in the city, looking at those cars running on the road and how people spend the rest of their night. Every time the winds blow through your hair, they always give a sense of relaxation, relieving all the stress you have during those working hours.

You breathe out bit by bit, tighten your embrace without noticing, which is a good sign for the person sitting in front of you. Glad she's enjoying this. The lilac-haired chuckles in secret, feels glad at your reaction.

Fifteen minutes have passed by, you two leave the city center, driving on a deserted road that leads to an abandon outdoor parking space overlooking the city's view. This is his go-to place whenever he seeks for the tranquility and now, it's yours too. Mitsuya drives right to the spot where you can observe the mesmerizing scene below and parks his Impulse.

Arms in the air, you stand up and stretch your back after spending nearly the whole day in his workshop, helping him to finish the wedding dress on time. Turn your head around to look at the man sitting side saddle, you ask. "Just three days left. We'll finish Hina-chan dress before it, right?"

"Yeah, I only need to sew the veil and adjust the length of the dress a bit." Mitsuya responds before gazing at you with a delighted face. "It all thanks to your help! Your skills have improved a lot after two months."

"Really? Guess I have to thank someone being patient while teaching me too~" Your mind then recalls how many times he sighed and flicked your forehead when you messed up during your practice. Despite of that, your caring teacher always there to explain and demonstrate again and again. Also, you can't forget the times you injured yourself because of your clumsiness, and he was always there to help you. Those are the memories that you're always cherish.

"I'll still be in your care, Sensei~" You giggle.

Sitting beside the man you love, you lean your head on his shoulder while getting lost in thought. 12 years huh... They finally make it. The fact that Hanagaki could travel back in time is always unbelievable because to you, it's something that only appears in sci-fi movies. You're really grateful that he tries to save everyone even if he has to risk his life. Not knowing what the future may hold, every moment staying with Mitsuya just becomes precious and you truly appreciate it.

Hina-chan finally escapes from the Death, now they're about to engage. "I'm glad for them."

Hearing your mumble, his left arm, which wrapped around your waist, moves its way up to pat your head. Those fingers that he uses to design beautiful clothes are now gently stroking your hair.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks out of curiosity.

"I was thinking..." After a few seconds of consideration, you say something out of the blue "when will I become a bride?"

From your unexpected answer, Mitsuya completely freezes. His astonished face with raised eyebrows and wide-opened lavender eyes is fully drawn to you. Looks like someone's heart just skips a beat. You really are...

Not seeing the Captain react, you ask him with concern. "Taka— Wh—what???"

As you're about to lift your head up, his hand quickly covers your eyes, pressing it down to the old position. You're wondering what the heck is going, not knowing Mitsuya is facing the other direction, hands cover his face. He's making time for the blush to fade away but it's impossible when you're struggling like this.

"Stay still for awhile, will you?" A long sigh escapes from his lips when you're trying to pull his hand off.

After realizing how physically strong he is, you finally surrender. "Fine, I give up."

The atmosphere go into silent, no one has opened up first because you're waiting for him, and your boyfriend? He's still trying to calm himself down. Once Mitsuya gets back to his cool, usual shelf, he removes his hand to reveal your sound sleeping face.

"[First name]-chan?" He whispers.

Oh... She must be exhausted. Caressing your cheek before moving to your ear, his mind suddenly recalls your words. The Captain tries to move his other hand without waking you up, manages to take something out of his pocket. He then remains silent, eyes are focusing that small box lying in the palm of his right hand. "A bride, you said..."

His thumb opens the box, staring at the thing placing in the middle. For some reasons, your man hesitates before taking out the circle object, raising it up to the night sky and gazing deeply.

"You should fall for someone else." He mumbles.

"That's what I said when you confessed your feelings. But you, you still stay around after everything we went through, after knowing my background." Mitsuya pinches your cheek lightly because he doesn't want to interrupt your sleep.

"How stubborn you are."

You can feel something touch your face but only make an annoyed expression like a reflex.

"You always talk to me, run toward me whenever I'm around, and even learn how to sew. And just like that, I get familiar with your presence in my life."

"I used to think if you were in love with someone else, I would be rooting for you and make sure you find a good guy. But right now, I don't think I can let you go—— No, more like I won't let you go this time."

His hand puts something on your right ear. It's his other signature piercing - a black huggie earring with silver crosses.

"One for me, one for my most important person. Hope you won't laugh at my childish thought, I was young and bold." He chuckles at his own thought.

"I'm not ready to be your spouse yet, not when I'm still struggling with financial issues. I don't want my love to struggle it with me."

"Just a little more, will you wait for me, [First name]-chan?"

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #fanfic #tokrev mitsuya #mitsuya x you

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horansqueen · 3 years

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New Angel - Chapter 3

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.6k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

For some reason I ignored, Louis' only solution if I wanted to get over Grace was to have sex with an other girl. I had no idea where it came from, and I agreed that it could make me think about something else for a few hours, but he was delusional if he thought it would make the feelings I had for Grace disappear completely.

I wanted to, though. After seeing Grace again, I knew that getting over her was the only rational thing to do. I also knew it wouldn't be easy, but i guess it was part of the process of a heartbreak and I had to go through the pain, the anger, and the sadness no matter what. It didn't mean I couldn't try to push all of those feelings away for a while. The worst kind of pain is probably the pain that never stops. It hurts until it actually drives you insane, whether it's physically or mentally. If you get a few moments of respite, even while knowing the pain will come back, it was not as bad.

As soon as we walked into the club, I regretted it. Louis and I were more into pubs where we'd sit with friends and have a good laugh and a pint. This place was anything but a place where I could relax with friends. I had agreed to follow though and I kept in mind that whenever I would have enough, I could just take a cab and go back home.

Millie was dressed to kill. I had never seen her dressed like that. She was wearing a skirt and a tank top, had put make up on, and the necklace hanging from her neck seemed to shine with the lights of the room. She tilted her head slightly to touch one of her long earrings and I raised my eyebrows, wondering what exactly she was looking for. She turned to look at Louis who was looking around the room and after a few seconds, we both followed him to the bar, ordering a few drinks.

"Are you trying to get laid tonight?" I asked my friend, glancing at her as I leaned against the counter, my beer in hand.

"I thought the goal was to get you laid." she replied with an amused smile, raising her eyebrows and taking a sip from the colored beverage she had ordered.

"So did you dress like that for Louis then?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, moving her face closer to mine. "I dress only for myself, Horan." she explained, licking her lips. "Never forget that."

"I'm just not used to it." I shrugged, placing both my elbows on the counter behind me. "You're more the sweatpants and t-shirt kind of girl."

She glanced at me and sent me an amused smile. "Fat girls can wear nice clothes too, you know."

"You proved that, Millie, there's no doubt." I smiled more. "But there's nothing wrong with sweatpants."

Millie didn't answer and I turned to her, noticing she was actually scanning the room. It took her a few minutes and she just sighed and turned to look at me.

"I noticed about 6 girls that could be your type." she pointed out. "I'm sure you won't have any problem to pick a girl tonight."

"My type?" I chuckled, grimacing. "I don't have a type."

"Tall, skinny, brunette, sexy. I can't tell their personalities from here but she's also got to be cheeky, flirty, and an attention seeker."

"That's rude."

"No, it's true."

I pushed my free hand in one of my pockets and took a long sip of my beer. I was a bit annoyed and insulted from Millie's words but I couldn't say she was wrong. Perhaps I didn't see the girls I crushed on in the same light as she did, and clearly, I didn't have the same relationship with them than she did, but at that moment, I decided to pick someone who was totally not my ‘type’ just to spite my friend and prove her wrong.

My eyes traveled on the room to find someone interesting. First, she had to be blonde, second, It would be even better if she was a bit shy. I noticed a cute girl sitting at a table on the other side of the room. She was looking around the room, nibbling on her bottom lip as if she was uncomfortable to be here, and when some of her friends got up, she seemed panicked. One of the grabbed her hand, pulling her with the rest of them and she shook her head a few times before giving in.

"Okay," I let out, swallowing what was left of my beer. "I'm ready."

Millie chuckled and got up from the stool she was sitting on. "Go, Romeo. I'll try to find Louis." she just said. "Will you bring her back home?"

"I'll try."

"Well if you do, text us so we're not surprised tomorrow morning, okay?"

I just chuckled and left, walking quickly to the girl who was now dancing in the middle of the dance floor. She started laughing with her friends and before I could reach her, she twirled on herself and finally bent down to tell something to her friends and left. It was weird to follow her again but when she reached the bar, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to talk to her.

"Hi." I said, bending down and sending her a smile when she turned to me.

Her face changed and she smiled back at me, clearly a bit embarrassed. She was exactly what I needed. She tilted her head slightly and started playing with a lock of her hair as I tried to keep the focus on her eyes. They were blue, but a darker shade than what we normally see, or maybe it was just because of the lights of the place, and her blonde hair was cascading down her back. She was pretty, very pretty, and when she pressed her lips together, I wanted to kiss her.

"Hi."

"Uhm, hey, can I buy you a drink?"

She seemed to hesitate and glanced back at her friends still going crazy on the dance floor before her eyes met mine again. She glanced away again and finally, she nodded quickly.

"Okay, sure." she smiled more. "I'm Summer."

"Nice to meet you, Summer." I replied, moving slightly closer. "Niall."

"So, you're here by yourself, Niall?"

I chuckled, sliding a bill on the counter when the bartender came back with her drink and turned to face her. "No, I'm here with a few friends. There's somewhere around."

"I'm here with friends too, but they're all a bit drunk." she explained, pointing behind us.

I turned to look at her friends laughing and dancing again and chuckled, raising my eyebrows and looking back at her. For some reason, I felt like her name suited her perfectly. Was it crazy to feel like she was a warm breeze on my cold broken heart? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Summer could make me forget Grace for a few hours, and I really needed it.

They were so different that nothing from Summer's physical appearance to her personality could remind me of Grace. Still, I surprised myself to compare them, and it bothered me. I breathed in and closed my eyes for a few minutes, trying to remind myself that it was impossible for me to forget completely Grace just because one pretty girl smiled to me.

We talked together for about half an hour and every time she laughed, it made me smile more. She was like an angel appearing in my life at my worst time and somehow, she made me feel like it was possible to be happy again. We had a few drinks together and when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, I grabbed it and read Louis' text message.

'We're leaving. If you need us, we'll be in my room.'

I chuckled and sent him a thumb up emoji before looking back at Summer. I let my eyes travel on her and groaned low when my eyes fell on the top of her dress. I hadn't had sex in over a month and it was getting to my head.

"Niall? Are you alright?"

I looked up at her again and chuckled, a bit embarrassed that I had been caught. I scratched the back of my head and raised my nose up in a grimace. "I'm sorry, you're just so fucking beautiful and... You wanna come to my place?"

She seemed surprised but her lips still curled slightly as she stared at me. "That's quite bold of you." she replied before giggling. "Do I look like the kind of girl who sleeps on the first night?"

My lips parted and suddenly, I felt stupid and guilty. It probably showed in my face because she started laughing louder and I exhaled.

"Niall, relax, I'm just kidding!" she smiled more, getting up. "Give me your address and phone number."

"Why?"

"So I can give them to my friend. You know, just in case you're a serial killer."

I took my drivers license out of my wallet and handed it to her. She quickly typed on her phone before looking up at me and tilting her head again. "So, do you have a car or we have to get a cab?"

I smiled at her and we ended up in the back of a cab, her lips pressed against mine. They were warm and I could have sworn her lipstick tasted like strawberries. I ran my hand on her naked thigh, moving up slowly, but she pressed her legs together, stopping me from going farther.

"I'm sorry." I whispered against her mouth, moving my hand away.

"No it's okay, I'd just rather wait until we're at your place."

I nodded and sent her a small smile, letting my eyes roam on her face. She was so different than Grace. In fact, she was different than all the girls I dated before, and if my memory served me right, from all the girls I had sex with, too. I didn't know what it was, I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something about her that made me nervous. I was scared to do the wrong thing, or say something that would embarrass her, or make her mad. It was not a bad thing, I was just not used to that kind of girl, and I couldn't say I didn't like it. Uncertainty was somehow exciting, and the fact that I couldn't predict what she'd say, do, or how she'd react made me more attentive to everything I did.

It was dark when we walked in my apartment but immediately, I recognized Millie's whimpers and I closed my eyes and groaned low, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't mind my roommates, they're probably fucking in one of their rooms." I whispered as Summer followed me to the hall.

She chuckled and I turned to look at her just as the moon illuminated her face from the window and it made my lips curl. If I was with Grace, I would have told her something like, 'let's show them what we can do' or 'I'm sure we can outdo them' but with Summer, I had no idea if she'd think it was appropriate or not and I decided to keep silent.

I didn't take time to turn the light of my room on, I just closed the door behind myself and pulled Summer close to me, her body pressed against mine, only half a second before my lips pressed against hers. She followed my lead and that too, was a bit new. I was used to be with girls who knew what they wanted and would go get it. Summer was letting me take control, stopping me when she thought I was going too far.

I ran my lips on her neck, smelling the sweetness of her perfume, and she let out a very low whimper when I moved her dress up until her waist. I was impatient and I wanted her. Perhaps it was only because I hadn't had sex in a while, or maybe it was because I knew it would make me forget about Grace for about an hour, or maybe it was Summer who had that effect on me. It didn't matter, and I tried to push all those reflections at the back of my mind to focus on the way her body moved against mine.

I brought her to the bed, my lips attached to hers, and when I slipped my hand in her panties, I felt my cock twitch in my pants.

"Fuck, I want you so bad." I whispered before helping her lay down on my bed.

I moved on top of her and her hands ran on my back, under my shirt, leaving a warm trail on their way. They moved around me and she reached for my pants, unzipping them and pulling them off slowly. It was not the pace I was used to either and I started feeling dizzy but when her hand wrapped around my cock, I let out a curse word and blinked a few times, getting used to the dark. She was smiling and I smiled back at her as I felt her spread her legs a bit more.

"There's no rush, right?" she asked in a very low tone.

"There's no rush."

She sat up and pulled her dress over her head, moving it gently as her hair danced around her face, and I suddenly regretted that I didn't turn on the light. She sent me a shy but big smile and laid back down as I pulled on her panties slowly. She moved her hips up and the sight was amazing. I looked at her, laying naked on my bed, and I realized the constant pain in my stomach was not there anymore. I didn't know when it would come back, but I didn't want to think about it. I grabbed the back of my shirt to take it off, letting it fall on the floor and took the time to take my pants off, bringing my boxers with them.

Slowly, I moved on top of her and kissed her deeply, reaching at the same time for my bedside table. I grabbed a condom in the first drawer and Summer chuckled, making me move away slightly.

"You can reach them with your eyes closed?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "I'm thinking this isn't the first time you bring a girl you barely know in your room."

I let my eyes roam on her face as my lips parted. I couldn't tell her I was used to make this move because every single time my ex girlfriend and I had sex, I would grab a condom in my drawer exactly this way. I couldn't tell her I was heartbroken and using sex as an escape from the pain killing me inside. I couldn't tell her that she was probably a rebound and that I was still not over my ex girlfriend. Instead, I decided to turn it into a joke.

"Are you jealous?" I asked with a smirk before chuckling.

"Mm, very." she replied, joking too, as her hands ran on my shoulders and slid on my chest. "But you're with me now."

I stared at her and my amused smiled turned into a fond one. "Yes, I'm with you now."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan au #niall horan writing #niall horan story #niall horan love story #my fanfics #newangel

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stariwrites · 3 years

Text

Cactus Juice

This is for @doinmybesthere ATLA Collab the line up is amazing!!! I’m so excited to read all of them!

Pairing: Before Dabi and the reader get together (Reader is gender neutral)

Warnings: Slight angst, talking about abuse (dabi’s end, there’s not too much detail but it’s still talked about), brief mention of death, pining, becoming closer, Au, Dabi is the avatar and a water bender(basically if Zuko was the avatar but was a water bender before figuring it out), spoiler containing Hawks’ real name

Genre: Fluff and hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: “Do you want to know the real reason I’m afraid of fire?”

You nodded.

“I’m afraid that when I wield it, it will bring nothing but pain and that I’ll be just like him.” His eyes held a familiar gleam to them. “I don’t want to be like him.”

“Again.” Dabi almost yelled in the empty arena. Crimson flowed from his lip, gliding down his chin but he only wiped it off with a huff. He wanted, no he needed to get this technique right. The lives of his friends all depended on it. He couldn’t afford to be a failure, not again.

From the other side of the arena, you hesitated before putting yourself back into a fighting stance. Even though you were far away the outline of his chest heaving for breath was visible. There was no doubt he was pushing himself. You gulped at the way his eyes took on an animalistic gleam. It wasn’t that Dabi necessarily scared you because he saved your life on more than one occasion, but when he got like this there was no telling what he would do.

It reminded you of the way he was when you first met, he was brash, distant, and above all cruel. It took a lot of time, but he gained all of your trust and changed from the boy he used to be to the man he is now.

Even though he was on your side, you were still hesitant towards him. You got along as well as expected considering you were a firebender and he was a waterbender who also happened to be the avatar. He made it known he didn’t like you and you weren’t about to go head to head with him.

“Why don’t we take a break for now,” you tried to reason, rolling your shoulders. “I’m getting pretty tired and after we can train again, how’s that sound?” It wasn’t a complete lie, after all the two of you had to have been training for a few hours now. You wouldn’t mind being able to relax.

Taking his silence as agreement you turned your back and began to walk towards the stands, where the water pouch was. It wasn’t until you opened it and went to hand it to Dabi that you realized he didn’t follow you.

Turning back around, you noticed he was still rooted in place. “Hey man, you okay?”

No response.

Slowly you began to approach him. You knew something must’ve happened to him in his childhood, having fire lord Enji as a dad of all people must’ve been more than difficult. He never told any of you what happened and you were fine with that: if he wanted to tell you that should be his choice.

Sometimes however, you wished you knew something other than the fact that the fire lord drove his wife to burn Shoto, the youngest. Part of you wished he was with you, he’d know what to do while you were left in the dark.

“Dabi,” you made sure to keep your voice even and soft. “Can you hear me?”

His head was facing the ground almost as if he wished it would swallow him up while his body trembled underneath the sun’s glare. You kept your distance, not wanting to startle him before you called his name again.

“You think I’m weak, don’t you?” He refused to look at you, his tone holding the same edge but there was a sense of vulnerability behind it.

You stopped in your tracks.

“What?” You choked out. Your eyes widening at his words. He wasn’t serious was he? Him, weak? There was no way.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He focused his gaze back on you and the sight made your heart drop. There were noticeable bags under his eyes as well as a scrape on his lower lip. He looked tired, defeated.

Taking your silence as agreement, he scoffed, mumbling out a ‘forget it’ before he began to walk away.

No no no no no no, you were just making progress too! Without hesitation you grasped his wrist. It wasn’t until he glared down at you that you realized what you did. He raised an eyebrow as you heard the sound of a nearby rock being lifted from the ground.

“Got it,” you said, “removing the hand, but that’s not it at all!”

The two of you were basked in silence until he smirked.

“Well?”

It wasn’t the same as his usual ones, but it was a start. You watched him for a second longer before he let out a sigh.

“I’m listening.”

“Oh,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “Right.”

He stood still, waiting for you to continue. On the outside you were completely composed, but on the inside you were internally screaming. Great, what were you supposed to do now? You better have one damn good speech if you want Dabi to stay.

Deciding to wing it, you began to say whatever came out of your mouth in hopes it would be the right call. You told him about the countless times he saved you, the way he’d encourage Keigo, how he always gave into Toga’s antics and made her feel better, how good he was with Shoto, all of it. How strong he really was, and how after everything you’ve gone through with him there was nothing you didn’t think he could do.

“That’s why,” you concluded with a smile on your face. “I know that you’ll be able to firebend, and not just be able to, you’ll fucking ace it.”

You were breathless after the long winded speech, satisfied until panic took over. You glanced up at Dabi with wide eyes. That was probably way too much, what if you just overwhelmed him? What if he thinks your weird now-or even worse what if he hates you again.

A sharp laugh broke you out of your thoughts. Dabi’s head was thrown back revealing his forehead. The sound was genuine and full of life. If you weren’t so shocked by it, you would’ve been in awe. Alas, you were still prepared for imminent doom.

Once he calmed down he could only shake his head at you.

“You really are something.”

With that he started to walk away once more. Your expression fell. You must’ve messed up, until you heard the familiar nickname. ‘Cactus Juice.’

You gasped rushing after him. “That was one time!”

“Still counts!” He yelled, disappearing into the landscape.

You looked around the area, the vibrant green making a home in your mind as you tried to find him. “We were in the desert and I was thirsty!”

“Still did it!”

“You weren’t even there!”

“Keigo told me.”

You groaned. Of course he did. He was the first to bring Dabi in with open arms, he was an optimist that way. He believed anybody could change if they really wanted to which is why he was the group’s heart.

The two of you continued to race after each other throughout the day until the sun began to set. Collapsing in the shade of a tree near the arena you attempted to catch your breath while your heart beat tirelessly against your chest.

You focused on the way explosions of purples and blues and pinks as well as a vibrant orange colored the sky. It was beautiful.

Beside you, Dabi fell on his back, hitting the ground with a soft thud. You laughed slightly.

“Same,” was all you could say, but you knew he got the gist.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, under the summer breeze as the sun was replaced with glowing stars. You would’ve stayed there forever. It was warm and for one moment you wished you could stay in the moment forever.

“Thank you,” Dabi’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You leaned up on your elbows and looked down at him. “For what?”

He gestured around, eyes still looking above him. “All of this, I haven’t uh-” he cut himself off with a cough. “I haven’t been this relaxed since I can’t remember when.”

Oh. You laid back down. “You’re welcome I guess, I mean I didn’t really do anything.” You laughed slightly.

“Believe me, you’ve done more than you give yourself credit for.”

Silence fell between the two of you like the summer breeze, only this time it was colder than before. Getting up the courage you turned to face him. His black hair was out of his face, an easy smile replaced the usual smirk. You gulped.

“I can hear you thinking over there,” he cracked an eye open. “You can ask me about my childhood, I’m not going to crush you.”

You snorted, the tension leaving your shoulders. You took a deep breath before you spoke, “Why are you so afraid of fire?”

He looked away once more. “A good question, look I don’t know how much you know about my dad, but he wanted the avatar, or at least he wanted one of us to be it. I used to want to do anything to make him proud,” his voice contained nothing but sadness.

You grasped his hand, your body moving on it’s own for the second time that day. You were about to remove it with an apology once more, but he beat you to it. He interlocked your fingers together. The small smile appeared once more.

He continued. “It wasn’t until Shoto had two quirks that my father believed he was the avatar, he tossed my sister, brother and I to the urb and began to “train” him. I couldn’t do anything, all I could do was listen to his cries and our mom screaming.” Tears began to fall from his face causing your heart to twist.

“Dabi-” You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to continue, that you shouldn’t have asked, but he only shook his head.

“‘S okay. I want to tell you.”

With that you fell silent and instead opted to run your thumb over his in what you hoped were reassuring circles. He squeezed your hand in return.

“I remember being at the fountain, thinking I didn’t have any bending abilities, and that I was a failure just like the firelord said, but that’s when I realized I could bend water. I told my mom with a smile on my face thinking that I’d finally be worth something, but you should’ve seen the look on her face. She was terrified and told me to keep it a secret. I didn’t understand it at the time, but that decision saved my life. She saved my life.

Fast forward a bit and Shoto is still forced to train and one day the burns were so bad that I finally had enough,” his voice breaks. “I healed him, I didn’t know I could do it, but I just didn’t want to see him hurt anymore. Long story short the firelord found out and he knew it was Rei, he knew it was my mom who told me not to say anything and I-”

His body racked with sobs, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him to your chest. Tears of your own were falling, but you refused to let him go. He kept all of that to himself, while you were traveling and taking the fire nation down he was carrying that too. You wanted to take his pain away even though you knew it was impossible. You wanted to try even if all you could do was stand by and support him. How did somebody so strong think they were so weak?

Once his sobs turned into sniffles he pulled away and stared into your eyes. “He killed her. Right in front of us, so that night I took all of my siblings and fled. Natsuo and Fuyumi are taking refuge in the Earth kingdom while Shoto and I went where we could. We couldn’t stay in one place for too long or else they’d find us. They had spies everywhere, firebenders who wanted the bounty he put on our head, That’s why-”

“That’s why you didn’t trust me when we first met, isn’t it.”

The silence was enough of an answer.

“Do you want to know the real reason I’m afraid of fire?”

You nodded.

“I’m afraid that when I wield it, it will bring nothing but pain and that I’ll be just like him.” His eyes held a familiar gleam to them. “I don’t want to be like him.”

“You won’t be.”

You could tell by the way his eyes widened that those were the last words he thought you would say. Wiping away your eyes you shrugged. “What? It’s the truth. You don’t want to be like him so don’t. He only uses fire to bring pain use it for something else. Find your own meaning behind your fire.”

He spluttered on his words. “It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is, after all Shoto is a firebender and you don’t think he will turn evil, do you?”

He was about to speak before he closed his mouth once more, forming it into a pout. “No.”

“See! It’s easy,” you perked up and clapped your hands. “We’ve been going about this all wrong! Instead of training we should focus on what your fire means to you. Ooh, we can make a list or even brainstorm or-”

A splash of water snaps you out of your rambling.

“Alright! That’s enough, geez I forgot how annoying you are sometimes.” You would’ve been insulted, but the words didn’t hold any mirth and his expression was back to peaceful, only this time it looked like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders.

“That’s fair.”

“If you tell anybody what I said-”

“You’ll skin me alive?” You looked in his direction snorting at the way he instantly stopped what he was about to say. “I got it, besides what happens between us stays between us. Thank you,” he raises a questioning brow causing you to continue. “For trusting me I mean, that was a lot and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me.”

You didn’t miss the blush dusting across his cheeks as he turned away from you. “Don’t mention it.”

You might’ve been crazy, but you could’ve sworn you heard a faint.

“Thank you for being somebody I could trust.”

-Bonus-

“So,” Keigo started with a grin at seeing the two of you come back to the site the four of you had set up. His blond hair was messy but blown back out of his face. He stood tall and from what you could tell was well rested. Good, he was going to need it for the ass kicking he was about to receive. “How was your field trip?”

He fixed his gaze to Dabi with interest. “Learn how to firebend yet?”

Dabi smirked and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Nope, but you might want to run.”

“Run?” He snorted, nose crinkling slightly. “Why would I need to?” His eyes lit up in recognition before he tsked. “Oh Dabi, you really want to try and chase me again? I’m not the fastest air bender for no reason you know.”

That earned a genuine snort out of the man. “It’s not me this time, you see I may have told a little somebody that a birdie told me about the Cactus Juice incident.”

Keigo’s expression fell from shock, to panic to utter horror in five seconds flat. “Oh shit.”

“Keigo!” You screeched, rushing towards the two men.

Dabi could only watch in mild amusement before leaning down and whispering, “I think you should start running.”

With that Keigo took off with you in toe shouting for him to come down from the air and fight you himself. He could only shake his head when Toga got involved, joining your side immediately while Shoto looked towards Dabi with furrowed brows until he gestured for his brother to join the chaos.

Eventually he’d be roped into it too, but for now he’d silently thank his lucky stars for having the friends he did and as he watched you tackle Keigo shouting about how you won and to taste defeat like the traitor he was he hoped the two of you could be something more in the future.

For reference: Shoto is 15, Dabi and Hawks are 23, Reader is around their age and Toga is 17

taglist: @yixxes @chaos-night @hoefornanami @oilivia @renegades247

#dabi x reader #dabi imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha dabi #mha dabi #ATLA collab #bnhacity #paccheri’s place🏡#stariwrites #cw mentions of abuse #cw mentions of death #dabi x gender neutral reader

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starlocked01 · 4 years

Text

Dyeing to Meet You

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: When your eyes could be the color of any shade of hair dye, Roman is positively upset his soulmate won't change colors. Especially since his color of choice is black. Content Warning: brief mention of kidnapping

Day 27 Prinxiety, background Intrulogical- Your eye color matches the color of your soulmate's hair, even when they dye it.

Roman kinda really hated his soulmate. Most people had brown or yellow eyes. His grandmother had silvery eyes that sparkled in the light. Remus had been a bit surprised when his rosey auburn irises went bleach blond for 3 months and then disappeared completely for a week. It had been pretty good evidence his soulmate was on the swim team so he'd started flirting with all of them, looking for brown eyes with a silver streak.

For the past four years, Roman’s eyes had been jet black. They never lightened, never sparkled, and he was convinced they were costing him leading roles in the school productions.

Roman decided to get even with his soulmate.

First, he got his hair bleached. After two weeks of rehabilitation, he had his hair dyed a bright bloody looking red. ---- Virgil woke up and found that his eyes had changed from bleached to the coolest shade of red ever. It worked so perfectly with his favorite red and black eyeshadow designs. Anytime someone pissed him off, all he had to do was stare at them and they left him alone quickly.

His soulmate had the best taste in color. ---- After a month, Roman’s hair had faded mostly pink and his eyes were still demonic. Not even slightly less black. Perhaps red had been a bit too natural. Next, he bought a bottle of dye and went full purple. It was a terrible job but it had to get the message across. ---- Virgil loved his soulmate. The purple with streaks of pinkish-yellow was absolutely edgier than the red that had faded so quickly. He wondered why the colors were changing so rapidly after natural brown hair for so long but shrugged it off. Perhaps his soulmate was just exploring his own identity. ---- Remus had managed to find Logan once his hair started growing back in its natural color. He was probably more enthusiastic than Roman was about his soulmate. The jet black eyes were still bothering him. It was time to get drastic. ---- Virgil stared in the mirror. One eye was still purple but the other was green. A wide grin broke across his face and he hoped his soulmate kept this style for a while. It was a shame he hadn't found anyone with such wild hair colors yet. Patton was watching for him too but it wasn't easy to find a soulmate unless they did something crazy.

He really wanted to meet them though. ---- Roman was at his wits' end. Nothing got the message across. Nor could he find anyone with wildly colored eyes and jet black hair. He decided it was time for his most daring attempt yet.

He went and got his hair bleached again. After 2 months of getting it progressively lightened he finally had platinum blond hair and was ready for the ultimate revenge.

Full Rainbow.

Roman adored his new look, as gay as he could make his hair, and he laughed every time he thought of his soulmate with rainbow eyes he couldn't change. ---- Virgil had an aesthetic. His eyes were no longer playing by his rules and looked gay as fuck. He guessed his soulmate was a gay boy who was probably very very flamboyant. Well, he wasn't flamboyant but he could match the energy of his tie-dye rainbow eyes. He started wearing rainbow eyeshadow instead of black, citing his eyes as the reason why.

He smiled, knowing his soulmate couldn't get to him. He kept dying his hair black with bangs long enough to hide behind if he didn't want his splash of colors immediately seen. ---- Remus was amazed he'd managed to drag his no-nonsense boyfriend and utterly preppy brother to a music festival. Although he might have been the only one enjoying himself. Logan was standing stoically still as Remus tried to get him to dance along or mosh or anything.

Roman sipped on his drink and stared at the sea of dyed hair, frightened of what kind of person might be his soulmate when Logan pointed out someone and whispered to Remus. Remus dashed off into the crowd and came back dragging another boy about their age with jet black hair and long bangs, head tilted down, and a scowl on his face.

"Let me go! I don't know you and I will press charges!" the boy shouted as Remus brought him back.

"Oh hush up and let destiny work its magic," Remus scolded, shoving the boy towards Roman, "look Ro, he could be your soulmate."

"Remus, you should have talked with him first. That was kidnapping," Logan glared at Remus.

"Eh, what's a felony conviction when true love is on the line?"

"I don't believe in true love, can I go back to my friend now?" the boy stared down at the ground. Roman found him fascinating, everything about him was as black as his own eyes and his sour personality had Roman intrigued.

"What color are your eyes, stranger?" Roman tried to ask warmly. He could see the movement as the boy's eyes flicked to look at him through his bangs.

"Your head looks like a box of crayons, what are you even doing here?" the boy smirked.

"I'm here with my friends, Count Monochrome," Roman scoffed.

"I'm pretty sure you guaranteed I'm never monochromatic," Virgil looked up, tossing his bangs to the side, eyes and eyeshadow on display.

"Oh my…" Roman stared into dazzling rainbows that perfectly matched his hair. Logan elbowed Remus with a smirk.

Virgil laughed, "look, I really dig the purple, and the green, and the red, basically all of it. Please never go back to brown."

"Well, only if you change to something less terrifying!" Roman found his voice again and laughed at Virgil’s shocked expression.

"Wait, you don't like the black?" Virgil asked nervously fingering his hair.

"Look at my eyes and tell me you would," Roman scoffed.

Virgil stepped closer, staring into Roman’s eyes, "I love them. Your eyes look so cool and edgy and mesmerizing. Yeah of course I would like black eyes."

Roman stared back helplessly, breath caught in his throat because of Virgil’s colorful gaze.

"Oh just kiss already!" Remus interjected, snickering at the two.

"Pass," Virgil raised a hand and shot a look at Remus.

"Why not?" Roman asked quietly.

"Uh, we just met. I don't even know your name. And it's possible someone else out there has rainbow hair and black eyes so like, we can't know for sure, right? Not until one of us changes," Virgil took a step back, not liking that he had to explain his thought process.

"You're right, I'm sorry… would you be willing to test the theory with me?" Roman backed off. He liked this rainbow-eyed emo and couldn't put his finger on why, "I'm Roman, what's your name?" he offered a hand to shake.

Virgil ignored the offered hand, "Virgil, and sure. We can try. What did you have in mind, Roman?"

"Well, you dig the purple, right?" ---- Roman was much better at dyeing other people's hair than his own. Virgil let him bleach out a swath of black and color it with the purple Roman had leftover. They avoided each other’s eyes until the dye was set and Virgil had rinsed and washed it well. He came out of the shower with his black skinny jeans on and a towel wrapped around his shoulders, stained black and purple from years of use. Roman looked up and met his eyes.

Virgil gasped. Instead of pure jet black eyes, Roman now had purple irises rimmed in black, similar to his hair. And he thought they were just as stunning as before.

Roman quickly pulled out his phone to check and gasped as well.

"Sorry, if I had known you didn't like the black, I wouldn't have changed a thing," Virgil grinned as Roman stood and walked toward him.

"Thank you for trusting me, Virgil," Roman smiled and held out his arms for a hug.

"I'm just glad you were right," Virgil blushed but accepted the hug from his soulmate.

It was a lot more fun to decide colors together.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#Soulmate September 2020 #tsshipmonth2020 #Prinxiety #background intrulogical #soulmate au #eyes #eye contact #kidnapping mention #swearing #roman sanders #virigl sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #yes logan is a red headed jock #patton mentioned like once

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joonsrack · 4 years

Text

Masterpiece | KTH x KNJ

+PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: Oneshot, crack, angst, smidge of smut, College AU, stranger to lover

+WORD COUNT: ~13k

+RATING: 18+

+WARNING: Taehyung has face blindness, NSFW, (very) foul language, overuse of the word penis and it’s synonyms, pinning, misunderstandings, Namjoon is like real’ dumb, a little hanky panky but nothing scandalous.

+SUMMARY:

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his [REDACTED], but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung.

(OR the one where Taehyung has face blindness but that won't stop him from finding love. )

+A/N: Well, it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted anything, and almost as much time since i last wrote anything (except for the occasional guilt writing lmao). So this is me coming back with a vengeance (and the dumbest thing i’ve ever written). This is all thanks to (or to be blamed on) @minloop who put up with my non-stop messaging, gave me some plot ideas, and actually inspired me to finish this in three days. Thank you to my baby @emojihobi for the emotional support and the beta reading 💖

+Disclaimer: I got all my info on face blindness from google searches, so please forgive any inaccuracy.

Face blindness has definitely made Taehyung’s life difficult.

There’s the obvious problem of not being able to recognize your parents. Remember this childhood trauma of holding a random stranger’s hands in the mall, thinking it’s your mother or father? Taehyung had to live through that many, many times; except he wouldn’t realize until said stranger would shake his hand off, or until his parents would swoop in to get him. The fact that he’s never been kidnapped is down to pure luck, really.

Making friends, you guessed it, has also been a challenge. It’s difficult explaining to kids why you ignored them when you saw each other in the hallway. Kids don’t always understand “I didn’t recognize you” as an explanation, especially if you’ve been in the same class since pre-k.

But this? This is a new and unforeseen crisis.

His dorm room is very quiet, which is not unusual since he has a solo room. But he’s pretty sure he went to sleep with a plus one, and said plus one is nowhere to be seen.

Now, he isn’t a stranger to one-night stands sneaking out after he falls asleep. He likes to take night conquests to his dorm room for this exact reason; He can go right to sleep, while they take themselves out. Easy breezy no string attached-y. That’s usually the way he wants it to be.

But this time is different. Last night was different. Last night, Taehyung had the best night of his life, hands down. Best bangs of his existence. Bangs plural because they went more than once. How that’s even possible when his teenage years are long gone and days with multiple orgasms are less and less common, he has no idea.

He’s probably ruined for anyone else. Nothing could ever compare to the night he just spent getting his back blown out.

Now, Taehyung is a sculptor. A very gifted one at that (if his teachers’ praises are anything to go by). Taehyung knows body proportions, knows perfect rations, all that stuff. He knows it on marble bodies, in sketches, in painting. Not on actual human beings.

Until last night.

Last night, he witnessed the body of a god. He scratched at perfect skin, held on to beautifully defined and strong arms, rode perfect thighs. Last night, he shed a tear at the view of some perfect knees. Last night, he realized that art truly imitates nature.

And that’s not all.

Taehyung can admit he owns a nice dick; it’s decently shaped, the color is nice, and the size is slightly over average.

But what he witnessed the night before?

The Narcissus of dicks; the most beautiful dick on the planet. The most beautiful dick in history . Probably even prettier than Narcissus’ face himself. (But Taehyung doesn’t know what Narcissus' face looks like, so he’s only assuming.)

From the perfect red color of its beautifully shaped head to the gracefully intertwined veins leading to a sturdy looking hilt, peppered with well-kept pubic hair, ending in an exquisitely wrinkled ballsack. The girth was over average; big enough to make size queens (such as Taehyung) salivate, but not big enough to scare away enthusiasts. And the length? The dude is lucky he’s a grower and not a show-er, or he would never know peace. Mainly because the likes of Taehyung or Park Jimin would never let him be.

But where is that most perfect penis right now?

Attached to its perfectly shaped and mysterious owner, probably miles away.

Very problematic, indeed.

“So what you’re saying is, you fell asleep, and when you woke up he was gone? Isn’t that how it’s usually supposed to go?” Yoongi sounds disgruntled on the other end of the face call, face half mushed in his pillow, hair disheveled and eyes squinty. It’s not yet 1 pm after all, which is still considered morning for people like Min Yoongi.

“Noooo, not this time.” Taehyung whines,” This time he was supposed to stick around and ask me to marry him in the morning. Isn’t that obvious? We went at it four times for fuck sake, doesn’t that mean anything anymore?”

Jimin chokes on his matcha oatmeal milk latte, eyes going wide. “Four times?! Now that is a monster stamina. He basically squeezed your balls dry.” There’s a pause, then he says to someone off-camera, “It’s rude to stare, ma’am.”

“Stop ruining my morning with your screaming,” Yoongi grunts out, rubbing his eyes. “So what do you want us to do about this?”

Taehyung fumbles around his desk for a moment, looking through his piles of sketches until he finds it, his only clue.

“Do you two know this man?” He asks, pulling out a sketch he did quickly off his memory of the mystery man’s body. He pulls out a second one, this one is a close-up of his perfect penis. He might have gone off tangent with the shading, but he couldn't stop himself, that dick deserves all the shading.

“Jesus fuck.” Yoongi signs.

“Baby, I’m sure you’re aware that if I knew anyone with a body and a dick like that, you would never have been able to put your dirty paws on him.”

Taehyung turns hopeful eyes to Yoongi after glaring at Jimin for a good 10 seconds, but Yoongi only shakes his head no.

“I don’t have a habit of making my friends strip around me, sadly. I wouldn’t be able to tell even if I knew him.”

“You two are useless” Taehyung signs, his body deflating. Yoongi takes offense and hangs up. Or maybe he was going to hang up either way.

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his penis, but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung.

“I was busy sucking his dick, asshole.” He spits, but Jimin only snorts in answer.

“Good luck finding the owner of Mystery Penis.” He quips back, before hanging up as well.

All hope is lost. Never in his life has he despised his face blindness as much as he does right now. Of course, it’s never been easy dealing with it throughout his life. He’s lucky he has two solid friends he can count on. Although Jimin regularly dyes and changes his hairstyle without warning to mess with him. And Yoongi basically has two hours of availability per week, usually arranged around his sleeping schedule.

But he knows they care for him, and he cares for them.

He drags his feet to class. He uses ‘class’ lightly; being a third-year means most of his courses are spent in the workshop, working on his graduate exhibition.

He’s got his trusty overalls on, covered in clay stains. He’s been working with clay for the last few weeks, using the medium for two of his exhibition pieces.

He greets his teacher at the front desk with a nod, before making his way to his desk. Today’s playlist consists of oldies, and he makes it to his desk just as Lionel Richie’s voice fills the room.

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

Hello is a classic of sculpting classes. No matter the teacher or the Instructor, they all love to play that song on repeat, and he usually doesn’t pay it any mind. But right now, isn’t there a more perfect song to taunt him?

Lionel Richie asks if it’s him he’s looking for, as he’s pulling his tool out of his bag. He unwraps the plastic wrap from around the latest project he’s been working on, already planning his next move.

He’s pretty sure the sculpting world is all over that song only because of the music video.

It’s obvious that the whole ‘blind girl sculpting’ thing–

Oh.

Oh dear god. The music video.

The music video.

Taehyung has an idea.

His hands move before he can fully realize the plan in his head, rewrapping his project, and getting some new clay from the front of the class.

His teacher looks him up and down in all his frantic and excited glory.

“A sudden stroke of inspiration?” He questions, sounding curious.

“Something like that.” Taehyung smiles, trying to act inconspicuous. His teacher won’t let him take the clay if it’s not for his graduate exhibition.

He makes it back to his station without any more inquiry and starts to work right away.

Jimin was right, he does know every nook and cranny of that penis. He spent hours getting acquainted with it, and he has an excellent memory (Except for faces, obviously).

All the other students are too busy working on their final projects to notice the massive penis under construction a few feet from them. If anyone asks, Taehyung will proudly answer that it’s a life-sized depiction. But no one is asking, so he simply works on bringing the piece to life. The students in his class rarely talk to him, since he hasn’t gone out of his way to develop any type of relationship with them. It’s easier like that.

Once he’s done, many hours later, he’s alone in the workshop with the sun setting outside.

He ogles proudly at his masterpiece, the erect penis standing tall on his station, truly a creature of beauty. It’s a perfect replica, down to the ballsack wrinkles; down to the cute mole at the hilt. Of course, it’s clay-colored, and it probably won't change since Taehyung hates painting his creations, but he’s absolutely certain that everything else is exactly like the original.

The oven has been preheating for a while, so it’s hot and ready to bake some penis. The only thing left is to leave it to cure for a while. Any ol’ regular penis would have taken less than an hour to cure, but we’re talking about a monster cock here.

He pops it into the oven, sets a timer, just in time for a knock at the door to pull him out of his penis-induced craze.

“Yo, Tae,” Yoongi’s voice resonates from the door frame.

Taehyung grabs a rag from his station to clean his hand with before making his way to his friend. There’s someone with him, and Yoongi signals at his friend with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Remember Namjoon?” He asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. Jimin and Yoongi have taken to the habit of identifying the people they’re with, so Taehyung doesn't have to embarrass himself trying to figure it out on his own. That way, they don’t have to explain his condition to every single person that isn’t in his immediate friend circle.

(Is it even a circle if it’s two people?)

He sends a nod in Namjoon’s way and gets a wave back, and that’s as far as their exchange goes, as usual. Except today, his whole body language reads nervous and tense. But that’s none of Taehyung’s business.

“We’re going to see some juniors perform in a pub, you want to come with?” Yoongi asks him, and Taehyung knows he means well, but he also knows that Yoongi knows he doesn’t like crowded spaces.

He and Jimin have tried to get him to go out more, but the only time Taehyung steps foot inside any type of alcohol selling establishment is when he wants to get laid. And there’s only one place he goes to then; that crappy little Bar near campus that’s only frequented by broke students who also want to get laid.

He doesn’t like anywhere that’s dark where there’s enough people to make him lose sight of his friends. Something about losing his parents at the mall one too many times.

“That sounds nice, but I have to finish this piece I’m working on.” He answers, trying to sound as regretful as he can. It doesn’t really work, judging by Yoongi’s unconvinced humming.

“Alright, careful when you go back home.” Yoongi finally answers, patting him on the shoulder.

He starts walking away, but his friend, Namjoon, stays frozen on the spot, facing him. He’s looking at Taehyung in some kind of way, but face blindness makes it hard for him to read other’s expressions. He raises a single eyebrow in interrogation, and that seems to make Namjoon snap out of it. He turns on his heel without as much as a goodbye, which, rude .

“'Kay, bye.” He mutters after him.

But he can’t hold it against him. He knows that ‘Namjoon’ has been a long-time friend of Yoongi and that they’ve spent some time together by association. Taehyung doesn’t go out of his way to get to know new people, so there’s a high chance Namjoon might have tried to approach him with friendship in mind, only to end up frustrated by Taehyung’s lack of interest. Happens all the time. He can’t really help it, reading intentions is not in his toolbox.

He should probably tell Yoongi to share his ‘secret’ with Namjoon. He seems nice enough from what he heard, so he would probably be understanding. It should at least clear up the misunderstanding, and Taehyung might even gain a new friend, who knows?

He makes his way back to his station, works on his actual project while the oven takes care of making his penis nice and hard.

The next morning, he wakes up to ten texts from Jimin, one from Yoongi, and multiple missed calls and voicemail from his workshop teacher.

Asshole with pink hair:

9:40 am ur crazy

9:40 am CRAZY

9:40 am This is hilarious

9:41 am That’s why i love u

9:41 am That is a beautiful dick

9:41 am Like it was nice on paper, but the 3D version definitely makes me wonder about its owner

10:26 am All the student body is buzzing about the mystery penis

10:27 am It’s on the front page of the school newspaper

10:27 am omg you dumbass u didnt write your number

10:27 am you didn't write your number anywhere brb dying of laughter

Hyungie:

11:32 am You didnt write your infos dumb dumb

Taehyung bangs his head on his pillow, hoping for quick death. How could he forget to write down his infos? How is anyone supposed to contact him?

Namjoon has come to learn quickly that university isn’t always the most sanest place on the planet. Cramming, into a single building, that amount of genius with that amount of insanity is bound to create interesting events.

He’s stopped being surprised by most things, might be guilty of doing some of those surprising things from time to time. But today? Today is on a whole new level.

Somehow, his dick is plastered all over the school, in every hallway, on every door. Think Regina George distributing the burn book copy all over school but, multiplied by 50, that’s how many pictures of his dick are distributed around school right now. Not an actual picture of his actual dick, but an actual picture of an actual clay replica, with big bold yellow letters spelling out 'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?', and nothing else.

It’s vaguely threatening.

He wishes he couldn’t tell that it’s his penis, then maybe he could laugh with the rest of the student body. But there’s no mistaking it. One look and he knew. The person who printed those flyers made sure to include all the possible angles, too.

It’s 100% his dick.

The slight curve is there, the mole is there, everything is there.

The intentions of the maker are unclear, but there’s one thing for sure: he knows exactly who’s behind it. He only knows one sculptor who has seen his penis, and that’s the current bane of his life, Kim Taehyung.

It’s not enough that Taehyung has been completely ignoring his existence before their night of passion together, he’s also been ignoring him after.

And now this? Plastering his dick all over school? For absolutely no reason? Did he not like the night they spent together? Was this a great big ploy to make fun of him? Is this Taehyung’s way to reject him? To tell him to stay away from him? He knows he’s never been really subtle with his crush, but isn’t this going way too far?

At least he had the very, very basic decency to forgo his name from the flyers, or Namjoon might have had to run away to the next town.

Namjoon is not dumb, he knows his ancient Greece lore and what they thought about big dicks.

Taehyung didn’t write this so people would look at the dick, he’s obviously calling him a dick. And for what, pinning on him for the last year? Can’t a man have a crush in peace?

Maybe he shouldn't have approached Taehyung that night.

One thing is for sure, Taehyung is sending him a very clear message to stay away from him.

He spent a fortune printing all those hands out, and now he has to reprint them all? Taehyung knows very well he can’t afford another round of mass printing. Plus the librarian probably won’t ever let him walk into the library again. She had to come and refill the printer at least three times in the hour he was there. The environmental club was even called on scene by one of the students waiting for his turn at the printer. Talk about a snitch.

He can’t afford to reprint everything, and there’s no way he’ll go around school writing his number by hand.

He listens to the voicemails from his teacher then, uncovering a new hurdle.

The first one goes like this:

"Kim Taehyung I know it’s you, you left that thing on your desk."

Then the second:

"Kim Taehyung, you will take down these handouts right this instant before the Dean can see them, you hear me? He'll put you on probation and my head on a stick."

Taehyung muffles his groans into his pillow. Maybe it’s a good thing he forgot to include his number. He should have thought of that before.

He throws on some clothes, heeding his teacher’s warning. He better get to school quickly.

He texts Yoongi and Jimin to take down as many as they can if they want to see him live for another day. Yoongi doesn’t answer and Jimin only texts back asking if he can keep one for his room.

Some friend circle he’s got there.

He makes it onto campus in under half an hour, and gets to work, taking them down as quickly as he can.

He’s got only a few hallways left to do when someone taps him sharply on the shoulder. He spins around, dreading the moment he comes face to face with the Dean. Not that he could recognize the Dean.

“Are you the Dean?” He stammers in a small voice.

“What? No- you. I swear to god. Just tell me if you hate me that much.” Stranger says, before putting his long leg to good use, striding away from him. He throws a bunched-up flyer on the floor before disappearing down the hallway as quickly as he’s appeared.

Taehyung is stunned for a good minutes, utterly confused

The voice sounds similar, but other than that he has no idea who just spit those words at him. He doesn’t hate anyone, and he doesn't see why anyone would believe he has those kinds of ill feelings towards them.

Now that his plan has miserably failed, Taehyung falls into hopelessness once again. He lays in bed, holding his precious sculpture to himself. It’s the only thing he has left from his fateful encounter. Or he thought it was fate, but now he’s wondering if that was life making fun of him.

Jimin is laying by his side, examining the sketch of the body with clear interest. It’s making Taehyung feel a little possessive.

“Maybe you should try again in the school gym, no one gets a body like that from not going to the gym. You could say you’re looking for a model or something.”

Taehyung stares at his friend with all the admiration he can muster.

“I would kiss you so hard right now.”

“We tried that once, remember?”

“Yes, and that’s why I won’t be doing it, but I would, just so you know.”

“Cool.”

He snatches the sketch out of Jimin’s hands to get to work on the shading, trying to get his drawing as realistic looking as possible. Making a whole body out of clay would take too long, so Taehyung will have to settle for his sketch.

Once he’s done, some 30 minutes have passed. He whirl around on his desk chair, waving the sketch around successfully, only to stop dead in his tracks. He finds Jimin with his precious sculpture halfway down his throat.

“Jimin!” He exclaims, fuming. “Get your dirty mouth off my penis!”

Jimin startles and chokes in surprise, but then bursts out laughing once the sculpture is safely out of his mouth.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just really curious about the size. You never cease to amaze me.”

Taehyung snatches his precious phallus back, grabbing some tissues to wipe off Jimin's drool.

“If I can’t find him, this is going up my ass, so don’t touch it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin grimaces, rearranging himself on the bed. He grabs his phone to waste some time, probably ignoring his other responsibilities as the end of their final semester is quickly approaching. “You want to end up in the emergency room? Just use it to make a mold and replicate it with some silicon at least.”

Taehyung raises both eyebrows in astonishment.

“Jimin, your genius never ceases to amaze me.”

He successfully drags Jimin with him to the campus gym. Normally the prospect of hot sweaty people grunting, in various states of undress would attract Jimin like a bee to honey, but since he’s already banged or broken up with half the people that go there, Taehyung has to keep a firm hold on his friend’s wrist.

“Why do I have to come with you again?”

“It was your idea, so you’re taking responsibility.”

“I don’t like taking my responsibilities, they suck,” Jimin grumbles, but he stops trying to run away.

The moment they step into the gym, they’re assaulted by the musky smell of sweat and determination. There’s a high volume of people working out, probably wanting to channel their end-of-semester jitters into iron pumping.

Taehyung spots the front desk, putting his business smile on while reaching into his folder. He hears Jimin greet someone, going off by himself, but Taehyung bears him no mind and heads straight for the Woman working the counter.

“Hi there,” he says, charm on, “ I was wondering if you could help me out,-”

“Yes you can put your flyers up, no you don’t have to pay for it, no we won’t take it down before the end of the semester, yes I do have some tape.” She says without missing a beat, not looking up at him.

“Damn, maybe I’m here because I want to sign up for a membership.”

She finally looks up from her computer, assessing Taehyung from head to toe.

“No you don’t babe. Here’s the tape.” She says, handing him the tape while blowing a bubble with her pink gum. Multitasking at its finest.

Taehyung doesn’t feel like taking her on a debate, so he gets hold of the roll of tape and gets to work, spotting where other people left their flyers so he can put his right by them.

He scans the gym once or twice with a quick look, trying to see if, by a stroke of luck, Mystery Man could be there. No one that is shirtless has the body he’s looking for, and he sadly doesn’t have x-ray vision to check the rest. No amount of wishing as a kid made him grow that ability.

He puts up the first flyer, this time containing all his info, and stares at it proudly. He's got a good feeling about this.

Jimin finds him again as he’s putting up his last flyer, sounding excited about something.

“I had no idea Namjoon worked out. He’s got nice arms hidden beneath those sweatshirts.”

“Namjoon? Yoongi’s friend?”

“Yeah! And he changed his hair color, it looks really good on him. A little lighter than he used to have.”

Taehyung nods along, not really pressed to know more. He’s got other fish to fry.

Namjoon slowly counts to 30 after seeing Taehyung leave the premises, before he basically sprints to the nearest wall, spotting the flyers Taehyung has put up.

There’s a sketch on it, a sketch of a body. A body that looks strangely like his. He frowns, before reading the caption.

“Sculpting student looking for body model. Body must look like this. Call XXX-XXX-XXXX. Food as compensation. ”

Namjoon cannot believe his eyes. Taehyung knows he’s got that exact body type, yet he didn’t ask for his help. If he needed any other confirmation that Taehyung hates him, there’s one right there.

Just what did he do to the man to make him hate him so much?

Since he’s confronted him in the hallway, Taehyung still hasn’t reached out to him. It would be easy to do. He knows Taehyung has his number, they exchanged it when they first met, so nothing is stopping him. Unless he’s happy with the way things are.

Maybe Jimin is not as much of a genius as he thought. By the sixth person that walks in to be a body model, he realizes this is getting expensive in food bribes and studio fees. He has also stopped putting up the pretense of wanting to sketch anyone anymore.

But this time, It’s one Jung Hoseok who walks in.

“Have we slept together before?” He asks right off the bat, tired of wasting his precious time. It’s his new modus operandi; invite them in, ask the burning question, then send them on their way with the promised food to avoid complaints.

“I don’t believe so, but maybe we should fix that,” Hoseok answers, taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Your flyers have a nude body on it, you made me come to a private studio, isn’t this a nude modeling thing?” Hoseok questions, but doesn’t stop undressing. He’s already reaching for his belt.

Something tells Taehyung this man would be really sad to be told to put his clothes back on. The way he’s unapologetically getting naked tells Taehyung everything he needs to know.

“So, why are you asking?” He inquires while posing, everything hanging loose and stuff. “Is that how you get laid? Asking hot dudes to model, then seducing them once they’re naked and vulnerable?”

Jung Hoseok doesn’t seem to be feeling very vulnerable right now, but Taehyung keeps that to himself.

“God no. Jesus that would be sleazy of me.”

“Not as sleazy as asking me if we’ve slept together 5 seconds into our first meeting.” Hoseok points out.

“ Touché. ” He admits, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Hoseok doesn’t press him for an answer, and they spend the next few minutes in silence, the only sound coming from Taehyung's pencil on the thick page of his sketchbook.

Jung Hoseok, standing confidently in front of him in all of his naked glory, has a certain aura around him. The way he holds himself, no hesitation to bare it all, head held high; it's like he never had to hide anything in his life. Like he never knew shame. To the point where it inspires Taehyung to utter the next words:

“I have face blindness.” He starts off, which gets his model’s attention. He keeps his eyes down on his paper to avoid eye contact, feeling rusty when it comes to revealing this part of himself. He continues quickly, “I had a one-night stand with this– perfect greek god. He had the perfect penis, too. Best sex of my life.” He's making good progress on his sketch, Hoseok’s body graceful and easy to put on paper. “I’m trying to find him, but I don’t know anything about him, and I can’t tell people’s faces apart." He chuckles deprecatingly, "The only clue I have is the way his body looks. So I put up this ad for body models hoping he would show up.”

Hoseok breaks his pose to slap his hands together, then pointing at him. “Oh my god, are you the one that plastered the whole school with the penis sculpture a few days ago? Was that your version of a ‘Wanted’ poster?”

Taehyung feels his cheeks warm up.

“Yeah, but I almost lost my diploma over that so let’s not mention it.”

Hoseok laughs with his whole body, clapping his hands together a few more times as if to express his excitement.

“That was the best thing to ever happen on this campus since 1993, thank you for that.”

His statement piques Taehyung's interest.

“What happened in 1993?” He asks, expecting anything but what comes outs of Hoseok's mouth next.

“My mom and dad conceived me in the bathroom of the literature wing.”

Taehyung chortles, surprising even himself with how loud it is.

“Now that’s a conception story worth telling your kids.”

“They didn't tell me; They got caught and got expelled the next day. They framed their expulsion letter, it’s still on display in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s voice is dripping with fondness, betraying his love for his family. “The thing is, I learned how to read at a very early age.”

Taehyung is possessed by another wave of uncontrollable laughter. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes, taking a second to compose himself.

“There, you’re looking a little better now. “

Taehyung looks up at the man, standing there in his birthday suit, going out of his way to cheer him up even though they’re perfect strangers.

(Maybe not so perfect since he’s seen him naked, but still.)

He chuckles again, going back to his sketching.

“Wait does this mean you don’t actually need models right now?”

“Well yeah," Taehyung answers, shrugging his shoulders, "But you looked like you would be really disappointed if I told you to stop undressing, so I just went along with it.”

Hoseok nods his agreement, going back into his original position.

“Good call. Now that we’re here you better get the shading of my calves right. They’re my pride and glory.”

“On it.”

Who would have thought that this whole ordeal would have somehow turned into Taehyung making a new friend.

He looks at the contact number in his phone staring back at him. It’s written 'Jung Hoseok' with a little sun emoji. He’s told him everything he needs to know to avoid misunderstandings, and Hoseok left with the promise to always greet him first when they see each other in the hallway. It’s sad that he only met the man in his last stretch before getting his degree, but as they say: better late than never.

He’s excited to get to know Hoseok, but he doesn’t know if he should text him first. He’s feeling a little socially rusty, having not approached anyone with the intention of being friends in a long, long time. Which is why he jumps with glee when he sees he’s got a text notification from his new friend. But then he reads the text, and the glee morphes into unadulterated excitement.

Jung Hoseok 🌞:

4:56 pm I think i know who your penis belongs to

4:56 pm can you send me a picture? I lost the flyers i kept from that time

4:59 pm You sent a picture

5:01 pm Yeah it’s really similar

5:01 pm Kim Seokjin, XXX-XXX-XXXX, probably currently working the counter at the campus coffee shop.

5:02 pm He’s tall, broad shoulders, awesome dick

Taehyung doesn’t even take the time to text back his thanks; he wraps up his project in a disorderly manner, wiping his hands on his shirt with no care in the world. He throws his backpack on and basically sprint to the coffee shop he usually tends to avoid. The owner is totally an evil capitalist, ripping off students with his overpriced coffee.

He gets there in record time, gasping for air as his poor lungs try to keep up with enough exercise to last him a lifetime.

He’s covered in clay stains, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, clothes in dismay, lungs wheezing, so he should probably expect the next few events that unfold.

He walks into the coffee shop still out of breath, asks if Kim Seokjin is there to the first employee he sees. This is one of those times where he’s happy he can’t read people’s expressions, because he has a feeling he’s being judged very much right now.

“He… just got off his shift.” The man at the counter answers hesitantly.

“Can you tell me where he went?” And what he was wearing?” Taehyung may be sounding a little desperate, but he doesn’t have the time to care.

“He was still in his uniform, so green, and he went that way.” He indicates with a vague wave of the hand.

Taehyung starts running again, this time looking even more crazed as he scans his surroundings like a mad man, looking for someone tall with broad shoulders wearing green.

He spots him after running for a few minutes, thanking the heavens that the employee sent him in the right direction. He had every reason not to.

“Kim Seokjin!” He calls out, picking up his pace despite his lungs begging for a break. “Wait!”

He sees the man stop, take one look at him over his admittedly very large shoulders, then start sprinting away from him.

“No! Wait up!” He pushes himself harder than he ever has, his legs and lungs burning under the continuous strain, head feeling a little faint. “Please!” He calls out again in desperation. “Please look at my penis!”

This catches Seokjin’s attention, and he thankfully stops running, turning around as if to wait for him. Taehyung slows down to a jog, then to a complete stop, bending over gasping for air. Once his breathing is finally somewhat back to normal, he straightens up, only to come face to face with a bottle of pepper spray.

“W-wait!” He stutters, falling on his ass. “I swear I’m not a creep!”

“That’s exactly what a creep would say.” Seokjin answers, hovering over him threateningly, aiming the pepper spray directly at Taehyung’s face.

“I swear I just need you to look at my penis.”

This was the wrong thing to say apparently, because Seokjin gives the bottle a good shake as if to activate it. “That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you seem to think.”

“No! Wait!” He pleads again. “Not my penis.” He takes off his backpack, frantically digging through it until he finally pulls out his sculpture. “ This penis.”

Seokjin doesn’t look totally convinced, but he finally lowers his weapon. “That’s a beautiful cock.” He admits after a moment of staring in silence.

“Thank you. Is it yours?”

"I don't remember owning that sculpture."

"Not the sculpture; the Penis."

Seokjin frowns, extending his hand, and Taehyung gingerly deposits his precious sculpture into his palm. The man finally puts away his pepper spray to free both his hands. He examines the penis under every angle, trying out the hold, measuring the testicles with his palm, staring at it long and hard.

Taehyung takes the opportunity to stand back up, keeping his distance this time.

“It does look very similar,” he concludes, hands going to his chin. “But this is not my penis. I don’t have a mole there.”

Taehyung deflates. He still asks, just in case. “So we haven’t slept together?”

Seokjin gives him back his sculpture with a snort. “You don’t look like anything I've ever slept with.”

Taehyung realizes the state he’s in. He must look ridiculous right now.

“I’m from the sculpting department. I didn’t have the time to clean up. I don’t usually go around looking like I just rolled in the mud.”

“Explains a lot.” Seokjin nods, looking him up and down.

He dusts himself off as best as he can, but he can’t do much more cleaning up than that. He’ll probably have to go back home looking like that.

“So what’s your name?”

Taehyung feels dumb, he didn’t even have the decency to introduce himself before pulling out his penis. His social skills are frankly lacking.

“I’m Kim Taehyung. Sorry about all that, someone told me you could have the original version of this sculpture.”

“I’m flattered. It is pretty similar. Can I ask why you’re going around asking people to look at your– At this penis?”

Taehyung sighs deeply, looking down at the penis in his hand. He did it once, he can do it again.

“Long story short I had an amazing one-night stand with the owner of this beautiful creature, but I have no idea who he is and the only clue I have is my perfect memory of his penis.”

“Sounds like a proper modern-day Cinderella story. But how come you don’t remember his face?” Seokjin questions, a hint of worry in his voice that would make sense in any other situation than Taehyung’s.

“I…. have face blindness, it’s this whole-”

“Ah, Yes, Prosopagnosia, I heard about that in class.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, so this is my only way of finding him.”

“So the Penis Flyers-”

“Yeah, that was also me. Forgot to write down my info, got caught by my teacher, that was a whole mess.” Taehyung admits, feeling discouraged.

“So now you’re basically going around town asking every man to try on the metaphorical glass shoes.”

“Basically.”

“Maybe don’t start off with ‘please look at my penis’ next time?” Seokjin recommends, which makes sense.

“I’ve been told that asking if we’ve slept together first thing is making me sound sleazy.”

“Yeah well, asking people to look at your penis isn’t better.”

“I’ll take good note of that.”

He drags his feet all the way back home.

He sees, pushed in the corner of his room, the material he got to make a mold, and wonders if now is the time to give up.

His exhibition is coming up, this whole thing made him late on his projects, and now he’s certain he’ll never reunite with Mystery Man. Maybe Mystery Man just doesn’t want to be found. Maybe he’s seen all his attempts and has simply steered clear, avoiding him all along. Maybe it’s time for Taehyung to make himself a silicon version and move on. He’s exhausted all his options, he’s out of time, and out of ideas.

He’s reading through the molding instruction, glad that this should be easy since he’s using a sculpture and not an actual living and breathing dick, when he realizes he hasn’t exhausted all his options. There’s still hope.

He jumps in the shower, picks out an outfit befitting of his destination, and goes off with hope in his heart.

The Bar isn't too busy, this being the middle of a school week, but there’s still some people going about, sharing drinks and being loud, in total denial of the oncoming train that is the end of a semester

Taehyung spots the barman, beeline for him.

“Hey, do you know who usually works on Sundays?”

“That would be me.” Mr.Barman says, convincing Taehyung he finally has luck on his side.

Mr.Barman is on the tall side, with nice tattooed arms and wavy over-bleached hair tucked behind his ears. He’s making his forearm bulge seductively by polishing some beer glasses, and if Taehyung wasn’t on a mission to find his possible Mr.Perfect, he would be actively trying to get into his pants.

“Do you, by any chance, recognize me?”

Mr.Barman doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re a regular. And you gave me a blowjob once. Why are you asking?”

Well, Taehyung might have many flaws but at least he’s consistent.

“I was wondering if you remembered seeing me a few weeks ago– I was with a dude, about this height, with this body,” he adds, pulling out the sketch. He looks a little crazed, once again. But it’s ok, he’s reaching for straws here. “He had dark hair, but that’s all I can tell you. See, I have face-”

“-Blindness, I know, you cry about it every time you get drunk.”

Hm. And Taehyung thought he was a character full of mystery.

“I do know who you’re talking about. He’s a regular too.”

The irritation Taehyung feels is only momentary, everything melting away with this new bit of information. Someone saw them, someone knows what his Mystery Man looks like. He didn't hallucinate the whole thing.

“Do you know his name??” He asks, pleading with his eyes. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest, desperation tangible.

“No. And he hasn’t been here since that night.” He says, crushing every hope and dream Taehyung mustered up in the last five seconds. He pauses his polishing, head tilting to the side. “But I do remember his face. I can try and draw him if you want.”

10 minutes later, Taehyung is looking at his disability in the face.

“Wow, you did it. You perfectly illustrated how people with face blindness see others.” Taehyung says, looking down at the drawing Jungkook (he asked for his name) quickly scribbled on a piece of napkin. It looks exactly like how he sees others.

Jungkook being good-natured, only laugh it off. “I can’t do much here, I’m working. But if you give me your number, I can try and do a better sketch once I get home. I’m from the painting department.”

“You would do that for me?” Taehyung asks, feeling deeply moved by Jungkook’s kindness.

“Sure, it’s good practice for my portrait class anyways. You can take this as a thank you for the blow job.”

Taehyung nods to himself.

“I do give amazing blowjobs.”

Jungkook, like any good art student, does not appreciate being rushed.

After a whole week of being told “it’s not ready yet”, Taehyung stops asking.

He also wakes up one morning and realizes he only has a few days left before his exhibition.

Not only is he not done with all his pieces, he still hasn’t started studying for his finales which happen to be the week before his exhibition, meaning, the next day.

He pushes aside any thought of Mystery Man (except when he hugs the sculpture at night, heart yearning for the original), and jumps straight into his cramming strategy, which consists of hitting himself with the books until he’s absorbed the material. If he’s not studying, taking a finale, or sleeping, he’s huddled in the workshop with the other students of his department, functioning on coffee and eating various shades of sculpting material for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is not what Taehyung expected when he was told that artists live from their arts.

The day before his exhibition, he’s barely feeling human, he’s got dried clay in places clay should never find itself, he doesn’t know words anymore and he has basically forgotten his own name.

No matter how fast he works, he realizes he won’t be able to finish his last pieces in time. He’s wracking his brain for a solution, thinking long and hard about just what he could do, when it hits him.

The solution is right underneath his nose;

His penis. It was always his penis.

He’s supposed to expose pieces that he finds impactful, and if there’s anything that had a big impact on his life in the last few weeks, it’s his sculpture.

He can’t tell his teacher, he’ll categorically refuse. Not after the stunt he pulled with the flyers. Plus he wouldn't understand the cultural reset it was for Taehyung, finding and crafting that beautiful creature.

So he sets to work in secret. It shouldn’t be too hard, he hasn’t printed his labels yet. Plus the students are in charge of installing their own corner, meaning he can wait until the very last moment before the opening to put his penis on display.

He needs to find a name for his sculpture, so he texts his friends for help, but as usual, they are unhelpful.

Asshole with pink hair:

6:45 pm ‘ Suck on that’

Hyungie:

6:45 pm why are you asking me idk

Jung Hoseok 🌞 :

6:50 pm “ Long lost lover”

He’s glad to see that his new friend will fit right in once he introduces him to everyone.

He isn’t satisfied with the answer he gets, so he sends more text.

Kim Seokjin:

7:05 pm “Is this your penis?”

7:06 pm Or better yet, “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?”

7:06 pm that way people will understand how current your art is

7:10 pm Also I didn’t give you this number to chitchat

7:10 pm after we find out his identity im cutting all ties with you

7:11 pm Im just feeling invested right now

7:11 pm that’s all

7:17 pm Where’s your exhibition again?

Jeon Jungkook barman and artist:

9:56 pm idk

9:56 pm im almost done with the portrait btw

9:56 pm you mind if I use it for my exhibition

9:56 pm im really proud of it

So not much more help on that side either.

The next day, Taehyung is busy setting up his corner and feeling emotional over his last exhibition.

He’s done with uni. He can go off into the world and live from his art. Or more like, he’ll first find a side job that’ll suck the life out of him, to pay for his art. Then he’ll spend a few years regretting every decision that led him to be an artist, but just as he’s about to give up, his sculptures will be noticed by a mysterious millionaire that’ll commission him thousands of dollars at first. He’ll refer him to his rich friend who will be all over his art and will throw their money at him.

Yeah, it’s a nice pipe dream.

He makes sure all the labels are in place, the lights are hitting his pieces in all the right way, and that no one notices him putting his penis in the middle of his space 30 seconds before they open the doors.

By the time his teacher notices, it’s already too late; the place flooded with friends, family, and even the occasional art critics that the university invited.

It’s not like his penis feels out of place in his setup. Most of his pieces are on the theme of the human body; studies of movement, skin texture, whatnot. If you look at it as a whole, you almost have a whole body. The only thing missing is a face, which is extremely fitting for Taehyung.

The wave of people coming is not preferable for Taehyung, since he doesn’t like crowded places. He’s never been a fan of their exhibition opening nights over the years. He keeps himself busy by trying his best to merge with the wall while people circle his pieces. His friends know he won’t be able to recognize them in the crowd, so they’ll come to him by themselves, he simply has to make himself visible.

“Hey babe,” Jimin says with mirth in his voice, “Is that greek?”

“Yeah” Taehyung answers, fixing his eyes on his most beloved and central piece.

“I didn’t know you knew greek”

“I don’t, but Google does.”

The Penis is standing directly underneath his own spotlight, looking like a beacon of light, grabbing the envious stares of the people around it.

There’s a little white label by its base:

Kim Taehyung

πέος, 2021

Red Clay

(if you recognize this penis, please ask for the artist)

“ What does it mean?”

“ Penis ”

Jimin hums, crossing his arm over his chest. “I guess I was not expecting anything less.”

Yoongi chooses that moment to appear, whistling his praise.

“So you did work this semester.” He jokes, bobbing his head with approval.

“Har, har.” Like he’s one to talk. He basically spent the last few months becoming one with his bed.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he expects it to be Hoseok or Seokjin telling him they’re here, but instead it’s from Jungkook, and it’s a picture.

A little gasp of surprise escapes him.

His hands shake as he opens up the text app, his heart thumping as the picture loads. He presses on it once it’s ready, taking up the full screen, and Taehyung can finally-... well, Taehyung can’t do anything with that. His case of face blindness is pretty severe, so even drawings are unrecognizable for him. But it’s something! A new clue! He can make a flyer out of this! He can-

“Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?”

Time stops.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in his head, mocking him, but also stealing the carpet right from underneath his feet.

Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?

A portrait of Namjoon

Namjoon

Namjoon, who stood in front of him silently, that day Yoongi invited him out, probably expecting some kind of reaction from Taehyung.

Namjoon who frequents the campus gym.

Namjoon, who’s tall and broad-shouldered.

Namjoon, who’s been around Taehyung for a while but was never told about his condition.

Namjoon, who probably thinks Taheyung has been ignoring him all this time.

“Jesus fucking christ, My Mystery Man Is Kim Namjoon.”

Both his friends voice their confusion as Taehyung tries to rip his hair from his head.

“This penis belongs to Kim Namjoon, who doesn’t know I have face blindness, and who probably think I’ve been ignoring him all this fucking time.”

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says at the same time as Park Jimin, that prick, starts cackling uncontrollably. Taehyung always knew he was evil.

“This is- I’m so sorry but- This shouldn't be funny– But I can’t, it’s too funny.” He wheezes out in between laughter. “He was right there, probably confused as hell as to why you were showing his dick to everyone- I’m sorry this is so funny but also so, so sad. You never- oh my god.”

Under the attention of about half the gallery, he wipes the tears from his eyes, body convulsing with laughter.

“What the fuck are you waiting for.” He finally manages to say, taking a deep breath. “Hyung, didn’t you drag him here tonight?”

That seems to snap Yoongi out of his stupor.

“Fuck, yes he’s here, he’s... There!-” He says pointing somewhere, but then his voice dies down. “And now he’s leaving...”

Taehyung spots the man with a black cap currently walking out the exit with an angry stride. He reacts on instinct, running after his Not So Mysterious Man Anymore.

Kim Namjoon is having a very no good, very bad day.

Not because of school, no. He aced all his finales, he doesn’t even need to get his grades back to know.

Not because of the weather either. No, it’s a beautiful spring day, and there’s a hint of cherry blossom in the air, wrapping the world in a romantic tint.

No, the reason he’s having a very no good very bad day, is because he can’t, for the love of God, get Kim Taehyung out of his head.

It started with a very interesting dream, clearly drawing inspiration from the night they spent together. It woke him up at the crack of dawn, sweating up bullets and hard as a rock. Finding sleep afterward was nearly impossible, meaning his first precious day of vacation started way too fucking early.

Now music theory never sleeps, so he simply spent his morning trying to forget his dream, channeling all his energy on composing.

But then Min Yoongi, long-time friend and co-compositor, had to go and ruin his fragile peace of mind by reminding him he had two tickets for the sculpting department exhibition, and Namjoon was obligated to show up. Meaning he would inevitably run into Kim Taehyung; Meaning he would agonize about him all day; Meaning , that he would be thinking about Kim Fucking Taehyung all day.

But it’s ok, because he was finally starting to come to terms with that too. Taehyung would probably ignore him again, and all he needed to do was circle the gallery once and get the fuck out.

But no.

Oh no.

Life had better plans.

Because right into the center of Taehyung's exhibition space, is his very own penis, standing proudly, mocking him.

He can recognize it from the flyers, so he knows instantly that it’s Taehyung’s work.

He’s stunned by the audacity, wondering once again what he did to draw Taehyung’s ire upon himself. The flyers were not enough, no he had to go and put it on display as his final fuck you to Namjoon. Even wrote 'penis' in greek as a title, confirming Namjoon's theory that this is all a ploy to make fun of him.

Namjoon has had enough, he’s getting the fuck out of there.

He spins on his heel at the speed of light, taking advantage of every inch of his long legs to walk out as fast as possible. He ignores the call of his name that follows after him, readjusting the cap on his head.

He’s fuming, feeling tears of frustration building up. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s been nothing but respectful of Taehyung. He’s been staying away from him too.

He doesn’t deserve this.

He makes it a few blocks before his phone starts going off every 5 seconds with incoming texts, forcing him to finally look at it.

Yoongi Hyung:

6:14 pm Before anything, know that Taehyung suffers from severe face blindness.

6:14 pm I know you know what that means you wikipedia rat

6:15 pm I didn’t tell you cause it’s none of my business who he chooses to tell

6:15 pm But the dumbass has been trying to find you for weeks using your dick because he had no other way to identify you

6:15 pm Your pinning hasn't been exactly subtle either

6:16 pm he ran after you when you left but I bet he’s pleading with the wrong person in the street right now

6:17 pm Nice dick by the way

He rereads the series of text to try and make sense of them. Only after the third read, does he finally understand.

Well, shit.

“Please Namjoon listen to me, you have to listen to me, I didn't mean to ignore you, I just didn't know it was you!-” Taehyung pleads, holding on to his sleeve.

“Can you please let go of me?!”

His voice sounds a little older than what Taehyung remembers, but he doesn’t have the time to think too much about that. Maybe he’s got a cold or something.

“-I can explain everything if you can just give me two minutes-”

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not this kind of person.”

Taehyung isn’t deterred, holding on to him desperately “-Please I swear just two- no, one minute, even one minute is enough-”

Someone clears their throat, tapping him softly on the shoulder.

“Sorry sir, I believe my friend here is mistaking you for me.”

Now that’s a familiar voice. A voice he recognizes from many occasions.

Taehyung lets go of his poor unsuspecting victim, taking a step back which is all it takes for them to run away from him.

He finally comes face to face with the source of all his past weeks' torment.

The height is there, the shoulders are there, the body proportions are there, the hair color is completely different, but Jimin did mention he changed it recently. He’s got the black cap on, the one that made Taehyung mistake a perfect stranger on the street for him.

It’s him. He found him. It’s his Mystery Man, his cinderella. He’s got him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He confirms, voice gentle.

“Kim Namjoon.” He repeats, trying the name out on his tongue. His body is filling up with butterflies, and he can’t feel his toes.

“And here I thought you just could never remember my name.”

“I can explain–” He rushes, eager to get rid of the misunderstanding.

“It’s ok, Yoongi told me.”

“And about your penis–”

“Yes, Yoongi told me about that too.” Namjoon cuts him off, the tip of his ears getting pink.

“I’m so sorry– I should have asked your name then. I mean– you made me come four times .”

Namjoon chuckles, catching one of Taehyung’s hands mid flail and holding it with both of his, making his heart jump.

“We’ve basically known each other for years, so maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. I don’t think I would have appreciated it then.”

“I guess that’s true. I’m still sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, I could have come up to you first. I mean, I’m the one who sneaked out in the morning. I had an 8 am class, by the way. I didn’t leave because I wanted to. But you have my number so… I assumed you would call me. ”

“I have your number...?” It's pretty vague, but it does ring a bell. He's got a blurry memory of time, around their first meeting, when Namjoon and he had exchanged their numbers for Yoongi related reasons. “That’s right, I do have your number. Fuck.”

“Well, I know now this wouldn’t have changed anything for you, since you simply didn't know it was me you were with.” Namjoon snorts, but not unkindly. More at the situation.

But Taehyung still feels terrible.

“I’m so sorry.” He whines, feeling like burying his face in Namjoon’s chest. But they’re not there yet. “I tend to keep people at a distance to avoid misunderstandings.”

“It’s ok, I get it now. I guess I wish I knew before, but I get it now.”

“Good. I should have told you sooner. I was actually planning on doing it soon if that’s any consolation.”

“It is.” Namjoon murmurs, inching closer to him.

“Cool, cool cool.” Taehyung blurts out nervously.

This is it. This is his chance. Everything that has transpired in the last few weeks is leading up to this moment.

"So," Namjoon starts when Taehyung has been silent for too long. "Yoongi said you were looking for me... Any particular reasons?"

"Well, yes." He answers but stops. All of this means nothing. It doesn't mean that Namjoon will accept to go out with him. He has no idea how Namjoon feels about him, and he sure as hell cannot tell by his facial expression. He's going in blind, no reason to believe that Namjoon wants to have to do anything with him. For all he knows, Namjoon is only here to settle the misunderstanding, and then be on his way. Maybe he's even mad about the penis flyers.

But then he also remembers that Namjoon is holding his hand right now. It's now or never.

He takes a deep breath for bravery and goes for it.

“Kim Namjoon, can I please take you out on a date?”

Namjoon doesn’t let him second guess himself, word leaving his mouth as fast as a blink.

“Absolutely.”

Apparently, they’ve gathered a crowd because there’s cheerful hooting and shouting erupting around them. But Taehyung pays them no mind as he goes in for a hug, Namjoon meeting him halfway.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon says, suddenly, taking a step back. “I still don’t know why you put my penis on display at the center of your exhibition.”

Taehyung chuckles, bringing Namjoon back in.

“Simple, ‘cause it’s a masterpiece.”

2 months later

There’s a knock at the door, which throws Taehyung off. He’s getting ready for his date with Namjoon– their actual first date– and is not expecting anyone. Jimin knows the code, so it can’t be him, unless–

“Hello sir, would you be open to receiving the words of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ?”

“Jimin, I swear to god, I can tell it’s you by your voice. And no one from church would dress like you do, slut.”

Moving in with Jimin is as much a blessing as it is a curse. A blessing because, well, they’re best friends. A curse because his best friend’s favorite hobby is to try and prank him. Taehyung almost misses the time where Jimin was treating his face blindness as a taboo.

Almost.

The last two months have been a whirlwind of life-changing events for Taehyung.

First, moving in with Jimin is a pretty big deal. Not only has Taehung been living alone for the last three years, living with someone is sometimes a challenge for him. Wondering why a stranger is standing in your kitchen at 3 am, brain slowed down by sleep and the weak lighting not helping, isn’t always a recipe for success. But he’s slowly getting used to it, and Jimin, as much as he can be a prick, is being patient with him.

The second big event is, well, his current job. Somehow his workshop teacher, even after everything, recommended him for a job at a sculpture academy. He now teaches different types of sculpting medium to children, four nights a week. Pretty sweet gig.

At first, he was going crazy out of his mind worrying about working with children, but four weeks in and he’s feeling confident. He sat down with the kids the first week to explain to them what face blindness is, and although the children were initially confused, they now enjoy switching names with each other for the duration of his classes, to mess with his head.

Jokes on them, Taehyung also called their parents during that first week. So far, none of the children have noticed that their parents have been making them wear certain accessories every time they leave for the academy. Checkmates.

And the last big event, of course, is Namjoon.

In between moving, his new job, and Namjoon’s own busy schedule, they have yet to go on an actual full-blown date. But they’ve slowly been getting to know each other. They make time to go on quick coffee dates sometimes, and they text none-stop. Namjoon hasn’t seen his new place yet, but they’ve hung out at Namjoon’s plenty of time.

His boyfriend (he gets giddy thinking about that word) also showed up at the academy a few times to walk him back home (The first time he kept it as a surprise, but he quickly realized Taehyung didn’t like surprises; especially when it means having a tall stranger approach him in the dark without saying anything. Now he texts beforehand.)

“Do you like this outfit? Or should I go with my floral button-up?” He asks Jimin, who’s lounging on his bed after his failed prank attempt.

“Why are you so stressed? It’s not like it's the first time you two see each other.”

“Because the chances of me getting laid tonight are extremely high and I want to look good.”

“Oh?” Jimin perks up, knowing full well Taehyung and Namjoon have been taking their time to get to know each other. “Should I sleepover at Hobi’s tonight?”

Another new development from the last two months: Jimin and Hoseok’s instant attraction. They’ve been dancing around each other since the exhibition, but it looks like it’s finally getting ‘ sleeping-over-at-each-others-place ’ serious.

“...Good idea,” Taehyung answers, not because he wants the house to himself (though it’s a nice perk), but he likes giving a little push to love sometimes.

His friend circle can finally be called a circle now. Somehow, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon just naturally fit into his now actually social, social life. Namjoon was the easiest since he already knew Yoongi and Jimin. Hoseok got it easy by becoming Jimin’s more-than-friend, and Seokjin just showed up one day with a video of that time, outside the gallery, when Taehyung thought an older gentleman was Namjoon because of his black cap.

He looks at the time, curses when he realizes he’s going to be late. He grabs his wallet and puts on his shoes in a rush, and makes it out the door accompanied by Jimin shouting “Don’t you dare fuck on the couch or you’re buying a new one!”

He makes it to the Bar with only a few minutes to spare, and as luck would have it, Jungkook is working. He’s come to recognize his tattooed arm and bleached locks instantly.

Namjoon would have texted him if he was there, which means he’s cutting it close as well, so he sends a quick ‘here 💖’ text before sitting down at the Bar with a big smile.

“You make me want to puke,” Jungkook says, disgust dripping from his words.

“Hey now don’t be jealous, I’m sure you’ll find yourself a monster cock as well one day.”

Somehow, he and Jungkook started texting on a semi-regular basis. It’s mostly Jungkook begging Taehyung to introduce him to Seokjin (apparently he’s been crushing on the man since he first saw him at the coffee shop), which Taehyung has to find excuses every time to avoid telling Jungkook the cold, harsh truth.

(“I don’t date men with bleached hair, it ruins my whole aesthetic.” Jin said after the first time Taehyung asked. Which aesthetic he’s talking about, Taehyung has no idea.)

But that also means that Jungkook has heard all about his very fascinating and blooming love story with Namjoon.

“Did you tell Seokjin I said hi?”

“Dude, just go and ask him out. You know where he works, you know where he studies, you even know his birthday, which is really creepy when you two have never talked by the way. Just, go ask him out, he won’t be able to resist you once he actually sees how attractive you are.” He pauses for a second, then adds for safety measure, “But if he reaches in his pocket, just run the other way.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask, just trust me.” Taehyung has some unpleasant flashbacks of a bottle of pepper spray being waved in front of his face. He shakes his head to try and get rid of the memory.

“And how would you even know that I’m attractive, you don’t actually know what I look like.” Jungkook retorts.

“Shut up, just go and ask him.”

“Just go and ask him what?” A familiar voice asks from behind him, and Taehyung's smile is back full force. He rotates on his chair and jumps into Namjoon’s arms, hearing him groan under the strain of his weight. He can hear Jungkook fake gagging behind him, the actual child.

They share a quick kiss before they both sit down at the bar.

“You’re not seriously thinking about having your date here, are you?”

Taehyung snorts, tempted to mess with Jungkook, but Namjoon is the one to answer.

“No we just wanted to get the evening started with a nice drink, but we have a reservation to an actual fancy restaurant, paid graciously by Taehyung's actual serious adult job.”

“Is it a serious adult job if he had to stop a kid from eating his donut-shaped clay yesterday?”

“Shut up. If you keep being like that I’m going to order the most annoying thing on the menu.”

Jungkook scoffs and walks away, without actually taking their orders.

They both watch him do a big show of ignoring them, answering other customers without turning in their direction.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Namjoon whispers in his ear. “We can go waste time walking around aimlessly, hand in hand.”

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Taehyung mutters, but he actually loves it.

His dating experience before Namjoon amounts to an enormous zero, but it’s not because he’s one of those unattainable, i-don’t-believe-in-love types of people that live rent-free in Hollywood movies. He simply never thought it would be possible to get close to someone romantically with his condition. But since officially meeting Namjoon, he’s been researching, and turns out, he totally can.

There are even people, artists like him, who've noticed that repeatedly drawing or painting their loved one has made them actually able to remember their face (not 100% of the time, but he’ll take what he can get.). So he’s been sketching, using pictures, trying out different angles. He’s planning on using clay at one point. He’s totally the girl from Lionel Richie’s music video. Which makes Namjoon Lionel Richie.

“Did you know that I was inspired by Lionel Richie’s music video to sculpt your penis?”

Namjoon chuckles under his breath, squeezing Taehyung’s hand just a little bit more. The hot summer air is making their palms sweaty, but they both don’t care.

“Where is that thing, by the way? It’s been a while since I’ve last seen it.”

“I put it on my bedside table when I moved in and I haven't moved it since. I’m thinking about making it into a lamp. I have to keep it out of reach of Jimin and Hoseok, they both seem a little too interested.”

Namjoon grimaces. Or Taehyung is assuming that’s his grimacing face.

“Please never let it fall into their hands.”

“I swear on my honor, I shall protect your penis.”

“Thank you, I feel better now. I still can’t believe they put it on the first page of ‘Sculpting Now’. Crazy how all of your friends and the sculpting world know what my dick looks like.

“It’s a masterpiece. If it was mine I would never keep it in my pants, I’d always want to show it off.”

“How are you not in prison right now?”

“I don’t have your dick in my pants, sadly. Did you know that Seokjin almost pepper-sprayed me the first time we met? In retrospect, having a stranger run after you, pleading for you to look at their dick is a good excuse to pull out your pepper spray.”

“Wait, you did what?”

“It was all in the name of love.”

Namjoon shakes his head, probably disappointed in him.

Namjoon is utterly enamored. Every time Taehyung recalls a story from when he ran around school trying to find him, he falls a little bit more in love.

He was so nervous for their first romantic date that he couldn’t eat during the day, but Taehyung is making him feel at ease, as he usually does, so hunger is coming back with a vengeance.

“Should we go to the restaurant now?” He asks, pulling Taehyung along with him. "It's almost time."

“Let’s.” Taehyung agrees readily, “I’m ravenous.”

They quickly make their way to the restaurant, only to find its door closed. There’s a sign in the window reading “Closed for vermin infestation”.

“Oh.” Namjoon says, “Dammit. That’s not good.”

There’s this awkward silence, filled with growling sounds from both their bellies. It’s too late to make reservations anywhere nice, and anywhere else risks being too loud for a romantic Rendez-Vous. Namjoon is scrambling his brain for a solution when Taehyung’s shy voice interrupts.

“Hum, if you want to– Jimin told me he wouldn't be home tonight, so… You want to come over? We can pick up some ramen on the way.”

Taehyung’s face might be neutral, but the blush growing on his cheeks is anything but. Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight that he makes, burning up in embarrassment. Without the blushing, Namjoon would have believed he’s only inviting him for ramen, but the angry red of his cheeks is definitely betraying Taehyung’s intentions.

He nods his agreement, feeling anticipation replace hunger in the pit of his stomach.

Having Namjoon in his space is a new experience.

The apartment is still messy from their move, boxes lying around, but they’ve managed to make it quite homey. Everything that is necessary to their everyday life has been unboxed, only the odd objects being ignored by Jimin and him.

He puts on some soft music to set a nice mood, and Namjoon is humming along straight away, which is all the approval he needs to feel confident about his music selection. Music Theory graduate approved.

He gets to work on the ramen while he directs Namjoon on where to find a cheap bottle of wine and some wine glasses. He sets the table, trying to make it as nice as possible, but it’s really just a pot of bubbling ramen and two bowls with some chopsticks.

They eat in comfortable silence, the music playing in the background mixing with the sound of their eating.

But then Namjoon dumps the content of his wine glass on his tan-colored pants, and it’s downhill from there.

“Damn it!” He curses, jumping to his feet. He grabs some napkins to try and pat some wine off, but it’s already been absorbed by his fancy suit pants.

“Quick, take them off,” Taehyung says, not thinking too hard and only reacting to the situation at hand. “Let’s rinse them in the sink.”

Namjoon complies, taking them off in record time, passing them on to Taehyung like it’s a relay race.

Taehyung deposits them straight in the sink, opening the tap and letting the water hopefully get rid of most of the stain. They both stand there for a minute, staring at the water filling up.

But then it hits Taehyung that Namjoon’s thighs are currently bare and in his vicinity. He sneaks a quick peek to satisfy his horny brain, but he’s quick to snap his eyes back to the sink to avoid doing anything stupid.

Like, let’s say , dropping to his knees.

He can feel himself blushing, his cheeks, ears, and neck feeling hot. He knew exactly what he was doing, inviting Namjoon for some ramen, but now that he can act on it, he’s suddenly feeling very shy.

Plus, not being able to read facial expressions never really impaired his ability to get laid. He used to just– go to the bar, wait until someone would offer him to get out of there, and go for it.

But this is not a bar, and Namjoon won’t ask him if he wants to get out of there. He has no idea how to tell if Namjoon wants to jump into bed with him. Or not.

He takes matters into his own hands.

“So, as you know,” He starts, staring intently at the water flowing out of the tap, “this whole face blindness thing– I can’t really read your facial expressions. So in the future, it’ll be hard for me to figure out if you’re angry or happy, or sad, or… or horny. I’ve never done this whole– Romantic relationship thing, but I’m guessing we’re going to have to be really vocal with how we’re feeling, what we want, whatnot.”

He lets his statements hang in the air, staring at the stain that doesn’t seem to want to go away. He’s thinking maybe this will have to be removed professionally.

But then, Namjoon chooses that moment to drop a soft kiss on his nape.

“Are you asking me, right now, if I want you?”

Taehyung turns around, letting himself be cornered against the counter. Namjoon has his nicely defined biceps, somehow peeking through his suit vest, on each side of him. He absolutely loves it.

“Yes. I am.”

Namjoon kisses his neck once again, and Taehyung is this close to losing it.

“I absolutely want you.” His boyfriend finally answers, landing a heavy kiss on his lips, sucking all the air out of Taehyung’s lungs.

After turning Taehyung’s inside to mush via lips on lips crime, he returns to his assault on Taehyung’s neck, peppering the skin he can reach with sweet kisses, each one sending electricity straight to his groin.

“Do you want me?” Namjoon questions softly into his ear, making Taehyung's eyes roll back so far he’s scared they’ll never come back.

“Fuck yes.” He grinds out, voice turning to a whine when Namjoon, emboldened by Taehyung’s enthusiasm, rocks his pelvis into his in a languid motion.

He sees white then, bringing Namjoon’s mouth back to his, smashing their mouths together in a wet and messy kiss.

“How important are your pants?” He inquires in between kisses, enjoying the slow grinding Namjoon has going on. He’s still in his suit pants, but Namjoon only has the thin cotton of his boxer brief as a barrier. Taehyung can clearly feel his monster cock waking up from its slumber.

“Not very important.” He finally answers, hands letting go of the counter to firmly grab at Taehyung’s ass.

Taehyung can proudly say he’s got a fat ass, and Namjoon seems to appreciate it if the growl that escapes him is anything to go by.

He gets to work on the buttons of Namjoon’s dress shirt, Namjoon getting the message and taking his vest off by himself. Soon he’s standing there in only his boxer briefs and socks, while Taehyung is still fully dressed.

It’s kind of hot.

They slow it down a little, Taehyung pushing Namjoon away so he can take a good look at him.

The light of the kitchen falls almost gracefully over Namjoon’s defined chest, creating shadows that chisel out his muscles even more. It’s a sight to behold.

He drags his hands down Namjoon's body, teasing a nipple as he goes with a flick of the thumb, mapping out his taut stomach with the tip of his finger, then coming back up to hold onto his strong shoulders.

“You know, I’m like, really good at massages. I feel like this is something you should know.”

Seems like this is all the time Namjoon will allow him away from him. He reels him back in with an arm around his waist, the other taking hold of one of Taehyung’s hands and bringing it to his mouth. He nips at his fingers, maintaining eye contact while he uses his tongue to soothe the sting.

How he’s even real is beyond Taehyung.

“Do you need help undressing?” Namjoon teases, reaching for his belt.

“Let me close the tap and we can move this to my room.”

Namjoon doesn’t give him a response, only cages him once again against the counter, plastering the full length of his warm body to his. He reaches behind Taehyung and moments later, the soft ambiance music is the only thing they can hear again.

Taehyung leads him to his bedroom, taking off his vest as they go. Somehow Namjoon already got his belt buckle, so he unceremoniously drops his pants to the floor, then jumps on his bed.

“Welcome to my room. That’s my desk, that’s my bedside table, that’s a replica of your penis, but I heard the original is planning on making an appearance tonight. This is my bed. Hope you enjoyed the tour.” He finally gets to the final button, looking up eagerly as he sends his shirt off to the side, wondering what’s taking Namjoon so long to get on the goddamn bed.

He finds his lover completely captivated by his penis duplicate.

“You’ve got the same one in your pants, you know. Get you your ass over here.”

“Sorry I was just thinking… it’s crazy how similar you made it only from your memory.”

“Excuse me?” Taehyung objects, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re not just similar, they’re identical.”

“Only one way to check, is there?” Namjoon taunts, before finally, finally getting rid of his briefs, releasing the Kraken.

Except he also grabs hold of the sculpture, bringing it close so he can do a side-by-side comparison.

“You’re right, it is identical. How did you even manage that?” He says, awe in his voice. “Have you ever used it on yours–”

Namjoon loses his train of thought as he takes in the sight of Taehyung, laying in bed completely naked, pumping himself at a leisurely pace and looking very unimpressed.

“No, I haven’t. But if you don’t get into bed in the next 5 seconds I just might consider it.”

Namjoon doesn’t have to be told twice.

#bangtanidx #bangtanarmynet #houseofddaeng #mikrogalaxynet #boymeetsmxm #bangtanxm #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #min yoongi #kim seokjin #park jimin #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #bts fic #taejoon #taejoon fic #taehyung x namjoon #v #rm

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Affliction II. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

warnings: general yan stuff, mentions of previous abusive relationships, isolation and self deprecation. word count: 3k. link to the previous part.

There aren’t many places left where you feel comfortable enough to be yourself.

Not an identity that was painstakingly crafted for the sake of self preservation, but your genuine self. Here in the midst of Giorno’s grandiose flower gardens, you’re given the scant opportunity. Whether it be paranoia, or if it holds some ground in reality, there’s a possibility that guards are watching over you from afar. Lost in the thickets of nature, even if you’re being fenced in against your will, is preferable to the suffocating walls of the mansion. There isn’t a lot you’re willing to praise Giorno about, but his taste in flora is breathtaking. Palettes of complementing colors mesh together in a wide array of nature, stepping into it like entering a new world.

This particular section is your favorite. Azaleas are in full bloom around you, the sweet scent wafting to your nose. Stone garden benches, slightly aged by weather and covered in moss, make for a nice spot to collect yourself. This time of day, a sizable tree provides shade from the oppressive Neapolitan sun. Taking in a deep breath, you consider what to do for the reminder of the day. There isn’t much in the ways of entertainment, not in the sense you’d grown used to. No using the internet, or interacting with anyone that isn’t Giorno, aside from rare exceptions when you need food. Some of your hobbies are provided for, but the inspiration to partake in them when in captivity is dwindling at best, nonexistent at worst.

You’ve had plenty of time to mope around the long, seemingly abandoned halls that make up your prison. After nights of incessant tears and sighing, you’ve made up your mind to make the most of the dreadful situation. Biding your time for a possibility of escape is all that can be done. Walking around the gardens almost felt like a form of reconnaissance at first, scoping the foreign territory in hopes of locating a weakness. Frustrating hour after hour would pass, no convenient cracks in the wall or fencing making itself known. Of course he wouldn’t make it that easy, not after all the apparent effort that went into kidnapping you.

The sun is beginning to set in the sky, the lengthier days of summer beginning a downwards trend as September soon approaches. You frown at the sight of clouds bathed in rays of golden light, knowing what unique horrors night time brings with it. During the day you get to be on your lonesome, making as much space between you and Giorno as possible. While there are some fortunate nights where he’s too engrossed with work matters to seek you out, Lady Luck hasn’t been on your side lately. He’s been woefully insistent on spending dinner with you, wanting to form a bond that you hold no interest in. You’d sooner seek out the company of a snail than Giorno Giovanna.

When the crickets begin their anthems, the moon hanging high overhead, your freedom is restricted even more. The heavy weight of this realization pushes against your chest, a fresh wave of chills running through you. Anxiety is a finicky creature, making itself known at the worst times. Having a choke hold on you at its own leisure, preventing you from making any meaningful progress. It’s been somewhere around a few months now, you believe, since the encounter that changed your life for the worst.

Shaking your low hanging head at the thought, you occupy yourself with the parchment sitting on your lap. It’s coarse against your skin, a much needed anchor to keep yourself from drifting away from this world. That’s right, you’ve come here for a reason. You’ve had this blank piece of paper, that has beckoned you to fill it for some time now. The problem being, the lack of proper equipment to use on it. Some pieces of charcoal that you found earlier after lunch sprang hope anew, the tool familiar in the best of ways. Holding with it fond memories, a desirable distraction from your bleak outlook on life.

The guards that take care in shadowing you didn’t protest when you took it, so you assume it must be allowed. Bringing the dark instrument down to the parchment, you begin a rough sketch of an azalea plant in front of you. As you make the various shapes that define the flower, time almost seems to speed up around you. Before you register it, the sun has almost finished its descent into the sky, your hands fully covered in residue from handling the charcoal. Too absorbed in perfecting your work, you fail to notice approaching footsteps from behind.

“--[First].”

A surprised gasp leaves your lips at the unexpected greeting, your head whipping around to identify the source of the intrusive noise. Panic bubbles within at the sight of Giorno, who is taking a keen interest in what you are working on. From how at ease he looks, it’s difficult to gauge his thoughts. His visage never offers insight to his mind, always schooled and taciturn. He must be awaiting a response from you, but your mind is a state of panic. This activity isn’t something that’ll get you in trouble, is it? Subconsciously, you move the canvas to the side, your fingers wrapping around the edges uncomfortably.

You need to say something, but the words die in your mouth before coming to life. Pushing through your storm of dread, you offer a response. “I… I’m sorry, if I wasn’t supposed to.”

Turquoise eyes regard you in kind, taking a seat next to you on the bench. He’s generous enough to leave a respectable gap, but is still too close for comfort. From how his lips are turned into a soft smile, you want nothing more than to believe you won’t be chastised for this innocent indulgence. Spending time in Giorno’s presence is akin to navigating through a minefield, never certain what step may end up being your last. All of the promises he offers feel unfounded, the sickly sweet assurances of never harming a hair on your head. Why should you believe him? He’s given you no reason to take his word as concrete, and you can’t see that ever changing.

You remember the scent of blood. The nauseating sound of bones crunching, how flesh sounds when thrown against a wall. How when approaching death, the eyes grew bloodshot, lips trembling as they took on a haunting shade of blue. It’s the stuff of nightmares, watching a life snuffed out right before you. Matteo, someone who had been your companion, was gone before you could even process it. The strain on your relationship with him is unforgettable, but having to see his body tossed aside by a ghostly force? Witnessing how limp his limbs were, the same arms that once sought refuge in long ago?

You’ll never forget the devil Giorno is, no matter how much he paints himself as a saint.

“I had no idea you were interested in art,” he chooses to ignore your previous comment, wanting to redirect onto more positive things. “You have a real talent for it. Had I known, I would’ve prepared a wider array of art supplies for you.”

The compliment has the opposite effect as intended on your person. Instead of filling you with validation at the wholehearted praise, the words ooze down your skin like droplets of corrosive venom. A sudden disconnect between your creation is torn, and you can no longer stomach to look at it. How an object of beauty can turn into a reminder of your captor in a few measly seconds is a peculiar thing. When he leaves for work the next morning, you consider the possibility of destroying it all together. A last ditch effort to rid yourself of this revolting feeling that creeps down your spine.

“Please, don’t trouble yourself.”

There are multiple ways of interpreting your words, ranging from a dismissal of Giorno’s presence to humility. He spins it in his favor, as he’s showcased his brilliance in doing so. Your lack of straightforward animosity towards him serves to backfire every time.

“It’d be no trouble. Truth be told, I’m lacking an in-depth knowledge of the arts. What kind of equipment would suit you best?” Giorno inquires with a tilt of his head, his eyes leaving the impression that he can see the full dimensions of your soul. Ignoring him isn’t going to be of benefit, so you provide the bare minimum to satisfy his quest.

“It’s… more of a personal preference, what an artist chooses to use.”

He’s not letting you off the hook just yet. “What do you prefer to use?”

“The basics. Pencils, watercolors, the like. Nothing too fancy.”

Giorno looks fascinated at anything you offer him. Even if you only speak when spoken to, it’s a good place to start. Your muscles tense as he leans closer, to get a better look at the drawing of flowers. His eyes scan every stroke, seeing how it all culminates into a grander picture. You move your legs over, internally pleading that he’ll leave you alone soon. Speaking for him with any amount of time, no matter how small, is exhausting.

“Azaleas, correct?”

At this guess, you nod in confirmation.

“Please, should you ever need a reference for flowers, let me know. I’d be more than happy to provide it for you.”

The chance to refuse this offer is fleeting, curiosity taking over at how he reaches for a rock on the ground. Taking it into his hand, he puts it in full view. You blink at the uncanny series of events, wondering why Giorno is putting a simple rock on display. Any semblance of understanding is stolen from you, as the colors twist into a different assortment. The spherical shape shifts into a stem, the bud on top growing light pink petals. He watches with amusement at how you look at it closer, mouth agape.

“W-what?” It’s a weak whisper, betraying the full extent of your awe. How did he pull this off? It isn’t like a cheesy magic trick, where the rock would slide somewhere, only to be replaced by a flower. No, you witnessed the full life cycle of the flower. He chuckles lowly at your childlike wonder, preparing a palpable explanation.

“It’s an ability of mine,” he elaborates, placing the newly former azalea on your lap. “I can make any living thing.”

Is this a dream? To test the theory, you rub your eyes, uncaring of the smudges likely left against your skin. When your eyelids flutter open once more, you’re still in reality. Wanting to inspect the flower closer, you lift it up, close to your eyes. Studying every aspect of it, from how soft the petals are to the firmness of the stem. While not a professional botanist by any means, there’s no denying that this is a real flower.

“Any living thing…”

The words dance on your tongue, parroting his words back to him to make sense of it all. “Does that include animals?”

“Naturally. Is there anything you’d like to see, [First]?” He tempts you with promises of spectacle, fully aware of how bewitching Gold Experience’s ability is. Numerous ideas flood through your mind, possibilities infinite. Thoughts ranging from your own favorite animals, to cute creatures that might improve your mood. While creating bouquets of any flower might be an intriguing prospect, you’re more drawn to seeing animals. The only animals you’ve had contact with in the longest time are occasional frogs that congregate near the running foundations at night. Everything else is reduced to sounds, from owls to cicadas.

It’s when you see Giorno’s knowing smile that something deep inside you stirs.

He’s basking in the lightheartedness you’re exuding. This… this ultimately doesn’t change a thing. Giorno is a terrible man, who has taken so much from you. The hedges surrounding you both suddenly feel suffocating, a merciless reminder of who it is you’re dealing with. Beauty pales in comparison to real freedom. Every day has been the same as the last, an infinite loop of going through the motions, destined to never make progress. All of this has been thrusted onto you by Giorno Giovanna, a man in relentless pursuit of your heart.

None of this is right. Being near him is enough to too much to take.

You hold your tongue, eyebrows furrowing at Giorno bringing out all this conversation from you. It’s humiliating how all your efforts to deny him the desires of his flesh never work as intended, this one of the many times he’s bested you. Now that you’ve spotted his game, you clamp shut like a clam, intent on hiding the pearl of yourself from him. You’re intentional in looking away, the luxury of him maintaining eye contact with you a memory of the past. Sensing the barriers you’re putting up against him, Giorno stands, dusting off his expensive pants. He offers you a nod of acknowledgement, pivoting on his heel and calling out to you over his shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Too absorbed in your self deprecating thoughts and misery, you offer up no response. Footsteps crunching against the vegetation on the ground fade away, your heart pounding violently against your chest. Something wet caresses your face, teardrops falling and smudging your art. Your sniffling grows in volume, becoming a full set of sobs. Hands shaking by your side, you hang your head low, biting your lower lip to the point of drawing blood.

Feeling like a man possessed, you wildly rip away at the canvas that taunts you so. The sound of paper ripping pales in comparison to the natural ambiance of the summer night, and you pay it no mind. All you want is an outlet for this surge of emotion. Any guilt over littering the ground with remnants of your work dissipates when you remember how servants will scurry like insects to clean up after you. For extra measure, you pick up the former rock, glowering at it. Breaking the stem with your hands, you throw it as far as you can manage, not able to stand the sight of all it stands for. None of this even begins to remedy the abhorrence that clogs your heart for Giorno, but it’s a start.

Exhaustion seeps into every pore of your being, and you retire to your room.

- - -

He notices a lot of things about you when you’re asleep.

There’s clear serenity on your countenance, far away from the world of unfortunate reality. Giorno catches every rise and fall of your chest, how delicate your breaths are, the way your long eyelashes flutter against the soft cheeks of your face. When you’re lifted from the depths of deep sleep with a dream, frustration overtakes you, eyelids twitching. He’s inquisitive on the nature of your dreams, that must take the form of nightmares. What is it that haunts you? There’s a twinge in his heart at the possibility of it being him.

The first time you reached out to him in your sleep, he thought it a trick of the lights. A fine delicacy he doesn’t deserve to gratify himself with, as a reminder of his own sins. You’re too good to him when you’re like this, arms subconsciously reaching out for something to grasp on. A few times, you found a pillow, content with it in your arms. In moments like this one, your hands touch the bare flesh of Giorno’s chest, drawing yourself against him. He stays perfectly still, recognizing the humiliation you’d face should you wake. No, this is just fine with him, enough to satisfy a dormant hunger.

He can’t help himself, ghosting his fingertips up and down your bare arms. Goosebumps dot your skin from the motions. It’s a selfish wish, that you’d always be like this around him. Giorno would be a fool to think of himself as anything but self-serving after all he’s taken from you. Your future, freedom, your life. What is possibly an attempt to justify some of the extreme measures arises, Giorno incapable of hiding the scowl of your former situation. Such a kindhearted person, diluted by scum of society, churns his stomach in repulsion. The original plan didn’t include offing your former partner, but righteous fury overtook him. It isn’t often Giorno’s composure can crack, but seeing you belittled was all it took.

All the damage inflicted on you left gaping wounds, too great for Giorno to heal.

He witnessed how radiant you’re capable of being, how your face glowed the first time you met. It’s a fond memory now, a way to placate him. Anything less than honoring the memory of you treating his wounds is a disservice to your person, Giorno incapable of offering nothing but high praises for you. This highlight of humanity, a pinnacle of what people are like at their best, is what motivates his goals further. To see Italy become a better version of itself, eradicating the nefarious plots that fester in the shadows.

You rub your head against his chest, murmuring incoherent words in your sleep. His heart leaps at the endearing sight, wishing he could stay like this with you for eternity. In the midst of his musings, his own Stand materializes into existence, unblinking eyes considering every curve and dip of your body. Gold Experience Requiem wishes you were capable of acknowledging it, having to be content with observing you from afar. It’s a double edged sword. There’s an opportunity to wrap phantom-like appendages around your waist, you only believe it to be a gust of wind. Touch starved as Giorno is, he’s willing to accept any scraps of your touch he has access to.

Tiny pieces are better than nothing.

Tomorrow will bring troubles of its own, yet he can’t find it in himself to complain. Your scrutiny is wholly deserved, and all that he can offer in meager attempts to reconcile is effort. To be better for your sake, and his own.

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